Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Can even a Quirkless person become a Hero some day?!”

The muscle-bound giant standing before Midoriya Izuku is stock still, not even seeming to breathe as he thinks the question over. Or at least, that’s what Izuku hopes he’s doing. Meeting the legendary Pro Hero, the Symbol of Peace that is All Might, let alone being personally saved by him, wasn’t something the greenet had been planning on happening today, but asking this question is something he’s been planning for the last decade of his young life - ever since he’d found out he was Quirkless. So he really, really hopes that the living myth he’s finally come face-to-face with is actually taking the time to think of his answer.

And so he gets the second major shock of the day when he gets it.

“Could someone without a Quirk become a Hero? That is a difficult question to answer.” All Might sighs, shaking his head. “I will not say it is impossible, for nothing in this world really is - I know that better than most - but I will say it is not advisable. Heroics is a vast, dangerous, and unforgiving field, and that is without the additional discrimination you would face for being Quirkless. Much as it pains me to say it, at this point in my life I am loath to encourage anyone to become a Pro Hero. You should, I think, consider a different line of work - after all, one does not need to be a Hero to be heroic.”

That’s… That’s…

“All Might. Is something wrong?”

“Why, whatever could make you ask such a thing, young man?!” Oh no. There’s nervousness in his voice. In All Might’s voice. “I’ve given you my honest and truest answer, after all!”

“You have, but.” Izuku shudders, looking up at his idol with tears in his eyes. “But what you said is just so unlike you that it made me wonder. Not that I think you were lying or anything! And I don’t mean to question you of course you are the All Might, the Symbol of Peace, number one Hero in all of Japan and a global legend and all that but for someone of your standing to just come right out and say you don’t recommend that anyone at all join you in the ranks of being a Pro Hero not even just because I’m Quirkless but like as a general thing is just so far out of left field that it made me worry and I know I don’t really have the right to question you but you know there is so so so very much adrenaline in my system right now between being saved fromthatvillainandthentheflightupherethatIcan’treallyhelpmyself and OH HOLY SHIT!”

Izuku isn’t normally one to swear, but watching the greatest Hero since the Age of Gods deflate into a funhouse caricature in a puff of smoke and splattering of blood seems like a great reason to pick up the habit. Quickly stringing events together, he wipes the tears from his eyes and waits patiently for All Might to explain what’s going on.

“Well. Fuck. I was hoping you would not have to see me like this, young man, but I suppose an explanation is in order. You will, of course, keep everything you see and hear strictly confidential.” He waits for Izuku to nod, then lifts his shirt, showing a horrendous puckered scar. “As you can see, I sustained a rather grievous injury in a fight against a high-class villain. I won’t divulge all the details, but it was a fierce fight, one I was lucky to walk away from with my life. But I did not walk away with my stomach, or large portions of my lungs. It has taken a collection of intensive surgeries to stitch me back together, enough that I can still act as the Symbol of Peace for the time being, but I am limited to a mere handful of hours per day of my inflated form, and that time grows ever shorter. Soon enough I will be forced to retire completely.”

Stunned, the young greenet can only muster a singular, sharp, scathing response: “Bullshit!”

“I. Beg your pardon?” All Might is clearly taken aback, letting Izuku step forward with his fists clenched and finish formulating his thoughts.

“You got hurt? So what! Heroes get hurt every day, or even die! You’re going to use that as an excuse to say that you don’t want anyone following in your footsteps? That’s bullshit! This is the time to encourage more Heroes, not less! If you’ll be gone, the world is going to need a new Symbol of Peace, and then another after that, and more after that! Why the fuck would you want to keep the new generation of future Pros from ever becoming Heroes at all?!” He knows he’s shouting by the end of it, and there’s a tiny voice in the back of his mind losing its shit that he’s yelling at All Might, but he presses it down along with his anxiety and glares at the man he thinks of as the most important inspiration in his life.

All Might, for his part, regains his cool and lets out the kind of heavy sigh that only someone with decades of heroics and all the pain that goes along with it can muster. “The world will have to learn to cope without its Symbol of Peace. I will do my best to uphold the mantle while I can, but I have no intention of passing it on once I am at the end of my career. Sorry kid, but you’re going to need to find a new dream to strive for; reality is what it is.”

Izuku watches as his personal hero, the man who only this morning stood on the highest possible pedestal, steps down from his lofty perch and walks out the door from the roof down to the ground. As that door shuts, Izuku swears a new vow to himself: he will not only make his dream a reality, he will wake All Might from the nightmare that seems to have consumed him after his injury. And as an explosion rings out in the distance, that resolve settles itself on the young boy’s shoulders as he follows in All Might’s footsteps in a far more literal sense, moving from the roof to the street to hopefully find the train back to his house still running.

It’s going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

It was not, in fact, a long day at all. Even considering everything that happened, the day was rather short. Because once again, Midoriya Izuku finds All Might in front of him, albeit not face to face this time. The man is in dogeza, face pressed to the asphalt that makes up the road outside the entrance to his home. It’s... A little sad, actually. After that second run-in with the sludge villain, trying to save Kacchan, and getting chewed out by a bunch of Pros, he had hoped to return home to rest and recuperate before making a brand-new notebook to hold all his plans to surpass his own limitations and join the ranks of the Pro Heros, even without a Quirk, and even in the face of All Might’s misanthropic statements. Instead, he was being offered the opportunity of a lifetime, to become the next holder of All Might’s Quirk (a Quirk that can be passed down from one user to the next! Oh man, it’s a good thing he can’t tell the Collective because they’d never believe it!), and take a step towards his dream.

“All Might-”

“Please, young Midoriya! Call me Yagi!”

“Oh.” Mere hours ago, he would have been over the moon having permission to use his idol’s name, but now it just rings hollow. “Yagi-san. You haven't really changed your mind, have you? You still believe that being a Pro Hero is a fool’s errand, but that I’m fool enough to do it with or without your help.”

A pause instead of an immediate denial, even a fake one. That gives Izuku an answer, even before Yagi gives his. “I apologize, young Midoriya. I should have known you would see right through me. You are not entirely wrong, nor are you entirely right. I meant what I said about you having the spirit of a true hero, that you inspired me to truly take on a successor. Until today, I had fully intended to allow my Quirk to burn out, to merely go through the motions of looking for a new bearer; and it wasn’t speaking to you that changed my mind - it never would have. A speech full of pretty words is meaningless in the face of inaction; an unwillingness to back those words with actions, like I see in so many of those who would call themselves my colleagues, is sickening.”

Yagi sits up, hands on his knees, and sighs. “But you, my boy, showed that you will forge ahead regardless of the obstacles in your path, and that leads me to make you this offer. I would be true scum to allow you to pursue Professional Heroics as you are today. I believe that with my Quirk, you will be able to make your dream come true, even if I still think that dream is one that drifts farther and farther from sanity every day. I can at least do my part to keep you alive.”

Disheartened, depressed, but resolute, Izuku finally nods. “I will take your Quirk, Yagi-san,” he holds up a hand as the wisp of a man opens his mouth, “but not because I think I need it. I will take your Quirk because I want to prove to you that it’s still worth being a Hero. I already vowed to myself, on that rooftop, that I will devote my whole life to opening your eyes again - I think you closed them when you went under for that first surgery after you got hurt, and tricked yourself into thinking they were open ever since. And now I will make that vow to you: Yagi Toshinori, All Might, Symbol of Peace and saviour of the world, I will become your successor. You were right about one thing, that the world doesn’t need a new Symbol of Peace, but you were wrong that it needed to move on completely. So instead, I’m going to strive to be something new. I’m going to give you back your hope, and when the day comes that you step down for good, I’m going to give that to the rest of the world too.”

Expecting some sort of pushback, Izuku is surprised when Yagi laughs. It’s a wretched, hacking, wheezing thing, one turns into spitting up blood and grumbling curses, but it’s a far more genuine laugh than any shows he puts on for the camera. “What conviction, my boy! What cheek! I will admit, I did not take you for the type to have, as the Americans say, the balls of steel it would take to say such a thing to me. But.” He stands, shivering and wiping his mouth, “that is precisely the sort of attitude that makes me wonder if you really will surprise me, get me to change my stance. It will not be simple, though, young Midoriya. You have the soul to inherit One for All, but your body is lacking.

“If you are amenable, I have a training regime I can help you through, one made to take you to the brink of collapse each and every waking moment, that will fast-track you to being ready to accept my Quirk in just ten months, right in time for the entrance exam to U.A.! What do you say, kid?”

It’s an offer he knows he’ll never get again, one that will finally, finally give him that edge he knows he needs to make it all the way to U.A. High School’s Heroics course, yet still Izuku hesitates. Yagi Toshinori is a lot different from the All Might he thought he knew, and he’s not entirely sure if allowing this man, this stranger, to dictate his life for the next ten months is the best idea. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, and I’m not saying no, but can I impose some conditions of my own?”

“Conditions? Well, I’ll need to rework the plan, but yes I suppose that wouldn’t be too much trouble. I have a good bit of down time these days, after all.”

Good; being willing to adapt is a fantastic step in the direction of earning Izuku’s trust. “Thank you, Yagi-san. My conditions aren’t strenuous. First and foremost, we need to tell my mother. Not everything, but at least some things; she has an anxiety disorder, and if I start making major changes in my schedule without letting her know she’s likely to worry herself sick. Second, my schedule right now involves doing informal patrols around Musutafu and helping people out where and when they need it - nothing that meets the standards of vigilantism! Not that it would anyways because I’m Quirkless and legally anything to do with vigilante work requires unauthorized usage of a Quirk but still I’m not really getting into fights or anythinglikethatjustsomebasicthings!” He snaps himself out of his muttering and takes a few deep breaths.

“I need you to find someone willing to step up and take an extra nighttime route, a Pro Hero who can cover me while we train. Someone low-key like Takeshita maybe. Knowing that you’re in the area will stop a lot of villain problems, but interpersonal stuff and petty crime, stuff that doesn’t take place in broad daylight? Not so much. Third, I really don’t want to get jacked. I want to focus on muscle strength, not definition. I know there’s specialized dietary supplements that can help me maintain the body type I prefer - sorry if that sounds weird, it’s just something that bugs me; the idea that people will think I’m copying you rather than training with you. And finally…” This one is the big ask.

“Finally, I want you to fund my charity program. I’m not going to be able to do my work for ten months - no, it doesn’t violate labour laws, yes I will discuss what it is but later - so I need to offset that somehow. Even cheap prepaid phones are kind of expensive, and with the new hospitality tax increase hotels and hostels have gone up a little bit too.

“If you’re able to agree to those, then I will go through with your plan. If not, then I’m afraid that even if it would make me ineligible to take your Quirk after all, I will have to respectfully decline; it’s just too important to me that the people I help every day are taken care of, and that includes myself and my mom.”

The look on Yagi’s face is one of mild surprise and calm calculation, which is a good sign in Izuku’s eyes. He knows he’s asking for a lot, but the reality is that he needs each and every thing - even just one being left out would cause way too much trouble in his very busy life, especially the charity program. Helping people who are down on their luck, usually kids, connect with support is something he’s been doing for the last four years, much to his mother’s consternation. Still, it’s been worth every trial and tribulation, even for those few he’s helped who have disappeared overnight without making that phone call. His mind wanders back to the strangest of them all - that girl with the hemovore-type Quirk, Toga Himiko; he’d been so sure of her! But not everyone wants the kind of help that Izuku offers, and that’s okay, if a little bit sad. Especially when it’s her. He really hopes she’s doing okay, wherever she ended up.

“You drive a hard bargain, young Midoriya my lad!” Yagi’s voice snaps him out of his memory with a bit of a jump. “Your cheekiness just gets more and more obvious! Very well, I will accept each and every one of your terms. Get ready, kid, because once we settle things with your mother and go to the bank, your ten months of absolute hell will begin!”

Izuku’s smile is bright, strong, and sharp. It catches Yagi off guard, so similar is it to a smile he’s seen before, on the great David Shield. “I’m more than ready for it, Yagi-san. My whole life I’ve been going through hell, so why stop now? I’ll cross the other side into Purgatory and go beyond! Plus Ultra!”

Plus Ultra indeed.

Chapter Text

Sitting in his living room with Yagi Toshinori is liable to give Izuku a heart attack he swears. He may be just a touch disillusioned with the Pro Hero, but now that things have calmed down a bit from the shock of actually talking to the man and being offered his Quirk, more than a decade of being his number two fanboy (he knows he doesn’t hold a candle to the legendary king of the hero forums FutureDiary, but second place against the oldest fan not named David Shield is something okay?) comes roaring back to clobber him over the head with the fact that this is All Might and he is currently sitting in your kitchen drinking your Mighty Afternoon Tea please don’t let him recognize the brand that would be so embarrassing-

“This tea is delightful my boy; I’m glad I took that sponsorship opportunity with the company! Did you know that my own proceeds from the licensing deal go to the Tokyo branch of the SickKids hospital?”

Ah shit, of course he would. “I actually did! It was your first corporate sponsorship in two years at the time and I remember reading the interview where you mentioned turning down the offer to name one of the new hospital wings after yourself which was super humble and also really cool to do!” Izuku says this with full confidence, as if it’s a meaningful statement at all — as if he’s talking to his fellow Hero otakus — and realizes far too late how completely insane it sounds to boast to Yagi about his own accomplishments. Nothing for it except to sip his own tea and wish it was deep enough to drown in.

The ticking of their analogue wall clock rings through the apartment in a steady, dull thud as the two occupants sit in awkward silence, wordlessly agreeing that further conversation would be so much more awkward. On the bright side, Izuku has no reason to let Yagi into his own room, thereby avoiding the absolute mortification that would come along with his seeing the massive collection of All Might merchandise on display. Especially his limited edition Summer Calendar Collection featuring photos of the man in a very muscular rendition of Midnight’s hero outfit that had been taken as part of a shockingly raunchy charity benefit.

No, Yagi will be staying very, very far away from the knowledge of exactly what kind of fan Izuku is, thank you very much.

The silence is interrupted by a comically loud slurping sound as Yagi takes another sip of tea from a teacup that looks like a child’s toy in the massive hands of his inflated form, then ever so delicately places it back down on the saucer. Not before, however, Izuku spots the Toyroyal logo on the bottom and realizes that the cup in question actually was a child’s toy - specifically, the one from his fourth birthday party. Well, it’s marginally less mortifying to have accidentally served tea in a toy cup than to have his collection seen, so there’s that. At least it was a heat-resistant plastic; the idea of having the cup melt through and spill tea all over his idol was enough to make Izuku light-headed, and he takes the emptying of his own teacup to excuse himself to the kitchen and calm down.

It’s a modestly appointed kitchen, as is most of the apartment as a whole, though not cheap or chintzy by any means, nor - contrary to popular belief online - stocked entirely with Pro Hero merch. Yes, the dishwasher is one that had been personally endorsed by Wash, and the oven by Blazin’, and maybe the dish towels were Present Mic’s favourite, but being sponsored by Pro Heros does not make them merch! Izuku always takes the moderate stance that in order to be considered merchandise, the item in question has to heavily feature at least the colour scheme of a given Pro, unless directly sold by their own firm (like in the case of the nail trimmers in the bathroom, purchased from the Wild Wild Pussycats’ website). Plus, Izuku only ever recommends purchases to his mom if he knows that the endorsement comes from someone meaningful, rather than a low-charter looking to make a few extra bucks by shilling repackaged Don Quijote junk. Not that he has any problem with Don Quijote itself — he shops there all the time — just the practice of framing it as anything but what it is; bargain bin goods.

Filling the kettle with more water and splashing a little on his face to cool off, Izuku braces himself against the counter and lets out a long, quiet sigh. It’ll be tough to make all the changes coming in his life, but change has to happen if he’s to have any chance at actually becoming a Pro. Washing out of the entrance exams for UA was always a likelihood, not just a possibility, and he had resigned himself to the idea of being pushed into General Studies until he was able to prove himself — but now, given the opportunity to not only succeed in the exams, but excel? He has to double or even triple down on his commitment. Besides, it’s not like it’ll be forever - ten months, ace the exams, get in, and he can go back to work after school every day, just like always.

After drying his face on a towel, he pours fresh tea into his own cup — as well as a larger one for Yagi (this one being an actual teacup and not a kids toy, he double checked) — and brings them into the living room, only to find that the man has already deflated into his scrawnier form. Well, so much for that idea. Still, he nods in return to the murmured thanks, sits, and sips. Before he can relax, a new sound rings out — keys jingling in the lock and the door swinging slowly open. He turns with a smile, setting his tea down and rushing over to help the rather tired-looking greenette that is his mother with the bags of groceries and sundries she had picked up on the way home. For her part, Inko Midoriya takes the appearance of a complete stranger in her home in easy stride, offering a small smile and a bow as she enters the sitting room, collects the empty cup and saucer from the table, and bustles off to the kitchen without a word, returning moments later with small tray of snacks she lays out before disappearing again, this time down the hall.

Yagi raises an eyebrow, to which Izuku can only respond with a small laugh. “Sorry, she’ll be back in a moment.”

Sure enough, the woman reappears not long after, pausing to kiss the top of her son’s curls before settling into the armchair next to him, smiling beatifically across the table and looking much fresher. “Hello, you must be one of Izuku’s friends. I’m Midoriya Inko, his mother. He texted me earlier to say that someone would be stopping by; I suppose you’re in need of some help?”

“Does, ah,” Yagi stammers out, appearing rather flustered, “does your son bring home many strangers in need of help, then?”

Inko nods, tittering softly. “Well, more often than not he’s able to help people while he’s out and about, but every so often he brings someone by the apartment - I think he gets nervous that they’ll take off on him, like that poor Toga girl. I raised such a wonderful child, always helping others! Though sometimes I do wish he would do it at a bit less of his own expense. No, Izuku, don’t give me that look, you know I’m right.”

Yagi dabs delicately at his lips with a black handkerchief, hiding a dribble of blood behind a bit of tea, and smiles broadly. “Well, he is certainly something special! However, in this case it’s actually myself who is here to offer assistance, my good woman. In particular, I aim to help your boy with his dreams of becoming a Pro Hero. For behold! I am here!”

With the booming sound of his catchphrase, the man reinflates to the massive proportions of All Might, drawing a startled yelp from Inko. “Apologies; there’s really no good way to warn people about that! Miss Midoriya, I assume you have the good sense to keep what you see and hear this evening to yourself, so allow me to explain! I have been looking for a successor to my legacy as the Symbol of Peace, searching long and hard for someone who could inspire not only others, but myself as well, with the spirit of a true hero worthy of taking up the mantle! And today, I saw that spirit in your son; he rushed into certain danger to help the victim of a villain attack as several professionals stood by and watched, even knowing that without a Quirk, there was little he could do except to buy time! But buy time he did, at great personal peril, and I believe that it was by his actions alone I was able to effectuate the rescue of that other boy!

“And so it was by these merits I judged your son worthy of the offer to train under me in preparation to join UA High School’s Heroics track, and not only has he accepted, but he has humbly requested that in return, I aid him in his endeavours to help the less fortunate, a request I will gladly grant as it proves even further that he is worthy of the title of All Might’s personal apprentice! So, I come before you today to make a humble request of my own: please, allow me to teach your son!”

All Might’s seated bow is deep enough to knock his head against the table, flipping one end up and sending the tray of snacks and teacups flying. Without looking up, Yagi’s arm shoots out, and he grabs the tray mid-air at a blinding Quirk-enhanced speed, setting it, the snacks, the saucers, and the unspilled teacups back down gently. “My apologies for that! If anything has been broken, I shall of course pay to have it replaced or repaired!”

The ticking of the clock is once again the only sound in the room as Inko picks a small stick of dango from the tray and nibbles at it nervously. Izuku leans over and lays a gentle hand on her arm, giving her an encouraging smile, and she nods back in return. “I have one condition of my own. I want you to make me a promise: keep my boy safe. Professional Heroics is a dangerous job, I know, and it worries me; I want my son to be happy, but I need to think of my own happiness too, and I can’t be happy unless I know that the boy I put my whole life into raising all on my own is safe. So if you can promise me that, then yes, I will give you my blessing.”

“Miss Midoriya, I will do everything in my power to keep your boy as safe as possible. Being a Pro Hero may be a dangerous job, but there are at least three years of school after my training program where he will merely be a Heroics student, and that comes with far less risk. But even when he graduates, I plan to have young Izuku inherit Might Tower, my personal agency, and all the security and support that comes with it. As well, I will be teaching at UA this year myself, so I will be around to guide him through his journey to becoming a Pro.”

Inko sets the skewer from her dango aside as she stands, brushes herself off, and sticks out her hand for Yagi to shake. “Then we have a deal. Please, look after my boy. I leave him in your capable hands as a teacher.”

Chapter Text

Three months into the New American Dream Plan, modified slightly to fit Izuku’s requests regarding a focus on muscle tone and strength rather than mass, the Takoba Municipal Beach Park still looks like a colossal shithole. Sure, there’s a large pocket of clear space and a pathway leading from the parking lot to the shore line now, but overall it remains a great big garbage dump. It’ll be a few months yet before it starts being properly usable by the public, but progress is progress as far as both Izuku and Toshinori are concerned. Grabbing a minifridge, Izuku tilts it onto its side, slides a homemade rope harness underneath it, and pulls it into his back, starting the long, arduous trek back to where Yagi-san’s truck is parked. Seriously, who the hell hauls a broken minifridge to a beach to toss it? What’s with like half the incredibly random crap here? The fishing equipment, old beach sports stuff, and random coolers all make sense, but Izuku is at least seventy-five percent sure there’s an animatronic gorilla about fifty feet down from the far edge of the pocket! And a whole-ass micro car!

What’s one hundred percent sure, however, is that this fridge is fully loaded, and that there’s a really pretty girl slowly approaching down the path, dressed in attire that’s super unsuited for the beach. That kimono is at least ninety thousand yen, probably stitched with real thread-of-gold, and her okobo are clearly tricky to walk on sand with. The parasol is a nice touch at least, and she’s not in her full oshiroi makeup which probably helps with the heat; she’d likely sweat it off anyways. Traipsing through the sand, the girl gives Izuku a small smile and a wave, and when he nods in return, she turns to walk slowly alongside him. Shironeko, as she goes by, with her low-grade mutation-type Nekomimi Quirk giving her fluffy white ears and a tail tucked tastefully into her obi to keep it off the ground, sighs in a wistful, teasing manner at him, mirth dancing in her eyes.

“So this is where you've been, Zuzuzu! Mama Nya is really put out with you, y’know? Half the girls have sworn off the streets ever since they heard you weren't going to be doing your rounds for a while, and the other half will only work in pairs.” Another dramatic sigh and a hand flung over the girl’s forehead in a fainting motion accompanies a bubble of laughter, and Izuku can’t help but grin in response, even if he does think the nickname she picked for him is a bit too silly. “Ten months, right? I don’t know if we can make it that long without you, Zuzuzu! Why, that’s almost half as long as we’ve known each other! But I have to say, I was happy to hear you’d be getting a real shot at UA with this new teacher of yours, and unlocking your Quirk like that.” She holds up a hand. “I know, I know, you were fine with thinking you were Quirkless, and I can admit it is a little sad that you’re losing that part of your identity, but being a Pro Hero has been your dream since you were a baby! So! We’re all rooting for you - even Tamahagane, that frigid cunt.”

That would be Shironeko’s ex and also co-worker; Izuku isn’t privy to the exact details of their most recent breakup, but he’d be willing to bet on them being back together again by the time he’s able to start patrolling again, were he a betting man. Not that it’s a bet any of the bookies in the Painted District were liable to take. Puffing air slowly, Izuku graces the girl with a warm grin, which she returns with an even brighter smile of her own, and as he trudges down the beach, she peels off with a wave.

“Right! I can see you’re busy, so I’ll go drop off that thing I owe you with Miss Inko. Wasn’t easy to get, believe you me, but you know I always come through. Buh-boodles~!”

Ah yes, buh-bye and toodles all mixed together, Shironeko’s favourite English slang. Chuckling quietly to himself, Izuku finally makes it all the way over to the truck and hauls the minifridge into the bed, crunching a bunch of other junk beneath it. As has become routine once a full load has been picked up, Toshinori tosses his protege a water bottle from the driver’s seat and instructs him to go sit and rest before puttering off to the actual municipal garbage dump. It’s about a twenty minute round trip, so Izuku has enough time for a solid break before the man comes back and he returns to cleaning, and it’s time he tends to spend in quiet contemplation when not making the trip himself. He flops down on the steps to the road and pours a little water over his head and the rest into his mouth, green locks drooping against his brow with sweat.

As it so often does these days, his mind turns to that night in the alleyway, the night he met the mysterious hemovore-type Quirk holder Toga Himiko. Though he only knew her briefly, their short time together left a lasting impact on him, and even now he’s completely unable to get her out of his head. From her messy buns to her striking eyes to her tragic story, everything about her captivates him - and he doesn’t miss that it’s a genuine first for such a fascinating Quirk to not be the thing that occupies his thoughts. More than anything, he wishes he could figure out what happened to her that night, and why she hadn’t called the next morning. He had been so sure that she would turn into a success story, absolutely certain based on their shared interest and his knowledge about her Quirk type, his reassurance that she wasn’t some sort of freak, that the two of them could become friends, but she’d taken the phone and the cash and seemingly vanished into thin air.

He’d contacted the short-stay hotel the phone had directions to and been told - slightly illegally but so is a lot of what Izuku does - that she was a no-show, and he’d asked around the usual places such a girl would end up, only to come back empty handed. It’s not like he could go to the police with anything other than maybe a missing persons report, but even that would stretch credulity because it wasn’t like he actually knew her, and it would make for a pretty obvious lie (not that he’s above lying to the cops if need be). No, Toga Himiko is well and truly gone, nothing more than a memory and a sense of something missing from his life. He almost regrets not putting some sort of tracking app on the phones he hands out, but that seems like way too much of an intrusion into the lives of the people they’re destined for, even if he could justify it as a safety measure given the nature of the usual recipients. Still, it’s not often he loses one, and even less so that it’s someone he had hoped would end up a larger part of his life moving forward.

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to use the resources afforded by being a UA student and Hero-in-training to widen the net in his search for answers, but he would first have to ingratiate himself to the staff and come up with a rock-solid alibi to ask the favour in the first place. He’s able to, certainly, but it will take a lot of planning, perhaps even more planning than being accepted for admittance to the school in the first place. Is he really willing to go that far just to find one girl? Even a girl as special as Toga?

Well, yes. That’s what a good Hero, a good hero, would do. Or so he tells himself. Maybe he’s just unwilling to admit there’s something more to it. Some feelings there that he’s shying away from. Only one way to find out.

Chapter Text

“-keep saying, you're all patched up, so shoo!”

The voice that rings through the fog in Izuku’s brain is ornery, but not unkind so much as it is affectionately irritated. The one that answers is a lot more impassioned.

“And I’m gonna tell ya again, I gotta stick here until ███ wakes up! ████████ well saved my life! Y’ain’t gonna get █████t afore then unle██ ya pick me up and chuck me!”

That accent… Kansai? Mie? Whatever it is, it’s endearing, and also enough for Izuku to grab onto and pull himself out of the fog. He definitely missed a few words here and there, but he’s got the gist of what’s being argued, and manages to croak out an intervention. “I’m awake, Recovery Girl-sensei, it’s okay.”

“Wait, boku?” The girl standing there blinks owlishly at him and shakes her head vigorously, slightly dislodging the bandage on her cheek. “No, never mind that! Sorry if I woke you, but I just had to say: thank you so much for saving me back there like you did! I’ve already spoken to the proctors and the principal - I offered to give you some of my points for the exam, since you didn’t get any villain kills that counted!”

Oh. Right, the exam. Specifically the practical portion of the UA entrance exam; that’s what he had been doing today, and that’s what landed him in the office of the Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl - the former Pro turned school nurse. He could remember doing the written portion, the struggles he’d faced trying to take down villain bots without overloading his body with One for All, but it’s not until he locks eyes with the pretty girl in her determined stance that he remembers that desperate Smash he’d pulled off in an attempt to rescue her from getting pancaked by the Zero Pointer. The greenet heaves a sigh of relief that she’s okay, then recalls where else he’d seen her before and quips cheekily, “hey, consider it paying you back for this morning! You saved me from eating pavement and making an even bigger idiot out of myself, so we’re even now.”

The giggle-snorting laughter that follows the joke causes Izuku’s ears to flush slightly and his heart to jump, struck by the sheer adorableness. He muses to himself about the possibility of getting her to slip back into that charming rural accent again, then hides his blush behind a small cough when he realizes what he’s saying in his own head. Yep, he’s got it bad.

“Well, alright then!” The girl hands him a slip of paper with a broad smile, highlighting the pink spots on her cheeks with dimples. “I’m Uraraka, by the way, Uraraka Ochako. Give me a call when you’re feeling a bit better, maybe after the acceptance letters go out, and we’ll celebrate.”

Oh. Oh, that’s her phone number. That’s a very pretty girl, with a very pretty accent, and a very pretty laugh, and she gave him her phone number. “Midoriya, Midoriya Izuku! And uh, not for nothing, but what if we don’t get accepted? I mean, I don’t know if your plan to give me some of your points will work and even if it does I don’t know if it’ll be enough and I’m kinda worried that if you give me your points thenmaybeyou’llnothaveenoughyourselftogetinandIwouldfeeljustawful!”

Uraraka blinks owlishly again as he stops to heave a breath, and just shrugs. “Well, still call! We’ll commiserate instead of celebrating; nothing wrong with that. Now, I should get going - I have a train to catch, and Recovery Girl-sensei looks like she might take me up on that offer to chuck me out the door in a minute. Bye-bye, hope I see you later!”

When the door slides shut behind her with a quiet click, Recovery Girl spins in her chair to face Izuku, causing his spine to stiffen. “Well! I’m glad you made a friend, boy, but I’m also glad Toshinori was easier to get rid of than she was. He’s waiting for you in the hall like a sane person. Now then, dearie, I’ve gone ahead and patched your arm up, but do note that it was just your arm; you’ve got all sorts of scars I’m not going to ask questions about, since prospective students aren’t my business even if they are Toshinori’s proteges. I hope you’re doing better now, and I’ll leave it at that. Take a couple of gummies to tide you over on the trip home, eat a big meal once you get there, and try not to end up in my office again too soon if you get that acceptance letter - for your own sake.”

Izuku feels like he narrowly dodged a bullet there, glad that Recovery Girl had shown some decent bedside manner by not digging too deep into his scars. Sure, some were nicks and cuts from his training, mostly tiny things that would fade in a few more months, but the deeper ones… He bears a patchwork of burns on his back and shoulders from childhood that will never go away, and some on his inner elbows and upper thighs from his darker moments. Being born Quirkless in modern society was no walk in the park, even with the support he’s gotten over the years from the Collective. Stuffing a handful of gummies into his mouth to avoid needing to vocalize a response, he offers Recovery Girl a polite bow and slips out the door, nearly walking face-first into a pacing All Might. The tall, stick-thin man smiles down at Izuku, drawing the greenet into a gentle hug that feels not unlike being pressed into a coat rack, for all it’s still comforting. “Glad you’re alright, young Midoriya. I had prepared a lecture about over-exerting yourself in the face of One for All’s destructive potential, but instead I want to tell you how proud I am that you risked yourself to save that girl. Let’s get you home to your mother, shall we? I texted to let her know what was going on, and she’s preparing a large bowl of katsudon for you.”

Izuku nods, staying wrapped in his mentor’s embrace for a moment and thinking about how close the two had grown over the ten months of the hellish training course, and how fulfilling it had been to celebrate the cleaning of Takoba Municipal Beach Park with a small private barbecue and a swim. He takes a step back and puts on a determined grin, tapping his fist against Toshinori’s arm. “Thanks. For everything. Even if I don’t get in, I’m happy you gave me the chance to make it this far.”

“Of course, my boy. I wouldn’t rather have had anyone else at my side these last months. I have high hopes for you in the future.”

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku has been brought to a stalemate. His bosses? Gone. His backups? Removed. His board clears? Mostly wasted on keeping himself alive. The whole thing has turned into a topdecking match - neither he nor Uraraka is in a position to win outright, but neither also are they in a position to lose. He draws his card for the turn, grimaces at it, and sets it face-down before passing play over to the girl across from him. It’s just an armament, nothing useful with nothing to equip it onto. Uraraka, meanwhile, smiles brilliantly at her own draw, scanning the text of the card before confidently slamming it down. A large hologram of the boss monster for her deck rises up from the electronic table, and moments later reduces him to ash and rubble. That marks the end of their battle, and a final victory to end their best-of-three.

Hard-won, too, with neither prior game being particularly decisive on either side! Sure they were just basic rental decks from the arcade, but Uraraka had shown herself to be no slouch at Izuku’s favourite trading card game, despite her proclamation that she rarely got to play due to the costs involved. Understandably so since, despite decks themselves generally being relatively cheap, recurring expenses like travel and tournament entry could add up pretty quickly, especially for a girl from rural Kansai. He hopes she’ll get more opportunities to play now that she’s going to be staying in the Musutafu area, and plans to gift her a deck as a housewarming present - not that he’s going to mention anything of the sort, since she strikes him as the type to be too proud to accept what she sees as charity.

As he sorts both decks back into their proper order to bring them up to the clerk, he spots them taking down a banned customer sign with a creepy-looking purple-haired kid on it. Right, Uraraka had told him about the pervert who had gotten arrested just outside the school on serial harassment charges when he’d shown up to take the entrance exams. She’d slapped him for making a really gross comment about the little nubs on her finger pads from her Quirk, and when he’d made a scene out of it, campus security had recognized him from a warrant broadcast and brought the police in to deal with the situation. Thank goodness he hadn’t been allowed into the exam halls; it’s often a bit of a worry that UA might use its rather large influence as the premier Professional Heroics school to keep problems about its students quiet (so long as they don’t do anything worth getting themselves expelled).

Once the decks are returned, along with Izuku’s deposit, he and Uraraka wander off from their shopping break back to supply hunting. They’ve gotten a good portion of their preparation lists, meticulously curated for low-price options like paper file folders instead of proper ringed subject binders. And if Izuku slips a few higher-quality things into Uraraka’s shopping bags while she’s not looking, well, it’ll be too late for her to argue by the time she notices, and she’ll have some actually decent supplies for school. All in a day’s work, really! Next up is uniform accessories, so the pair meander into the clothing store section of the large mall, browsing through the clearance racks and bargain bins as they go. It’s not until a sharp whistle rings out across the hallway that Izuku notices where the pair had ended up, and he unthinkingly grabs Uraraka’s hand to pull her along to one of the shops at the end of the row, not noticing the blush that covers her face.

“Kevin, you’re back!”

“Gysahl! I knew I recognized those leaves of yours; how the hell have you been kid?” The proprietor of the dimly-lit clothing store clasps Izuku’s hand and slaps him on the shoulder, letting out a laugh. “Damn, boy, you’ve leveled up! I can feel those muscles, Gysahl, you getting sexy on me or something? And who’s the bird, nerd?”

Glancing over to his companion, Izuku notices the absolutely bewildered look on Uraraka’s face, and offers her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry, I should’ve asked if you knew English! Kevin, this is Uraraka-san; she’s one of my year-mates for school. Uraraka-san, this is Kevin - he owns this shop. He and I go way back; I’ve been coming here with my mom since I was a little kid, since this is one of the best places to buy the kind of clothes I like.” He gestures to his t-shirt, which reads ‘tracksuit’ in katakana.

“Pleased to meet you,” Uraraka returns with a short bow to the proprietor, who bows back politely. “I managed to catch ‘Gysahl’ but the rest of it went over my head. I’ve taken a double-English elective for my first year, though, so I hope I can catch up! My family owns a construction company, and having someone who understands English would be good for getting more contracts, you see. Gysahl is that food they feed to chocobos, right? From that one video game series?”

Kevin nods, leading the two further into the store and ducking behind the counter to rummage around for something. “Good catch! Not a lot of people know about Final Fantasy these days. I give all my best customers nicknames, makes ‘em feel appreciated, and Gysahl here has a pretty obvious one. I mean, just look at those curls! Anyways, kid, I brought you something back from America. But, I could only get it in one size, and that size is not ‘Japanese extra small’.”

“Hey!” Izuku pouts, glowering playfully at the man, “I will have you know that I am a medium, thank you very much!”

“A children’s medium?”

“... Yeah, a children’s medium.” Izuku’s own blush does not go unnoticed as Uraraka gigglesnorts at his side, and Kevin’s shit-eating grin grows even wider. “Shut your heck and show me the thing, Kevin.”

“I managed to snag just one bundle of these in an adult large on my trip; I’ve been saving them just for you to make sure you get one ahead of the usual crowd. Feast your eyes, Gysahl!”

It is simply the most beautiful shirt Izuku has ever seen in his life. It features a heavily-artifacted image of the Flame Hero: Endeavour, complete with a poorly-cropped PNG border, framed on the top and bottom by English text in a sans-serif font reading ‘Second best? More like second rate!’, making for quite possibly the greatest insult Izuku could pay to the Pro he hates the most. “Kevin. Kevin I love you. I need this shirt more than I need to breathe right now. How much? I don’t actually care I am going to give you my money but I need to post about it on my blog and people always ask the price so what’s it going to run me?”

“Oh no you don’t, you slippery little bastard! I’m not letting you con me into paying for a shirt again; I still owe you. Take it, go get changed, and I’ll keep Uraraka-san company for a minute. Go on, get!” The soft cotton of the shirt makes a light thwap as it hits Izuku in the face, and he laughs his way to the dressing room, slipping out of his ‘tracksuit’ shirt and into the new gift. It drapes super loosely on his frame, but the image and text are both very clearly visible even when he puts his bag back on, and he can’t help but keep smiling like an idiot as he admires himself in the mirror. His body is toned, sleek, and not at all jacked, just the way he’d been hoping to keep it throughout his hell training.

When he returns to the storefront, the first thing he notices is Uraraka looking flustered, and Kevin looking incredibly smug. The second is the large bag with the store’s logo clutched in the girl’s hands. Aha, mystery solved.

“And with that, we’re even, Gysahl! One meme shirt, two accessory kits, no substitutions exchanges or refunds!” Oh. Oh Izuku sees how it is, Kevin resorting to the worst of tricks: giving the free stuff to his friend so he can’t give it back without looking super rude, and then quoting Disney at him, in English? That’s just dirty pool. But, he knows when he’s been had, so Izuku simply offers his thanks and to pass on Kevin’s regards to Inko before heading off to a handful of other shops.

Soon enough, their lists are all crossed off, and he and Uraraka make a line for the food court, grabbing an empty table near the outer perimeter to avoid the busy interior and placing orders with one of the many roving robot vendors: gyuudon and his favourite Pocari Sweat for Izuku, isobe maki and a tall melon soda for Uraraka. She grumbles as he takes out his wallet to pay faster than she can, crossing her arms with a huff. “Alright, fine, you can pay for one thing on our date. Only because it’s traditional though!”

Wait. This is a date?

“Wait. This is a date?”

Uraraka freezes, blinking that owlish blink as her entire face turns a bright, steaming red to the tips of her ears. Letting out a loud groan, she slams her face on the table and wraps her arms over the back of her head. “Midoriya-kun. Midoriya-kun ya hafta kill me. I can’t believe I forgot. I was gonna ask ya out formally but I got so caught up in gettin’ the acceptance letter that it slipped ma mind. Ya hafta kill me right now, this is so embarrassin’!”

Swoon. Double swoon. Quintuple swoon, even. Oh that accent is just the most adorable thing Izuku has ever heard, he loves it so much! He knows it’s mean to think about getting the girl flustered more in the future to hear her slip out of her ‘proper’ speech but he can’t help himself. “Uraraka-san, it’s okay! I think we both dropped the ball on this one a little; it really should’ve occurred to me that this was going to be a real actual date, since you gave me your phone number and all, but it just didn’t cross my mind that maybe you would feel that way about me because well I think I’ve mentioned a little bit about what my life has been like butalsoyesI wouldbehappytoformallydateyouandmakethisaproperdatemaybeI’llgetyouadessertorsomethingletmeknowwhatyou-”

Wow, the little pads on the tips of Uraraka’s fingers are soft. They feel like the pads on a kitten’s toes as they press Izuku’s lips shut and halt his rambling, and his brain short-circuits a little bit because holy shit that’s so cute. Uraraka Ochako has beans. It takes all his willpower to not start doing a Quirk analysis on her as she’s looking up at him, face still slightly flushed, but he’s definitely filing away the tactile sensation for later. “Midoriya-kun, you can stop now,” she smiles, gigglesnorting a little. Aww, no more accent. “I’d be happy to formally date you too; and yes, you can buy dessert after we finish eating. I like mochi, as you may have guessed! We have a traditional sweets shop back home that I loved as a kid, and the owner always let me have samples whenever he wanted to try new flavours. That little bit of casual kindness meant a whole lot to me, and I saw it in you, too. So. Let’s go out together? I guess we already are, but you know what I mean.”

Izuku gently moves the girl’s finger from his lips and smiles back at her, nodding. “I noticed it in you too; when you first caught me when I tripped outside the school, that was. Well, it was something I normally do for others, not one others do for me. Uraraka-s… Uraraka-chan,” they both blush at that, but Izuku presses on, “I humbly accept, and I’ll do my best to do right by you.” The pair lapse into comfortable silence then, sharing in one another’s presence as they eat before making some more smalltalk as they wait for one of the robots to circle back around so Izuku can buy dessert - two warabi mochi sets, another melon soda for Uraraka-chan, and this time a C.C. Lemon for himself that makes him feel a bit wistful. Just as the duo are about to dig in, they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat lightly, and they turn in unison towards the sound.

The sight that greets them is about as out of place as it gets: a boy around their own age in a clean-pressed suit that is definitely too fancy for a midtown mall, clutching a plastic shopping bag from the nearby watch store. What’s nearly as striking is his hair, a perfect split of white and red parted down the middle, and the nasty burn scar it partially covers up on one side. When he speaks, it’s directed at Izuku, and his voice is soft and calm. “I apologize for interrupting your date. I noticed your shirt while I was walking past. I was wondering if you made it yourself, perhaps? I like it a lot.”

Izuku offers a small smile to the boy, shaking his head. “No, actually, this was a gift! I could tell you where I got it if you want? Oh, but you’ll need an invitation; the store owner only sells specialty items like this to people with introductions.” The boy looks crestfallen, and Izuku waves a hand to keep him from walking away. “Don’t worry! I’ll send him a text and tell him you’re coming - it’s a place called Risen, down that way, it’ll be the only clothing shop with a sign in English. If I can get your name, I’ll make sure Kevin knows you’re good to buy!”

The boy hesitates. Weird. “It’s. My name is Shoto.” Okay, nothing weird about that. “Todoroki Shoto.”

Uh. Todoroki, Todoroki, why’s that name ring a bell… Wait. Enji.

That. Well. That explains a few things. And very hopefully absolutely does not explain at least one other thing. “Right! Got it, one specialty Fuck Endeavour Club shirt for Todoroki Shoto.” Tapping away at his phone, Izuku sends the text off, then, somewhat on a whim and somewhat out of instinct, pulls a different phone from his bag and stands from his seat, quietly slipping it into the other boy’s shopping. “And this is a special gift from me,” he murmurs quietly, “in case you ever need it. Untrackable, untraceable, fully encrypted, and it has some numbers pre-programmed - including mine. Set the password and nobody will ever be able to open it but you. If you need someone to talk to, day or night, it’s got text and call both. And if there’s an emergency, it has a function for that too - instructions are in the notes app.”

Leaving the incredibly befuddled looking boy standing there, Izuku returns to his seat, his smile only growing wider when a look of understanding dawns on Todoroki’s face. The bichromic boy’s spine stiffens, and he drops into a deep bow before turning and walking away, seemingly both incredibly nervous and with a much lighter step than he’d had before.

“Midoriya-kun, what was that all about? What did you do?” Uraraka’s cheeks are stuffed with mochi, which is a sight to absolutely die for, causing Izuku to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Just helping someone out, Uraraka-chan! Like any good Hero would, you know?” Picking up a piece of his own mochi, he settles into his chair and prepares to explain the significance of the Todoroki name, his own shirt, and his absolute enmity for the so-called Number Two Hero.

Chapter Text

It’s official: Quirk Apprehension Tests suck ass. Back at Aldera they had only been done annually, and Izuku had been exempt from them all anyway, but they had been at best super basic demonstrations of one’s Quirk to prove that dumbass junior high students could be trusted not to hurt anyone. Even apart from the intensely embarrassing moment of Aizawa-sensei erasing his Quirk right as he’d been about to use it the first time, trying to do actual real sports stuff with it was something that managed to get left out of the New American Dream Plan somehow. Despite Toshinori being a long-time alum of UA himself. Izuku is going to be having words with the man. Words like ‘why’ and ‘what the hell’ and ‘is there anything else you forgot to mention about UA, perhaps?’

They’re done, though, and Izuku had even managed to keep his bones intact this time! It strikes him that he absolutely should not be celebrating something as simple as not shattering every bone in his arm during a basic fitness exam, but this is his life now. And also his life now is a special type of hell that sucks even more ass: regularly using changing rooms. Not that he has a particularly strong sense of modesty given the type of company he’s kept for several years, but being partially nude with a group of rowdy teenage boys has rarely, if ever, gone well for him. Admittedly, he hasn’t run into any problems thus far, but the kind of nerves that come along with years of verbal and physical harassment don’t just go away overnight, especially when one of your childhood bullies has managed to end up in the same class as you yet again. But, Kacchan had finished putting on his new Hero outfit and left already, so Izuku should be in the clear.

Or so he thinks, because apparently he’s forgotten about the scars on his shoulders and upper back.

“Yo, Midobro, those look mad gnarly! You okay?”

“A-a-ah, yeah, Kirishima-san, they’re j-j-ust some old injuries; nothing to worry about!” He hastily pulls his jumpsuit up over his shoulders and offers the other boy a smile that’s as wide as it is fake.

The muscular redhead’s own smile is even wider, and much more genuine. “Sure thing Midobro! And like I said, you can just call me Kirishima; all that -san stuff makes me feel old! Figure it’s a fair middle ground from calling me Eijiro. Meet you out there!”

“Right, got it! See you in a few, Kirishima!” Izuku watches the other boy bound off towards the exit and shakes his head at his seemingly-boundless enthusiasm. He’s like a particularly large puppy, which Izuku finds both incredibly endearing and probably easier to deal with in small doses until he gets acclimated. “Okay, I can do this. Just go out there, avoid Kacchan, get the grade, go home and work on the patrol route. Simple.”

With that self-pep-talk done, Izuku dons the last piece of his costume, the filter mask, and moves towards the exit as well, barely sparing a glance for the final few of his classmates to still be getting into their own gear before he’s heading down the hall and into Grounds Beta where Toshinori - in his fully inflated All Might form - and Aizawa-sensei are waiting to explain the assignment for the class, which they do as soon as the final stragglers arrive. A two-on-two battle trial doesn’t seem so bad, so long as he manages to avoid the unfortunate fate of getting paired up on a team against-

“And here are the teams from the random generation! Uraraka Ochako and Midoriya Izuku versus Iida Tenya and Bakugo Katsuki!”

Of course. Of goddamn course the kami hate him enough to not only make him not the one person sitting out for this trial with the odd number in the class, they really would make it fate for him to be facing down Kacchan on his literal first day of class. He can hear the other boy’s teeth gritting and Quirk crackling from here, and silently begins praying that it will at least be a swift knockout. He may have One for All now, but he’s nowhere near mastering its potential, and going up against someone who has spent a decade not only using his Quirk almost exclusively for combat, but said combat being quite often with Izuku himself? He’s cooked. Literally cooked!

“All Might-sensei, Aizawa-sensei, I want to make a complaint about these pairings.”

Wait, what?

Aizawa-sensei turns his tired, cranky glare upon the student who had dared to speak out, causing the rest of the class to follow his line of sight. “Pardon?”

Todoroki Shoto - who Izuku was quite surprised to see in his class that morning - maintains a bored, disinterested look in the face of his teacher’s gaze, seeming thoroughly unimpressed in a way that only the son of a rich and powerful Pro could pull off. “Or, two complaints, really. The first is them being random. I can see the basic idea of wanting to throw us into completely unknown teams as a way to show us how Pro Heroics often works, but doing that on the first day seems poorly thought-out. At this stage we’d be better off with pairings inspired by our Quirks so that we can learn cooperation instead. And my second complaint is that you managed to sit me out when I’m the one who probably needs the most experience, since I didn’t even participate in the group battle of the entry exams.”

Groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose, Aizawa-sensei freezes suddenly for a moment when he notices Todoroki’s hand move by his side in a weird way, a gesture that almost looks like JSL, then slowly brings his own hands together, asking silently, “is there something else going on here?”

“There is. I don’t want the rest of the class to overhear.”

With a cautious nod, Aizawa-sensei slouches over to where Todoroki is standing and engages him in a flurry of sign, which Izuku politely looks away from, not wanting to make it obvious to the two that he knows the language, nor to eavesdrop inadvertently. After a brief exchange, Aizawa-sensei straightens, turns, and gestures to All Might. “Right. I’ve got a backup; let the kids know their new pairings based on the list on the back of the lesson plan. I’m going to escort Midoriya here to the surveillance room myself - he’s our new odd man out, and I don’t want him getting lost. Go over the details carefully, Yagi. Midoriya, with me; you’ll be doing a battle analysis report instead.”

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Izuku darts over to where Aizawa is waiting (and almost missing Todoroki’s swiftly-signed “sorry”), tensing a little as the man rests a hand on his shoulder to guide him out of the main grounds and into a side room with a wall full of televisions, camera feeds from the building the battle trials are going to take place in from the look of things. Aizawa-sensei gestures for Izuku to sit in one of the chairs near the front, sinking into the one next to it himself. “Midoriya. I’m going to ask you a question. Do not answer me right away; I don’t want a snap response, I want you to put that big brain of yours to work. Do you want me to expel Bakugo Katsuki?”

What? What? What the hell? What? “Aizawa-sensei, I-”

“Nope,” the Pro Hero holds up a hand to interrupt, “don’t say anything yet. I know it’s a lot to take in at once, but I also know you got a perfect score on the written portion of the entrance exams five full minutes before the expected minimum time. You’re a smart kid. And luckily for you, you also have some smart friends. So. Take your time. And keep in mind that no matter what your answer is, you are not going to be punished. Nothing you tell me will go on your record. You won’t even have to talk to Hound Dog about it. This is all your decision, and I will respect whatever it is you do or do not decide to disclose.”

Izuku has never been so confused in his entire life, but before he can try to ask for clarification, more of the class filters in to watch the coming fight on the large section of screens, and he falls silent. Both his girlfriend and his new friend are finishing up their preparations, Todoroki being paired with Uraraka in his place and their roles being switched to defending, but another girl slides easily into the chair next to him, scooting it a bit closer.

“You must be Midoriya, kero. Ochako-chan told me all about you; I’m Asui Tsuyu, but you can call me Tsuyu. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself this morning, I was busy catching up, kero. Well, that and getting used to a uniform with a skirt - it feels great, but it’s still pretty new.”

Right, Uraraka-chan had mentioned an old friend of hers was going to be joining them at UA, and also that said friend was known for being blunt and straightforward in pretty much every interaction. The only thing she had failed to mention was how cute she was! He doesn’t know if those little ribbits are reflexive because of her Quirk, or just a habit she developed, but they’re very nearly on par with Uraraka-chan’s accent. Wait, no, down boy, you’ve got a girlfriend now. “Great to meet you, Tsuyu-san! I look forward to getting to know you as one of Uraraka-chan’s friends; maybe we can all hang out after class!”

The pair turn their attention to the screens when Aizawa-sensei clears his throat, and Izuku digs a small notepad out of the utility belt at his waist, scrawling a couple of shorthand sentences as soon as the skirmishing starts, to be transferred to his full-sized notebook later. “Todoroki-san made those ice walls pretty thick, but clearly not thick enough to keep out Kacchan. But those shards are going to make good ammo for Uraraka-chan’s Quirk if she can get to enough of them, and also assuming she can actually manage to hit either Iida-san or Kacchan himself. Hm, Todoroki-san seems to be avoiding making a large glacier to try and ice them out; I wonder if he’s worried about collateral damage to the building? He’s not using the other half of his Quirk either, is it because of the close quarters? No, that doesn’t seem right, there’s no way he wouldn’t have the kind of control necessary to make that a non-issue; is he just worried about how flame-retardant Iida-san’s outfit is? Seems a bit overly cautious for someone as calculating as him, maybe there’s something else going on here, I wonder if he has some sort of problem with using his flames…”

“Wow, Ochako-chan wasn’t kidding, kero, your muttering is adorable. You really can’t help yourself when it comes to Quirks, can you?”

Despite the frog girl’s expression being just as neutral as before, Izuku can’t help but feel Tsuyu is wearing a shit-eating grin on the inside as she stares at his flushed face. “H-hey! I resent that entirely factual and completely accurate assessment of my character! Though I will say that adorable is a bit much; I will accept ‘cute’ or ‘amusing’, maybe. Take it or leave it.”

Tsuyu’s only response is a croaking laugh as her attention returns to the battle trial, right in time to see Iida Tenya go flying out a window at Mach Fuck, having been on the wrong side of Uraraka’s Quirk while running at full speed. Kacchan is nowhere to be seen amongst all the smoke and rubble, but the buzzer going off signifies the end of the fight. All Might, who caught the flying Iida, commends them all and directs Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida to the surveillance room, sending medivac bots to escort Kacchan to the nurse’s office. At Aizawa-sensei’s direction, Tsuyu heads out along with Tokoyami, Sero, and Hagakure. Certainly an interesting lineup, and one that has Izuku scrawling on his notepad again as Uraraka takes the seat Tsuyu had vacated. Before he can say anything to her, however, Todoroki gets his attention with a gentle tap on his shoulder, gesturing for him to follow. Ever-curious, Izuku murmurs assurances to his girlfriend before walking over to the back of the room with his newest friend.

“I wanted to apologize,” the bichromic boy signs, “for interfering like that. But you helped me a lot when we first met, and I felt the need to return the favour.”

“What exactly did you tell Aizawa-sensei?” Izuku signs back, glad he picked up JSL at a young age. “He asked me if I wanted Bakugo expelled!”

Sighing rather morosely, Todoroki makes his confession simple. “I told him I saw the scars on your back. The burn scars on your back. And I told him that the nickname ‘Kacchan’, the one you still use for the boy who treated you like my father does me for so many years, lends itself very well to the name ‘Katsuki’; the name of the student in our class with an explosive Quirk. We both put two and two together, and he agreed to change the pairings for the class to a predetermined list instead of the random one that All Might planned for. I wasn’t planning to say anything without asking, but when you got paired up against him, I panicked. I understand if you’re upset with me.”

Izuku’s own sigh is much less morose, but still a little defeated. “I’m not upset with you, Todoroki-san, just a little frustrated in general. Being put in the same class as Kacchan was unexpected, and being paired against him in the battle trial freaked me out, so I am thankful to you for stopping that. Can I have a hug, please?”

Todoroki nods slightly, and the pair exchange a quick embrace before returning to their seats. Uraraka-chan smiles patiently, willing to wait for him to talk about things when he’s ready, which he appreciates. The rest of the trials go smoothly, Izuku making a plethora of notes and only lapsing into a mutter storm three more times (a record low for him), and soon enough the class is filing out of the surveillance room to get changed back into their regular uniforms. Aizawa-sensei trails behind, looking pointedly at Izuku, who nods.

“I’ve thought about it, like you asked, and my answer is no, Aizawa-sensei. Kacch-. Bakugo-san may be a bully and a jerk, but I think he’s misguided, not inherently a terrible person. I don’t want the black mark of an expulsion on his record, and I don’t want him to lose his dream of attending UA because of the things he did to me. That is, however, dependent on how things go in the future - on if he’s willing to change. If he keeps being the kind of person he was when we were younger, by all means, expel him. But give him a chance to do better.”

Aizawa-sensei’s expression doesn’t change, but he does blink, slowly and carefully. “Right. That is a very mature response; good for you, kid. With your endorsement, I’ll recommend he be placed into our probation program rather than expelled outright; this’ll give him that chance to be less of a little bastard. But if he’s not willing to put in the effort? I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out it was you who got him on the probation track in the first place when he’s gone. Sound good?”

Izuku nods, falling into step with his teacher as they head back towards the change rooms. “Thank you, Aizawa-sensei; for the opportunity to say something, and for listening. I haven’t gotten a whole lot of that in the past, especially when it comes to Bakugo-san.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Seriously, don’t; I have a reputation to maintain as a hardass. Go get dressed and meet your friends, do whatever it is kids do these days. Me, I’m going to grade some paperwork and take a nap. And your assessment report is due first thing tomorrow, so don’t be late.” With a pat on the shoulder that’s almost affectionate, Aizawa-sensei slumps off in the direction of the staff room, leaving Izuku to smile after him. Hardass indeed.

This year at UA is going to be Izuku’s first in a school that actually cares about him, and as much as he enjoys going home every night, for once he’s actually looking forward to coming back in the morning.

Chapter Text

Quirk suppression cuffs are itchy. Not in the way that a chafing handcuff is expected to be itchy, but a full-body, scalp-to-toes, absolutely goddamn maddening itch. What was supposed to have been a simple in-and-out job, ten minutes max charged at the regular rate, had turned into a slugfest with no fewer than six different Pro Heroes, right up until motherfucking All Might himself had shown up. The man wasn’t even supposed to be in Japan right now! How’d he shown up in exactly the worst possible place at the worst possible time? And speaking of places that suck ass, where the hell is this anyways? The customer hadn’t said anything, and it had been impossible to tell while being frog-marched in through an underground entrance. All that’s visible now is a steel table, two chairs on the other side, a small CCTV camera, and the door which is opening to reveal fucking Eraserhead to top everything else off on this absolute shitshow of a day.

The lanky, exhausted-looking man places a recorder on the table, drags out one of the chairs, and sits down in it backwards. “Right. Let’s get this over with.” He clicks the recorder on and clears his throat. “Stating for the record, interview with a prisoner in custody of UA High School under authority of Pro Hero Eraserhead. Registered Quirk, Magnetism. Known alias, ‘Big Sis’ Magne. Legal name…” Erasershead looks up at her from the paperwork in his hands, lifts one eyebrow, and scribbles something out with a pen. “Legal name unknown.” Well, isn't that downright kind of him. This also tells her she’s at UA High School, which is. What the actual fuck. “Keeping to the schedule, but Detective Tsukauchi is-”

“Right here, Eraserhead,” A man in an incredibly tacky trenchcoat enters the room, setting his even tackier hat on the table as he pulls up the other chair. “Tsukauchi Naomasa, detective with the First Precinct, on the record; reflect that I will be using my Quirk to assist in this interview. Anything you’d like to say before we begin, Magne?”

She’s been through this song and dance enough times to know when to keep her mouth shut, but she’s also not a complete moron: not talking here isn’t going to work, not when she’s dealing with both a Pro Hero and UA itself. “Let the record show that I, Magne, was not made aware prior to arrival that the target of the attack perpetrated by those who hired me was UA High School.” It’s not much, but maybe it’ll get her a bit of leniency.

The detective makes a mark on the file with his own pen, then passes it back to the Hero. “So noted. Eraserhead?”

Drumming his fingers against the steel of the table, Eraserhead grunts in acknowledgement. “You’re currently being charged with illegal Quirk usage, resisting arrest, trespassing, assault and battery, destruction of property over fifty thousand yen, conspiracy to commit Quirk-assisted crime, and… Naomasa, is this right?”

“It is.”

Another world-weary sigh. “And terrorism.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck fuck. Of course. Of fucking course assaulting UA would get her slapped with a fucking terrorism charge. Shit!

“However.” However is good, Magne likes the sound of however. “I am authorized to refile charges as I see fit, if you prove cooperative.” Okay, less good. Rat the rest of them out to maybe dodge the terrorism charge if she’s lucky, and be labelled a snitch when she goes back in? That’s a hard fucking sell. Terrorism carries a minimum five years in Tartarus, but maybe she’ll get lucky and beat it! She opens her mouth to tell Eraserhead exactly where he can shove his buddy’s tacky hat, but gets interrupted by the sound of a phone going off. Rude as fuck much? This asshole is about to ruin her life and he can’t even be assed to put his phone on silent first!

“Little bit busy. Yeah. Uh huh. Right, I’ll handle that part of it, you do the draft letters. Of course you do. No, put Yagi on it. Right. Okay, bye.”

When he carelessly tosses the phone down on the table, Magne gets a good look at it and feels an incandescent rage boil up inside of her. Because she knows it. Of course she knows it. “What the hell is a Pro Hero doing with a phone like that?”

“Huh?” He has the gall to look confused, picking up the phone and turning it around in his hands. “You recognize it? Can’t say I’ve seen another.”

“Yeah, I recognize it,” she snaps, lip curing into a sneer, “that’s an Asru Auto. You can’t just grab one off the shelf in a retail store, they’re special. So how did you end up with one, huh? Steal it off some poor villain you got locked up?”

“What kind of a moron-?” Eraserhead grumbles, flipping his chair around to sit in it properly. “No, a kid in my class gave me this when I broke mine. Says he carries them around, gives ‘em out to people who need one. I'll give it back if it’s that special.”

Hold on. Hold the fuck on. “Midoriya is a student at UA?”

As soon as the shocked words leave her lips, every single nerve in Magne’s body starts screeching that she’s in danger. She is also suddenly very aware that there’s a combat knife tucked into Eraserhead’s toolbelt, which she can just barely see past the face that’s suddenly inches from her own. She can smell his lunch as he growls, the kind of animalistic sound that comes out of a very protective mother bear. “How the fuck do you know that name?”

“Eraser.”

The detective’s short intercession breaks the spell, if not the tension, and Eraser slams back into his seat with a dull thud, waiting. Magne swallows hard. “There is exactly one person who can buy the Asru Auto in bulk, and is known to carry them around to hand out to people. The Saviour of Musutafu. Every whore, low-life, and bum in the whole of Shizuoka knows the name Midoriya Izuku.”

She can tell by his expression, the way his rage dies out, that he recognizes the title. “He helped out a real good friend of mine not too long gone. He’s helped a lot of people just like her. Just like me.” She can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, but it’s tinged with sadness rather than anger. “Did all the same shit I tried to do for years; they don’t call me ‘Big Sis’ for nothing. Only he’s good at it, unlike me. Best there’s ever been.”

If the Saviour of Musutafu got into UA somehow, if he’s being taught by a Pro Hero - even a lesser-known one like Eraserhead - that changes the math completely. Magne sighs her own world-weary sigh, sitting up straight and pushing her shoulders back as much as she can with her wrists cuffed to the table. “I was hired on a temporary basis by a group without a standing name. New kids on the block, not a lot going for them except for the fact that they had clean money somehow - the friend who recommended the job ran samples of it himself. It was a pretty simple gig, and I needed the cash to help land on my feet after getting out of detention. All I had to do was go through their guy’s Quirk portal, lead the media vultures on a merry little chase around the block, come back around after they’d wrecked the big door, then hop back through the portal and grab the other half of my cash. Only, those assholes left me there when the alarms started going off. And, you know the rest.”

The detective finishes scribbling down the information she’s offered in shorthand, nodding to Eraserhead when he looks over. “I just have one question then, Magne: why the sudden desire to cooperate? You sounded like you were ready to bite Eraser’s face off a minute ago.”

The broad-shouldered woman snorts, shaking her head. “You probably wouldn’t get it, mister silk socks. I’ll eat a snitch’s death any day of the week if it means giving back to that kid. Any one of us would. Big Sis Magne will go down with a smile on her lips knowing she did it to help Midoriya, not that he wouldn’t try to stop me if he knew. That’s just the kind of person I am.”

Eraser clicks off the recorder with a grunt, signing the paperwork and sliding it over to the detective who takes it and leaves, tacky hat firmly on his head. The Pro stuffs his things back into various pockets before standing himself. “Someone will be by soon to get you. If I’m lucky, it won’t be me. The detective and I will discuss the charges, as well as which, if any, will be dropped in light of your cooperation.”

“Eraserhead!”

The man glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised again.

“Midoriya’s a good kid. A damned good kid. You look after him, okay?”

The man’s reply will haunt her dreams for weeks. “I plan to. But you should know: because of what those thugs who hired you did, a direct attack on UA leaving behind a known villain in front of a whole kettle of media vultures? The much-vaunted Saviour of Musutafu won’t be able to go home to his mother every day after class anymore.”

Chapter Text

Ten months. That’s how long Midoriya Izuku was supposed to have his life disrupted. Train with All Might for ten hellish months, become the new holder of One for All, get accepted to UA, then go back to almost completely normal - just a slightly longer commute to and from school. He was supposed to be able to jump feet-first back into his nightly patrols, get the lives of those around him back into gear, and return to helping all the disparate people he helps in Musutafu. But instead, here he is, moving in to a new home: the Heights Alliance 1-A dormitory towers. His whole life has gone from disrupted to upended, he’ll need to work out an entirely different patrol route even assuming he can figure out how to get off-campus at night without being caught, and to top it all off, there’s a frog-girl in a blanket all up on his woman!

“Tsuyu-san! What gives?”

“Oh, there you are Midoriya. Sorry, I’m stealing your girlfriend for a little bit, kero. I need a cuddle buddy.” Uraraka-chan smiles over the blanket-wrapped Tsuyu, her dimples highlighting the pink spots on her cheeks.

“No fair!” Izuku hits the duo with his trademark pout, hands on his hips and brow furrowed. “I want cuddles too!”

“Aw, babe,” Uraraka-chan giggles, “don’t worry, I promise we can cuddle after!”

“Who said I meant with you?” Izuku retorts with a smirk, “I’m talking prime froggy snuggles!”

Uraraka-chan’s mock gasp of outrage is drowned out by Tsuyu’s croaking laughter, and Izuku can’t help but join in. “Well, I don’t feel sorry for you at all then, so there! Anyways, the temperature was set way too low when we got here this morning, so we’re just getting Tsuyu-chan warmed up before we start moving her in.”

“Skirts are great for gender euphoria but bad for keeping me warm, kero. Where’s all your stuff, Midoriya?”

“Mom’s gonna be bringing it all over later when she gets off work - she insisted on helping me get moved in, but she couldn’t really call out today.”

Slowly, the rest of the class begins to filter in, wandering around the massive entryway and through the kitchen and dining area, waiting on instructions for where to begin taking their things. Eventually, Aizawa-sensei appears in their midst, calling everyone together into the main area by the doors. “Right, hellions, pay attention because I really don’t want to repeat myself here today. Down that way are the boy’s dorms, this way here are the girl’s. You can draw lots to decide who goes where, or you can pick and choose off the map, whatever you decide on just as long as nobody starts throwing hands over it. Information such as visiting hours, your new campus maps, emergency evacuation procedures, and all that fun stuff is in the information packets you’ll find in each room. If you find yourself missing anything that you couldn’t bring from home, make it Yagi-sensei’s problem and not mine please. Any questions? Yes, Tokoyami.”

“Sensei, has there been nothing planned for those students who are by nature neither masculine nor feminine in the truest depths of their soul of souls?”

It takes Aizawa-sensei a few moments of utter bafflement - not that his face shows much - to understand the question. “Oh, nonbinary students. Well, I brought the question up during the staff meeting when we designed the place, but I never actually got a direct answer.”

“Allow me to elucidate upon the matter then, dear Eraserhead!” The squeaky voice that comes from one of the air vents causes several students to jump, as does the appearance of the creature that clambers out of it. “Am I a mouse? Am I a bear? More importantly, I’m the principal! You see, students, we are mandated by the government of Japan to have dormitories for underage students be separated into boys and girls sides, with minimal crossover except in common areas. However, I find this approach to be reductive in the extreme! So, it was decided that UA would follow the letter of the law, while thumbing its collective nose at the spirit! Thus, for any students who identify anywhere outside the binary, we have built additional student rooms in the third tower that also houses the staff rooms and the rooms for visiting Heroes, family members, and any emergency residents!”

Of this brilliant plan, Izuku hears exactly nothing. His ears are filled with static, and his body with lead. Every one of his muscles has seized up, and he can barely breathe. It feels like he’s drowning, floating away to the bottom of a cold, dark river. He can’t even register the terror gripping his heart, so overwhelmed is he by the feeling. And then, like a miracle, something breaks through.

“-dobro? Midobro? Hey, ba██ up, give ███ som█ sp█ce. Mi██ro, can you ███e?”

“-shima…”

“████ it’s me, it’s Kir██hima. Han█ ██.”

Vaguely, distantly, Izuku can feel himself being picked up. His lungs clench, his heart freezes, and then he’s set down again, against something soft. It’s cold. He’s cold.

“C███? Sh█t, righ█. Wh█ can I ██t?”

“Ra… ka…” Speaking is pain, the tightness in his throat and the ringing in his ears.

“███rak█, I ca█ do ████.”

He can feel another body pressed against him, hands wrapped around his. Soft, tiny spots of pressure on his inner wrist, like the toe pads of a cat.

“██st keep doi██ what yo█’██ d███g. Denki, I ██ll slap ███ fuck ou█ ██ you if you say anyt█ng right now, I █wear to ██ry kami. Back. Off.”

All at once, reality comes rushing back in, and Izuku chokes on it a little. He’s sitting in one of the oversized beanbag chairs in the TV room, Uraraka-chan cuddled up against him on one side and Tsuyu sitting on the opposite. Kirishima is glaring daggers at Kaminari, before turning and crouching down in front of him. He offers a small, wan, shaky smile, and it’s returned by an unusually subdued one by the redhead. “Hey, Midobro. You back with us?”

“Y-yeah. S-s-s-orry.”

“Nah, bro, don’t even worry about it!” The larger boy reaches out a hand to grab one of Izuku’s own, interlacing their fingers and squeezing firmly. “Wanna tell me what triggered it, or nah? Your call man.”

He nods hesitantly, pressing closer against his girlfriend and squeezing Kirishima’s hand back. “Doesn’t happen often, but sometimes someone suddenly appearing, like Principal Nedzu, can set me off. Just. A panic response.”

Kirishima nods solemnly and claps him on the shoulder. “Damn glad I took that child psychology course over the break to boost up my grades! A truly manly Hero can help in more than just a fight, you know!”

“Are you,” Izuku manages a weak laugh, “calling me a child, Kirishima?”

“You sure are sized like one, Midobro! But jeez you’re heavy for someone who barely cracks five foot! What gives?”

This garners an even stronger laugh, along with a gigglesnort from Uraraka-chan. “I keep telling people, I’m not small, I’m compact! My muscles are dense; of course I weigh a lot for my size!”

Kirishima’s eyes light up, and his sharp-toothed smile is contagious. “Midobro, I’ve got it! Tiny puppy, dense as hell, you’re a pitbull!”

Both girls on either side of him double over with laughter, Uraraka-chan snorting hard and Tsuyu croaking up a storm as Izuku blushes. “Hey! I resemble that remark, you meanie. Okay, okay, laugh it up. And thank you, Kirishima, you were a big help. Really. Did you need to threaten Kaminari like that though?”

“‘Course, Midobro, it’s the manly thing to do! Gotta defend my buddy’s honour, even against my other friends.”

That is unexpectedly touching, and Izuku opens his arms for a hug, which Kirishima gladly gives before brushing himself off. “Okay! I’m gonna go pick out my room; gimme a shout if you need anything bro! Ladies!”

Taking a few more minutes to relax into Uraraka-chan, Izuku eventually leverages himself to his feet and kisses her on the cheek before heading off to the boy’s tower to select a room of his own. Surprisingly, nobody seems to have chosen the one nearest to the elevator on the ground floor, so he quickly scribbles his name on the map and grabs the key off its hook. The one across from it appears to be Todoroki’s, and he stops by to exchange pleasantries and hugs, with the icy-hot boy expressing his apologies for not being able to help much. A few reassurances, two more hugs, and a promise to hang out soon ends their impromptu get-together, and he moves off to the shared kitchens to see what’s going on there. And what’s going on appears to be Bakugo slamming all the cupboards open while grabbing a plethora of spice bottles from a box with his own neat, meticulous handwriting on it while Ashido and Kaminari watch on.

“No-good goddamn shitty school can’t even get some real seasonings in,” the blond mutters loudly, slamming down a huge spice rack on the counter. “What the fuck are they thinking? Lunch Rush-sensei must be getting fucked in the ass on the budget or some shit if all they can give us is fucking black pepper, salt, and goddamn gochugaru. Who the shit put sugar in with the spices? Morons! Oi, shitty nerd! Fucking help me out here, you know your shit unlike these two extras.”

Izuku rolls his eyes but steps into the kitchen anyways, moving expertly around the boy he used to call his oldest friend as they shift spices, herbs - dried and fresh - and assorted flavourants from boxes to cupboards, racks, and shelves. Soon enough, the work is done and the pair can step back to take stock of what else is there. Thankfully the selection of produce greatly outpaces the initial selection of seasonings, with plenty of fresh vegetables, meats, and three varieties of rice available. This gives Izuku an idea, and he drags the practically-industrial rice cooker over to get it rinsed out and plugged in, before scooping up a couple of the freshly-sorted spices. The movements catch Bakugo’s attention, and he grins. “Fuck me, are you making Auntie Inko’s veggie curry? Alright, you bunch of half-wits, everyone get the fuck out of the kitchen! Izuku is cooking lunch, and I don’t want you morons fucking it up for everyone! If you don’t know the Midoriya family recipe off by heart, fuck the fuck off!”

Waving his arms menacingly, Bakugo herds the onlooking students out of the preparation space, returning to wash his hands at the double sink alongside Izuku. “I’ll do the peeling and shit. For this many you’re gonna need the help, and I remember everything.”

And why wouldn’t he? When it comes to food, the Bakugo family are second to almost none. Izuku just nods and gets to work, falling into the comfortable routine of cooking preparations. With the two of them working in well-rehearsed unison, it doesn’t take long for everything to come together, and soon enough the pair are dishing out plates of rice drizzled with heaping servings of the delectable-smelling curry, which people hurriedly rush to the dining table to begin digging into.

“Right! If you gaggle of smooth-brains want to fuck up the flavour any other day that Izuku makes curry, you can slap on any toppings you want, but you’re having a bare fucking minimum of one plate today exactly as it’s served! Tape fuck, put that ketchup down or I’m gonna kick your ass into next year! Fucking ingrates.”

The meal itself is surprisingly quiet for such a sizable group of teenagers, with nearly everyone focused hard on eating amid occasional exclamations of how good it tastes and the sounds of people going back for seconds (or fourths, in Kirishima’s case). Luckily Izuku had thought to make enough to feed the class several times over, so there’s plenty to go around even if he himself sticks to just one plate. As he’s telling his girlfriend all about how the recipe came to be passed down from his maternal grandmother, he feels his phone go off, and pulls it from his pocket to check. “Oh! My mom’s here a bit early. Aizawa-sensei, you said you wanted to come out and talk to her, right? I’ll let her know we’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Before he can grab his plate to take to the sink, Bakugo snatches it out from under him and glowers. “Don’t you keep Auntie Inko waiting, dumbass; I’ll make sure all these shitty wannabes chip in to clean up since we made the food. Get your ass outside already.”

Aizawa-sensei slouches over to hand off his own plate, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. “Right, let’s get this over with. Yagi said he went to talk to your mother about the move to the dorms, but I barely trust that man to explain his own haircut to a barber so I wanted to make sure she understood everything going on. Especially given that the villain causing this whole mess knows you by name, problem child.”

“Look, Aizawa-sensei, I said I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know that I was going to become so famous just by helping people in need?”

The two continue to bicker lightly back and forth as they head out of the dorms and towards the guest entrance for the school, Izuku’s heart swelling with joy that he has a teacher he feels like he can actually be friends with, after a lifetime of hoping that they won’t be his enemy at best. As they approach the gates, he spots a familiar green ponytail and calls out to the plump woman, who turns with a bright smile on her lips, then nearly drops the box she’s holding with a small gasp.

“Shouta?! Kurogane Shouta-kun, oh my goodness is that you?!”

The man’s brow furrows deeply as he stares at the greenette, before his eyes widen and he actually takes a step back in surprise. “Akatani-senpai?! Holy shit it’s really you. Wow, how long has it been? Ah, and it’s Aizawa now; took my mom’s maiden name after all, like you told me.”

“Wait, wait, you two know each other? Mom, what the heck! You never told me you knew a Pro Hero!”

Midoriya Inko lets out a girlish giggle, handing her son the box she’d already carried out and using her Quirk to float over a few more from the curb. “Oh, he wasn’t a Pro yet when I knew him, but I’d recognize that hairstyle anywhere! I was his upperclassman in junior high; he went off to UA, I went off to nursing school and met your father… We fell out of touch. Is Hizashi-kun still well? Don’t tell me he’s a teacher here too! I should come in and catch up over some tea, if you’ve got the time!”

Aizawa-sensei grabs a few boxes himself, still looking a little shell-shocked to see his old senpai, and also to learn that she’s the mother of his most notorious student. “Yeah. Yeah, uh, Zashi’s good, and also a teacher. Started up his radio show like he always talked about. But uh, tea. Tea might not be the best idea. Not because I’m busy or anything, Aka- no, it would be Midoriya-senpai now, wouldn’t it? Um. Not a whole lot of easy ways to say this but. Nemuri’s a teacher here too.”

“Oh.”

That single syllable says a whole lot, but far be it from Izuku to not dig even deeper. “Mom, seriously, what the hell? You know Yamada-sensei and Kayama-sensei too?! I mean I know you don’t really listen to Put Your Hands Up Radio, but you’ve seen Midnight on TV a ton of times, how come you never said anything!”

The last time Izuku heard his mother sigh like that was as she dropped the divorce papers off in the mail room, when she had finalized things with his father. “Izuku, honey, Nemuri and I… We had a falling out. I never really brought it up because it involved your father.”

“I’ll say,” Aizawa-sensei grumbles, shifting his weight to grab his pass for the door. “I still don’t think she ever forgave you; she stopped crying every time we went out for drinks after a couple years, though.”

Oh. Well, that’s. Izuku doesn’t really know what to think about that, so he keeps quiet for the time it takes them to go through the guest wing and down the hall to the boy’s dorms, electing to bypass the main common area and the rest of the class. As he digs the key from his pocket, he hears his mom sigh again, and pauses to listen.

“I guess it’s not that easy to get over a broken heart, huh? Kami above, I wish I had known; we could have sat down and talked about it a long time ago. Shouta-kun, will you. Look, I know she probably doesn’t want to see me after all this time but could you give her something for me?”

Inko sets her single box down next to the piles carried in by Aizawa-sensei and Izuku, then pulls her lanyard out from where she’d tucked it into her jacket. She unclips something Izuku has seen her put on every new set of keys she’s gotten for as long as he can remember: a My Sweet Piano charm. It’s old and faded, and there’s scuff marks from where it was rubbing up against a matching My Melody for more than a decade and a half. She holds it out to Aizawa-sensei, who takes it with an air of reverence that’s practically alien to the man.

“You. Kept it.”

Inko nods, her smile small and sad. “I kept it. Even after everything that happened between the two of us, I could never bring myself to throw it away. Can you believe that Hii-san actually brought it up in the divorce proceedings? Jerk.”

Izuku has never heard Aizawa-sensei laugh before. It’s a quiet sound, but rich, and it brings a bit of a tear to his eye. The man gently pats Inko on the shoulder before turning to leave with a small bow. “I’ll make sure she gets it, senpai, but next time you get a day off, you owe me a drink for how hard she’s gonna punch me when she finds out we talked. Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“I won’t be, Shouta-kun. After all, my boy is in your care now.”

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku cannot get over the feeling of his girlfriend’s finger pads against his skin. The adorable little beans have such a unique texture, and as she slides them carefully and quietly under his shirt and along his stomach, he is compelled to bury his face in the crook of her neck and plant tiny kisses around her collar bone. It’s late, late enough that most of the rest of the class has gone to bed, and late enough that he himself has snuck back in from his evening patrol around Musutafu. Getting through the dorm’s security is almost insultingly easy, and he can’t help but think it’s being loosened around this same time every day on purpose. Or well, he would think so, if he weren’t so distracted by the second set of fingers kneading the tension out of his shoulders. Tsuyu is unfairly good at massages, and he has never been so glad of an unusual skill not related to Quirks in his life. He lets out a tiny whine of satisfaction as the frog-girl works out a particularly stubborn knot, practically melting into Uraraka-chan’s arms.

Combining his regular class schedule, his extra Quirk training electives, and his return to patrols has left his body a mess of aches, bruises, and tiredness, but getting to spend so much more time with all his friends more than makes up for it. Sure, he’s needed to go right back on the supplements that keep his form lithe and smooth, and maybe he needs to make use of Todoroki as an alternating heating and cooling pad after particularly strenuous days, but it delights him to no end that for once in his life, he has someone he feels close enough to to cuddle up against them. Several someones, even! What exactly is it about Tsuyu’s Quirked biology that makes her so nice to cuddle? Frogs aren’t exactly blubbery, he doesn’t think they’re really that soft either but he’s also never actually tried to cuddle a real frog before especially given how small the ones around his neighbourhood usually are and it’s not like he can go to the zoo to see the giant ones from Africa and ask to hug them or anything that would be frankly nonsensical and-

“Izuku, you’re muttering again, kero.”

“Mrflglbrgh,” the greenet replies helpfully, yawning and resuming his boyfriendly neck-kissing duties.

“Wow, Izu-kun, that was almost coherent!” Uraraka-chan tickles the very bottom of his ribs, causing him to giggle tiredly. “We should get you upstairs soon, babe.”

“I would say that would have been a good idea quite some minutes ago, Uraraka-san!” The voice that cuts in is so incredibly prim and proper that it can only belong to one person, and Izuku gives Iida a half-hearted glare as he looks up at the hall monitor jerk standing over him and making a chopping motion with his hand. “Public displays of affection such as this are highly inappropriate, you three! I am ashamed of each of you! You especially, Tsuyu-san!”

“Wait, kero, why me? I’m not in this relationship; Izuku and Ochako-chan are the lovebirds here, kero. You’re definitely making a mistake, Iida-san.”

“Yeah,” Todoroki pipes up from where he’d been hiding under a blanket nestled up against one of the large beanbag chairs. “It’s not like it’s springtime, Iida; you can’t expect Tsuyu to be hopping into a relationship any time soon.”

Oh wow. Watching Iida’s brain break in real time is actually really funny. His arm freezes mid-chop, and Izuku swears he hears a cartoonish creaking noise as he turns to face Todoroki. “I. Beg your pardon, Todoroki-san? What did you say just now?”

Ever unphased, Todoroki returns Iida’s incredulous stare with one of his own signature flat ones. “You know. Spring. Because she’s a frog. Also, what are you even doing up so late, class president?”

“I will have you know I was doing isometric exercises before bed! Wait, no, that’s not what’s important here at all!” Iida’s voice climbs into the quiet shout that he gets when he’s trying to lecture someone late at night without disturbing the rest of the class, and his arm chops start flying faster than his engines. “Todoroki-san, I am surprised at you! Such careless comments towards those with mutation-type Quirks is unbecoming of you, even given your upbringing! You cannot imply things like that about your classmates; you need to put more thought into what you say! One of these days that could land you in serious trouble! I am sure that Tsuyu-san is more than capable of defending herself against such blatant disregard for her humanity, but I would be remiss as class president to let such things slide! Futhermore-”

Deciding she’s let this go on long enough, Tsuyu finally chimes in, interrupting the boy’s ranting. “Iida-san. I go through heats in the spring, kero.”

“You… You what?”

Croaking out a chuckle, she sits up and fixes him with a flat, blank stare. “My Quirk gives me a really strong froglike biology, kero; and that includes having a breeding cycle. I was telling Shoto about it the other day when he was helping me warm up after a swim. I appreciate you defending my honour though, kero, that was very sweet of you.”

Yikes, the shade of red Iida is turning can not be healthy. Izuku is too sleepy to really worry, though, and simply returns to his kissing, now going ignored by the class president. He’ll get over it eventually.

“I see! Thank you for clarifying that for me, Tsuyu-san! Well, nothing to see here then I suppose that means I should get going I am feeling rather light-headed and would like to go take a very long very cold shower so I bid you all good evening!” Wobbling unsteadily, Iida takes a few steps towards the boy’s dormitories, managing to stumble twice in only four steps before Uraraka-kun leaps into action (proverbially; her hands are still tangled under Izuku’s shirt after all).

“Not so fast, you dehydrated criminal! Tsu, Todoroki, emergency cooldown procedures, go!”

Applying the plan the group had originally developed to help the stubborn Izuku wind down after a workout, Tsuyu flicks out her long prehensile tongue and wraps it around a surprised Iida’s waist, casually lifting him and tossing him towards the now-standing Todoroki, who catches him in the blanket and uses the falling weight of his own body to trap the larger boy in a hug against the beanbag chair, exuding a calming chill from the frosty half of his Quirk. Ignoring the class president’s stammered protests, the bichromic boy shifts around beneath him so he has one leg wrapped around Iida’s waist, an arm up under his chest, and his chin resting on the bespectacled boy’s shoulder, bumping his glasses askew.

“Mission accomplished, Commander Uraraka.”

As the three on the couch begin to laugh, Iida can’t help but join in with them, the sheer silliness of the situation overcoming his usually serious mien. “Alright, alright, I appreciate it. And again, I apologize for my assumptions, Todoroki-san, Tsuyu-san! Oh, Gatorade, don’t mind if I do.”

Tsuyu watches as Iida gratefully guzzles the Western sports drink plucked from the extras in Izuku’s bag, croaking contentedly. “We should do this more often, Iida-san. You need to learn to let loose just a bit, kero; it’s good for your health.”

“I shall make note of this in my schedule, Tsuyu-san; I am sure I can pencil in a bit of silliness over the weekends!”

Izuku can’t tell if he’s serious or not; with Iida, it could go either way after all. Catching himself in a large yawn, he reluctantly pushes himself to his feet, gives Uraraka-chan a proper kiss on the lips, and claims his hugs from Tsuyu, Todoroki, and even Iida before making his way towards his rooms, leaving the others to get themselves to bed when they’re finally ready. Living at Heights Alliance has been a massive change, and thrown him for a loop harder than anything else has before, but it’s moments like this that make it all worth it. He hopes that after tonight, he can well and truly count Iida Tenya as one of his new friends, someone else to look out for, and who will look out for him in return.

Chapter Text

If there’s one good thing about living on school grounds, Izuku muses, it’s being able to get to class while totally exhausted without running the risk of falling asleep on the train and missing your stop. He knows he’s racking up way too much sleep debt, but there’s really not a single thing he can stop doing to add more rest to his packed schedule. This is much to the consternation of his girlfriend, who is currently cross enough to have cancelled their trip to the mall over the weekend and changed their date night to, as she put it, ‘a lap pillow cuddle session’. Not that he’s averse to the idea of spending hours laying his head on the girl’s plush, cushiony thighs, but he’d also kind of been looking forward to hitting up the arcade with Ochako-chan again now that she has her own deck to play on the Illusion Field they’d battled on on their first date. Plus, Kevin’s got a new shipment of fun shirts in, and he wants to get Todoroki something! He slams back the last of the energy drink he’d pilfered from Kaminari’s stash (well, not really pilfered; he’s not about to steal food) and sticks the can in the recycling bin by the door to the classroom before heading in.

Iida is, of course, already there, and much to his surprise is holding a vibrant conversation with the perennially-late Ashido Mina. This likely has something to do with the fact that each student’s desk has the briefcase holding their Hero outfit on it, and he pulls out his phone to check the class schedule as he slides into his seat, having forgotten to do so before leaving the dorms that morning. Good thing they weren’t in a different room this morning or he’d be really embarrassed. But no, it’s just the out-of-class excursion that Aizawa-sensei had mentioned a few days ago. The exact details haven’t been given out yet, but it’s taking up their Foundational Heroics schedule space so it was likely to be some new form of training. Logically, if they weren’t meeting in the usual training grounds, that would mean they were going somewhere new, with Toshinori starting up the next part of the curriculum. Which, if Izuku recalls correctly, is Rescue Heroics. Not really his strong suit, so he’s looking forward to being able to practice.

With some time to kill and no desire for conversation, Izuku pulls one of his many notebooks from his bag and flips to the most recent page of a personal project he’d started to kill time: theoretical Quirk analysis. As much fun as fictional Quirk analysis is, he’s not had enough time to keep up with books and shows as he would like, so he’s switched gears to inventing his own Quirks and then performing analysis on those - plus if any of his teachers ask, he can wave it off as practice. Right now, he’s working from physical mutations (in this case a stag’s horns), then building out a possible Quirk that would produce the mutations, and extrapolating its uses both inside and outside of Professional Heroics. It’s a fun and easy way to keep himself occupied, and he’s gone through a couple dozen this week while waiting for various people in various places on his patrols. Sitting in the vicinity of delivery health girls until their clients show up is a pretty common favour he offers, as is waiting with vulnerable youths between trains. It’s not much, but it’s what he can do, and he’s happy to do it.

His eyes habitually flick up to the door each time it slides open to reveal the next of his classmates to arrive, and eventually he spots Ochako-chan and Tsuyu entering together, smiling and laughing at something. His own expression lights up as his girlfriend dances over to the seat next to him, sneaking in a quick kiss, with his other friend pausing to ruffle his hair on her way past. “Hey girls!”

“Hello Izuku, kero; sorry we missed out on our usual morning jog - perky here kept me up half the night worrying about you - not that I’m not also starting to worry - and she had to drag me out of bed this morning, kero.”

“Tsu! Ya weren’t supposed to just go an’ tell him that!” Ochako-chan’s cheeks puff out in an adorable pout, and just a hint of her accent sneaks through. “But! I am a little bit worried, Izu-kun. I know you want to keep up with all the help you give people, but you’re gonna run yourself ragged! You won’t be of any help to anyone, least of all yourself, if you burn out.”

Izuku’s attempts to assuage his girlfriend and best friend’s fears are stymied by his body’s immediate betrayal as he lets out a massive yawn, which causes Tsuyu to croak humorously. “Alright, alright, you got me. Luckily for you two I talked to Mama Nya the other day about cutting my nights short for a while, and she also yelled at me about getting more sleep! She and a few of the other places in town were already thinking about scaling back street services a little anyway, and a lot of my end of the evening stuff was for them, so as of this weekend I’ll be getting back to the dorms a whole hour earlier than usual.”

“I’ll take it,” Ochako replies with a smile, leaning over for one more quick kiss before the clock ticks over and Aizawa-sensei’s stopwatch goes off, causing him to slowly rise from his place on the floor behind his desk while stripping off his sleeping bag. Maybe the Pro should think about capping off his own patrols too. Iida’s voice rings out with the usual instructions to stand, bow, and offer greetings, a routine executed cleanly enough to cause their teacher to raise a brow. “You little hellions have gotten good at that. Makes me worry that you want something from me. No, Iida, I’m not asking for an explanation, put your hand down. Right, anyway. Today we’re going to be heading over to one of the-”

“I am coming through the door like a normal person,” All Might booms out while throwing the door open wide, interrupting whatever Aizawa-sensei had been about to say and causing the other Pro to bury his face in his hand.

“Yagi, if you have to clarify that every time, you are not being normal, you-! Fuck it, I don’t care anymore. As I was saying. Today we’re going to be heading over to one of the specialty facilities on the other side of campus, along with All Might. We’ll be meeting up with a Rescue Heroics expert when we get there. If you have any questions, please discuss them among yourselves and send a representative to see me during office hours.”

“I was not aware you had office hours, Aizawa! Or even an office for that matter!”

“I don’t. Alright, hellions, grab your costume cases and get changed, then meet back here; once everyone is ready, we’ll be getting on a shuttle and heading out. Try and make it quick, it’s a ten minute drive and if we’re late getting there you’re all doing five laps of the gym tomorrow. Quirkless.”

Nothing makes a gaggle of teenagers move quite so quickly as the thought of collective suffering, so within a few minutes everyone is changed, back, and ready to file onto the shuttle bus. Izuku, Tsuyu, Ochako, and Todoroki all claim the row of seats at the very back, with Kirishima looking torn between sitting with them and the rest of the so-called ‘Bakusquad’ before Izuku waves him off with a smile, signing that he can join them on the way back. The ride isn’t long, but it’s just enough for Izuku to relax properly, tension easing out of his muscles as Todoroki uses careful control of his icy Quirk to apply a chilling touch to the back of his slightly bruised right calf. “Midoriya, what in the world were you doing on your last patrol?”

Even knowing the question isn’t judgmental at all, he can’t help but blush slightly. “I may have had to deal with a problematic customer of Shironeko-san’s. Who kicked me in the leg when I wasn’t looking.”

“Did you hit him back?”

“Only a little! It was self defence, and he definitely didn’t have the guts to bring cops into Mama Nya’s place so it was fine.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried about that. I think you should have used your Quirk on him, personally. You let some of these sleazeballs off too easy.”

“Todoroki!”

The purr of the bus’s engine is drowned out by the chatter of the students, several different conversations happening at once, and it’s nearly enough to have Izuku falling asleep. Out of reflex, he catches the energy drink that Kaminari chucks at his head, frowning at the other boy who gives him a double thumbs up. This one is downed like the other, the can placed in the trash bag by the doors as the class files off the bus to look up in awe at the massive building before them, their shock only growing as they’re escorted inside. Everyone knows UA has the highest operating budget out of any private school in all of Japan - which had been made all the more evident when they had offered to buy out the lease of all the students who were renting at the time of the switch to the dorm systems, a godsend to Ochako-chan - but this place was absolutely over the top, especially with that massive glass dome ceiling.

There’s a large map nearby, and standing next to it is the Rescue Heroics expert Aizawa-sensei had mentioned, the Space Hero: Thirteen, who has Izuku fanboying just a little. She raises a hand in greeting as the class approaches, flanked by Aizawa-sensei and All Might, her slightly tinny voice coming out from her suit. “Hello, children, and welcome to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint! As you can see by this map beside me, this special facility has all sorts of different locales built in, and today I am going to help lead you through a series of exercises that will assess your skills in different rescue scenarios, and help you hone them with simulations of real-world disasters. From a stranded climber in the Mountain Zone, to a boat lost at sea in the Flood Zone, you’ll be tasked with using your Quirks in innovative ways to help those in need! Being a Pro Hero isn’t just about combat, after all. Yes, you, Bakugo isn’t it? You’ve got a question?”

The blond shrugs a little, seeming much less arrogant than usual. “Yeah, sensei, what are we meant to do if our Quirks are shit at rescue? I can’t exactly bomb the mountain to get some jackass stuck at the top, now can I?”

“Oho, you’re that boy with the Explosion Quirk, aren’t you? Well, Bakugo, can you tell me what my Quirk is?”

“Huh? It’s Black Hole, ain’t it? You use high-power suction to get rid of rubble and shit from landslides and building collapses. The hell does that have to do with anything, sensei?” Okay, maybe slightly less arrogant.

“Absolutely everything! Why, if you were to come work with me, your Explosion Quirk would be a huge help! You could break down rocks, concrete, rebar, probably even reinforced steel into smaller pieces that my Quirk could more easily manage. That’s the kind of thinking I aim to help each of you develop starting today: how to look at your Quirk as a tool to help people, and not just a weapon to fight them.”

Izuku takes the time bought by this exchange to make a quick sketch of the map, roughly labelling each sector for study, before turning to Thirteen-sensei with a couple questions of his own. They all die on his tongue as he feels something pulse.

Down in the central plaza, a black fog drifts through the air, seemingly from nowhere, and seconds later it splits open into a hole in reality, through which pours a flood of people. The last through are a small man, not much older than the students themselves, covered in what appears to be severed hands, and a tall figure dressed in a simple suit vest, slacks, and shoes, with that same dark mist pouring out the ends of his cuffs and a metal bracer where his neck should be. The hands-wearing man scratches at his neck absently as he looks around, gaze eventually settling on the class. His dry, cracked lips split into a massive grin when he spots them, and his voice is equally raspy.

“Well well, Kurogiri, looks like our intel was spot on! All Might is here, just like the schedule said. Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on that fucker’s face when we start killing all his precious little Hero students! It’ll be such a great expression for his corpse to wear.”

Chapter Text

Bakugo Katsuki runs like his life depends on it. Not away, never away, fuck that! He’s running towards. Towards the danger, towards the villains, towards the unknown threat this mob of shitty fucking half-witted extras represents, palms sparking and teeth bared, roaring for all he’s worth, Bakugo screams towards the enemy. But, maybe for the first time in his life, his reasons aren’t purely selfish. Yes, he’s doing this to prove himself, but not only to himself. ‘You’re pathetic, Katsuki.’

As he charges, one of those stupid portals starts to open up in front of him, but it’s way too slow. He pivots mid-air, hand towards the floor, and propels himself over it with a short, sharp blast, executing a flawless aileron roll into a group of slack-jawed dimwits, promptly taking out at least half a dozen with a larger blast. Not giving these assholes time to recover, he launches into a flurry of spin-kicks to clear enough space to get himself into a wide stance, then yanks the pin from his right gauntlet with his teeth, unleashing a point-blank Claymore Gutbuster into the body of an invader and sending him flying through several others. “EAT SHIT AND DIE!”

The sounds of his own explosions, the pained screams of his victims, and the muddled shouting of the opponents all around him ring in his ears, and he clenches his teeth as someone gets a good hit in from the side before being met with a boot to the groin. There’s no holding back, no fighting clean. Not when his class is in danger, and not when he needs to prove himself worthy of being a hero. ‘You’re pathetic, Katsuki.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You wanna fucking run that one by me again?”

The tired-eyed man sitting behind the desk seems entirely unfazed by Bakugo’s snarl, nor the implicit threat in his voice. This is the first time a teacher hasn’t been cowed into submission by the crackling of his Quirk, but obviously a Pro is going to have more balls than all the inbreds running Aldera put together. Still, talking shit directly to his fucking face is a step too goddamn far.

“I said you’re pathetic, Katsuki. I meant it, too. Five complaints in two days, including one from another of your teachers. That’s the stupidest record we’ve ever had.”

How fucking dare this toilet paper wearing greasy haired son of a bitch?! “I don’t gotta sit here and take this shit! Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?! I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I ain’t fucking Deku; I’m the strongest goddamn student here, I’m gonna be top of the fucking charts, don’t you forget it.”

Aizawa just ignores him and continues scrawling his signature on whatever shitass forms he’s working on. Could this piece of shit teacher be any more goddamn rude? Bakugo slams his hand down on the desk, leaning in, and suddenly feels the emptiness that comes along with Erasure taking away his Quirk as the Pro glares right back. “First of all, if you ever say that name again, I’m gonna expel you on the spot. Slurs will not be tolerated in my classroom, nor anywhere else in this school. Second, sit the fuck down.” Bakugo can’t really do anything else here, so he sits. “That’s better. You wanna be number one? Top of the charts? Don't make me laugh. You’re nothing more than a bully and a coward. No, shut your goddamn mouth, I am still talking.”

Aizawa finally puts his pen down, interlacing his fingers and resting his chin on top of them. “It was brought to my attention that Aldera Junior High might have fudged your disciplinary record, so I did a little digging myself, and would you care to guess what I found? A long string of assaults, a history of bullying that stretches back to elementary school, and two write-ups from truancy officers who caught you in the vicinity of graffiti containing hate speech. They could never prove you held the paint can, but you were definitely palling around with whoever wrote that shit. And the mouldy cherry on this shit sundae was learning that the biggest target of your garbage behaviour? Your former best friend, a little Quirkless kid who both couldn’t and wouldn’t fight back. Only Midoriya isn’t so Quirkless anymore, is he? I bet that just fucking galls you.”

“Is that what this shit is all about?!” He’s goddamn right it fucking galls him. “What the fuck is up with that anyways?! The shitty little nerd wakes up his stupid fucking Quirk ten years late and suddenly everyone’s on his dick like he’s the second coming! What’s so fucking special about him, huh?!”

“... You really don’t know.” Aizawa rubs his tired eyes, leaning back in his chair with a groaning sigh. “Of course I have to be the one to do this. Fucking. Fine. Fine! Here; it’s public record as of last night anyway, you might as well give it a listen.” He pulls a recording device from one of the pockets on his tool belt, and sets it on the desk. “This is from the interview with that villain we caught, the one that attacked the school.”

Bakugo listens begrudgingly. “There is exactly one person who can buy the Asru Auto in bulk, and is known to carry them around to hand out to people. The Saviour of Musutafu. Every whore, low-life, and bum in the whole of Shizuoka knows the name Midoriya Izuku.”

What the fuck? What the actual fucking fuck?! Aizawa holds up a hand to cut him off, and lets the recording play until the end. “You probably wouldn’t get it, mister silk socks. I’ll eat a snitch’s death any day of the week if it means giving back to that kid. Any one of us would. Big Sis Magne will go down with a smile on her lips knowing she did it to help Midoriya, not that he wouldn’t try to stop me if he knew. That’s just the kind of person I am.”

There’s a sharp click as the recording ends, and Bakugo Katsuki can’t bring himself to break the silence that follows it. Midoriya Izuku, shitty little Quirkless nerd, the most pathetic student at Aldera Junior High, is the Saviour of Musutafu. He knows the title, of course he does - it had been circulating on the Hero forums for years, passing mentions all over of some guy who went around helping people across the city. He even owes the Saviour personally; not directly, but when a third or fourth cousin, still a member of the Bakugo family tree for all their distance, had been getting beat on by his husband, it was the Saviour of Musutafu who had gotten him placed in one of the only male domestic violence shelters in the whole prefecture. His own father had hauled him and his mom all the way to Shizuoka Sengen Jinja to ask the kami there to bless the Saviour with fortune and grace. To think they’d gone all that way to pray for someone who was right there at home.

To think there were people out there who would die for Midoriya Izuku. And that Bakugo had nearly killed the kid himself.

Aizawa finally breaks the spell, picking up the recorder and returning it to its pouch. “There. Now you know just what it is you’re being measured against. If you think you've got what it takes to be a hero - not a Pro, a real hero, then get your shit together and prove it instead of acting like a selfish brat! Do something worthy of being the next number one. So you’re aware, you’re officially on probation. If you can’t get your shit together, then you’re going to be expelled, and you can kiss your dream of being a Pro goodbye. Dismissed.”

It’s not until he’s already home and sitting on his bed that Bakugo Katsuki even realizes he’d left. The whole trip home had been made in a fugue state as the weight of his sins crashed down on his head. It was enough to kill a lesser man - but not him. No, he was going to take this shame, this fear, this disgust with himself, and use it as a point to start fresh. Bakugo Katsuki was going to be better, going to prove to everyone he was worthy. Especially to Aizawa and Midoriya.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Panting and heaving, Quirk only growing stronger as the sweat pours down his body, Bakugo raises his hands again to blow away even more of the dime store losers surrounding him. He’ll never falter here, never fall here; he’ll clean up this fucking mess all on his own if he has to! He’s going to be the next number one, and he’s going to haul Midoriya’s nerd ass up with him if he has to drag the scrawny dork along kicking and screaming!

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Nomu.”

Out of nowhere, Bakugo can taste blood and concrete. Pain blossoms across his body, and he can barely breathe. Something is pinning him down, something massive, stepping on his back and holding his right wrist in a vice-like grip. He hears the raspy cackle of Fuckhands McMike or whoever the shit the crusty villain was, spitting out a growl in return. “Wow, wow, wow! I didn’t think we’d find such a strong Quirk here today. Isn’t he cool, Kurogiri? I want him. But he’s too fighty, we’ll have to fix that if we’re gonna bring him to the Doc. Nomu? Hurt him, but leave him in one piece.”

Agony unlike anything he’s ever felt in his life roars through his body, and Bakugo lets out a blood-curdling scream as he feels his right shoulder being twisted from its socket, hyper-extending in a spiral as his bones screech and give way. He feels several of his ribs pop under the heel of whatever the fuck is on top of him, his vocal cords nearly giving out as he continues his cries of endless agony. He can’t focus enough to spark his Quirk, and it’s an unknown eternity later that the weight lifts from his body. As his vision fades to black, he can hear someone shouting out a Carolina Smash. It sounds like Izuku.

Chapter Text

There is simply no way that these villains did even a cursory amount of research into the members of Class 1-A. If they had, Todoroki Shoto would not have been sent through one of the black mist portals to the Downpour Zone of all places. Really the only worse part of the USJ to have sent him would be the Flood Zone, because facing off against a high-powered ice Quirk in a water-laden environment is just asking for trouble. On the bright side, he’s now aware that he can turn rain into hail, which is probably going to come in useful somewhere down the line. He thinks this new bit of Quirk knowledge should definitely count as one of those small, every-day victories Izuku is always talking about. Separate, of course, from the overwhelming victory of using his Quirk to freeze at least twenty annoying criminals in a gigantic iceberg. They’ll probably be fine; he just has to release them after they pass out from a lack of oxygen but before they succumb to hypothermia. Because killing them would probably make Izuku cry. He’s sensitive like that.

And yes, maybe outsourcing his moral compass to a boy he’s only known for a few months isn’t the best idea, but really who else is he supposed to take that sort of advice from, Endeavour? He’s heard enough of the old bastard’s screeds on punitive justice and the death penalty - and Izuku’s on positive role models - to know that’s a much worse idea. Perhaps on another day, it may have even crossed Shoto’s mind to come to these conclusions on his own, but today he’s too busy using the complex mathematical formula he studied for precisely counting seconds to know when the bodies trapped in the glacier can be safely released and also trying not to think about how it took him so long to learn that that’s not a normal thing for someone to know. Or at least, not according to Ochako - apparently Izuku is a bad source for what counts as normal knowledge to possess, go figure. Relying on just one person to tell him how the world is supposed to work is something all three of his new friends agree on being a bad thing, which he’s still not entirely certain he believes, but he’s willing to at least take it under consideration. Especially since, unlike Endeavour or any of his private tutors, Izuku, Ochako, and Tsuyu have made it extremely clear that he is allowed to take things under consideration rather than simply following what they tell him. And more than that, he’s allowed to not reach any sort of conclusion at all! What a fascinating and unusual concept.

Lifting his left hand, Shoto prepares to start de-icing the first of the villains, calculating that he’s got more than enough time to reach the very last before they’re at risk of more than a bit of nasty frost bite, but a strange sound causes him to pause. It’s the sound of footsteps crunching through ice. Which means he missed one. That’s unlike him. Listening while simultaneously looking like he’s continuing about his business, he waits for the footsteps to come in range, then sends out another wave of ice, breathing a little heavily as his core temperature drops. He really needs to keep on top of that. Spinning on the ball of his foot to see who had managed to escape, he’s met with a shocking sight: a damp, grinning figure with stark white hair, surrounded by a puddle of water. That’s impossible. Making a snap judgment, he sends out another blast of frost and finds his suspicions confirmed when this new enemy reaches out a hand and touches the ice, turning it into a cloud of water.

“Ohhhh, I was so hoping I would get to be the one to find you! Hello little Todoroki boy,” the man calls out in a sing-song voice, dragging a hand along Shoto’s glacier and melting it as he slowly stalks forward, “you’ve really made my whole day! Himura Juro, at your service, son of Enji!”

Himura. A name Shoto hasn’t heard in a long, long time. A family he hates nearly as much as the Todorokis he’s descended from, for allowing one of their daughters to enter into a Quirk Marriage union with his father. And for what? Money. Despicable. Disgusting. “Hey. If you interrupt me right now, some of your comrades are going to freeze to death.”

The man freezes in his mocking bow, a quizzical expression on his face. “Um. What?”

Shoto helpfully hikes a thumb over his shoulder at the villain he’d been about to release from the ice. “These guys. I mean, I assume you’re with them, or maybe they’re with you, but if I don’t get them out of the ice soon they’re not going to make it.” He really doesn’t want Izuku to cry, but he’s sure the greenet will understand if he explains it wasn’t his fault that the invaders had been killed.

“That’s your big concern?! I come in here, undo your Quirk to your face, tell you that I’m going to get my revenge on your father for putting my cousin in a mental hospital by killing you, and you’re worried that a bunch of no-good low-life scum like these guys might die?!”

Shoto nods slowly. “Well, yeah. It’ll make my friend sad. Also, you didn’t say that last part. I mean, I kind of figured it was something to do with my mother the way you emphasized your family name like that. But you didn’t actually tell me you’re going to kill me.”

Oh wow that’s a big gun.

“Shut the fuck up, kid,” Juro shrieks, pointing the gigantic revolver directly at Shoto’s head, “I’m not interested in your fucking back talk! Now be a good boy and beg for your pathetic life! If you do, maybe I’ll settle for blowing out your kneecaps instead of your brain; crippling you for life would still be a pretty sweet deal as far as making Enji miserable goes; his perfect little soldier, reduced to an invalid, just like he did to Rei. And don’t think you can block my bullets with your stupid little ice Quirk either; I’m the true prodigy of the Himura family, I can take our clan’s famous Quirk and turn it upside down even at a distance! See, I read up on you, little Todoroki boy, and I know you - you can’t use the half of your Quirk that comes from your filthy fucking father at all!”

… Huh. Shoto supposes it must look like a lack of ability to an outsider. It’s true, after all, that he’s never been publicly seen to use the hot half of his Quirk before, even during the separate entrance exams for recommended students. At the time, it had been a great way to piss his father off, and he’d also been wrapped up in the idea that he should become a Pro Hero without it, since he did see it as the legacy of his father the same way Juro does. But that was before he’d met Izuku, before their late night chats together as he wound down from training sessions with his father, before he’d come to trust the other boy more than he’d ever trusted anyone - himself included. Because there was another lesson Izuku had imparted to him, Shoto recalls as he lets the flames lick their way up the left side of his body, allowing himself a sense of smug satisfaction as they roast his distant relative where he stands: this is his Quirk, not his father’s.

‘Look, I get where you’re coming from, Shoto-san, but hear me out. If you keep seeing it like that, you’re really just letting him win again. It’s not healthy to hold yourself back just to spite your shitty, abusive sperm donor! You should embrace it. Own it. Make it a part of who you are, rather than a memory of who he wanted you to be. And then, when you use it to become a better Hero, a better person than he ever was? It’ll feel all the nicer.’

He still hasn’t got very good control over his flames, so it’s hard to judge exactly when he should stop using them, but once Juro collapses to the ground and quits screaming seems like as good a time as any. This time he’s sure Izuku won’t cry, at least not once Shoto explains that the man had not only pointed a gun at him, but had also tried to stop him from saving the lives of the other villains. Why, he might even get praised for his quick thinking! It feels nice when Izuku tells him he’s done a good job. Ochako can tease him for it all she likes, he knows by the way she lights up at her boyfriend’s smiles that she feels the same as he does. Though he’ll definitely let her keep the kisses for herself, thank you very much. Headpats and hugs are more than enough for Shoto, no need to get weird about it. With the tiniest bit of a spring in his step at the thought of Izuku’s fingers ruffling his hair, he turns his back on the fallen body of Himura Juro to resume melting his glacier, working extra quickly to make sure nobody dies. They’ll be able to survive a little bit of scalding.

This is, of course, precisely when everything goes to shit.

Todoroki Shoto is a lot more familiar with the sound of gunshots than anyone his age has any right to be. Which is how he knows exactly what’s happened when his blood splatters from his lower abdomen all across the ice in front of him. He staggers, trying to turn, and feels the ripping pain of a second bullet lance through his body before he can complete a full revolution. Clearly, leniency was a mistake, and he’s going to have to make Izuku cry after all. Mustering up the last of his strength, he turns a focused blast of fire on his squirming enemy, the pulse thrumming in his own ears drowning out the man’s weakened screams. Staggering, Shoto coughs, spits, and vomits noisily, feeling himself slam into the ground. Shit. He’s been hit somewhere vital, his head shouldn’t be swimming this much. He can’t cauterize the wound, assuming he can even find it just by blindly running his hands over his body, he hasn’t got that kind of control with his flames yet. Freezing it is going to suck, but the alternative is bleeding to death, and he can’t do that. Not anymore. He feels his finger snag on the jagged edge of one of the bullet holes, and vomits again, staying conscious through sheer force of will mixed with Endeavour’s training. Shoto ices the spot as carefully as he can, then repeats the action a second time when he finds the other wound. Shit.

He realizes he’d blacked out only when he comes to, feeling himself pressed against someone’s back, arms dangling over their shoulders and steady, solid hands under his legs. His vision slowly swims back to enough clarity to see a whole mess of red spikes. “Kirishima?”

“Brodoroki! Hang on, man, don’t talk! You lost a lot of blood, dude, I’m gonna get you to the medics!” Brodoroki. Such a ridiculous nickname, yet all the more endearing for it. It certainly doesn’t hurt that it mangles Endeavour’s proud family name, either.

“Why… Aren’t you with Izuku? You promised.”

“Psh, what, you think I bailed on my bro?” He can hear the usual smile in the other boy’s voice, but it’s strained. “Nah, he’s the one who sent me to find you! I told you, Brodoroki, I’d look after Midobro even if you hadn’t asked me to promise. He’s a great guy, and a good friend. He was worried about you - about everyone, really, but about you, Tsu, and Ochako especially.”

Oh. Good. Yes, right, of course Kirishima wouldn’t be here if Izuku was unsafe; he had promised, after all, and even that promise was just an extension of the boy’s own desires. It had taken Shoto a lot to work up the nerve to ask the resident gym rat to keep an eye on his best friend, after how unexpectedly well he’d handled the greenet’s panic attack on that first day in the dorms, but it had been met with an incredibly jovial slap on the back and a promise that he hadn’t even needed to ask. “Kirishima. I think my wounds opened up again.”

“Huh? Oh, no, you’re good! That’s my blood, not yours.”

Oh. Not good. “You should put me down. I’ll be alright. You shouldn’t be carrying me if you’re injured too.”

“Aw, that’s super manly of you to worry about me! I can handle it though! It’s all flesh wounds.”

“Well, yes. Flesh tends to be the thing that gets wounded when you’re bleeding.”

This gets a loud barking laugh. “Good one, Brodoroki! I mean it’s my skin; it cracked a bit, that’s all! Took some pretty heavy hits, but nothing that could keep me down! Now, hush up and rest, you hear? Or else I’ll tell Izuku you were being uncooperative, and he’ll probably use that tone he gets, the one he picked up from Ochako!”

Ugh. The very thought of it is enough to make him shudder worse than his own cold. With a sigh, Shoto resigns himself to being carried, but manages to croak out one last comment before falling silent. “Thank you, Kirishima. You’re a good friend, too.”

Chapter Text

The very first thing that Uraraka Ochako is doing when this nightmare of a villain attack ends is marching right down to the 1-H building, grabbing whatever Support Course student is close by, and demanding that they help her figure out how to make her gear waterproof. Her bracers? Useless. Her boots? Full of lake water. Her helmet? Well, her helmet may actually be just fine if she could figure out where it is! She had lost it somewhere in between falling out of the hole in the sky and clambering to the shore of the artificial lake that makes up most of the Flood Zone. It really is such bullshit that this hadn’t been planned out by anyone! Granted, yes, she had been the one to design the outfit initially, but surely the support students are capable of recognizing that water may be a problem and taking preventative action. But enough grumbling and moaning, there’s work to be done! She starts by taking stock of her surroundings, trying to figure out which side of the lake she’d ended up on - her only real thought at the time had been to get to shore, since she isn’t the strongest swimmer.

She spots the slope of a mountain off to one side, and can hear the water from the giant slide behind her. That would put her on the shore nearest the Conflagration Zone, which is also the farthest from the entrance and plaza. Great. It’s going to be one hell of a schlep back, and that’s not even counting whatever assortment of criminals, delinquents, and ne'er-do-wells are standing between her and her reunion with the rest of the class. She really wishes she could fly properly with her Quirk, but barfing mid-air is not a great way to sneak around, nor is passing out from the vertigo. Right as she’s about to get started, three things happen all at once: she feels a hand grab her ankle, which causes her to fall flat on her face, and she hears the rather distinctive sound of someone having a hard object collide with the back of their head. Ochako flips onto her back and pushes herself up to see her best friend shoving the unconscious body of a fish-headed villain into the water with one hand, the other holding her own missing helmet. Tsuyu clambers up onto the shore, offering her a small smile.

“Let’s not tell Izuku about that one, kero, he might cry.”

That gets a good laugh out of Ochako, and she takes a moment to give Tsuyu a quick hug. “I’m guessin’ I got you t’ thank for not seein’ anyone on my swim?”

Tsuyu nods. “Accent, kero.”

“Dang it!” Ochako feels her face flush, and she stomps her foot lightly. “Don’t tell Izu-kun that either! I swear, that boy gets me worked up on purpose just to make me forget my speech training.”

“He does,” Tsuyu confirms in a smug tone, “and I can’t say I blame him, kero. You know I’ve always had a soft spot for your Iga-ben, kero, though I’ll always be happy your parents sent you across to Aichi for your language lessons. Can’t regret meeting my best friend.”

Ochako is too used to Tsuyu’s teasing to let herself blush at that, so instead she plops her surprisingly dry helmet on her head and turns towards the small wooded area near the border with the Conflagration Zone, with the intent of moving along the tree line towards the plaza using it as cover. With a bit of help from her Quirk, she may even be able to climb one of the taller trees and do a bit of scouting; she’d love to be able to avoid villain encounters as much as possible. If it’s possible at all. Ochako will fight if she needs to, and she knows that Tsuyu will as well, neither of them are slouches, but she’d really prefer to avoid getting hurt if she can. Rescue Heroics has always been more her bag than combat, despite how well she’d done in the Battle Trial - that was mostly just a fluke! She may be able to repeat the same trick again if she’s lucky, but counting on it would be a big mistake. She’s happy to make it all the way to the woods and up through one of the trees, Tsuyu by her side, with no incidents or villain encounters.

This is, of course, precisely when everything goes to shit.

The tree the duo are in shakes dangerously, nearly dislodging them, and a bestial roar can be heard from below. “Come out down, kiddies, lemme see what your guts look like!”

Ochako grabs hold of Tsuyu’s wrist and glances down to see a muscular woman with three small horns, two on her head and one on her nose, rear back and slam herself into the tree again. A triceratops Quirk is probably the last thing Ochako wanted to see, right up there with chainsaws or a macaque. Thinking fast, she touches all five fingers to Tsuyu’s wrist and then to her own, activating her Quirk with its telltale flash of purple light. Tsuyu, being used to it by now, reacts immediately by shooting her tongue out towards a shorter tree a small distance away and giving a mighty tug, launching the two of them from the branches and hopefully out of danger. That hope is dashed as soon as the pair land, though, as a blurred form whips past them at a high speed, blowing them both over. Except for Ochako’s reflexive releasing of her Quirk, she and Tsuyu would have gone flying. As it is, both are knocked to the ground, and attempting to climb to their feet only results in the blur slamming into them a second time. Tsuyu tries to lash out with her tongue, but it’s deflected when the person making up the blur comes to a stop in front of them and bats it away.

Ochako recognizes the man’s colouration, wide feet, and ridiculous hairstyle right away: this is Kamose Kamizu, alias Mandarin, one of the most wanted men in her home prefecture of Mie. “Tsu, be careful! This guy’s Quirk, Slyde, makes him frictionless; he’s going to be hard to hit, and harder to get away from.”

The man laughs in a sleazy manner, running his hand along his slicked-back tricolour hair and clicking his pointed beak. “Aw, ya recognize lil ole me, girly? I gotta say I’m flattered! ‘Fraid t’ say you ain’t my type though, cheeks. Your friend there? Well, I’ll be havin’ some fun with that once I beat the snot outta ya.”

Urk. Ochako thinks she’s gonna hurl, and not because of her Quirk for once. She knew Mandarin was a creep, what with all the counts of sexual harassment tacked on to his theft and burglary charges, but the blatant transphobia in referring to Tsuyu as ‘that’ is an unexpected step over the line into genuine piece of shit territory. Much as she’d love nothing more than to slug this loser in the nuts, she knows it wouldn’t do her any good given his Quirk. Beating him is going to take some thinking given that she’s not carrying any sort of suppression devices, but just how is she going to buy herself enough time to come up with a plan under the circumstances? They can’t outrun him, so escaping back into the woods where his Quirk is harder to use is out of the question, and they obviously can’t beat him in hand to hand combat either. Damn it, if only Izuku were here with his insane Quirk knowledge and his adorable muttering! Her boyfriend would probably be able to take one look at Mandarin and come up with three ways to kick his ass on the spot! She and Tsuyu just haven’t had enough time to learn more than the absolute basics from him, and that’s not going to be enough here. She refuses to go down without a fight, though, and drops into her best stance, wobbly though it may be. She sees Tsuyu do the same from the corner of her eye, and can’t help but hope that the frog girl had picked up more of Izuku’s smarts than she had.

Just like that, the answer presents itself in the form of a screaming, raging triceratops thundering out of the woods, plowing through the smaller tree and several bushes where the face-off is happening and causing Mandarin to slide away quickly. “You disgusting motherfucker! These are high school students!”

“You’re one to talk!” Mandarin squawks, reversing his momentum and coming to a halt several yards away. “You’re tryin’ to kill ‘em!”

“Wanting to rip their guts out is a hell of a lot more honourable than molesting them! Why the fuck did I have to get stuck with a pedo, huh?”

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the two girls split and run in opposite directions, Ochako touching as many things as possible with her Quirk while sprinting for the treeline, and Tsuyu making a mad dash for the lake. It’s lucky that escape was never their plan, because it takes all of a few moments for the pair of villains to catch up once they finish their bickering. No, this had been the plan from the beginning, whispered hurriedly between the two, and the first step has gone perfectly: split the villains up, with Mandarin sliding after Tsuyu and the triceratops lady after Ochako. She really hopes Tsuyu can keep her dodging game up long enough for Ochako to come and help her, but she doesn’t have much time to worry about it because she’s got a raging dinosaur directly behind her. So close behind her, in fact, that the dumbass villain doesn’t even realize they’re heading directly towards the larger tree they’d escaped from! Right when she can feel the tickle of thrusted horns against her back, Ochako activates her Quirk on herself and shoots up into the air, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from losing her breakfast, and is rewarded with the extremely satisfying sound of a loud thud and a shriek. Cracking one eye, she can see the second part of plan has worked just as flawlessly as the first: the woman’s horns are lodged deep into the soft wood of the pine, leaving her vulnerable to an attack from above, which Ochako executes immediately, dropping hard and fast right onto the back of her neck. She pointedly does not think about the snapping noise underneath her, choosing to believe it’s the woman’s horns breaking off parts of the tree. In any case, that’s the easier target down and out.

Tsuyu, it would seem, has had an alright time of playing leapfrog with Mandarin, bouncing and flipping out of his path and taking advantage of the flat terrain that prevents him from taking to the air with his Quirk. Still, he’s definitely gotten a few lucky hits in, and the other girl is starting to flag a bit as Ochako rushes over, pulling a handful of stones dug up from the dinosaur woman’s charge along with her and whipping them towards the duck-like villain. Just by herself, she can’t get them moving fast enough to do any damage, though, and she growls in frustration as they glance off his back. She hadn’t really expected it to be enough to stop him all on its own, but she’d been hoping to at least do some damage! Still, it gets the bastard’s attention away from Tsuyu long enough to give her a breather, and that’s the more important point, even if it ends up getting Ochako knocked on her ass again. She’s really glad she’s got a helmet on, even more so when a kick to the head comes on Mandarin’s skate back. That’s absolutely going to leave a mark.

“Well I gotta thank ya, I guess, cheeks; ya got rid o’ that obnoxious dino-turd for me. Mighty kind of ya!”

Ugh. Gross, gross gross gross. Hearing an accent so close to her own come out from such a scumbag’s mouth sends a shiver down her spine, and she resolves to definitely not tell Izuku about this one. The kick she aims at his crotch is about as effective as she’d anticipated, which is to say not in the slightest, but it gets him to back off long enough to regain her feet. She doesn’t manage to make it far before another drive-by shot hits her, then another, and soon enough she’s being battered from all sides, barely managing to stay standing, but somehow still walking back step by step until she reaches her target. “Tsu! Now!”

Leaping into action, quite literally, Tsuyu bounds over her and Mandarin, wraps her tongue around the large rock Ochako had touched with her Quirk earlier, and whips it at the villain. Right before it’s about to hit, two things happen: Ochako releases her Quirk for a split moment, and Mandarin glides effortlessly out of the way. He’s just too fast. One final blow catches Ochako in the stomach, hard, and she hits the ground for what she’s sure will be the last time in the fight, rolling to a stop on her back. Mandarin, slicking his hair again, clicks his beak with a sigh. “Ya almost had me, cheeks, but ya just ain’t up to snuff. Don’t worry too much, though, I ain’t like that lizard weirdo; I’ll just knock ya out a little afore I take what I’m after from your pretty friend. Say g’night!”

“Wait,” Ochako pants, “there’s somethin’ ya gotta know first. ‘Bout mah Quirk.”

Blinking stupidly, Mandarin takes a cautious step back. Bingo. “What’s that, cheeks?”

Ochako smiles beneath her cracked visor, gesturing with her steepled fingers. “I don’t gotta release everything all at once.”

“What? What the fuck does that even mea-?”

Mandarin’s confusion is cut off along with just about everything else when the small tree that had up until a moment ago been floating somewhere near the top of the USJ’s glass dome makes a sudden, jarring return to the ground, directly on top of him. The villain doesn’t even have time to scream before he’s crushed, and Ochako is glad for that; she’s already got one sound to haunt her nightmares for the foreseeable future, thank you very much. She heaves once, twice, and manages to roll over onto her side and tear her helmet off before she vomits messily. Ugh. She feels Tsuyu’s hands under her arms, and leans into the other girl’s grasp, thankful that she doesn’t seem to be any more in the mood to talk than Ochako herself. With a bit of a balancing act, the two begin to hobble back towards the plaza, hoping even harder this time that they won’t run into another gang of mooks. If they do, they’ll have to hope that they’re less interested in killing than the dinosaur woman had been. And also less interested in rape. Because they really aren’t in any shape to go through another fight like that, and it becomes clear in their minds that for all they’re students at the prestigious UA High School, they’re still students, years away yet from being close to the Pros.

But their hopes pay off, with the rest of the trek being uneventful, at least until they reach the plaza itself, wending their way through torn up paving stones and cracks in the ground. Much to her surprise, Ochako stumbles and falls, losing her friend’s support. Looking up at her from the ground, her questioning is cut off before it can start by the look of abject horror on Tsuyu’s face, and the sound the other girl makes drowns out the snap echoing in her ears.

“IZUKU!”

Chapter Text

“Those are real villains! Everyone scatter; Iida, run for the exit and go get help!”

“But sensei-!”

“No time; GO!”

Kirishima Eijiro wasn’t the one instructed to run, but he finds himself moving anyway. He knows he’s not the smartest of the Class 1-A students, or even the strongest, and his Quirk sure ain’t flashy, but he’s got one thing going for him: tactical awareness. There’s a single choke point between the plaza and the exit, right at the top of the steps. Anyone coming after Iida has to do it in a straight line, and that means he himself has one job and one job only: get in the way of that straight line. He hears Engine rev, but doesn’t move his eyes from his goal, calling up his own Quirk in a fraction of a second and planting himself firmly, arms crossed and legs braced. And it’s not a moment too soon, because right as he opens his mouth for a manly taunt towards his enemies, there’s one right in front of him. It’s massive, all he can see is dark black muscles, and then he feels a weight like a speeding cargo train slam into his abs. It’s the biggest hit he’s ever taken in his life, and he swears he can taste Hardening crack under the pressure; though that may just be the bile he spits up. He didn’t think it was possible for a living being to punch so hard, except maybe All Might, and he’s almost certain his skin has been broken off, but he doesn’t move until he hears the distinctive click of the wide double doors closing that signals Iida’s escape, and even then it’s to wrap his arms around the gigantic wrist of the creature that had struck him. This doesn’t go at all as planned, as he finds himself being lifted into the air and flung down into the plaza.

It’s not a short flight, and when he lands the paving tiles crunch and crack beneath him until he skids far enough to slam into the fountain. Even with Hardening at its peak it would probably knock the wind out of him, but with the crack across his abs it’s enough to leave him dazed for a solid minute or so - long enough that he doesn’t see what happens to Bakugo, but sure as hell hears the resulting screams. Midobro’s shouting is what finally rouses him, hearing his friend’s distinctive shout of ‘Carolina Smash!’, one of All Might’s signature moves. It makes sense; he hasn’t had a chance to talk to him about it just yet, but Midobro very clearly has something going on with All Might, as well as having a very similar Quirk. Even a dumbass like Kirishima could start putting some of the pieces together - he’s not that bright, but he’s definitely observant, and it just plain adds up to Midobro having a direct connection to All Might. Brodoroki’s theory is that the two are father and son, but that just doesn’t add up to Kirishima, cause there’s just no way All Might wouldn’t be manly enough to own up to having a kid out of wedlock, and it would be even less manly to keep a wife secret if he was married after all. No, All Might is at the peak of manliness, right up there with Crimson Riot himself, which can only mean there’s something else going on there. Not that Kirishima has a chance to think about it much more, because he’s staring down the hands of a villain who has fucking guns for fingers. On literally any other day he’d like his odds to tank a direct shot from at least a couple handgun rounds (heh, handgun), just not today. His luck, however, seems to hold out, with gunfingers coming up dry. Kirishima doesn’t pause to question it, he just gets up and slugs the villain in the face as hard as he can, sending him flying. The way he lands is… Well, he’s not gonna tell Midobro about it, cause he doesn’t want to make his bro cry.

That would be so unmanly. Not the crying, obviously.

Finally his head stops spinning enough for him to get his bearings, and he really hates what he sees. Or rather, what he doesn’t see, because most of his classmates are missing, and so is one of his teachers. Aizawa-sensei is just across the plaza, hair and Quirk both flaring (which explains gunhands), All Might and Midobro are fighting against whatever the hell the giant creature called ‘Nomu’ is, Iida is probably halfway to Hokkaido at the speed he’d been sprinting, and Kirishima really hopes everyone else is okay wherever they had ended up. No time to worry about them when there’s ass to kick, though! All thoughts of tactical advantage fly from his mind as fast as his battle cry flies from his mouth as he focuses his Hardening and charges into the fray of generic street thugs surrounding his remaining teacher, shoulder-checking a cluster of them and bowling them over like douchey ten-pins. No thoughts, head empty, fists full, let’s rock! There’s something incredibly satisfying about the meaty thud of a bad guy’s face or torso when he drives a full-force punch into it, and he feels his grin growing ever wider as their returning blows glance off his Quirk-hardened back. To the surprise of many, Kirishima doesn’t actually like fighting, not for its own sake - he’d much rather be a back liner, the last line of defense for when shit really goes down - but this? This isn’t fighting, this is taking out the trash. This is wiping the damn floor with a bunch of rowdy, inconsiderate assholes who had the sheer fucking balls to come in here and threaten to kill his friends. This is being the back liner, because shit has already gone down, he’s the last line of defense keeping Midobro and All Might focused on the kind of fighting only they can do instead of worrying about who’s behind them. This is exactly the shit Kirishima Eijiro had restructured his entire personality around, so he can be forgiven if he’s having a fucking blast doing what he was made for.

“Kirishima! DOWN!”

Hearing Aizawa-sensei’s shout, he drops on instinct, and a strand of the man’s scarf (capture weapon?) soars over his head, barely knocking aside a large kanabo thrown by one of the invaders and keeping it from hitting Kirishima in the head. As he stands back up though, he notices it disappear mid-air and slam directly into the damaged plate over his abs, knocking the wind out of him again and making him cough up more bile. Aizawa is at his side in an instant, all spinning kicks and flying scarf, beating back the oni-like villain and giving Kirishima room to breathe. This does, however, mean the Pro Hero has taken his Quirk-nullifying gaze off of the villain shrouded in black mist, which shows Kirishima what happened to the rest of his class as a swirling portal forms under his feet and he suddenly finds himself freefalling from the top of the USJ’s glass dome. He instinctively curls himself into a ball, twisting to try and land shoulder-first and avoid impacting with his head or legs, yet before he can even come within arm’s reach of the pavement, he feels the familiar wrap of strangely-motile fabric around his body and finds himself moving in a completely different direction. Namely, directly towards the oni villain at Mach Fuck. He can’t believe Aizawa-sensei would use him as a weapon like that! That’s the manliest thing ever, not to mention effective as hell! He didn’t take the Pro to be the type to use such a badass tactic. The villain tries to block with his war club, but it snaps back and hits him in the face, no match for the flying, fully-Hardened Kirishima.

Feeling really sick of being dazed and having to clear his head, Kirishima replies to his teacher’s mumbled inquiry with a thumbs up, staggering over to stand by his side with his fists raised. It’ll take a lot more than that to put him down and out of a fight like this, bleeding or not. Much to his surprise, though, the area seems to be mostly clear of villains who are themselves in any shape to fight. That just leaves the three big ticket contenders: the black mist villain, Fuckhands McMike, and the Nomu. He’s not sure how much longer Aizawa-sensei can keep Mist Man’s Quirk suppressed, and there’s no guarantee the Pro will be able to catch him again next time, so Kirishima will likely need to take a gamble on the Quirk of the dry, crusty bastard calling the shots. Seriously, what is up with this guy’s skin?

“Hey, sensei, think you can keep Mist Man pinned down?” His voice is kept at a low rumble to make sure the villains can’t overhear him.

“Yeah, but not for too long,” Aizawa-sensei replies in a susurrant hiss. “I overheard them calling each other Kurogiri and Shigaraki Tomura; I’ll let you guess which is which. If I can’t make the report, someone needs to be able to do it; I doubt All Might heard a damn thing.”

“Wait, seriously?” He can understand ironic naming before one’s Quirk develops, but choosing ‘Black Fog’ as your villain name when you’re made of the stuff seems a bit on the nose. Maybe he just wants to fit in? Unless he’s stupid enough to use his real actual name as a villain. “Well, whatever. Let’s do this.”

“Leeroy Jenkins.”

No. No no no Aizawa-sensei did not just use that fucking centuries-old meme in the middle of a fight! Where would he even have heard about that? Oh this is absolutely Present Mic-sensei’s fault. It has the intended effect of boosting Kirishima’s morale, as he starts laughing wildly while charging towards Shigaraki with the full intent of hammering the bastard into a pile of flakey skin.

This is, of course, precisely when everything goes to shit.

Because Midobro is there. He’s broken off from the Nomu, likely at All Might’s instruction, and is charging Shigaraki himself at a much faster speed than Kirishima can. And Shigaraki just takes a half-step out of the way of the boy’s punch, catches him by the arm with one hand and the other snaking around his neck.

And when the villain places his little finger down, Kirishima Eijiro gets to see what Shigaraki’s Quirk is.

“IZUKU!”

Tsuyu shouldn’t be making a sound like that. No human should, but especially not the normally-stoic frog girl. Kirishima can’t blame her, though, because the sight before them is so horrific. Already bruised and bleeding, battered and beaten, now Midoriya is dying, in a slow, horrible manner. The skin on his arm and neck are slowly peeling away, cracking and flaking to expose the bloody muscle beneath, and from the gurgling sounds of distress the boy is making, it’s incredibly painful. The strongest student in their entire class is reduced to struggling weakly, free hand scrabbling and scratching at the grip around his neck, but it’s not enough to break free. In his panic, his fear for his life, Midoriya has probably forgotten all about his legs, because they’re locked at the knee, shaking and barely keeping him upright. It’s only been a few seconds, but a thought finally thunders through Kirishima’s mind.

Stop fucking hesitating.

So he does. Comedy and laughter forgotten, Kirishima lets out a bestial scream like he’s never screamed before, closing the gap between himself and Shigaraki in an instant and slamming into the bastard with every ounce of seething hatred he can muster packed behind his fist. He can feel bones shatter under the blow, but it’s not enough, he wants blood. The red-hot rage stings in his eyes as he watches to see where the villain will land, fully intending to go after him, to pummel him into the dirt until he stops moving, stops breathing, stops being a threat to the health and happiness of his friends, but he feels something touch his ankle. It’s small, and soft, and weak, and it snaps him out of his rage because it’s Izuku. His bro needs him a hell of a lot more than he needs to kill Shigaraki. He barely registers the sound of the Nomu hitting the top of the dome and breaking through it, doesn’t notice the black fog clear away the remnants of the attacking villain as Aizawa-sensei finally blinks a little too long and Kurogiri promptly de-asses the area; he’s too busy getting Midobro laid out gently and giving him a quick check-over. He rips some of the cloth from his own outfit and uses it to dab away the blood around the other boy’s throat, noting that while grizzly, the wound appears to be mostly superficial, as does the one around his wrist. With medical attention, he’ll be just fine, even if he might have some new additions to his collection of scars. He’s joined quickly by Ochako, Tsuyu, and Aizawa-sensei, the latter pulling bandages and gauze from his belt pouches and swiftly wrapping and packing the injuries that need the most immediate treatment.

“‘shima… Kirishima…”

“Midobro! Don’t talk, just try and relax; you’re gonna be just fine bro, I promise!” He can’t hear any shaking in his own voice, which is good; as rattled as he is, he wants to keep his manly facade up for the sake of comfort.

“‘m not worried… About me… Please, you have to… Have to find Shoto. Bring him…” Midobro’s own voice is weak, as is his smile, and he’s clearly going to pass out soon from the pain. “If it hurts too much, send someone else. But please…”

Kirishima forces himself to plaster on a wide, toothy grin. “Of course Midobro! I’m barely hurt at all; I’ll get him back here fast as I can!” It’s not a lie, not really. Kirishima’s pain is mostly mental and emotional, with the cracked skin on his abs relegated to an obnoxious sting. He’ll be okay, even if he ends up needing to carry Brodoroki from the farthest end of the complex. “You get some rest, and when backup gets here they should have emergency medical responders with them! Just do what they say, okay Midobro? That’s the manly thing to do!”

The weak, genuine laughter he gets in response lights a fire in his heart, and Kirishima pushes himself to his feet, giving a little wave to the rest of the students who are stumbling back to the plaza. Everyone is at least a little beat up, or a lot beat up, but there’s no missing limbs or anything like that. All Might is tending to Bakugo with a gentleness that belies his size, and so Kirishima sets out to find his missing friend, churning the day’s event over in his mind. He doubts he’s the only one who had to kill to survive, and he knows from his course over the break between junior high and starting at UA that there’s going to be a lot of trauma to deal with, for himself and for the rest of his class. But he also knows that his mentor at the program, Hound Dog, works at UA and will be more than capable of providing much-needed therapy alongside the rest of the counselors on staff. He himself plans to assist as much as he can from the inside, being one of the class members himself and thus closer to home and easier to trust.

After all, he’s the last line of defense. The rock that everyone can lean against. Sturdy in the storms to come, no matter what the future brings. He will endure, and he will make sure his friends do too.

Chapter Text

If you asked Midoriya Izuku on his darkest days who the one person in the world he’d want to see hurt was, he would answer without hesitation: Bakugo Katsuki. But actually seeing the boy he once called his closest friend down on the ground, screaming as his arm is shattered and torn by the giant creature called a Nomu? That’s a very different matter than the fantasies that once flitted through his mind. More than vengeance, he had always dreamed of justice, of a day where Bakugo would be made to answer for everything, but this was neither. It was just pure destruction. He can feel One for All crackling in his veins, stars beneath his skin, and he gives in to the Quirk’s hunger for battle. That’s the best way he can describe it, a hunger. Not an ache in his stomach like a hemovore-type gets, but a physical sensation nonetheless, one that tickles at his scalp and makes his hands twitch with the drive to hit something. Crossing his arms over his chest, he sets his feet carefully, then pushes off, ignoring how he can tell his shoes are starting to fray along the soles. They’re his normal day-to-day shoes, so they’re not reinforced the way his proper Hero outfit ones were supposed to be - he hadn’t had the data on his Quirk ready in time for the initial round of designs being sent off to the Support Department, so those weren’t ready yet. If they can’t hold up, he’ll have to go barefoot.

“Carolina Smash!”

He can admit that All Might’s signature moves are satisfying to both use and shout, way more now that he shares the man’s Quirk than when he was a kid running around on the playground. Unsurprisingly based on how fast it had gone from chasing Iida to its current position, the attack fails to land on the Nomu as it steps out of the way, but that has the effect Izuku had actually been after in getting it off of Bakugo’s body. He suppresses the instinct to grab the other boy and bring him to safety, knowing that it’s far too dangerous to move him in his condition. Or maybe just hoping, because the only way it wouldn’t be is if he’s already dead. Another day that thought may have been enough to make him cry, but not today. Today he has a job to do, and that’s beating the everloving shit out of these villains. He pivots, feeling the soles of his shoes crack again, and kicks them off so they'll stop being a distraction, catching his low-riding socks on his toes to go completely barefoot in a smooth, practiced motion. The Nomu doesn’t move, it just stares, the disgusting pulsating of its brain making Izuku want to gag. Is it waiting for its next orders from Fuckhands McMike over there?

“Shigaraki Tomura, I believe that this green-haired child may be in possession of another powerful Quirk. We should strive to bring him to the Doctor as well.”

“Yeah, alright Kurogiri. Nomu, get him.”

Bingo. The creature sets its deformed feet much the way Izuku himself had, but before it can launch its next attack, All Might comes rocketing out of the sidelines and directly into the fray, taking advantage of its distraction to try and take out this Shiguraki guy. The Nomu must have some sort of automatic override, though, because it instantly spins and jumps in the Pro’s path, arms up in a heavy guard. That should be no problem at all for All Might’s huge Smash, even if it’s not one of his named Ultimate Moves - probably an attempt to keep collateral damage to a minimum.

Except it is a problem. Because despite landing a clean blow on the Nomu, practically nothing happens except a huge gust of air pressure shooting out behind it, narrowly missing Shigaraki and Kurogiri and blasting away the last few villains that hadn’t been caught up fighting Aizawa and Kirishima. Has it got some sort of shock absorption Quirk? Only no, it can’t have, it has a strength enhancing Quirk, right? That’s the only thing that could let it move as fast as it does while still being able to hit hard. When it clicks in Izuku’s mind, he feels bile burning in his throat. This is an abomination. Multiple Quirks fused together. Up until now it had been the fringest of fringe theories, whispered about among the biomedically-inclined members of the Collective on their most melancholy days. But there’s just no other explanation that makes sense, as much as he wishes there was. Mentions of powerful Quirks, wanting to take Bakugo and himself to some unnamed ‘Doctor’, it adds up suddenly in the most terrifying way possible: the Nomu isn’t a one-off creation, it’s a test bed, a proof of concept, and this attack on the USJ to kill All Might and the students is probably only the beginning.

Izuku really fucking hates being as smart as he is sometimes.

But having an over-analytical mind will definitely be a boon in this fight too; with a little more data, he may be able to find a way to overcome the shock absorption Quirk, or maybe another way to take the monster down. All he needs to do is trust Kirishima and Aizawa-sensei to keep the rest of the villains off his and All Might’s back while they fight. He catches Toshinori’s eye and gives him a firm nod, which is met with a determined, understanding grin. One additional upside to spending those ten months of hell training together was that it was together; the duo had come to know one another well, and (albeit after a few rough moments) Toshinori had come to respect him as a fighter as well as a person. Bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, Izuku dashes to one side as All Might shifts to another, the pair flanking the creature before darting in swiftly and landing a few punches, then dashing away again in precise, alternating strikes. The blows are entirely ineffectual, but they give the greenet some insight: rather than muscle, punching the creature feels like hitting tire rubber, but it doesn’t jar his fist. That means it’s a particular kind of shock absorption, not one that reflects the energy. So it has to go somewhere, and that means it’s not completely invincible. The downside of the equation is that the Nomu is entirely capable of striking back, and does so at every opportunity. He’s quick enough on his feet to move aside from most of them, especially with One for All, but even the wind from its punches is enough to cause bruises. A small slip, sweat against stone, causes him to take a blow to the shoulder that he can feel crack his clavicle and sends him spinning to the ground, skull bouncing slightly.

“Izuku! Are you alright my boy?”

Pushing himself groggily to his feet, Izuku manages to grumble out what he hopes is a cognizant response. “Beef polonium.”

“... What?”

“Wait, what?” Damn it, that wasn’t what he wanted to say at all! “Ugh. Yeah, I'm fine! Toshi, I’m gonna need a few more minutes to figure this one out, are you game?”

“Of course young man! Let’s give it our all!” With his signature smile fitting tight around his teeth, All Might launches another flurry of blows at the Quirk abomination, telegraphing his movements just enough for Izuku to track them. Muttering calculations to himself, the greenet moves in for his own exchange, taking a clip to the side and just barely ducking out of the way of a hammer strike. One for All sparks ever brighter, tensing his muscles and improving his reaction times even as it makes his bones creak and ache. His training is holding up, though - he’d figured out a few days into his return to patrols after the entrance exams that for all his conditioning under the New American Dream Plan, his body still wasn’t quite capable of withstanding the full might of his Quirk, and quite frankly neither were his surroundings. So, he’d set up sparring matches with All Might and then eventually started using the Facility for Hazardous Quirks, UA’s special gym for practicing with high-intensity Quirk types, to hone his control. He’s confident that he’s got it in the bag, with enough focus to use about seven percent of his strength.

This is, of course, precisely when everything goes to shit.

Taking a literal and figurative leap of faith, Izuku tries to make an overhead strike aimed at the Nomu’s exposed brain, and misjudges his angles. Rather than the flip into an axe kick he’d been trying for, his foot comes down slightly short and slams his instep down on the creature’s raised arms instead of his heel. With his focus on the wrong part, he can feel the metatarsals shatter, and the pain shooting up his leg tells him his tibia is probably fractured as well. All Might manages to swoop in and save him from a devastating counter-attack, but this one little fuckup may cost them massively if Izuku can’t get back in the fight. So he grits his teeth and lies to Toshinori’s face when the man asks if he’s able to keep going. It doesn’t matter if he is or isn’t, he’d got to do it. No matter what, because as good as All Might - as good as Yagi Tashinori is, Izuku knows it’s going to be his own analysis that saves the day here. As much as his nerves scream when he puts weight on his damaged leg, he compartmentalizes the feeling and ignores it, locking the sensation away and returning his attention to the fight. He’s right on the edge of getting it, he knows he is! So he takes that next step forward and swings his fists.

Left hook. Right chop. Duck the return, step in, check with his good shoulder. Back, let All Might in, step in again. The hits aren’t strong enough to send him flying, but he can feel himself getting knocked back further every time he takes one. His breathing is becoming less steady. Focus. In. Duck. Left, right, uppercut, dodge, take a hit, duck, right, right, left, hit, dip, chop, don’t kick, mind your footing, duck, left, backfist, step out, step in, duck, pivot, three strikes, take a hit, duck, dodge, punch, punch, punch, punch punch punch punchpunchpunch punchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunch punchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunchpunch-. There. That’s it. He’s got it. Step back, duck, retreat.

Breathing heavily, Izuku grabs a sharp chunk of cracked flagstone and tosses it in his hand, feeling the weight and the edge and the potential. He wraps his fingers around it, hefting it like the baseball from the Quirk Apprehension Test as he draws his arm back and channels as much of his strength as he thinks he can get away with. His nerves shout in protest, but he takes careful aim, waits for Toshi to back off, and hurls the bit of rubble with fifteen percent of One for All. Two of his fingers dislocate under the strain and he can’t help but gasp out a scream before quickly pulling them straight again. His calculations are perfect, he knows they’re perfect; the way to overcome the absorption Quirk is to focus as much power as possible into a small space with enough mass behind it to do serious damage. He’s fairly certain that his thrown rock is about as strong as the main gun of a tank, maybe a little stronger, and he’s rewarded with a sickening squelch as it rips through the Nomu’s side just below where its ribcage would be if it were a human.

But what he couldn’t have calculated for was the bastard fucking abomination having a regeneration Quirk.

He can barely hear Shiguraki Tomura cackling and gloating over the roar of rage in his own ears, and when All Might moves to his side to see if he has any ideas for a reassessment of the plan, there’s only one thing to say.

“Cover me. I’m going after the boss.”

And that’s exactly what he does. He registers Kirishima making the same play, but he’s faster, even with his leg being in such terrible shape. He can’t muster enough focus to put the full weight of his Quirk into the blow, but the punch he throws is still strong enough to cripple any normal human it touches, and it isn’t until he’s right there in front of the villain that it occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know what Shigaraki Tomura’s Quirk is. But it’s too late. Izuku is committed, over-extended, determined to give his all to stopping this whole thing by stopping the leader of the invasion while All Might keeps the Nomu from interfering. But it doesn’t matter if the Nomu gets in his way or not, because Izuku’s own body does that all on its own, leg jolting at the very last step and letting Shigaraki duck out of the way right in the nick of time, latching onto his wrist and grabbing his neck. It would be an easy enough hold to break out of from nearly any other person on the planet, but when the dry, flaky villain lowers his little finger, Midorya Izuku understands two things. The first is just how the disgusting man’s five-point contact-type Quirk operates.

And the second is the true meaning of the word agony.

He tries to scream as a flame hotter than anything Bakugo had ever hit him with sears its way into his skin, but all that comes out in a gurgling whine, because his throat is being slowly peeled away, layer by layer. His wrist is deteriorating too, and he can see the rot spread slowly but mercilessly up his forearm. He panics, body locked up in fear, and stops breathing, unable to hear the unearthly shriek made by the nearby Tsuyu. The pain lasts for an infinite eternity, until it’s gone, and he’s lying on the ground. Something had saved him. Someone. He reaches out his mangled hand and gently, oh so gently, places his finger on Kirishima’s ankle. Because what he sees doesn’t scare him, Kirishima could never do that, but it makes him so crushingly sad that he can’t stand it. There should never, ever be a look of such intense bloodlust on this boy’s face. He has to bring his friend back from the brink of madness. Because he knows what it feels like to want someone so dead that it risks killing your own soul. He offers a small prayer in his mind, and feels it answered when the tension runs from the redhead’s body and he finds himself rolled tenderly onto his back to be tended to. Good, that’s good; that’s the look Kirishima should have on his face, that smile of determination and care.

He manages to send his friend, his anchor, away to go look for Shoto, to get his mind off Izuku’s own body, and swims in and out of consciousness for a while. Aizawa-sensei is there, providing emergency treatment. Ochako-chan and Tsuyu too, and he tries to give them a reassuring smile but isn’t sure if it works. Eventually there’s medics, real medics, and a swarm of other UA staff, bursting in through the doors with Iida hot on their heels. He spots all of his classmates as he’s bundled into a stretcher to be loaded into one of the waiting ambulances, noting that none are missing limbs or simply missing altogether, though each and every one is in various states of injury. Bakugo and Shoto have it the worst, aside from himself, but the medics don’t sound like they’re worried about anyone dying, so Izuku allows himself to relax enough to fade out completely. The last thought through his mind before the darkness claims him is how much therapy they’re all going to need after this. He’ll make sure they get it though, even if they don’t want it. Because this is his class. These are his friends. And after this? He’s of a mind to make them all family, too. And he’ll always protect his family.

Chapter Text

The Pro Hero ward at Shizuoka General Hospital isn’t small by any means, which is why the victims of the USJ Incident were sent there instead of the nearby Takoba Municipal, but it’s still not really equipped to handle an influx of twenty-one inpatients all at once. Most of Class 1-A will be cleared to leave by morning, but apparently Principal Nedzu had been rather insistent that everyone be kept for a minimum overnight stay just in case something came up in the first twenty-four hours. Moving any of the students, even those with comparatively minor injuries, to the better-staffed general ward was an idea so foolish that the hospital director herself had shouted it down immediately according to Iida. The boy himself was an outpatient, being briefly treated for Quirk-related strain after maxing out his Engines, and had ducked into the shared room to explain things to the now-conscious Izuku, Tsuyu, Ochako-chan, Kirishima, and Shoto. Each were in various states of enforced bedrest, which had done precisely nothing to stop Kirishima from shoving all of their beds together in a cluster so they could see and speak to each other more easily, much to the consternation of their duty nurse. When informed that any attempts to force them to separate would be met with continual and frankly obnoxious complaints to as many staff and board members as possible, the man relented after extracting promises that they would all be very cognizant of one another’s injuries. All were in stable condition, with Izuku and Shoto in particular being drip-fed advanced painkillers and fluids, but by no means were any of the five healthy. Nevertheless, they find themselves in a state of gentle recline; Tsuyu with her head on Izuku’s good leg, Ochako-chan resting on the frog girl’s midriff with her feet in Kirishima’s lap, Kirishima tucked against Shoto’s uninjured side gently carding fingers through his hair, and Shoto gently yet insistently nudging Tsuyu with one foot.

“Shoto, I am about five seconds away from biting your toes, kero.”

Shoto pauses, and Izuku can see him mentally counting down five seconds before resuming his nudging. “I know you have something to say, Tsu. I can see it on your face. I am going to continue to pester you until you spit it out, because that is what a good friend does. Or so Ochako tells me.”

Tsuyu rolls her eyes and bats at the offending foot. “Lay off, kero, I’ll get to it when I’m ready.”

Shoto gets one last nudge in, about as playful as he’s capable of being, then moves his foot to the side. “Alright, I’ll go first then.” His piercing yet gentle gaze meets Izuku’s own. “Izuku, I am very sorry to say that many of the villains I fought did not survive the attack. Please understand that I did try to save them, but then I got attacked and shot by my distant cousin. Though I have to say, I think he made an even bigger mistake in assuming that killing me was the best way to hurt my father. If anything Endeavour would have merely been annoyed that his investments in my training had been wasted.”

There’s a sort of stunned silence after that as everyone grapples in quiet rage with just how true the statement is on its face. This momentary pausing is broken almost immediately, however, by Ochako-chan wagging a finger threateningly in Izuku’s face. “No you are not allowed to go to the Todoroki estates and throw hands with Endeavour. That would be very satisfying, but as your girlfriend I am not going to let you get arrested for that. Don’t give me that look, you know you were about to say it.”

Izuku doesn’t dignify this with a response, mostly because she’s right. He does, however, make a mental note to set a new bounty on the forums for someone to egg Endeavour’s car. With a light sigh, he comes to a conclusion: it’s make or break time for all four of these relationships. “Okay, setting that second part aside for a moment. I’m not upset about the first. In fact, I stand by it being the right choice to make. Going by each of your reactions to Shoto saying he killed someone, you all had to make that choice, right?” There’s a round of uncomfortable nods.

“Okay. Well, I’m not glad that you were all put in situations where you had to do it, but I am glad that you were willing to.” He holds up his good hand to forestall any replies, and continues. “If your life is in danger, really in danger, you shouldn't hold back just because the person who’s trying to take it might die. The trick is learning when that applies, as well as how to minimize collateral damage. It’s a hard lesson to learn, and a painful one, and we are all going to need so much therapy because of it. But I really believe it’s for the best that you all learned it now.”

It’s Kirishima who breaks the silence this time. “Midobro, the way you said that, have you…?”

Izuku nods almost imperceptibly. “I’ve told you guys about Mama Nya, right? What I never mentioned is how I got so integrated into her teahouse despite my age. I would have been… Eleven? Yeah. The second year I started going around the city trying to help people out. I saw a girl in a back alley on my way home, towards the end of the night, and some asshole had her backed against a wall. I could see she was scared. So I shouted at him, told him I was going to call the cops and the Pros. Didn’t notice the knife until he was already coming at me. I panicked, grabbed a pipe, and hit him in the knee. He didn’t let go of the knife as he fell, and that was that. Tamahagane, the girl, called Mama Nya, who got there right as the police did, made a big stink about me just being a kid who happened to be there by accident, and if they even thought about pressing charges she’d make a media shitstorm out of it. When she realized I was Quirkless, she actually threatened to physically fight the entire department if need be, and they backed off pretty fast. She took me back to the teahouse to get cleaned up and call my mom, and the rest is history.”

Today’s a day for uncomfortable silences it seems, as the group enters into their third in as many minutes, but getting things laid out on the table is the name of the game. If this is enough to scare any of them off, well, Izuku will be sad of course, but he refuses to let himself regret the level of honesty he’s trusting them with. “Midobro…” Ah, here it comes.

“That’s manly as hell.” Huh? “And I don’t just mean you standing up for that girl either! I bet it took a lot of guts for you to tell us that story, and I’m super happy you trusted me with all that.”

The others are quick to chime in with their agreements, and Ochako-chan claps her hands together, carefully avoiding activating her Quirk. “Right! We’re adding that to the Izuku Lore Book, and we can unpack it in group therapy! Also we’re doing group therapy. Anyone else got anything they wanna add?”

“Guess this is as good a time as any, kero.” Tsuyu scoots up, moves Ochako-chan into the spot she was before, and perches froglike on the most empty part of the bed cluster that lets her look at her best friend and her best friend’s boyfriend. “Okay. This is a little difficult.”

“Is it about your medical chart finally having an F on it?” Shoto interjects, face blank. “Because I saw that as the nurse was coming by.”

“What-? Shoto, shut up, kero, come on. Okay yes, that’s really nice and euphoric but no that is not what this is about, kero.”

“Tsu, that’s super cool, congratulations!” Ochako-chan’s grin is as genuine as it is shit-eating. “Come on, you don’t gotta be embarrassed about that, we’re all friends here!”

“Ochako-chan, I swear-”

“Really?! That’s so cool! We gotta have a celebration when we all get home!”

“Kirishima, kero, seriously?”

“Tsuyu! Wow, what a milestone! Kirishima’s right, we gotta celebrate; I may not really understand this whole gender euphoria thing but I know when it’s time to party!”

“I hate all of you, kero.”

“N’aw, Tsu, ya love us,” Ochako-chan gigglesnorts, and Izuku nods eagerly, his own smile widening menacingly.

“... Yeah, I do, kero. And that’s what this is actually about.”

… Huh?

The girl draws herself up as much as she can in her sitting position and stares at Ochako-chan and himself. “Izuku, Ochako-chan. I’m in love with you both. I want to spend our time together, as much of it as we can all stand and then some. I want to be your third.”

To call this an unexpected development would be the understatement of the century. Sure, the trio are nearly inseparable, and Izuku considers Tsuyu to be the closest of his four best friends aside from Ochako-chan, but hearing a confession of love comes so far out of left field that it’s from a different park entirely! Feeling the metaphor getting away from him, Izuku takes a few calming breaths (as deep as he can make them with his bandaged ribs) and focuses on saying what he feels needs said without hurting the girl. “Tsuyu. Are you… Are you sure that you’re actually in love, and it’s not just the trauma talking? We did just go through a lot, and we went through it more or less together; I don’t want to dismiss your feelings, but I want to make sure you’re asking with a clear head. Is this because you love us, or because you’re scared, and we’re here?”

Izuku clamps down on the panic he feels when tears start slowly streaming down Tsuyu’s cheeks, lacing his fingers between Ochako-chan’s and waiting for her to say her piece. It takes her a few false starts and morose croaks, but eventually she manages a reply.

“That’s. That’s a fair question, kero, and I can’t say it’s not the trauma. And I am scared, kero. But not the way you think.” She hiccups. “I’ve actually felt this way for a while, kero. And I know you and Ochako-chan have feelings for me too. I wanted. I wanted to wait for you both to realize it, for you to decide if you were going to act on it. I didn’t want any of us to feel like I was forcing my way in, kero, because that would just feel awful.” She pauses here, trying and failing to wipe her tears away as they continue to pour down her face, and her voice cracks. “But then you got hurt. You both got hurt so bad. Kero. And I can’t wait anymore! I don’t care if it feels like I’m forcing my way in, kero, because what if this is it? What if this is the only chance I get to say it? What if next time, next time we don’t get as lucky as we did, and it’s one of us who dies?! We’re still just students, but we’re Heroics students, and I can’t let either of you possibly go to your deaths without knowing that I love you both so much that I can hardly even stand it!”

Ochako-chan jumps forward as Tsuyu begins to collapse, pulling her close and dragging her half way into Izuku’s lap so the greenet can wrap his one good arm around them both. It’s heartbreaking to hear a girl normally so stoic and outwardly emotionless break down sobbing, and he’s infinitely thankful for Kirishima waving off the duty nurse when the man pokes his head through the door. Shoto, for his part, glances away, leaning into the redhead and offering himself up as a distraction while Tsuyu lets her feelings out. It takes several minutes, but eventually the sobs fade into tiny, adorable croaks and somewhat shaky breathing. Knowing her best friend almost better than she knows herself, Ochako-chan breaks the ice with a funny quip.

“Tsu-chan. I thought you were a lesbian?”

That draws a wet, croaking laugh from the frog girl, and she sniffs loudly. “Izuku’s special, kero. A girl’s allowed to make exceptions. I wouldn’t date Shoto, no offense kero, but I just can’t help loving everything about this boy.”

Izuku and Ochako-chan join in on the laughter. It’s soft, quiet, and the realest expression of joy any of them can remember making in a very long time. Izuku turns the thought over in his mind a few times before leaning down to plant a gentle kiss first on the top of Tsuyu’s head, then on Ochako-chan’s. “Okay. That’s all I needed to hear. Tsu-chan, I would be more than happy to welcome you into our relationship, provided Ochako-chan agrees. You weren’t wrong in saying I’ve had feelings for you for a while, but I didn’t really want to act on them either until I talked it out with her. I was actually going to do that over date night.”

“It’s kinda funny how timin’ works out sometimes,” Ochako-chan adds in her rural drawl, planting a couple kisses of her own, “what with how I plain forgot t’ ask Izu-kun out mahself right afore we went on that date. But I gotta warn ya, even though I’m gonna accept, you gotta contend with the secret other love of Izu-kun’s life!”

Tsu-chan blinks up at the pair as Izuku sighs dramatically. “Sorry, kero, his what?”

His girlfriend is such a troublemaker. “She’s talking about Toga. Who is not my secret anything, thank you very much! She’s just… I dunno, she was special. Or, had the potential to become special? I know I keep saying it but there was something about her; we only met for a short while, but I really thought we clicked.

“I could never figure out what happened to her. She's alive - I’ve had people checking every morgue in the whole prefecture - but I don’t know where she’s alive. As deep as my connections run, there’s still places they can’t look; for that I want to ask Principle Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei for help. Even if it takes them months, it’ll be better than not knowing.”

Tsu-chan leans up and plants her own very first kiss directly on the freckles that dot Izuku’s cheek, and then a second on the other side. “I understand, kero. I’ll help as much as I can; I can petition Principal Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei right along with you, and I’m sure Ochako-chan will be happy to do the same. Right?”

Ochako-chan nods eagerly, dimples appearing on the pink spots on each cheek as her smile grows wider and brighter. Before she can say anything, though, a knock comes at the door, followed by the duty nurse’s voice. “Midoriya Izuku-san? There’s someone here to speak with you.”

Chapter Text

The man standing in the doorway is an odd one to say the least. His attire is understated, professional, yet undoubtedly expensive. His hair and skin are both a difficult shade to describe, being almost pearlescent in nature, but black rather than white. He makes a small, carefully-measured bow, one hand over his heart, and steps a bit more into the room, slowly as if trying to avoid spooking anyone. “Hello, Finder Midoriya, my name is Iyasareru Kyogi. Our mutual friends extend their greetings, and The Sentinel in particular wishes you well. Is now a bad time?”

Finder. That explains it; it’s a formal designation he doesn’t use often, his position within the Collective, meaning this is one of their contractors. “Hello, Iyasareru-dono; now is fine. You’ve spoken to The Sentinel recently? Last I heard they were indisposed; I hope they’re doing alright.”

The man glances at the rest of the occupants of the room, raising a brow just a tiny amount, but remains motionless otherwise. “Friends of yours?”

Izuku nods. “They know enough, but they haven’t come in from the rain. Speak as you must.”

The man visibly relaxes as he pulls up a chair from the side of the room, setting the Gladstone bag he’d been carrying beside it. “Apologies for the formalities; I’m used to dealing with some of the Collective’s… Touchier clientele. And of course The Sentinel; you know how much stock they put in all the pomp and circumstance. They’re doing quite well, by the way, all patched up after that nasty bit of business in Hamamatsu. They heard the news from another mutual friend who works here in the hospital - word of an entire class of UA students being admitted is going to travel fast - and dispatched me right away. It’s quite lucky I was in the area; first thing tomorrow morning I’m scheduled to be on a flight to Shanghai.”

That tracks; he knows how busy some of the contractors get. “So, Iyasareru-dono, what brings you to the hospital? I mean I assume you’re a medical specialist of some sort, since they let you into the Hero ward and you don’t seem like the security type.” He could of course be wrong; The Sentinel looks like a bookish nerd when he’s out of uniform - fitting, given the work of the Collective itself.

“I am! In fact, I’m one of the best there is. Being a student at UA, you’re of course familiar with Shuzenji Chiyo-senpai; my Quirk is a little bit like hers. It’s called Restore, and in a bit of an inversion of Heal, it allows me to take energy from outside the patient’s body and use that energy to accelerate the natural recovery process. The exact details of how it works are classified by the Japanese government as an Imperial secret, but what I can tell you is the end result is a perfect restoration of the affected area. It can even regenerate lost limbs given enough time. As you can imagine, that makes my Quirk a rather hot commodity, which is why I rely on my connections with the Collective to help keep me safe.”

Izuku considers himself something of a Quirk aficionado (though others would call him an expert), but a Quirk like Restore is something that has mostly stayed in the realm of hypotheticals until this moment. The idea that Recovery Girl’s Heal isn’t the ultimate healing Quirk was sort of a given, but the levels to which other Quirks may extend is a subject of ongoing debate among his peers in the analysis community. He doesn’t have any reason to disbelieve the man, given he has the credentials to even be in the room right now, but it’s still a lot to take in. Especially because of the implications that come with being told.

“Alright,” Izuku sighs, mentally preparing himself, “what’s the catch, exactly? Your services may be bought and paid for but your Quirk sure isn’t free.”

This gets a polite but genuine laugh from the man, and a few chuckles from around the beds as well. “There’s two major drawbacks. The first you don’t have to worry about; after extensive study, it was determined that those under the age of thirty are distinctly less likely to develop tumorous growths through extensive healing, and of those few who do, only a fraction then develop cancer - and in all cases, it’s treatable. The second, I’m afraid, is universal. Unlike Chiyo-senpai’s Heal, Restore doesn’t deaden the nerves. Meaning, unfortunately, that my patients are by necessity placed into a temporary medically induced coma - assuming they are conscious to begin with - because otherwise the pain would cause severe trauma and possibly even kill them. And of course this carries the same risk as any other deep sedation.”

That’s. Wow. Tough call to make. It’s Tsu-chan who chimes in next, which Izuku is grateful for. “So, kero, what’s the tradeoff in terms of recovery? Izuku-kun is looking at what, a month to be patched together with Heal, and then a bunch of rehab after that, kero? Your Quirk clearly offers something better.”

Iyasareru-dono inclines his head gently towards Izuku;s new girlfriend. “You would be correct, miss. The longest recovery time my Quirk has ever required was three weeks, for a man who was so badly burned that nearly all his skin was gone. And rehabilitation exercises are routinely outpatient work. I won’t lie, however - the whole of your recovery is going to suck. You’ll be dealing with lingering aches and brain fog the entire time.”

Izuku can see now why this man is a contractor for the Collective. Nobody with a Quirk like that would be able to maintain any sort of independence without some serious backing, and it’s not like the HPSC are good candidates. But even with the greatly accelerated recovery time, it’s not like he’s not giving up anything in return.

“He’s going to need some time to think about it,” Kirishima interrupts firmly, giving Izuku a pointed look that he can’t ignore. It’s not like he’s wrong. “Midobro is smart as hell, but this is a lot. Me, I just want to know one thing: are you doing this for anyone else? Cause I don’t think he’d accept a special favour like that, even from his buddies in the Collective.” Also true; that had been gnawing at the edge of his mind.

Iyasareru-dono makes a small, seated bow with a hand over his heart before standing. “Of course; I will leave you each to your discussions. And for your question, no, my Quirk will not be an exclusive gift. The Sentinel made it quite clear that I was to be hired on a time-gated basis, not a patient-gated one. Anyone in your class who may benefit from my services shall have the offer extended to them - or to their proxy, as need be. You may have the duty nurse summon me when you are ready, Finder Midoriya.”

The click of the door echoes through the room, but it takes all of five seconds for Kirishima to erupt. “Midobro! Dude, you know The Sentinel?! Like, he personally sent someone out to do you a solid?! That’s crazy!”

Izuku blushes slightly and squeezes Tsu-chan a bit tighter, making her croak in amusement. “I mean. Yeah. I’ve had dinner with him before?”

“WHAT?! Midobro, that’s so cool!” Wow, Kirishima being this big of a fanboy was severely unexpected.

“Wait, I know I told you a bit about the Collective, but I definitely never mentioned The Sentinel. How do you know him?”

Kirishima waves the surprise off with a grin. “My uncle was a Hospitaller! Manliest job in the world, going to all those war-torn countries and dangerous gang territory - he was stationed with Médecins Sans Frontières,” the redhead’s French pronunciation is surprisingly good, “and he was one of the security chiefs. He talked a little about The Sentinel and his peacekeepers, ‘cause the Hospitallers would hire them as private security whenever they did events in Shizuoka so that the Knights themselves could have some time off.”

“Woah!” Ochako-chan shouts, “that’s so cool, Kirishima! You’ve gotta tell us about him some time! Well, some time when we ain’t sortin’ things through with Izu-kun. Babe, I think ya already know my vote.”

Izuku nods, kissing Ochako-chan on the cheek, and then Tsu-chan on the top of the head again. “And you? Second girlfriend, second vote,” he teases.

“Rude, kero, but to answer: I’m undecided. The perks are great, but the drawbacks are making me worry, kero. Come back to me in a minute; I know you’ll want Kirishima and Shoto to weigh in too.”

“Take the dive, Midobro!” Kirishima says confidently, fist clenched and eyes sparkling, “sure the recovery is going to be rough but that’s gonna be true anyway! I’ll be here to help you get past it; we all will.”

Even knowing it was coming, the sheer love that pours through the statement warms Izuku’s heart and makes him giggle quietly. “Shoto? You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time; something on your mind?”

The bichromic boy nods slowly, finally sitting back up from where he’d been leaning against Kirishima, and he tucks a tiny braid behind his ear. “I can’t say you should take the offer. The good it would bring you is pretty good, which you can tell for yourself, but the bad? That’s frightening to me. Medical comas are frightening things. You know why I know. And moreover, having brain fog like that is detrimental to who you are as a person. Your big brain and quick wit are so much of you that the idea of them being suppressed, even for a little while, makes me wonder if you’d even be able to function as the person I know and care about.”

Heavy coming from Shoto, as is to be expected. “Yeah, I understand. Heal itself does tend to leave me dizzy and woozy, though, and that would be for a lot longer, even if it is lighter. I think I could manage, but I understand and appreciate your concern, Shoto, thank you for voicing it. Kirishima, I can’t reach, can you deliver headpats for me please?” The redhead does so with gusto, and Izuku smiles brightly, proud of how far Shoto has come to be able to voice his discontent and fears like that. With two votes yea and one vote nay, it’s time to hear from the abstainer and see if it’s going to end up being a tie (even one that Izuku holds all the power to break anyway).

Tsu-chan remains silent in her contemplation a few moments more, then switches to loud, unexpectedly adorable squeaks when her boyfriend starts kissing softly at her neck. “Izuku, cut that out, kero, I was trying to think. Ochako-chan, get him off! No no no, that does not mean join him, kero, damn it!” She squirms and blushes cutely as her partners tease her, finally managing to bat them away. “Alright, alright, kero. Ochako-chan, you get out of here in a week, right? They wanted to keep you in to examine that neck injury, kero. Fine, I’ll add my vote to the yes column. But, on the condition that we have a party - a real party, not a joke one. I want to celebrate your recovery, both of you, and I want to celebrate us as well.” The forwardness of this last suggestion makes the pair blush furiously, and she smiles inwardly. “Also, kero, I am going to be bullying you both about your rehab. You will do it, or you will face my froggy wrath.”

“Ha! As if I fear any such thing, pond hopper!” Ochako-chan retorts in a cartoonish tone.

“No? Then perhaps I will need to set my ultimate weapon upon you, kero. You may not fear my froggy wrath, but you will fear the almighty Iida Lecture of Extreme Disappointment.”

Ouch, low blow! Ochako-chan keels over dramatically and makes a choking noise, mumbling about her one weakness, and the rest of the group collapses into fits of laughter, feeling the stress seep out of their bodies. Eventually, someone thinks to summon the duty nurse to relay Izuku’s acceptance of the offer, and soon enough he finds himself on the way to be prepped for surgery. It won't be an easy road ahead by any means, but he isn’t walking it alone.

Chapter Text

If Izuku had thought his ten months of hell training with All Might were tough, the week of recovery following his surgery had been a whole new kind of nightmare. Iyasareru-dono had not been kidding about the lingering ache and the brain fog; they’d been practically overwhelming. Still, he’s on the other side of it now, and just has a bit of rehabilitation work to do with his leg and wrist. The whole thing is right on the border of being miraculous, save for the fact that he knows exactly what had happened and how. Still, he marvels at the lack of scarring where his skin had flaked away, tucked into a loveseat and wrapped in a blanket as he waits for the party to start in earnest. The whole of 1-A was puttering around the dorms getting things set up, save for Bakugo, who still hadn’t been discharged, and probably wouldn’t be for at least a week more. Even Aizawa had stumbled into the kitchen with the goal of making sure everything was stocked up for Izuku to make his mother’s vegetable curry don - a dish the man knew well from his junior high days, as it turns out. The Pro was also sporting a fresh new bruise on his cheek, apparently from Kayama-sensei’s reaction upon learning that Inko had stopped by and spoken to him. The man had been waiting by Izuku’s door when he’d returned to the dorms, to let him know that something important was forthcoming once he’d had time to settle in and the party was over. A gift of some sort.

The greenet’s musings are interrupted when his newest girlfriend hops up into the loveseat, worms her way under the blankets, and nuzzles up against him with a contented sigh. “Ooh, you’re warm; just what I needed, kero. I did a little bit of cold water training. Though that’s just an excuse to get you to myself for a few minutes, kero, before the party gets underway.”

“Aw, Tsu-chan, you don’t need an excuse! You know I’m always down to cuddle.” Though, he can’t help but think that that’s not what she meant, or at least not all of it. “Is something up?”

Tsu-chan nods just a little, seeming to focus on choosing her words. “Izuku-kun. This is going to sound strange, kero, but bear with me. What does it mean to you to be a boy? Or a man, I suppose, whichever you feel more strongly about, kero.”

… Huh. Not a topic he’d been expecting to tackle today. “Uh. I can’t really say I put much thought into it? What makes you ask?”

“You’ve made a comment a couple times now, kero, that made me wonder. You’ve said that you don’t really understand what it means to experience gender euphoria the way that I do. So I was curious if that was because you’d just never really sat down and had a good think, kero.”

Well, that’s. Yeah. He can’t say he ever has. “You’re right. I do say that fairly often, and I really don’t know all that much about what you mean by it. When you do girl things and think about being a girl and stuff, you seem happy, but I don’t really think about being a boy. It’s just what I am.”

“And if you thought about it right now, kero? What do you feel?”

Izuku shifts a little, drawing the frog girl closer, and ponders. He thinks about being male, about being born the way he was, about what it meant to him growing up and what it means to him now. And he’s a little uncomfortable when he lands on the answer, because it’s not really an answer at all. “Hard truth? I don’t really feel anything. To me, being male never really occurred to me; it was just kind of part of what other people said I was, you know? But in that sense, it was always a bit of a pejorative? I was a Quirkless kid, a Quirkless boy, and that made me a failure as a human and as a man. I was a sissy who cried too much, a whiny bitch who like nerdy things too much, a faggot who was too obsessed over a man in a tight suit. I was never what most people said a boy should be, and so I kind of… Didn’t connect with it. I dunno.”

Tsu-chan nods in understanding, which makes Izuku feel a little better. “Mhm. And if I were to ask you why you’re a boy? Is it just because everyone else told you you were, even if they also told you you’d failed at it, kero?”

Another thinker, that one, but the answer is much clearer. “Well, I mean. Yeah. I never really thought about being anything else. I was born a boy, I grew up a boy, I’m a boy now. And one day I’ll be a man.” Suddenly, that was a thought that made a small knot form in his chest. Would he really be a man some day? Or would he forever be that snivelling faggot who got his ass kicked on the playground for crying?

And then Tsu-chan, the wonderful girl who is one of the lives of his life, rocks his entire world with just one statement and a croak: “only if you want to be, kero.”

He doesn’t have an easy response to that. Hell, he doesn’t have a hard response to that. He swirls the thought around in his mind, rotates it like a rotisserie chicken, and finds himself wanting for an answer this time. Does he want to be? Does he want something else? He has no idea. Tsu-chan, for her part, seems to be content with rubbing herself up against him instead of demanding an answer, and this is how the two stay until Ochako-chan comes to get them for the start of the celebrations. The girl’s hand is soft and warm in his, with her finger beans tickling slightly, and Tsu-chan’s larger hand envelops his own in a way he never really noticed before. He thinks about his own hands being that soft, of his nails being neatly manicured instead of rough and chewed out of nervousness. What an interesting thing to think about.

Chapter Text

Cooking up curry don for eighteen teenagers and a teacher who has the appetite of one isn’t an easy task on the best of days, and this definitely isn’t the best of days despite how great the welcome home party has been. With Bakugo still in the hospital, Izuku has had to very quickly draft a handful of his classmates to do the basic portions of the prep work so that he himself can handle the more detailed parts of his mother’s recipe. Or, that had been the plan before Aizawa had shuffled in and started grabbing spices out of the rack and the fermented Hokkaido butter from the fridge. His mother and his teacher must have been even closer friends than he realized, for her to have taught him the Akatani family recipe. He does not, however, plan to ask Kayama-sensei if she knows it; that’s a mess he’s keeping far away from until it’s settled. His attention turns back to his work, and soon enough the curry has been finished, the rice scooped into bowls, and the class lined up for their first servings. Each student has an informally assigned seat at the large dining table, and each place is set the customary topping for its occupant to add to their don, from Kirishima’s sensible iron and calcite powder supplements to Iida’s wildly unexpected mounds of green chili paste. Only a few of the students, and Aizawa, eat it precisely as it’s served. It feels weird to miss the sound of Bakugo yelling angrily at everyone who would dare sully his Auntie Inko’s recipe by having the audacity to put toppings of their own on.

After making sure everything is set for the class to serve additional portions to themselves, Izuku finally slips into his chair between Ochako-chan and Tsu-chan, giving each a quick pack on the cheek and smiling across the table at Shoto, who is very studiously using his Quirk to cool his food to his preferred temperature without accidentally freezing it over completely. The look of intense concentration on his face is kind of adorable, and he only looks to his own meal when he feels his two girlfriends reach across him to hold hands, unconsciously placing his own over theirs while using the other to eat. He pushes the thought of manicures and nail polish firmly to one side; that can be thought about more later, right now it’s lunch time. And, it would seem, announcement time, as Aizawa stands from his place at the head of the table after polishing off his plate.

“Right, just a few things I need to get out of the way now that everyone’s finally here. Anyone who makes me repeat myself will not be having any popcorn when we watch movies later, so pay attention.” What a dad. “First and foremost: the IT department has finished screening all of your personal devices. The good news is, none of them were compromised. The bad news is, you still won’t be able to continue using them. Per the new security policy, all UA staff and students are going to be issued secure devices that will be paid for out of the discretionary budget. This will include fully covered phone plans with, to quote Nedzu, ‘all of the bells and whistles’, whatever the hell that means. They’ll be delivered tomorrow morning. Denki put your goddamn hand down, I could not care less what this means for your Azure Lane account, go play a better game and stop wasting your money on gacha. This also means personal devices will be strictly prohibited for all students. Midoriya,” Izuku jolts slightly, “you’re the exception. Or rather, the partial exception. You are allowed to continue carrying those phones you give out on your patrols; Nedzu is trusting that you’re smart enough not to use them yourself. Which segues nicely into the next thing.

“For the next two weeks while the new security systems get implemented, off-campus leave is prohibited except in the event of an emergency. Midoriya, I already know what you want to ask; I reached out to my agency and they agreed to extend the contract they already had for covering your patrols. Please do not sneak out; I know your mother and I am very aware of how badly she would kill me. And finally, the most important thing of all: the UA Sports Festival is going to be changing this year, and these changes may end up being continued through to the future. It was strongly encouraged by the Ministry of Education that we continue business as usual to put on a strong face after what happened at the USJ, but when the entire staff threatened to resign, they backed down. So. Normally, participation in the Sports Festival is mandatory, and it’s used both as a showcase of student talent and to drum up offers for the upcoming internship program with the Pro Hero agencies. As much as I’m sure you’d all love to be a part of that, it’s been deemed too large of a risk.”

This announcement is met with shocked murmurs and a few exclamations of surprise, including from Kirishima. “Sensei! Are you telling us that they’re cancelling the whole Sports Festival this year?!”

“No. Our contractual obligations with the broadcasters wouldn’t allow for a complete cancellation without major penalties; though I personally advocated that we just pay the fines and renegotiate for next year, the final decision was that participation would be made optional for all students with the exception of this class. 1-A is prohibited from participating. Instead, you’ll be doing a class project where you’ll be forming an imaginary Hero agency, researching the students of the other classes, and submitting a series of evaluations in the manner of professional talent scouts. And if I find out that you’re letting Midoriya carry you completely, you’ll find your free periods for the next month replaced with running laps around the gym.” The Pro pauses for effect. “Quirkless. With All Might. So put some effort in, hellspawn.”

Well, that’s nice of him to point out; Izuku would have been willing to carry the class if he’d had to, but honestly the rest of them could probably use the practice. He’s already made arrangements to teach Quirk analysis skills to his girlfriends, Shoto, and Kirishima, so extending those lessons to the rest of the class shouldn’t be any trouble. He’s half way through making a mental list of what he’ll need for a crash course when Iida calls out.

“Aizawa-sensei! Thank you very much for informing us of all of this, I am sure we all appreciate it, but what about Bakugo-san? Surely this is all important for him as well, and you’re usually not the type to want to say things like this more than once! Which I can only presume is the reason you waited for Midoriya to get back from the hospital; Bakugo-san will not be doing so for another week!”

Aizawa sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m not technically supposed to tell you this right now, because nothing has been finalized, but fuck it. You hellions went through a lot, and you deserve answers. Bakugo… May not be coming back when he’s better.”

The dining room erupts into shouts, with the members of the Bakusquad all jumping to their feet in various states of anger and shock, but quickly falls into silence when Aizawa hits everyone with his Quirked glare. “Pipe down! I get it, alright? Let me finish. You’d think I was dealing with a bunch of teenagers or something.” Ugh, dad jokes. “Look, I don’t agree either, but I can see the reasoning; his father is a very logical man, and it was his opinion that a first-year student shouldn’t need the expertise of one of the most powerful Quirk healers on the planet just to survive his first semester. On that, we definitely agree; none of the shit that happened should have, not on my watch, and not on the school’s watch. You may be training to become Pro Heroes, but you’re still just students, you should be safer than that in our facilities. And your families deserve to feel like you will be. If it comes down to that, we are willing to write letters of recommendation to any other school, and we’re more than happy to handle all the paperwork for a transfer. As it stands, that hasn’t been decided just yet; his parents were willing to wait for him to finish recovering before making a final call. In the meantime, you will respect their privacy on the matter. If I hear that any of you have been causing trouble, I will not hesitate to expel you.”

As Aizawa grabs his plate and moves off to the kitchen to stick it in the dishwasher, the class lapses into quiet conversation, nobody quite willing to break the tension brought about by this last announcement. Izuku excuses himself as well, kissing Ochako-chan and Tsu-chan absentmindedly and signing quickly to Shoto that he’ll be back soon, before heading off down the hall towards the staff rooms where Aizawa went. He catches up with the man, who merely grunts in what doesn’t quite seem like a dismissal, so Izuku falls in line beside him silently. The teacher opens the door to his well-appointed apartment and gestures the greenet inside with his head before slouching over to the couch falling face-down onto it. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t play the gracious host, but to be fair I didn’t actually invite you.”

Izuku politely removes his shoes, then makes the executive decision to remove his teacher’s as well, placing both pairs over by the door. This at least gets a murmur of thanks, muffled by the cushions, so he continues to be bold by stepping into the kitchen and preparing tea. He’s surprised to see that the man actually has a tin, but the label on the top declares it as a gift from Present Mic-sensei, which makes significantly more sense. “You know, I was honestly expecting cats? You seem like the kind of man who has cats, sensei.”

“They’re at Hizashi’s parent’s right now, if you must know; their vet is a ways out of the way and it was time for their annual visit. We’ve got two.”

It’s a bit of an open secret that Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta are a couple, with those especially in the know being aware that they’re somehow still not engaged despite being junior high sweethearts, but Izuku isn’t going to pry about that today. No, he’s just going to intrude on the man’s home rather than his entire life; he figures he’s cute enough to get away with that much. When the tea is finished, he pours himself a cup, and the rest of the pot into a massive mug that reads ‘World’s Okayest Boyfriend’ in English, something that he’s willing to bet isn’t Yamada-sensei’s. Bringing these back into the living room gets Aizawa to finally sit up, and he downs at least a third of it in one gulp, which would be impressive if it weren’t so concerning given the temperature. How did he do that?

“Thanks, problem child. I mean it; I was probably just going to sleep for a few hours until dinner - it’s been a hell of a week while you were in recovery.” His fingers brush over the bruise on his face, and he sighs. “Things should hopefully settle down soon, and if we’re lucky we won’t lose a student to a transfer after nearly losing him to Izanami.”

Izuku nods, sipping his tea, “If it helps, Uncle Masaru will probably relent when he’s had a chance to scratch his mad spot and get over it. He may be way less fiery than Auntie Mitsuki, but he’s no less passionate, despite how quiet he is. Not to say he’s bluffing or blustering or anything like that, he definitely means it, but he’s obviously pretty upset and needs some time to calm down - and he also needs to save face by putting on a big show. He’d never brag, but he’s an important voice in the local Shinto community, so he needs to keep up appearances.”

Aizawa sips at his tea contemplatively. “That’s right, you two grew up together, didn’t you? Well, I hope you’re right. He’s a little asshole, is Bakugo Katsuki, but I think I was starting to get through to him with the probation arrangement. It would be a shame to lose all that progress.”

The pair sit in quiet reflection as they finish drinking their tea, before Aizawa sets his mug down and reaches into the drawer of the coffee table, pulling out an envelope and passing it over to Izuku. “Here, this is that thing I told you about earlier. Saves me the trip I guess.”

Flipping it open, the greenet is shocked to see the contents: a small, square Polaroid, featuring four familiar faces and their signatures across the bottom. Kurogane Shouta, Yamada Hizashi, Kayama Nemuri, and Akatani Inko. His mother is standing between Yamada-sensei and Kayama-sensei, with one arm wrapped around the latter’s waist and the other flashing a peace sign. She looks… Happy. Just about happier than he’s ever seen her. Hell, even Aizawa is smiling over Yamada-sensei’s shoulder, and is that a blush on Kayama-sensei’s face?! Wow.

“Sensei, are you sure you want me to have this? It seems important.”

“It is,” Aizawa replies with a wry smile., “but it’s important to you too. I want you to have it as a reminder of the good times we all shared with your mother. She was one of my best friends, and she meant a lot to all of us; I want you to be able to look at that when you need to remember that despite anything else that happens, all four of us will have your back. Always.”

He tucks the picture back into the envelope before he can get tear stains on it, scrubbing an arm across his watery eyes. “Thank you, sensei. Mom never talked about her past a lot, even the stuff before dad, and I guess I know why now since I know what happened with Kayama-sensei. I’ll make sure to put this somewhere safe, and I promise to cherish it.”

Aizawa stands to grab the teacups, but pauses a moment to gently ruffle Izuku’s curls, the most affection he’s ever seen the man show. “You look after those girls of yours, problem child, and you’ll have friends just like that some day. Shoto too. But with Kirishima, well, let him look out for you the way your mom looked out for me, and you’ll both be a lot happier for it. Now away with you, back to the party and let me sleep in peace.”

With a slightly damp giggle, Izuku stands, tucking the envelope under his arm and giving his teacher a small bow. “I promise, sensei. I love Ochako-kun and Tsu-kun a lot, Shoto too; and I don’t think Kirishima would stop looking out for me even if I asked. Have a good rest, sensei.”

At this, the two part, each feeling closer to the other than they had before; Izuku to the man who knew his mother so well, and Aizawa to the kid he may have called his nephew the way the Bakugos do if things had turned out just a little differently.

Chapter Text

Parent-teacher conferences are the absolute worst goddamn part of working at UA, and there is nothing in the world that could convince Kayama Nemuri otherwise. Even for the normal meet-and-greet kind of garbage it’s just annoying to listen to parents gawp and ramble and rave about their kids, much as she usually likes the kids themselves, but today she had been roped into the big conference with the Class 1-A parents to go over all the security changes after the attack on the USJ. Which is so not her wheelhouse! She’s an art teacher, damn it, never mind that she’s a Pro Hero! But this had been an all hands on deck moment, and let neither kami nor devil imply that Nemuri was incapable of stepping up. Some of the parents had travelled a long way to be there - on the school’s yen - and had been in a sour mood about the whole thing. The Bakugos in particular were threatening to pull their son from the school entirely! She’d done her best to help smooth things over, and they’d luckily managed to avoid any other parents freaking out too much, but it was still mentally draining. She was thankful for the two absentees: Todoroki Enji, that smug fucking bastard, had replied to their official letter with a canned refusal to show up, citing his status as the Number Two Pro Hero to explain how busy he was (or rather, his secretary had; that was an auto-pen signature if she’d ever seen one), and of course there was her. Or rather, there wasn’t her. Zashi had offered to take a private meeting to account for the fact that it was all happening during visiting hours at Shizuoka General. Fucker.

Finally, she reaches the door of the apartment she has in the teachers’ dorm tower, just down the hall from Hizashi and Shouta’s at her own request so she could stop in to visit them without having to walk across half the campus. She fumbles for her keys, forgetting where exactly in the suit she never wears she’d put the stupid things, only to drop them the second she’s dug them out.

“Ne-tan.”

A name she hasn't heard in years. She knows the voice all too well, and she’d recognize the woman it belongs to anywhere, even now. She looks older, far older than she should. But she’s still... Nemuri had once overheard someone call Akatani Inko a pretty little porcelain doll, but they were wrong. She’s a beautiful little porcelain doll. Standing there, just around the corner, tucking that gorgeous green hair behind her ear and smiling that damned smile that had stolen Nemuri’s heart the moment she saw it all those years ago, she’s just as perfect as the day she’d been lost to that conniving, manipulative piece of shit named Midoriya Hisashi. Looking at her it’s a wonder that the Pro Hero hadn’t made the connection between her and her son before that fateful encounter with Shouta; the green of their hair and the warmth in their eyes is so distinctive. But Inko had taken that bastard’s name, and Nemuri had forgotten it, for all she’d never forgotten the man himself. Now, though? Now she can’t help but think about it every time she sees Izuku in her class, the bright and brilliant and wonderful boy that he is.

The boy that should have been hers.

Inko - not senpai, not anymore - strolls forward with a confidence in her stride that belies what she’d been told she was usually like these days, but that matched Nemuri’s memories of her perfectly, coming to a stop before the taller woman who used to be her junior and using her Quirk to lift the keys back into her hand. “Hello, Ne-tan. I think it’s time we have a chat.”

Fuck. There’s that commanding tone that has always been her undoing. Nemuri can’t help but unlock the door and invite the greenette in, letting her seat herself in one of the armchairs around the table as she goes to fix some tea. This gives her a moment to lean on the counter out of sight and try to compose herself. This fails miserably, of course, and she bites back a shriek of frustration. She wishes she could just use her Quirk on her former upperclassman and escape out the window or something, but it’s way too late for that. Instead, she pours the tea into her finest cups and sets them on a tray with a few sticks of dango she keeps in the fridge. It’s not until Inko’s politely partaking in the snack that she realizes why she keeps dango in the fridge: because it was her girlfriend’s favourite. And so, for that matter, is the brand of tea. Inko says nothing about either, damn her; she’s just too polite to bring it up. Everything about her is still perfect all these years later, the polite little heiress to the Akatani legacy. ‘Former heiress’, she reminds herself; one never lost those kinds of manners, though. She’s still mad at herself for not insisting that Inko pick her family over their relationship, given how it had ended, but the woman had always made her own way in life, and damn the consequences. Even if one of those consequences happens to be in the hospital going through recovery from a major surgery right now.

“He likes you, you know.”

That one statement, delivered calmly and quietly with just a hint of a smile, is nearly Nemuri’s undoing. “He does, huh?”

“Oh, she speaks! I thought you may have taken a vow of silence today or something; Hizashi-kun told me your least favourite part of the job is meeting the parents,” Inko titters softly, that polite upper-society laugh, “but yes! My little Izuku is a big fan of yours, and not for the reasons every other teenage boy is - and no doubt some teenage girls as well. Did you know he actually has a copy of your book? Honestly I forgot you’d written that, but that group he works with sometimes, the Collector something or other, they gave him an original edition - the kami only know where they got it. He mentioned something about it being a ‘seminal text’ for modern art history; that’s what you teach here, right?”

Hearing the woman who was once her closest confidant speak to her like this feels like Nemuri has been dipped in a sewer. Were they not friends once? Never mind that they haven't seen each other in years, didn’t they spend all that time in their younger days unlearning all this crap, doing everything they could to speak to one another like people? It’s time to put a stop to this shit.

“Inko-nee.”

Ha, there it is. The greenette’s train of thought sputters to a halt, and she turns an absolutely adorable shade of red. Wait, no, Nemuri stop being gay over your ex for a second, focus! “What are you doing, Inko-nee? I know we’re not friends anymore, but I figured you’d at least still talk to me like I’m a human being and not one of those socialites you always hated.”

The other woman has the good grace to look ashamed as she sips her tea, and the tension visibly leaves her body as she slumps into the chair. “Sorry, that was rude of me; I should have remembered how much you hate it. I fall back on acting that way when I’m nervous.” Same as she ever did. “He really does have your book though. Oh, he was so excited to show it to me! But I didn’t have the heart to tell him why I recognized the author.”

It feels like a breath of fresh air to see Inko like this; not the sadness tinging her beautiful green eyes, but the vulnerability and realness of it. “Yeah, I remember giving the leftover copies I had to a preservation group. I only printed what, fifty? And you wouldn’t let me credit you even though you edited half the thing for me! Kami, that was a long time ago. Feels like a life I dreamed up, which explains why it turned into a nightmare.” That was a bit mean, but Nemuri can’t deny the truth of the statement even if she feels bad at the way the other woman winces. She still remembers how it felt when Inko turned her back and walked away. “The past is the past, the now is the now. At the end of the day, I guess I didn’t think you’d actually pick him.”

Oh, that’s hit a nerve. Inko very carefully sets her teacup down and draws herself up to her full height, bristling darkly. “I only picked him because you made me choose. Don’t you dare sit there and act like you’re totally blameless in what happened, Kayama Nemuri!”

It’s Nemuri’s turn to get her hackles raised, putting her own cup down with a lot less care. “I only ever wanted to keep what we had! Hisashi was trying to take that away with his sweet little lies, and I wasn’t willing to lose you to that! I wasn’t the one who decided I wasn’t worth loving anymore!”

“I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU YOU STUPID GIRL!” Inko is shouting now, loudly enough to make the teacups rattle, and Nemuri finds herself taken aback by her ferocity as well as her words. “Never once in all that time did I ever stop being in love with my Ne-tan! But I loved him too, damn it! Yes, I know now that he wasn’t the man I thought he would be when we started dating. I know that he just wanted me for my body. But what I knew back then was that I had two wonderful, amazing people in my life and I wanted to have them both. At the time, Hii-san was willing to be part of a trio with the two of us; hindsight is as clear as day, so he absolutely wanted you for your body too, but the only one who wasn’t even willing to try was you.”

Tears stream down Inko’s cheeks, mirroring Nemuri’s own, and when she speaks again it's so much quieter. “I’m sorry that I didnʼt believe you about his lies back then. You were jealous, of course you were, but I should have trusted you more and seen that there was more to what you were saying. But giving me an ultimatum, putting me on the spot like that? That hurt, Ne-tan. And so did you cutting me off. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for me to be turned away at UA’s gates because you said you didn’t know me when I came to watch the entrance exams?”

Right. She had done that, hadn’t she? What’s worse, she knows she’d done it maliciously. She’d wanted to hurt Inko the way that she felt Inko had hurt her. And it had felt good back then! But now it just makes her feel sick. It was petty, and stupid, and it should have been beneath her, never mind that she was a teenager going through heartbreak. “I really fucked up a good thing, didn’t it?”

“Yeah. But so did I, really. I wish I would’ve fought harder to keep you by my side; you deserved that much.” Inko pulls a small packet of tissues from the pocket of her cardigan and offers it to Nemuri after taking a few for herself. “When the dust settled, I ended up with neither of you; just a kid to raise by myself and a pile of student loans I could barely handle. I think that’s what pushed Izuku towards working for those archivists, wanting to help with the finances. And it helped, but no child should ever have to take on a job to help their parents manage the bills instead of playing with their friends after school. Oh, but listen to me carry on; I should get out of your hair. I’m sure you’ve got work to do.”

Inko goes to stand, but Nemuri is faster, shooting to her feet before she even realizes what she’s doing. She can’t let things end like this. Not again. She can never let Inko-nee leave on a sour note ever again. “Stay! Please. I, uh. Well, it’s actually my weekend off, if you can believe it; I haven’t got much to do, and really I haven’t got anything I’d rather do. We can. I dunno, we can catch up? Properly, now that we’ve yelled at each other. I want to hear about your life, what Izuku was like growing up, all the things normal people talk about. Never mind that neither of us has been normal a day in our lives.”

Inko-nee’s laughter this time is cleaner, warmer, sincere. “We really haven’t, have we? The art prodigy turned lascivious Pro Hero and the outcast bisexual daughter of Japan’s oldest fashion house. What a pair! Alright, I can stay a while longer; let me just text Izuku so he knows where I am.”

While Inko-nee does that, Nemuri returns to the kitchen with the snack tray to make a little more tea and set out the last of her dango, as well as sending a text of her own to Shouta and Hizashi, asking them to pick up some more and bring it by. On impulse, she also asks if they’d mind a plus one for their usual movie night. She hears back from Zashi first, as usual, a paragraphs-long speech to text message that’s at least eighty percent roasting her for being so quick to bring her ex on a date after the trio had gotten into an all-out brawl over the very idea of seeing the woman again just the other day. Well, he’s free to gloat, the smarmy bastard, but this is not a date. It’s just some old friends catching up and having a nice time together, thank you very much. She returns to the living room with the tea and extends the offer to the other woman.

“Oh? Asking me on a date so soon? You always were a bold one, Ne-tan!”

Fuck. Inko-nee still knows how to tease her perfectly. Nemuri is well and truly cooked, as the kids say, but the truth is that she wouldn’t miss it for the world. And maybe things will work out one way, maybe another, but no matter what the future may bring, the past is the past, and it’s time to leave those old hurts behind. She’s not stupid enough to think that one day of being friendly towards one another, one little shouting match, will be enough to make up for the intervening years, but damn it she is going to try. Let neither kami nor devil imply that Nemuri was incapable of stepping up.

Chapter Text

Massive blast doors were not what Izuku expected to see at the entrance to the Support Course’s Development Studio, but he can’t say he’s exactly surprised by them either. He’s heard a few horror stories circulating through the school’s rumour mill (courtesy of Mina and Denki), and it does make sense to be prepared for anything when dealing with teenagers who have access to all kinds of dangerous materials for developing Hero outfits. He squeezes Ochako-chan’s hand for support and pushes the button on the intercom, which crackles to life in a surprisingly low-tech manner.

“Power Loader’s office, Maijima speaking.”

Oh good, he’s in. “Hello Maijima-sensei, it’s Midoriya Izuku and Uraraka Ochako; we made an appointment earlier to talk about our outfits?”

“Let’s see, Midoriya and Uraraka… Yep, I’ve got you on the schedule right here. Give me just a second and I’ll come get you.”

Having never actually seen Power Loader up close, Izuku is wholly unprepared for the man who greets them at the door to be his own size. The teacher has a bit of tight, corded muscle to be sure, but he’s lanky, with long arms and bow legs that make him look even shorter, as do his oversized gloves. “Uraraka, you were here to talk about waterproofing, right? The students who worked on your outfit are out for the day, but I can walk through the adjustments with you. Midoriya, you’re looking to get a full overhaul if I recall; that’s going to take some doing, but unfortunately the student you were assigned to is in today so you’ll get to meet her.”

Wait, unfortunately? Ochako speaks up as Power Loader guides them into the studio, past large piles of organized mess. “Yes sensei; you might have heard that during the USJ Incident, I got dropped in the lake of the Flood Zone, and most of my gear got completely waterlogged. I was surprised such an obvious flaw was overlooked!”

“Ah, but it wasn’t overlooked,” Power Loader corrects gently, “it was left that way on purpose. Under normal circumstances, Heroics Department students will get their costumes made to spec exactly as ordered, do some regular usage as they go through their curriculum, and find flaws in their own designs. These are then brought to us, and we get the students assigned to them to go over those flaws with the Heroics students, pointing out any they missed and working together to fix them in the next iteration. We don’t usually expect students to face actual villains in ‘em! You guys got real damn unlucky.”

“Oh! That makes a lotta sense, actually! Well, if the changes have already been noted, I suppose that’s not much for me to worry about; thank you, sensei.”

“Now, Midoriya, you’re a bit of a different case,” Power Loader supplies as he stops walking and turns towards the greenet. “Your outfit was made by a third party, right? And you’re wanting a total replacement?”

Izuku nods sheepishly. “Yeah, my mom helped me with it. And she did great work, don’t get me wrong, but when I designed it I didn’t have a full grasp on my Quirk just yet. I had put in for some special shoes for an upgrade that didn’t end up being ready in time for the USJ, and ended up ruining my usual ones. Now that I’ve got some actual solid data recorded, I know a lot more about what’s going to be necessary to use my outfit to its fullest potential in conjunction with my Quirk! I’m excited to talk shop with your student.”

At this, Power Loader visibly winces, rubbing the back of his head. “About that. I gotta warn you, you ended up with one of the more… Eccentric students in 1-H. She means well, and she’s damn good at what she does, don’t get me wrong, but she can get pretty intense. And she’s not good with communicating, neither.”

Izuku can’t help but chuckle at that. “Power Loader-sensei, I work with people who are bad at communicating all the time, I’m sure it’ll be okay. I’m glad to be teaming up with someone who’s passionate about her work!”

Power Loader guides them to the furthest corner of the Development Studio, where Izuku can see a mess of pink dreadlocks poking up over a pile of materials, as well as a bunch of papers and half-finished projects scattered across the top of a table haphazardly. Is that karpatite? What in the world is she doing with that?

The Pro clears his throat loudly. “Hatsume, your two o’clock is here.”

“Just a second, sensei! I’m close to a breakthrough this time, I can taste it! I can get it, I know I can get it, because she deserves better than those clowns! Tell my two o’clock they might be a two fifteen.”

Power Loader sighs, but Izuku waves him away with an understanding smile, stepping over to where a cluster of stools is set up and peering over the paperwork as Ochako-chan takes up a seat next to him. Huh, this looks like it’s for Hagakure; did Hatsume get assigned to her too? No, she’d made mention of ‘those clowns’; likely her fellow support students who had failed to offer the invisible girl anything actually useful in terms of a Hero outfit. Is she taking on the challenge? She must be. As he waits, he decides to look over what she’s got, and it looks really thorough, except for one little thing that stands out to him like a sore thumb because of his Quirk studies.

“Hatsume-san? Your refractive index is off.”

The pink locks freeze, and a head pops up over the pile of stuff, a pair of absolutely fascinating eyes staring at him in bewilderment. “What? No it isn’t, I did the math seven times!”

Izuku lifts the offending paper and points to one of the calculations. “No, see, look where you’ve rounded for the velocity of light in Toru-san’s Quirk here, right? If you just use inference from seeing her Quirk through a video feed you'd think it makes sense to round at the fifth decimal place, but if you round at the ninth you’ll get a more accurate result - which to be fair only makes any sense to do if you've seen it up close. Hang on.” He rummages around in his backpack and pulls out the latest volume of Quirk Analysis journals, flipping to the correct page and passing it to the pink-haired support student, only wincing internally a little when she takes it with grease-stained fingers. “You see?”

The girl’s irises appear to rotate as she stares at the paper, and suddenly she leaps up, shoving things off the work bench and grabbing others frantically, including the karpatite. Within moments she’s assembled some sort of emitter, which she hangs upside-down in an arm clamp over a piece of fabric. She mutters what sounds like a small prayer and flips a toggle, causing the device to whir to life with an electric hum. A perfectly transparent hole appears in the fabric and Hatsume shrieks, pumping her fists in the air. She turns to Izuku and grabs his hand, shaking it excitedly. “You did it, greenie! You fixed what was wrong with my field generator! With this, that invisible girl will be able to wear a real Hero outfit that can fade away with her Quirk! Oh, you and me are gonna get along swell; I wanna make so many babies with you, greenie!”

Wait, what?!

“Inventions!” Power Loader interjects frantically, waving his hands around, “she calls her inventions her babies. She wants to make you cool support gear.”

Hatsume nods eagerly, her grin wide. “Well, yes, lots and lots of them, but also hello? Greenie has some damn nice genetics; I'd tap that in a heartbeat!”

What?!

“Hey!” Ochako-chan shouts, getting Hatsume’s attention and looking cross. “He’s already got girlfriends! Back off a little, would ya?!”

“Girlfriends plural? So you’re already fine with sharing him, right?”

Oh this is not going well at all. He lays a gentle hand on Ochako-chan’s shoulder to keep her from jumping up and possibly murdering Hatsume, speaking with a professional calmness that he doesn’t really feel. “I appreciate the interest, but I’m not looking for another partner right now. Besides, we’ve barely been introduced - there’s social niceties that need to be observed before that kind of talk.” Sure, it’s a little bit condescending, but he knows Hatsume’s type, and she clearly needs to be told what is and isn’t appropriate.

“Oh! Is this one of those situations? Okay.” The girl wipes her hands indelicately on her pants, which does exactly nothing to clean them, and gives a formal, carefully-practiced bow. “My name is Hatsume Mei, founder and chief scientist of Hatsume Industries. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I apologize for any offense I may have caused.”

Brushing off his girlfriend’s grumblings about dogeza, Izuku smiles and inclines his head gently. “It’s good to meet you as well, Hatsume-san, and I both accept and appreciate the apology. My name is Midoriya Izuku, and this is Uraraka Ochako, one of my girlfriends. The other, Asui Tsuyu, is back at the dorms waiting for us to return, so I’d like to get right down to… How do you say ‘brass tacks’ in Japanese again? Wait, no, that’s an English idiom. Not important! What I mean is I’d like to work out my new costume design with you quickly so I can get back to Tsu-chan.”

“Ohhh, so I’ll need permission from the other girlfriend who isn’t here to flirt with you too, right? That makes sense!” She turns to Ochako-chan with such an intense look of excitement that the brunette jumps in her seat. “Before I forget cause I know I’m gonna get wrapped up in all the sciency stuff: permission to flirt with your boyfriend, miss?”

Izuku can see a slight flash of cunning in his girlfriend’s eyes as she discovers a way out and has to suppress a laugh. “You know what? I’m gonna have to talk to Tsu-chan about it first before I can answer.”

Hatsume nods eagerly before returning her attention to Izuku, who simply holds out another small journal from his backpack, this one intended to get dirty. “I’ve got all the data I was able to gather about my Quirk during the USJ Incident, as well as from recordings of my own training sessions which I’ve also had forwarded to your student inbox. Obviously you know how to handle classified material as a Support Course student, but I want to stress that those recordings in particular are strictly need-to-know because the other person featured in them is All Might. Now, the main points of interest are the reinforcements at the joints and also gloves that are made to the same specifications as my new shoes were, but with a bit more flexibility if possible. The joints need to be reinforced specifically for striking, with the minimum tolerances listed in page twelve, and composite suggestions on page twenty. Also I found that my mask and hood were too bulky together and need to reduce the combination to just a mask, one that can sit around the neck and be donned quickly as necessary rather than being integrated into any sort of headgear, and I’ve sketched out several suggestions starting on page twenty-two for goggles or glasses to replace the upper portion of the mask and how to seat them for easy deployment without the risk of falling off or getting in my way. With me so far?”

Hatsume nods eagerly and launches into a fast-paced reply of her own. “I saw your original outfit and noted that it was really nice aesthetically but didn’t really offer anything by way of support for your Quirk, which made sense when I checked the school’s registry and noticed how much detail was lacking from it! While I was making your shoes I came up with a few ideas of my own based on those and they can be easily tweaked by any competent designer based on the full data you’ve provided here - not that I would call myself merely competent - but a couple of them did rely on more exotic materials that sensei said were outside of my allotment of the program’s budget. However, I was able to secure samples of each of the materials for fairly cheap and I’ve heard that you have someone in your class whose Quirk involves being able to replicate and reproduce just about any nonliving thing so I figured you might be able to sweet-talk her into helping out if I provided those samples and schematics of their exact physical and molecular compositions!”

The two trade rapid-fire exchanges that fly mostly over the head of the teacher and the other girl, both sharing a fond smile and a shrug, and their back-and-forth is only interrupted when Izuku;s phone begins to ring. “Oh, sorry about that! I really have to take this. Toshi, what’s up, I thought you were on your way to Yokohama today?”

“Is this Midorya Izuku-san?”

Izuku’s face grows dark hearing the unfamiliar voice, and his voice shifts into a cold growl. “It might be. Who are you and why do you have Toshi’s phone?”

“This is Sasaki Mirai, I’m an old friend of Yagi’s. I need you to come to the dorms right away; we’ve had to radio for a helicopter and you need to be on board.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“Midoriya-san, there’s been an incident. Yagi’s being airlifted to Central Hospital. Please, hurry.”

Oh no. No no no no, not like this. “Hatsume-san, sensei, I’m sorry but there’s an emergency. Ochako-chan, hold on tight!”

“Hold on to wh- eeeeEEEEEEE AAAAAAHHHH!”

Izuku grabs his girlfriend in a princess carry, Quirk snapping to life under his skin, and sprints, running for the dorms like he’s never run before. Ochako-chan’s yell rings out through the halls as they go, glad that most of the school is empty at this time of day; he doesn’t have nearly as much practice as Iida at swerving at speed and he’d hate to run anyone down. There will be time to explain and apologize later; right now his only focus is on getting to that helicopter and finding out what had happened to Yagi Toshinori.

Chapter Text

The flight from UA to Central Hospital had been a rapid and surprisingly uneventful one, with Toshi being loaded into a separate part of the medevac helicopter from Izuku. He’d simply needed to present his student card to the emergency responders, and had been bundled on board immediately upon confirmation of his identity. The two had spoken a bit about it before; as All Might, the man had quite a bit of sway, allowing him to request a bend in the usual rules regarding family members to make sure Izuku and his mother were given priority access in the event of an emergency, which wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility given his health. He just hadn’t expected it to happen now, especially so soon after he’d been cleared medically in the wake of the attack on the USJ. What he’d like to know is just what had happened, but the man on the phone hadn’t himself been on the helicopter so he was stuck waiting in the private lounge area of All Might’s personal wing. Being a fabulously wealthy Pro Hero sure comes with a lot of perks; everything here is state of the art, even beyond the medical equipment right down to the vending machines that make up the automated cafe. The wing is practically a second hospital in its own right, constructed with a generous grant to minimize potential media exposure of either the Number One himself or those under his direct care such as his agency staff.

Two sets of doors mark each end of the lounge, one leading to the security booth at the main entrance and the other deeper into the wing where the medical staff and Toshi are, and it’s the former pair that slides open to admit a tall, stick-thin man in a slightly rumpled grey suit. He spots Izuku immediately and makes a beeline for him, halting a few feet away and inclining his head respectfully. “You must be Midoriya-san. I’m Sasaki Mirai, I’m-”

“Sir Nighteye,” Izuku interrupts in a dull, tired voice, tucking his phone back into his jacket, “Toshi’s former Sidekick. Sorry, can we skip the pleasantries for now?”

“Of course.” Sasaki pushes his oddly-shaped glasses up a bit higher on his nose, his own voice sounding tightly professional. “I was at UA to see Yagi for the first time in a very long time. He invited me to drive out to Yokohama with him, and he was running a bit late due to fretting over what to pack. We had a few moments of… Discussion. About his choice in a successor. He walked past me at one point, and when I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him, that is when it happened. Now, what you need to know about my Quirk is that it is not touch-activated; it is a complex mechanism which is based on touch and line of sight, but it is crucial to understand that Foresight is not capable of activating accidentally. And this is crucial to understand because that is exactly what happened.”

Sasaki looks like he’s barely holding himself together, hanging on by a string of absolute professionalism. “I did not see much, which is as unusual as the event itself, just you getting on that helicopter and a few flashes of something else. When it stopped, Yagi… Yagi was on the ground, bleeding heavily from his nose and mouth and having one of his attacks. I called Central Hospital, then Nedzu, then you. And here we are.”

Izuku wordlessly hooks his ankle around the leg of the chair next to his and slides it out from the table towards Nighteye, who collapses into it like every bone in his body has turned to liquid. It’s strange, seeing a man of his stature who’s known for being so secretive having such a painfully human moment, but he’d taken off the rose-tinted glasses back on that rooftop when he’d confronted Toshi about what it really means to be a hero. “Thank you for calling me, Sasaki-dono.” Doesn’t hurt to be polite now that he knows more of what’s happening.

“I should take a moment to apologize to you, Midoriya,” Nighteye replies in a low, exhausted rumble. “I said some unfair things to Yagi, about you. He was vociferous in your defense, in a way that I had not heard since… Well, never mind that right now. On the way over, I was able to read up on the private file Mighty Agency has on you, and I see now just how wrong I was to view you as a poor candidate to be the next holder of One for All. I only hope I get to apologize to Yagi as well. For a great many things.”

“Sasaki-dono. It’s okay, I know.”

Izuku barely has the energy to suppress a laugh at the look of absolute bewilderment that crosses the former Sidekick’s face. “You know? Know what?”

“About you and Toshi. I’m the one who told him to invite you to Yokohama.” It shouldn’t feel as satisfying as it does to watch the horror dawning on Sasaki, that’s mean. “It wasn’t really hard to piece together, since I’ve been spending so much time with him; I doubt anyone else noticed though. I thought he was going to meet you out there; I’m glad you decided to drive up with him instead - kami only know what would have happened if he’d had that attack while he was alone. And, I forgive you for whatever you said about me. I didn’t expect you to like me as his choice of successor, but I guess I’m better than nothing.”

“Oh. I see. Well, thank you for being understanding, Midoriya.”

The two fall into silence, Izuku returning to his phone and rapid-fire texting everyone he can think to. Class 1-A are all on the list of those allowed to know about All Might’s condition specifically, and then there’s his various contacts both on the street and through the Collective who will be best served by knowing he’ll be out of touch for a little while. He knows Toshi would want him to continue on his patrols, but he’s going to have a hard enough time being willing to go back to class after this, let alone do anything else, and in Izuku’s line of work being distracted could get others hurt, to say nothing of himself. He also very, very carefully makes arrangements to have word spread that there may or may not be some surprising news coming out in the near future, the kind that could make people very nervous. It’s pragmatic, as much as he hates to even think about the possibility that Toshi may not bounce back from this one. Even if it just ends up being a longer stay, word has to get out beforehand so that the aftershock can be managed in critical positions, both in Musutafu and around the country. The Collective can get to work fast on the latter, and he knows Mama Nya is the best point of contact on the former. Details are kept sparing, but being the Saviour of Musutafu gives him a certain amount of sway that he’s never been more thankful for than this moment.

It’s never going to be perfect, but he can do his part to keep people from getting hurt.

It’s at least two hours later that one of the nurses comes out to usher the pair through to Toshi’s room, saying that the man is conscious for the moment (a fact Izuku doesn’t miss as being temporary), and he can’t help but let a few tears fall when he sees just how awful the man looks. He’s fully deflated, hooked up to a whole host of machines, and as pale as a corpse. Toshi gestures them closer with the weak crook of his finger, the ghost of a smile playing across his lips. “Ah, there you are, two of the most important fellows in my life.” His voice is strained and quiet in a way that makes Izuku’s chest hurt. “Mirai, old friend, I am sorry to have to cancel our trip. But, I am glad you could meet young Izuku, even under these circumstances. You see it in him, yes? That spark, the one that left both of our eyes when I got hurt. I know, I know, you had picked that boy of yours to be my successor, but I hope you’ll forgive me for being a stubborn old fool and choosing someone else. I think Izuku will surprise you yet.”

Sasaki slips a hand into Toshi’s own, careful to avoid disturbing any of the sensors, and squeezes it gently. “Yagi, you are an old fool; I would forgive you anything you asked. I still…” His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. “No, we can save that for when you’re better. And you will get better. I must keep that faith in my heart. But, Yagi, there’s something else. I was in Izumo the other day; I had heard rumours and needed to see if they were true.”

Izuku can see the heart rate monitor spike slightly, and hear Toshi’s break quicken. “Rumours? Mirai, tell me it’s not!”

“Yes, this is about him. The time has come.”

Toshi’s eyes widen, looking fearful in a way Izuku has never seen. “And you’ve seen this yourself, Mirai? You’re sure of it?!”

“I am. He’s gone.”

“And the stone? What colour was the stone? Was I right?!” Sasaki hesitates, drawing a weak but fierce growl from the man in the bed. “Damn you, Mirai, don’t treat me like I’ve already died! What colour?”

“Green. It was green. I’ve already made the arrangements.”

With a long sigh like his very soul is escaping past his lips, Toshi collapses back into his pillows, coughing just a bit. “I thought we had more time. It’s too soon, far too soon, but if he’s already gone then it needs to be now. Go, Mirai; tell him. Everything you can. Izuku my boy, I’m sorry that I could not do this myself. I trust Mirai with my life, but more importantly I am trusting him with yours. Please, hear him out.”

Sleeping. He’s just sleeping. Izuku’s mind races as he and Sasaki return to the lounge, trying to process what the hell just happened. “Sasaki-dono, what the fuck?”

The Pro pulls up a chair and gestures for Izuku to do the same. “Sorry, this is going to be a lot to get a handle on. First, a baseline. Can you tell me what you know about the period in history known as the Age of Gods?”

Izuku nods, still confused. “It was about a century ago; it refers to a time when immensely powerful Quirks were more widespread, and powerful Quirk users more or less ruled the world. It poses a counter-theory, or in some circles a sister theory, to the idea of Quirk Singularity. Most first-hand accounts didn’t survive the event that ended it, the massive war waged between some of the greatest Quirks to ever exist, on par with godhood. Some scholars cite two, others as many as twelve. All of them died, and that brought the Age of Gods to an end, restoring rule to the people.”

Sasaki nods. “Most of the scholars are a bit off; there were four godheads, and their disciples made up the other eight. Some first-hand accounts survived through the passing of One for All between its wielders, and in fact all four Cardinal Lords are believed to have survived. Here in Japan, there was the Lord of the East, who took a step back from direct rule to become something of a spiritual advisor for the Emperor after sustaining an injury in that war. He gave a prophecy into the keeping of the holders of yours and Yagi’s Quirk: one day, he would die, and when he did he would leave a sign behind for the one who was to journey to meet the Lord of the West and speak to them. What about wasn’t made known, just that they would be known by the colour of the stone in his shrine. And that stone turned green.”

Green. Midori. Midoriya. It makes an uncomfortable amount of sense; everything in Izuku’s life has been a series of incredibly wild coincidences, leading all the way to him becoming the next holder of One for All practically out of nowhere. “I hate absolutely everything about that, just so you’re aware Sasaki-dono. Answer me one question, and then I’ll decide if I’m willing to take you at your word about… All of this.”

“Anything you need.”

This is it, make or break time. “If this Lord of the West is from the Age of Gods, could they have something, some way to fix Toshi? Iyasareru-dono’s Quirk won’t work, obviously; the shock would be too much for his body, and putting him in a coma would kill him outright. But this is a god we’re talking about, or at least the closest thing to it. Is there a chance?”

Sasaki shrugs, which is honest of him. “The chances aren’t zero, that’s the best I can offer. All I can say for sure is that they live somewhere in North America, and that they’re known for answering questions, for a price. Any one question, in exchange for something the one who asks believes is worth the answer.”

“I’ll go, then,” Izuku says firmly, squeezing his hands into fists. “If there’s even a chance that I could help Toshi, that’s what really matters to me. Everything else is secondary, prophecy included. But I’ll need some way to get there, and I’ll need to say my goodbyes.”

“I have already made arrangements. She should be arriving any minute now, I-. Ah, speak of the devil.”

There’s some sort of commotion by the doors to the security booth, and they slide open to admit a group of people in body armour, full-cover helmets with mirrored visors, and carrying large assault rifles. They move smoothly to flank the entrance, guns down but ready, and Izuku jumps to his feet, Quirk crackling beneath his skin as he shifts into a defensive stance out of reflex. He feels Sasaki’s hand on his arm, and the Pro shakes his head, mouthing the word ‘friendlies’. This doesn’t relax him, but what does is the tall, broad-shouldered woman who walks in after them, her long, perfectly-coiffed hair flowing behind her as she stalks dangerously towards the pair before dropping down and wrapping Izuku in a tight hug. “Izuku! Kami, it’s been too long. I’d ask if you’ve been well but that would be stupid under these circumstances.”

“Wait, Tomoe-san?” Izuku lets out a warm laugh, wrapping his arms most of the way around the woman. “Oh my goodness, it’s been forever! I’m happy to see you, but what in the world are you doing here?”

She takes a step back and ruffles his hair, offering a hand for Sasaki to shake. “Tomoe Yuzu, Vice Chair of International Relations for the HPSC. Your request came to our office because of its nature, and made its way to me because of my personal connection to Izuku here. I owe him my life, so I pulled a few strings to expedite the license.”

Sasaki looks bewildered again, so Izuku takes pity on him. “Tomoe-san and I go back a few years. I came across a pretty nasty car accident while I was out and about, and one of the drivers was stuck. Nobody else was there, and I wasn’t willing to risk waiting for the first responders because the other car was on fire and I didn’t know how fast it might spread. I was carrying a window breaker with a seatbelt cutter on the other end and managed to get her out.”

Sasaki pinches the bridge of his nose. “Of course you would not only know a Vice Chair with the HPSC, but they would owe you a favour. I really should not be surprised, knowing what I know of you.”

“Hey!” Izuku protests over Tomoe-san’s laughter, “she wasn’t a Vice Chair when I met her! Congratulations on the promotion, by the way.”

“Thank you. And, I come bearing a gift!” She takes a small manila envelope from inside her jacket and presents it to Izuku with both hands. “By request of Sasaki Mirai, you’re being issued an International Special Activities License. Normally this would be appended to your Hero license, provisional or otherwise, but an exception is being made because as of about an hour ago, you are acting director of Mighty Agency, as heir apparent of its founder. As such, it’s appended to your student card instead. Now, keep in mind that the ISAL is not a Hero license of any kind - it authorizes limited Quirk usage on a personal level in case of emergencies, but it absolutely does not permit you to engage in Hero activities. In short, it’s a way to bypass any stringent Quirk licensing laws in member states while travelling abroad. Don’t lose it, either; it’s also an emergency passport.”

Well, that’s convenient. Izuku places the envelope in his bag, and hugs Tomoe-san again. “Thank you for this.”

“I’m so happy I could finally help you after what you did for me. I wish I could stay to catch up, but I have to run back to the office and make sure everything’s in order. If you need anything while you’re overseas, don’t hesitate to call my office and we’ll move heaven and earth to help you.”

Hopefully knowing that is enough to make his mom and his girlfriends feel better once he lets them know that he’s leaving. Which he should do as soon as possible. He says his goodbyes to Tomoe, returning to his seat and pulling out his phone, firing off texts to Ochako-chan and Tsu-chan before dialing his home line. “Mom? Yeah, Toshi’s as okay as he can be right now. Listen, something important has come up; can you come by the hospital? Yeah, it’s about Toshi; I’ll tell you everything once you and the girls get here. Okay. I love you too.”

It’s going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Buried at the bottom of a pile of his friends isn’t quite where Izuku had expected to be after getting back to the dorms, but it’s definitely where he most wants to be right now. He, Ochako-chan, and Tsu-chan had been ambushed by Shoto and Kirishima as soon as they’d walked in the door, wrapped in a large blanket, and hauled off to the dorm’s quiet room, with Iida running point on keeping the rest of the class from pestering them. The cozy, insulated space stocked with snacks, pillows, and plush toys had been Aizawa’s idea, intended as a small escape for any guests who needed it; the students themselves had their own rooms to retreat to, but was still co-opted on occasion for large cuddle puddles in need of the extra space and privacy. The five friends stay like this for a little while, limbs entangled and skin pressed against skin wherever their clothes have shifted, until someone’s stomach makes a loud growl of protest, bringing a round of laughter. It’s Kirishima who gets up first, with an air of dramatic reluctance, grabbing and distributing chips, chocolate, mochi snacks, and soft drinks. They’ll return to the dorm proper for real food later.

“So.” It’s Tsu-chan who breaks the ice, but not with any of the expected topics. “Hatsume Mei, kero? Ochako-chan tells me she’s quite the character, kero.”

Ugh. Izuku had almost forgotten about the pink menace. “You could say that. I dunno if she was serious about the flirting thing, but she was definitely serious about wanting to make babies with me - and not just the support gear.”

“She’s got some dang nerve!” Ochako-chan grumps between mouthfuls of mochi, her accent slipping. “Sayin’ that kinda stuff like I ain’t right there. An’ then she had the guts to ask ma permission to flirt with him! I told her I’d hafta ask you, Tsu, cause I ain’t his only girlfriend. Got me outta givin’ her an answer, but that won’t last forever.”

Tsu-chan’s tongue darts out to lick a few crumbs of chips from Shoto’s cheek, causing the boy to frown slightly, and she chews contemplatively on her own mochi before replying. “Well, she’s got my permission, kero. Once Izu-kun is back home at least. Oh, and she has to flirt with both of us, too, kero.”

Izuku’s entire brain screeches to a halt, and he turns slowly towards his girlfriend. “Pardon?”

Tsu-chan shrugs, nestling down into the pillows beneath her and waves dismissively. “I’m not saying any of us need to date her, kero, I’m just saying it’s nice that she’s interested. I’m not exactly the jealous type, but that’s the deal: anyone who wants one of us has to woo all of us, kero.”

“Tsu!” Ochako-chan snaps, “how could ya say somethin’ like that so casually?”

“Was she pretty, Ochako-chan?”

Ochako-chan sputters and blushes. “That’s besides the point!”

“It absolutely is not, kero,” Tsu-chan retorts smugly. “Now answer the question, you bisexual disaster: do you or do you not think Hatsume Mei is pretty?”

Face turning an even more adorable shade of red, Ochako-chan nods, mumbling quietly, “she was super pretty.”

“Thought so. Izu-kun, what about you?”

Hm, that’s a good question. “Is she pretty? I don’t really know, honestly. She was all greased up and sweaty; that might be Ochako-chan’s type but honestly her looks aren’t what caught my eye.” The brunette swats his shoulder and he laughs. “She’s smart though. Not to sound like a disaster myself but she’s brilliant; I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me in terms of material sciences. I’d go so far as to say she’s smarter than I am when it comes to support gear and Hero outfit design.”

“I rest my case, kero.” The frog girl waits patiently for Shoto to finish his snack before grabbing him and pulling him under the blanket with her, causing him to let out a long-suffering sigh and begin radiating heat without needing to be asked. “Thank you, kero. Listen, Izu-kun, Ochako-chan, there’s plenty of love to go around in this relationship, kero, and that’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to find other people attractive, you can flirt and be flirted with, you can even go on dates if that’s what you’re after! All I ask for is communication about it, and for all three of us to be included, kero. Especially if it might turn more serious, like Hatsume.”

More serious. Well, Hatsume had been after something more serious for sure, but is that what Izuku wants for himself? Is now even an appropriate time to be thinking about it, since he’s about to leave on a trip to the other side of the world and track down a god? Or should he be spending more time thinking about the girlfriends he already has, and Kirishima and Shoto too? He should definitely be polishing off his study guide for the 1-A class project so they can complete while he’s gone, as well as asking Aizawa about make-up quizzes and work he can do on his trip. He shouldn’t be gone that long, but the fact remains that he’ll be missing classes. And therapy. And Bakugo’s return to the school. And date nights! He hopes he can at least video call for date nights, even if he’ll be spending whole entire days with absolutely no hugs! Truly the most tragic part of this sojourn into the Americas. He knows Toshi would get a laugh out of that. And so would his mom, to whom he had dropped a series of very (un)subtle hints about using this time to reconnect with her old friends. Maybe he should pay a visit to Kayama-sensei before he leaves? Well yes, he has to do that anyway because Aizawa isn’t going to go around collecting work from his other classes for him; but should he use that as an opportunity? Does it count as playing wingman for his mom? Is that weird? He feels like that’s weird. But honestly despite everything, he feels like the two of them deserve it. Nothing weird about helping them be happy, right?

“Do you think he even notices he’s muttering?”

“Nah, he’s got no idea. Look, he’s still going! Midobro, you’re doing the thing again.”

Crap.

Izuku’s head snaps up and he pulls his thumb away from where he’d been worrying at the nail with his teeth, blushing slightly. “Sorry! I’m just stressed; this is a lot.”

Shoto perks slightly, shifting himself and Tsu-chan up, which causes Izuku’s adrenaline to spike. Anything that can get the other boy excited about something is usually bad for his health. “Commander Uraraka, Second Lieutenant Kirishima, begin stress protocols.” Oh no.

Before he has a chance to make an escape, Izuku finds himself being tackled from behind by his excitable girlfriend, pinned beneath her and unable to flee from the maniacally cackling Kirishima, who swaddles the pair of them tightly in a blanket, tucking and folding it in such a way that it leaves them well and truly trapped, unable to move a limb. This bundle is then flipped, lifted into a sitting position, and tucked against Shoto’s other side, with Izuku effectively tied to Ochako-chan’s lap. Tsu-chan clears her throat and begins singing a soothing frog-song, while Shoto begins scritching gently at the greenet’s scalp and preparing to braid his messy hair. Kirishima, meanwhile, fetches the big guns: a box of Meltykiss chocolates, which he begins hand-feeding his friend with a giant, toothy grin. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop spiralling!”

“Get loved on, bitch. Get absolutely cherished, kero.”

Izuku can’t help but laugh, sinking back into Ochako-chan’s embrace. He still isn’t used to this kind of affection and support, but he can’t say he minds it. He’s going to miss these four goofballs.

“You’re coming back to us in one piece,” Shoto grumbles in his usual deadpan. “That isn’t a question, or even an instruction, by the way. It’s just what’s going to happen. You’ll go, you’ll find this Cardamom Lord, and you’ll come back.”

“Cardinal Lord, Shoto.”

“I said what I said.”

They spend a little while longer like this, just basking in one another’s friendship, camaraderie, and love, before finally heading back out to the dorm proper for dinner. There, the five are greeted eagerly by the rest of the class - and a little less eagerly but still warmly by Aizawa - as everyone sits down to their meal, courtesy of Lunch Rush. It’ll be the last they share as a class for a bit, since Izuku will be leaving before breakfast, and being a gaggle of teenagers they make it as rowdy and cheerful as possible. Izuku gets corralled into providing the class with a movie from his pre-Quirk Disney collection, though Aizawa makes it sharply clear that there is to be no impromptu karaoke this time. There still will be, of course, and their teacher will ignore it like he always does. It’s a wonderful sendoff, and Izuku can’t wait to celebrate coming home, too.

Chapter Text

Izuku isn’t really sure just what it is he’s looking at as he disembarks from the plane. He’d been told that his contact in Canada, provided through the Collective, had an unusual mutation-type Quirk, but this? He’s not prepared for this at all. She’s got a long neck, very fluffy feathers, and clawed fingers which she has folded over one another in a polite pose, likely to keep anyone with a less keen eye from noticing how much they look like raptor talons. As do her feet, for that matter; those toeless sandals she’s wearing are a fascinating design, did she make them herself? He’ll have to ask later. As she moves closer and drops into a practically reverent bow, he can’t help but notice she’s been hunched over this whole time because of how tall she is alongside her feathery bulk; at least two good feet on him, maybe more.

“Finder Midoriya, it’s an honour! My name is Tanchou Zuru, your liaison from the Matsumoto main office. I am a second-level Understudy, here in Thunder Bay to learn stories from the Ojibweg of Animkii Wajiw.” Her pronunciation of the names is slightly clipped, but he supposes that could be because of the shape of her mouth; it’s impressive nevertheless. “They have a branch office of their own, of course, but they’re all very busy right now, so I was appointed to guide you to your destination.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well, Understudy Tanchou,” Izuku replies with a respectful bow of his own, keenly aware of their difference in rank within the organization. The Musutafu branch office puts significantly less stock in it than most, but he doesn’t want to be offensive. “We can move past the formalities if you’d like; let’s speak as friends and comrades.”

It’s cute how the feathers on her neck poof out a little as she rises from her bow, though she remains slightly hunched. “I’d like that, thank you. So, you’re here for the rumours of the Lord of the West, right? I can’t promise that he’ll be found on Mount McKay for sure, but oral histories in the area do mention a ‘man of many gifts’ passing this way in the right timeframe.”

Izuku nods, hefting his rucksack with a light sigh as he and Tanchou-san walk from the tarmac, through the small terminal, and out into the parking lot. “I’ve heard that a lot these last few days. I’ve had six stops before this, all to no avail; every time I reach the place he was seen, I find that he passed through and kept on going.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how do you know the difference?”

He gets that same question each time too. “I can’t tell you the specifics, but my Quirk lets me feel it.” He can’t very well say that that’s because powerful Quirks like One for All and those held by the Cardinal Lords will resonate with one another if they’re close enough together. “So if I reach a spot where he used to be, I can kind of sense if he’s been there recently or a long time ago.”

“Oh, that’s interesting!” The raptor-like girl fluffs up even more, talon-fingers clacking together. “I remember reading something about resonance theory back home; one of the Researchers did a dissertation on it as a companion to Quirk Singularity theory. I wonder if there’s a way to measure what you’re sensing, in order to study it as some sort of proof? Anecdotes are one thing but solid data is where the real science is.”

The two continue to chatter amicably as they stroll through town, stopping only long enough for Izuku to check in at a local motel and drop his rucksack off, swapping it out for a smaller day bag with hiking supplies and his better shoes. Afterwards, they continue walking out of the more urban area towards the woods surrounding the mountain, taking up conversation again on various Quirk theories, topics of Quirk-related scientific studies, and a few of the stories Tanchou had been sent to gather. It’s a nice change of pace, being able to discuss such esoteric topics with someone who not only understands them, but has made a study of them herself; apparently her work with the Collective was mostly being done to pay for tuition at a private school that would get her into one of the top Quirk research institutes of Japan. Soon enough, or perhaps too soon with all the fun conversation, the two reach the base of the mountain - though as a Shizuoka native, calling this a mountain in the face of Fuji is a bit of a stretch - and Tanchou raises an arm towards the cliffsides.

“See those caves up there on the ledge? That’s where the ‘man of many gifts’ is supposed to have gone after paying his respects to the elders. Now, the oral histories don’t say anything about what happened after he came back down from the mountain, but that’s not unusual. And hey who knows, maybe there really is a secret god up there! Good luck.”

“Are you not coming?”

Tanchou shakes her head, feathers rustling. “Nope. Sorry, I can’t really say why; I just know I’m not supposed to.”

Huh. That’s… Weird. But Izuku has seen weirder on his journey across the Americas, so he shrugs it off and prepares for the trek. It’s not a long one by any means, maybe an hour, but it’s steep, and that makes it tough. It’s also a switchback, meaning he has to walk back and forth as he climbs. But as he gets higher, closer to the ledge, One for All begins to hum in a way that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. This is a much stronger reaction than any he’s felt so far! Maybe this is it, and the Lord of the West really is in one of the caves at the end of the trail. That would make every moment worth it, because he’s unshakably certain that this mysterious being from the Age of Gods is the answer to his prayers. He keeps walking, keeps pushing, drawing in deep breaths as his Quirk buzzes louder and louder, eventually drowning out even the sound of his own breath.

And then he’s there, and it stops.

One for All falling silent is the most eerie thing Izuku has experienced in his life, and as he peers into the depths of the cave, he knows why instinctively: just beyond the threshold is something strong, stronger than his own Quirk by an order of magnitude so large as to be incomprehensible. This is the final domain of the Lord of the West for sure; every fiber of his being is telling him so. He draws a deep breath, steadies himself, and takes the first step towards what he can only think of as his destiny.

“Wait for me, Toshi. I’ll be home soon.”

Chapter Text

“Ah, there you are.”

The voice that greets Izuku has a quality he can’t quite put his finger on, part echo and part melody. It’s like a choir speaking as if they were a single person, and it makes him a little dizzy. He slowly takes stock of his surroundings, which are decidedly not a dank, dark cave in the Canadian woodlands. He can feel the distinctive soft give and tiny ridges of tatami under his feet, because his shoes have disappeared, and smell the light scent of high-quality matcha. In the middle of the room, which he can tell is four and a half mats, sits a dark wooden zataku-style table with two square cushions, one of which has a kasuri weave making a pattern of sakura petals floating in the wind. He can’t tell what the pattern on the other is, because seated upon it is a person who hurts just a little to look at. They seem to notice him flinching, and immediately something about them shifts, letting Izuku see them clearly. They’re rather short, only a scant few inches taller than Izuku himself, but the way they hold themselves speaks of strength that belies their lithe body. They are also, despite the surroundings, decidedly not Japanese. Their skin is the pale pinkish-white of a westerner of European descent, with strawberry blond hair and deep brown eyes. They gesture for Izuku to sit, and he does.

“Sorry for earlier,” the Lord of the West intones in a much more human manner, “it has been a very long time since I’ve had a proper guest. Nothing but supplicants in thirty years, and those expect a certain air of godliness. Here, drink up.”

Izuku lifts the proffered teacup, a beautiful thing of fine black Seto-Guro stoneware that has had several breaks repaired with gold in the hibi style. He lifts it to his lips and takes a small, slow sip. The flavour that washes over his tongue is bright, green, and ever so lightly sweet.

“Do you like it? I picked it up from-” He cuts off suddenly, waving a hand. “Whoops, I almost used his name. You’re definitely not ready for that yet. The Lord of the East, as he came to be called. Tragic that he’s passed, but I can’t say I’ll miss him all that much after what happened. You can call me West, by the by; that’s easiest.”

“West-okami,” Izuku mumbles, bowing deeply over his tea. “You honour me with this meeting. The tea is delicious; and I assure you that I’m not saying so just to get in your good graces.”

The god smiles as Izuku lifts his head, joining him in taking another sip of the tea. “Good, good. So! You are here to ask a boon, yes? And you know how these deals work?”

Izuku nods. “The legends say that you’ll answer any one question, offer any one solution to a problem, in exchange for something from the asker. What that thing is is determined by the one who asks: you never set a price, you simply hear an offer. If I may have my chance?”

West tucks a stray lock of his neck-length hair behind his ear. “Yes. What is it that you offer to me, youngling?”

This is it. Izuku has spent hours, days of his journey going over old stories of those who had made deals with the Lord of the West in the past, trying to find the perfect thing. And he’d landed upon something that is so bold and arrogant that it just might work. “West-okami, Cardinal Lord of the Age of Gods, to you I offer something that only a god could take: my gratitude for answering my question, regardless of what that answer is.”

West freezes, and the whole room ripples with the volume of the laugh that comes from his mouth. The god cackles, wheezing and snorting loudly, slapping his thigh with his palm several times before he can calm enough to choke out an answer. “You cheeky little fucker! Gah! The audacity of offering your gratitude for answering a question that you’ve yet to even ask! Oh, I like you, Midoriya, I like you very much. East was right to choose you. Very well!” He straightens, a broad grin splitting his face. “I accept your gratitude, youngling; ask!”

Izuku smiles, screeching internally as his nerves twang but manage not to snap under the stress. “Do you have something that I could use to heal my mentor and friend, Yagi Toshinori, the Hero All Might, Symbol of Peace? He lies dying, and I desire to save his life.”

West nods, gesturing with one hand to the small puzzle box that sits by Izuku’s teacup. Somehow, it feels like it has been there since he’d sat down, even though he could swear he hadn’t noticed it. “There, your treatment. Well, sort of - you’ll need to unlock that box first. I can’t tell you how, but since you’re such a cheeky little shit, I can tell you why. Tell me, Midoriya, do you know why I am the Lord of the West, a god from an era long past?”

Izuku frowns, tucking the puzzle box into his bag to look at later. “Your Quirk. I’m not sure what it is, exactly, but you and the other Cardinal Lords have incredibly powerful Quirks. You’re not divine in the sense that most of the Shinto kami are, for instance; you’re a very powerful mortal who came to be worshipped.”

“Incorrect!” The word is spoken with that same reverberation, and West is briefly back to being hard to look at. “My Quirk didn’t make me a god, as powerful as it is. Rather, it helped unlock my potential: I was always able to be a god, but I needed that little bit of extra strength. Pantheon, it’s called. The specifics aren’t important right now, but in a nutshell it lets me affect causality in such a way that I always have exactly what I need. However, I am indeed divine. Behold.”

This last word is akin to a deep whisper, but somehow even more melodic. West waves a hand over the chaire, which begins to shake. Slowly, the powdered matcha coalesces together, then suddenly bursts into leaves before Izuku’s eyes. The tea leaves begin to sprout tendrils from their bases, and within moments there is a whole bush growing from the ceramic jar, glistening in the light. An energy ripples through the air, the same energy that Izuku has been tracking through six holy sites, and One for All pulses wildly in response, green lightning crackling from his skin. There’s no doubt in his mind that the Lord of the West is a god, a kami in the truest sense of the word; something beyond mortals, beyond Quirks themselves, ascended from humanity. And there’s only one thing going through his mind.

“Why are you hiding here?”

The god seems to deflate at that, a melancholy look crossing his face. “I lost that battle, at the end of what you call the Age of Gods. I made my way here, slowly but surely, and when I settled in, well. South came, and we argued. Long, loud, painful. At the end of it all, this place was cursed, an insidious curse that affects even me: anyone who leaves this cave can never enter it again. And if I can’t come back, then I have to leave behind… Well, don’t you worry about what I keep here; just know that it can’t be moved. And so, when you leave, you too will never be able to return.” He lets out the heaviest sigh Izuku has ever heard, then straightens again. “Now, where was I? The puzzle box, that’s right. That box will open precisely when it needs to, and not a moment before, because you, youngling? You’ve got the spark.”

The. The what?

“Oh, there’s that little mortal look of befuddlement! Not so high and mighty now, are you little ‘gratitude for your answer’?” West waves a hand at the tea bush, nodding sagely. “The spark. The divine spark. You, Midoriya, have the same thing that I and the other Cardinal Lords had: you can ascend to godhood some day. You even have the Quirk for it.”

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Izuku stammers, “are you telling me that One for All can make me a god?! An actual, genuine kami with powers that surpass Quirks?!”

“Ah, sort of?” West’s smile takes on a distinct shit-eating quality that Izuku definitely doesn’t like. “It’s not really that All for One gives you the power, or even that it directly unlocked your potential, like Pantheon did for me. Rather, it altered your DNA in such a way that it awakened the latent Quirk hidden in your blood, and that is what in turn awakened your divine spark.”

Izuku’s brain tries to process this, fails, and decides to check out for the day, leaving him to babble incoherently. He pauses, takes a few breaths - ragged though they may be - and tries again. “Altered my DNA?”

“That’s right,” West confirms, plucking one of the tea leaves from the bush and popping it in his mouth to chew. Weird. “You were Quirkless before you got One for All, but Quirklessness doesn’t work the way you think. See, Quirks are a mutation, but they’re not recessive. Quite the opposite, in fact: Quirks are a dominant trait that always passes down, but there’s a secondary mutation, one that expresses as an extra joint in the toe. This mutation suppresses the mutation that expresses as a Quirk, which is how you get Quirkless people - Quirklessness is a surface trait.

“Deep within your genetic code lies the potential for a Quirk, but normally this potential can’t express itself because of the other mutation. The exact mechanics of that are outside my specialty, but that’s the gist of it. I once heard North’s subordinate say it’s similar to those Blaschko’s lines; go ahead and research them when you get home. Anyways, what happened to you, youngling, was very simple: inheriting One for All broke that genetic sequence and allowed your inherent Quirk to express itself properly. And that’s why your spark ignited, letting you have the potential to become a god.”

This. This is going to take a lot of time to process, far more time than Izuku can take right now, so instead he shifts the conversation a little. “Okay, let’s pretend for a second that that’s all fine. I can have a meltdown later. What, the pray tell fuck, has this got to do with the puzzle box?”

West laughs again, quieter this time but still energetically. “Where’s your sense of fantasy, Midoriya! I thought it would be obvious. The puzzle box is tied intrinsically to your divinity; it’ll open when the time comes for you to fully unlock your spark and take the first real step on the path to godhood! You’re going to perform a miracle, Midoriya. Can’t say what, can’t say when, but I’ll give you this: the ones you wish to protect the most will not perish before that happens. All Might won’t die until you’re ready to save him from it; otherwise I wouldn’t have held up my end of the bargain.”

Fuck.

Izuku has never felt so much relief in his life, and he falls back, thumping against the springy tatami and burying his face in his hands. “And I have your word on that? As a god?”

“My word is my bond, and this I so swear: you and yours shall not feel the touch of Izanami before such time as that box opens and you perform your first miracle. This will not be forever; the event will take place one day. But until it does, there will be no death before you.”

Izuku sits up again, places his fists on his thighs, and bows deeply. “Thank you, West-okami, Cardinal Lord of the West. I am in your debt, as you gave me much more than I requested. Some day I will pay you back, even if I can never enter this cave again.”

The Lord of the West inclines his head respectfully. “I fully believe you’ll find a way to see me again, youngling. And when you do, all I ask in exchange is for you to make me a meal; food is sacred in ways few know, and fewer understand. Take your leave now, Midoriya, the outside world awaits.”

Pushing himself up slowly, Izuku bows again, and moves towards the sliding doors behind him. As he moves it aside, he finds himself standing at the mouth of the cave, facing the other way from when he’d entered. One for All buzzes lightly under his skin, and he knows that even if he were to turn around, he could never enter the cave again. Filled with knowledge, filled with questions, and carrying the puzzle box that is meant to save Toshi, he turns to walk down the trail. As he gets about half way, something other than his Quirk buzzes: his phone, secured in the pocket of his day bag. He’d forgotten all about it. Unzipping the pocket, he pulls it out and swipes it as soon as he sees Ochako’s number.

“Hey! What’s up, it’s not date night until tomorrow isn’t it?”

“Izu-kun! Thank every kami ya picked up! Ya gotta get home, ya gotta get home right now!”

“What? Ochako-chan, calm down, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Iida. He’s…” The girl on the other end of the line chokes, and Izuku can feel his own throat closing in panic. “He got hurt. He’s hurt real bad, Izu-kun. The doctors don’t know if he’s gonna make it. Please, please come home, Izu-kun!”

Chapter Text

The metallic tang of blood is to most an acrid stench, but to the man known as Stain, it’s the delicious scent of a job well done. The pathetic heap of trash masquerading as a Hero calling itself Native had been easy pickings, but something about the boy, Ingenium’s younger brother, had been different. For the first time in far too long, Stain had found himself in a real, honest fight for his life against the child, because for whatever reason, his Quirk had failed to activate correctly. It’s something he’ll need to investigate. Still, Iida Tenya had eventually gone down, his bloody corpse decorating the alleyway alongside his true target. Or, no, not a corpse just yet it seems, because he’s lifting his head to glare at Stain, trying to croak out what’s probably more threats to kill him around the blood dripping from his mouth. Oh well; he can at least honour the boy’s tenacity by giving him a quick death. Stumbling slightly, he lurches towards the mouth of the alley to grab his katana from where it had landed after a particularly fearsome kick, hefting it slightly and turning back.

“You will halt.”

A voice at the mouth of the alley. Another pretender come to stop him? No, it’s too calm. He spins suddenly, swinging the blade in a rapid diagonal chop, and hits… Nothing. Where did they go? There! He lashes out with a foot in a feint, bringing his katana around in a sideways jab but still finding nothing but air. Growling in frustration, he launches a flurry of attacks towards each place he feels the opposing presence appear, but each and every one somehow misses. And then they’re before him, holding the sword he hadn’t even noticed them take from his hand. “Who are you?!”

The noise that comes from under their hooded cloak can’t truly be described as laughter, but it carries a hint of amusement nonetheless. “Have you forgotten me so soon, Stendhal? Well, no matter. What’s important is that the Lord of the North has decreed this child must not die here. So, die here he shall not. Stand aside.”

Lord of the North? Impossible! But no, the ‘face’ of his foe peers out from under their hood, three empty, black holes like a kodama tilted quizzically to one side, staring at him as if he were a fascinating insect. This is the woman with stars in her eyes, first disciple of a Cardinal Lord. He bristles, snatching his katana back and shoving it into its holster, growling. “The Lord of the North has no business here in the East!”

“That is where you are wrong, Stendhal.” Her tone is one of a parent chiding their child, and it pisses him off. “The Lord of the East is dead. So, North and South now vye to be the one to appoint another. And West, perhaps, but nobody has seen him in decades.”

A Cardinal Lord, dead?! The world itself is going to tremble like it hasn’t in a century, then, and the woman with stars in her eyes is going to be at the heart of it, no doubt. But he won’t bend the knee so easily. “Even if your master ordered it, I am neither his disciple nor his subject. The boy is my prey, so back off!”

He reaches out to grab the woman, but finds that she’s already behind him without having moved an inch. Damn her and her Paladin magic! He watches as she stoops over Iida Tenya’s body, a faint orange light emanating from her hands as she moves them over him. “There, that will do the trick for now. You may wish to lie low for a while, Stendhal; things are about to get very interesting. Do not forget what you owe me, and by extension my master.”

And then she’s gone. Bitch. He can tell that whatever she did to the child has stopped his life from fading away, but as the wail of sirens grows closer, he knows better than to stick around. He hates the need to run away with a job half-finished, but on the bright side, this makes one more survivor to spread the word of Stain, the philosophy and the warning of his intent to cleanse the world of pretenders to the title of Hero.

Chapter Text

The hospital in Hosu is no different from any other that Izuku has found himself in over the years, be it for seeing his mother after a shift or for any of his own numerous injuries. Sterile white halls, too-bright lights, the distinct scent of disinfectants and other strong cleaning agents that usually manages to drown out the acrid stench of blood, it’s the same all over. It would be comforting in its repetitiveness if it weren’t so unpleasant in its essence. The person he’s rushed to see (for a given meaning of rushed; the return trip had eaten up two days) has a private room in the Hero wing, which at least looks a little more inviting as he enters through the guest reception and security area. The walls have tastefully selected pieces of art by local artists - all for sale, with portions of the proceeds going towards various charities or the hospital itself - and even more tasteful artificial flower arrangements. Can’t risk any sort of allergic reaction, after all. As he reaches the door he’s after, one towards the end of the hall, he hears the dulcet tones of someone absolutely furious with his friend, which brings a smile to his face.

“-ALL THE IRRESPONSIBLE, HARE-BRAINED, HALF-COCKED, MORONIC SHIT! IF YOU EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN I WILL BREAK YOU INTO SO MANY PIECES PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU HAVE MY QUIRK!”

There’s a pause for a quieter response. “DON’T YOU ‘NOW DARLING’ ME YOU ASSHOLE! YOU ALMOST DIED, TENYA! YOU MADE YOUR FATHER CRY! YOU MADE YOUR MOTHER CRY! SHE ALMOST LOST BOTH OF HER SONS! AND ANOTHER THING-!”

Figuring he should probably step in and save his poor friend from the wrath he faces - though he finds himself agreeing with the general sentiment - Izuku knocks twice on the door and pushes it open, stepping inside swiftly and nodding to the other greenette in the room with a huge grin on his face. “Tokage-san, sorry to interrupt you when you’ve got a good roll going.”

“Oh, Midoirya, hey.” Tokage Setsuna’s posture relaxes immediately as she comes down from the adrenaline high she’d been on, voice a little cracked from her shouting. “Sorry you had to hear that, but someone’s got to yell at this bozo. How was your trip?”

“Eventful,” Izuku replies smoothly, telling the truth to the 1-B student without revealing any sort of details she doesn’t need to know. She may be Iida’s girlfriend (shocker of shockers if you ask him), but she’s not been read in to any meaningful degree and believes he’d travelled as part of a consultation with medical experts about All Might’s condition. That much going public had been unavoidable, and he’s glad he’s gotten ahead of it. “Where’s your better half? And not the one in bed, clearly.”

Iida looks mildly offended at that, but Tokage lets out an amused huff. “Back home, taking a nap after bawling her eyes out. Kinoko was really relieved that Tenya’s surgery went so well, but she was in no shape to travel, poor thing. I should get home to her. Look after this fool, yeah? He may be a dumbass, but he’s my dumbass.”

Pausing to kiss her boyfriend chastely on the cheek, Togake exits the hospital room, one hand trailing behind her that ruffles Izuku’s hair on its way out. It’s always a little funny when she does that; for whatever reason, she’s never actually stood near him when patting his head or playing with his hair - almost like she’s embarrassed to show affection to someone that isn’t Iida or Kinoko. Speaking of affection, Izuku skips over to Iida’s bed, grabs the hand that’s not hooked up to any IVs or monitors, and rubs his face against the back of it like a cat. He can’t hug the other boy, so he’ll have to settle for this. Iida’s hand is warm and soft, which calms his anxiety a little. He’d feared coming back to a cold corpse even after West’s oath and Ochako’s billion texts reassuring him that his friend had gone through surgery successfully and was recovering well despite his injuries. The two stay like this a moment more before Izuku speaks. “She’s right you know, you really are a dumbass. I cannot believe you went on a mission of vengeance! Without me! You jerk.”

Iida manages a quiet laugh, rubbing along Izuku’s cheek and up into his hair when he ducks down into it. “I am truly sorry, Izuku! I lost sight of what it means to be a Hero, blinded as I was by the rage of what happened to Tensei-nii. I was shown the error of my ways quite handily. Nothing makes it clearer that I remain a mere student of Heroics than getting my backside handed to me by a villain - though I will say I gave him what for! It was odd, really; his Quirk, something related to ingesting blood based on his eating of mine, failed to work for some reason. Even so, it was the most difficult fight I have ever faced. Stain was not able to kill all those Heroes and wound my brother by mere chance.”

Quirks not working correctly is practically unheard of, except for Quirk negation tools and abilities like suppressor cuffs or Erase. This makes two times in recent memory: once with Sir Nighteye, and now this. Once is an incident, twice is coincidence, but if a third shows up, that would be a pattern. Is something going on on a broader level? Maybe it has something to do with the other Cardinal Lords; that would only make sense given that one is apparently dead now - he can’t imagine the sudden loss of a god wouldn’t have some sort of wider consequences on the world. Is this a sign of something to come? Is it related to his own apparent godhood in some way? No, nothing should happen with that until he figures out the puzzle box; or at least that was the implication, did he misunderstand somehow?

“Izuku, you are muttering! And what’s this about godhood and a puzzle box?”

Ah! Shit. He hadn’t intended to bring all that up just yet. But, it’s not like Iida was going to be kept out of the loop anyway. He reaches into his bag and takes out the puzzle box. It’s a small thing, made of some metal he doesn’t recognize with a dark, coal-fired patina. There are several different things to solve, one on each side, ranging from a small maze that doesn't have a peg to a series of buttons that won’t depress. It’s evident that there’s something he needs to do to make the thing function before he can solve it, but he hasn’t been able to figure that out yet. Iida turns it slowly around in his own hands as Izuku explains the meeting with West and subsequent revelations about his own alleged nascent godhood, waiting until he finishes for any questions he may have. Which isn’t many, as it turns out.

“Do you think this is why there have been so many strange coincidences in your life? Maybe that is what your supposed Quirk was meant to be!”

“Maybe!” Izuku chuckles, humming quietly as Iida returns to toying with his hair. “It would sure explain how I always seem to be in the right place at the right time to make a connection that’ll be meaningful later. What a weird Quirk though! I guess the best way to figure it all out is to do some Quirk studies on myself, see what I can come up with. Want to help? It’ll give you something to do while you’re stuck in here.”

Iida nods eagerly, pausing to adjust his glasses. “Of course Izuku! I am always more than happy to help a friend. Though to hear the doctors say it, I will not be cooped up in this ward for long! From what I have heard, my recovery is going remarkably well, and soon enough I will be able to convalesce at the dorms rather than needing constant monitoring! They say I will even be able to return to the majority of my classes not long after; though I will be strictly prohibited from any sort of practical Heroics or standard exercise and training. Instead, once I am deemed fit, I will be partaking in a special rehabilitation regimen set out by Recovery Girl-sensei herself! In a few months, I may even be fit enough to resume my usual isometric exercises! I must say that I am very excited to get started! Hospitals have never agreed with me.”

Izuku smiles broadly and nuzzles even harder into the boy’s hand. “That’s great! And I’m sorry again about not being able to have Iyasareru-dono heal you like he did me; he’s been out of contact with the Collective ever since he checked into his hotel in Singapore. Not unusual for a contractor like him though. Speaking of the Collective, maybe once you’re better we could go and see the Musutafu branch office together! With Ochako-chan and Tsu-chan and Shoto of course; and maybe even Tokage-san and Kinoko-san if they’re interested. It would be great to get to know them better. I still can’t believe you landed a relationship with girls like them, you dork!”

“Midoriya Izuku, I am offended!” Iida’s smile belies his amusement. “I will have you know that I did not land a single thing! Setsuna’s parents and my own introduced us; the Tokage family is nearly as old and respectable as the Iida clan, and her parents are traditionalists when it comes to marriage. Well, for the most part; they’re modern enough to approve of Setsuna and Kinoko’s relationship, even if they don’t understand it. I count myself incredibly lucky that Setsuna likes me as much as she does sweet Kinoko! And learning more about your relationship with Ochako and Tsuyu has helped me better understand theirs! I thought it quite unusual at first that Kinoko would not be interested in a relationship with myself and Setsuna both, but Tsuyu was very helpful in explaining various types of polyamory to me. I am quite content to remain metamours, though obviously I would not object were she to change her mind in the future!”

“Well, I don’t think Kinoko-san is gay, so you’ve got a shot,” Izuku teases, “she’s a bit more like Tsu-chan than anything: it’s the person that matters.”

The duo continue to chat inanely until towards the end of visiting hours, when Ochako and Tsuyu drop by to pick Izuku up and bring Iida a get well soon card signed by all of 1-A, which makes the boy tear up. The three say their goodbyes and head back to the dorms, conversing about this and that on their way and holding hands together, Tsuyu in the middle. If the doctors are right, it won’t be long now until they’ll be able to walk out of the hospital with Iida in tow as well, and have things return to a semblance of normal. When they return, Shoto eagerly informs Izuku in his excited deadpan that it’s his turn to make dinner for the class, a weekly rotating cycle. That means vegetable curry don! And with Bakugo back in action, he’ll have much more competent help, too. He loves his girlfriends, but learning the recipe properly is a matter of years, not weeks of practice. And he fully intends to spend those years with them, and with everyone else in his class who cares to learn. Because for all it’s a family recipe, he considers them all his family, now and forever.

Chapter Text

To an outsider, the Support Course workshop smells like a vague blend of oil, grease, and metal, with no way to differentiate between them, and indeed no thought that there may be a difference. Not to its number one mechanic and tinkerer, though! Hatsume Mei, self-styled founder and chief scientist of Hatsume Industries (not that there are any other scientists for her to be chief over just yet), can tell each of them apart effortlessly, be it by scent, texture, colour, or in several unfortunate cases, taste. There’s a reason she only eats jelly pouches in the workshop anymore. For instance, the one in her hands is a small applicator tube of graphite powder lubricant with a molybdenum disulfide additive that smells very faintly of rotting eggs. It’s a scent she doesn’t like, not because of the smell itself, but because of the desperation it represents - it’s not a normal lubricant to apply to her babies, and is almost entirely used when absolutely nothing else has been able to help get a seized part that she can’t put a blowtorch to unstuck. In this case, it’s the bearing at the base of the hinge on Mochi’s helmet visor, which had apparently taken a heavy kick from Eraserhead during Class 1-A’s final exams that day. She’d made a deal to swap over some of the other students’ Hero outfits into the care of her classmates in order to work on Mochi, Froggy, and Greenie’s outfits, as a gesture of respect for their budding relationship together. Permission to flirt with Greenie had come with the caveat that she would have to express interest in the whole of the trio, which she has absolutely no problem doing! Greenie’s the best for making new babies by far, but Froggy has a sharp wit and the kind of tsukkomi-style humour Mei adores, and Mochi is just unbearably adorable. Especially her Iga-ben!

It’s been an interesting couple of months getting to know the three, the ins and outs of their relationships with one another and their various interests. And it’s been a huge boost to her communication skills! Her mother had always told her that learning to communicate was a key skill both inside and outside of the career she’s pursuing as an inventor and purveyor of support items, but she hadn’t really internalized it until starting her pursuit of Greenie and his girlfriends. And speaking of communication, it’s time for her daily special! She mutes the timer on her phone and pulls her gloves off to handle it better. She can still hear Sensei’s shouting in her ears from the other month.

‘If I ever catch you fooling around in here again, I will ban you from the workshop outside of class hours, so help me!’

What a prude. It’s not like she’d been caught having sex or anything! She’d just wanted to help Greenie relax a little after a long day of training, one thing had lead to another, she’d pinned the smaller boy to her work bench and tied him down with some spare electrical wire, and maaaaybe her hands had been somewhere in the vague vicinity of his underwear when Sensei had come back from his break, but he was seriously over-reacting with a threat like that! How is Mei supposed to make any babies at all if she’s not allowed to use the workshop after class! So she’d devised the perfect solution: right when Sensei was scheduled to go on his break, she would get her daily special ready! The special being perfectly, flawlessly, geniusly tailored selfies of the raunchy and lewd variety. She lifts her shirt, tucking the hem into her teeth, and snaps the first picture. This one will go to Mochi, who she’s learned has an appreciation of her body when it’s all sweaty and dirty from her work. Next, she angles the phone camera down a bit so that the bottoms of her breasts are just barely in the frame, with the main focus being her abs, and just a hint of the top of her bikini line. This one’s for the tummy-loving Froggy. Finally, she grabs a towel and a few skin-safe degreaser pads to wipe herself down, tucking one lock of pink hair behind her ear and smiling invitingly around the hem of her shirt. Greenie loves when she’s a bit spruced up, and is very interested in her face, particularly her eyes. He’s also about to leave on patrol, so this will make a nice gift to take with him.

She gets a text back from Froggy first, a thumbs up emoji next to a frog one, which Mei has come to understand means the girl is trying really hard not to tent her skirt and unwilling to admit to any such thing. Moments later she gets a video clip from Mochi, which, rather than a naughty subject of her own, contains something even better: a furiously-blushing Greenie tripping over nothing on his way out the door of Mochi’s room. She cackles and sends a follow-up text to Greenie, reminding him to stay safe while he’s on the streets, and to watch where he’s walking. His only reply is a keysmash, which makes her cackle again. It feels good to have friends she can tease like this. She hadn’t realized until meeting Greenie and Mochi for the first time just how lonely she had been up to that point, but now? Now she’s got not only the three of them, but Sprints, Rocky, Icyhot, and all the rest of 1-A too! She’s closer with some than others, closest with the three targets of her flirting and affection, but she considers each of them friends, which is super weird for her. Rocky in particular had been crazy hyped up about her nicknames, helping her go through the whole class and pick out ones that would make it easy for her to remember, rather than judging her for her inability to retain names. She’d actually been six before she’d properly learned her own.

It’s not perfect, of course; she wants to be an official member of the polycule, but they’re not quite ready for that just yet, still too new with one another. Mei knows she also has to contend with Greenie’s love for Toga Himiko. Mochi had been joking when she’d brought up the missing girl, but while Mei isn’t good at communicating with people, she is good at reading them. She can tell that Greenie really does have an obsession. Not in an unhealthy way so much as a deep, powerful longing for her. Mei can understand that. Probably a lot better than most. Greenie's eyes light up whenever he’s talking about Toga, but his body always carries a tension like an over-wound gearspring too. Like he’s holding himself back from looking over his shoulder at someone who isn’t there, but should be. She wants to find the right words to reassure him before she moves past flirting and occasionally joining them for movie nights.

Setting her phone and her shirt back down, Mei returns her attention to her work, finally getting that hinge bearing unstuck and the visor removed to be repaired, which will have to come later because next up is Greenie’s outfit. Or rather, the remains of Greenie’s outfit. With All Might out of commission, one might think UA would phone it in and set his pupil’s test to a more mental one than a physical, but no, that would be the sensible thing to do, and kami forbid anyone accuse the principal of being sensible! Greenie’s final exam was best described as an all-out brawl, facing off against Ectoplasm, Midnight, Cementoss, and Vlad freaking King all at once! Rather than capture or escape, Greenie’s exam had been about timed survival: hold out long enough for his fictional backup to arrive, and he’d pass. Supposedly because of the rapid growth in the power of his Quirk, this was considered the best way to handle it, but what nobody had thought of was the idea of actually telling him the parameters were different. No, Greenie had assumed his final exam was the same as everyone else’s, had pushed himself to his limit, and soundly trounced the entire quartet of teachers in a display of strength that quite frankly turned her on a lot. Less attractive was the state of his Hero outfit in the aftermath, with even her newest blend of reinforced fibers failing to stand up to the frankly ridiculous pressures he was now capable of exerting. Mei likes a challenge to be sure, but this? This is getting silly.

It’s time for the nuclear option.

With the help of one of the Management students, Mei has drafted a letter of requisition to Mighty Agency’s in-house design team for samples of the fabrics used in All Might’s own costumes, a closely-guarded secret that normally they wouldn’t even deign to glance at a request for. But with the big man himself still in intensive care, Greenie was the current executive of the whole shebang, and as his primary support provider at UA, that puts Mei in a pretty lofty position, with Greenie reluctant to exercise his own power over the Hero Agency. Mei has no such qualms, and had honestly considered marching down there herself on a day off to get what she needed directly. She’d been persuaded to play nice at first by her Management contact, but the door was very much still open to make an in-person request if they proved unwilling to cooperate. In the meantime, she’ll stick to working on design adaptations. To start, the armor in the tops of his shoes is going to replicated, since it seems to hold up pretty well, and turned into shin guards similar to the ones Sprints wears, designed to take the brunt of high-speed kicks while cushioning the blow enough to shatter neither the wearer’s femurs nor the target’s skull unless the latter is absolutely necessary. His gloves will be changed a little to give him a tighter grip for when he needs to grapple, something he’d noted as being a problem while attempting to subdue Midnight. They may also be altered to have some way to focus blasts of air he’s found himself capable of generating by flicking his fingers; Mei thinks it’s a little goofy, so they’ll sit down and workshop it when he’s got the time. He wants to ditch the goggles entirely, but she figures they’re better off as an additional tool added to one of his belt pouches rather than being integrated into the main costume the way his mask is. And as for the mask itself, it’ll be getting a newly upgraded filter better capable of blocking out concrete particles. She’s thrilled it had protected him completely from Midnight’s Somnambulist, but it had become clogged at the end of his fight with Cementoss.

She flicks through the copies of the notebooks Greenie had given to her, humming a nameless tune to herself as she takes notes of other things she can do to upgrade his outfit, from design to materials to additional tools he may find useful in the field. Many of those are also carried in the backpack he brings on patrol, since he’s not licensed to wear his proper Hero suit out just yet. Maybe she can convince the principal to let 1-A take the Provisional License Exams early? She’ll reach out to her Management liaison and discuss sending the idea to whoever needs to hear it. She picks up the next book from the stack, only to realize that it wasn’t one about Greenie at all, but rather the analysis of the rest of his classmates’ Quirks, freshly updated with his observations during the final exams. He must’ve left it in there by accident, or maybe with the intent to have her disseminate it to the rest of 1-H. She picks up her phone to ask him in a text, but almost drops it when she spots something, a series of mathematical formulas labelled ‘Hagakure Toru’ that gets the gears in her brain spinning at top speed. Thoughts of Greenie’s new costume leave her brain completely, and every other project currently taking up space on her workbench is unceremoniously shoved into a heap on the floor to be dealt with later. She quickly but carefully copies the tightly-scrawled numbers onto a larger piece of paper so they’re easier to reference as she works, grabbing a multitude of different materials and half-assembled gadgets, including her first working prototype of the field generator that allows the invisible girl’s outfit to disappear alongside her Quirk. Working fast, she tears apart everything else to extract their materials, muttering chemical formulas and equations to herself as she goes. If these numbers are correct, if Greenie has done his math right, she’s about to have a breakthrough the likes of which has never been seen! Or, that will be seen, because that’s the goal here. She offers up a prayer to whatever deity might be listening as she crams the new focus in place on the copy of her field generator. The old one is set on the table with the piece of fabric she’d created for Hagakure’s outfit draped on top, turning a large part of it invisible as expected. The new one, however, is suspended from her arm clamp before being switched on. It sputters, coughs, whirs to life, and… She can see the whole cloth.

Mei shrieks at the top of her lungs, half in victory and half in overwhelming anger that it had taken someone else’s ideas to figure it out, grabbing the device and running past her startled Sensei, who had returned from his break and come to check on her.

“Hatsume, where the hell are you going?!”

“No time, Sensei,” she calls back over her shoulder, tears streaming down her face. “I gotta get to the 1-A dorms! I’ll explain later! Don’t touch anything!”

Panting and heaving, she runs as if the fires of Amaterasu are racing after her, all the way to Heights Alliance, pausing only to smash her key card against the guest entrance doors while clutching the new gadget to her chest. She grabs the first person she sees, barely registering that it’s Eraserhead, and shouts “get me Hagakure Toru NOW! It’s an emergency!”

To his credit, the Pro Hero doesn’t even bother to question her, recognizing the girl as part of Izuku’s inner circle, and takes off at a sprint down the hall, returning a few minutes later with a floating school uniform in tow. “Sensei, what the hell is going on? Wait, Hatsume-san, is that you? What are you doing here?”

Rather than a verbal response, Mei takes the prototype field generator that she’d fashioned into a makeshift necklace with a bit of scrap wire, tosses it over where she guesstimates the invisible girl’s head should be, and flicks the switch to turn it on again. An instant later, the floating uniform is filled out by a girl with long, messy, iridescent blonde hair and striking eyes of blue with a yellow inner ring. Her form flickers, unstable, but it’s there, she can see it. She tilts her head quizzically at Mei and Eraser. “Huh? What’s wrong, why are you guys crying?”

“Hagakure…” Eraser’s breathing is shallow, his voice strained in a way neither girl has heard before. “Hagakure, you. I didn’t realize you could see yourself. Your hair looks very pretty.”

It takes a moment for her to process what she’s just heard, and when she does, her knees give out, only avoiding a nasty fall thanks to Eraserhead’s quick reaction to catch her and hold her up. She looks up into his eyes and sees, for the first time ever, that he’s meeting them dead on. She hiccups, coughs, and begins to scream, collapsing against her teacher as she wails, sobbing and babbling incoherently. This, Mei knows, is the mark of true success. Doing something so important, so meaningful to someone that they’re completely overwhelmed by their own feelings, solely to have done it and not out of any obligation or expecting any compensation. Greenie had been right about that. It really is the best feeling in the world. The rest of the students, drawn by their friend’s cries, come rushing to see what’s wrong, and most stop dead in their tracks when they see the strange girl clinging for dear life to their teacher and begin to put two and two together. Someone fetches Froggy and Mochi, who immediately call Greenie to come back early from his patrol - if anything is worth interrupting his mission to help Musutafu’s unfortunates, it’s this. Eventually, Hagakure cries herself out and is able to be coaxed back to the dorm proper, made comfortable in one of the many armchairs in the sitting room and wrapped in a blanket. She wipes her face indelicately on her sleeve and looks up at Mei with a smile wider and happier than the mechanic has ever seen.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I finally… I finally feel like a real person. Thank you, Mei.”

Mei returns the girl’s smile with one of her own. “That’s what we do in the Support Course, Hagakure-san. And this is just a prototype! I’m gonna get right back to work making the final version, something smaller and lighter, one that’ll work even better! You’ll see; and so will everyone else!”

A wave of laughter ripples across the whole class, and Mei feels like she could take on the world. Having friends really is the best thing ever.

Chapter Text

“-been losi██ out on a lot o█ █leep la██ly, kero. Can ██ just stay on ███ ███ with us un█il we get ██ere, se███i?”

“I kn██, Tsuyu, █ know; █e’s men████ed havin█ tro████d dreams - and if ██’s █elling me, it’s serious. ██ doesn’t have to wake up yet; can you just try and get h██ off the bus? I’ll ████ain every█████ in a bit, to the ██ole class.”

Far from being fully awake, yet still not entirely asleep, Izuku feels himself being gently and carefully lifted, instinctively snuggling his face deeper into whatever it’s resting against. He’ll take even a few more precious seconds of this in-between state, given how exhausted he’s been lately. With All Might still out of commission, there’s been an uptick in crime, and his patrols have gotten more demanding. Even with the advanced warning he’d been able to put out through the Collective and his connections to Japan’s underground, it was rough going all around, with Musutafu being better off than some places but still not as calm as it had once been. And on top of that, he’s been having recurring nightmares that interrupt what sleep he can get, to the point that Ochako and Tsu had eventually enlisted Iida to guilt-trip him into coming home earlier. So rude, even if he could see the necessity in it. What he hasn’t told them is that he’s made an executive decision, one that still rankles him to his very core: he’s going to switch from patrolling every night to only two or three times in a week. He hates to do it, especially now, but the fact is that he just can’t keep up with patrols, classes, and his relationships anymore, and he’s been told in no uncertain terms by numerous people he’d floated the idea to that if he sacrifices either of the latter in favour of the former, there will be hell to pay. When word had gotten to her that Izuku would be away on a school trip during the summer, Mama Nya had declared then and there that she was ending all street work and delivery health services for the foreseeable future, and would be using her considerable sway in the city to convince the small-timers to do the same. This, coupled with a directive from the mayor’s office to bring in more non-Agency Heroes from other areas to increase official patrols, will drastically reduce the amount of work he usually does anyway.

He hopes his girls like the surprise.

Stirring a little, Izuku is finally roused from his sleep when he feels hot breath tickle his skin and soft lips brush over his cheek, eyes fluttering open to meet Ochako’s. He stretches languidly in Tsu’s arms, turning his gaze to spot Aizawa chatting with… Two of the Wild, Wild Pussycats? Aw, he’d probably missed their introduction! Yawning, he feels Tsu plant a kiss on top of his unruly green curls, which he returns with one to the underside of her chin and one to Ochako’s proffered cheek.

“You know Izu-kun,” the brunette gigglesnorts, “when I suggested wanting to practice long-term use of my Quirk by making you weightless and having Tsu carry you around, I didn’t expect you to like it this much!”

“What can I say, s’nice to be held,” he mumbles back quietly, “mom did her best, but when you work full time evening shifts it can be hard. Tsu-chan’s arms are good for dreaming in.”

“What were you dreaming about, kero?”

“Toga,” Izuku lies smoothly, not wanting to worry his girls with his USJ nightmares again. “Principal Nedzu said he’s gotten some information about her for when I get back; Aizawa knows it too, but he says he’s keeping his mouth shut until after the training camp so I don’t lose focus. As if I’m not going to be worrying about what it might be instead! Honestly, it’s like he doesn’t even know me.” He turns to look at the man, fully intending to stick his tongue out at him, when it strikes him just which of the Pussycats he’s talking to. That’s Pixie-Bob. And this is a cliffside. And Aizawa had been oddly insistent about getting everyone but Iida off the bus. Son of a bitch.

“What’s wrong, Izu-kun?”

In lieu of a direct reply, Izuku rapidly glances over the class to find Shoto and Kirishima, raising his voice to call out to them. “Tag in!”

The pair react almost without thinking, darting over to Ochako and slapping their hands against hers to come swiftly under the effects of her Quirk, right in time for the cliff face to give way beneath them in an avalanche. This isn’t a pitstop at all, it’s the first part of their training! While most of the class scrambles for footing and to slide down the suddenly shifted earth without falling on their faces (with Sero failing spectacularly), Izuku’s group floats down gently, landing at the bottom amongst the trees that make up The Beast’s Forest, according to Pixie-Bob’s shout from the bus stop. Almost immediately, he sees why it’s called that: a giant, lumbering thing stalks out of the woods, growling animalistically. It’s decidedly not an animal, however, as it ignores Koda’s Anivoice completely and takes a swipe at him with a large, rock-like hand. It doesn’t take long for Izuku to put two and two together, sighing as he finally climbs from Tsu’s arms and settles into a fighting stance. He’ll have to pull his punches here, maybe ten percent? No, eight should be enough; can’t risk tearing up his shirt, after all. Probably not a direct hit either. Air Force risks pissing the thing off, so he’ll want to get it in one blow.

He curls his fingers for a palmheel strike, draws his arm back, and focuses One for All into his hand, feeling the Quirk crackle under his skin. Planting his feet he shifts his weight and, with a mighty push, thrusts his arm forward, creating a massive concussive blast of air. The head of the earthen beast is blown to pieces, showering the trees behind it with a barrage of pebbles, and its body loses cohesion, returning it to a pile of inanimate dirt. Kirishima slaps him heartily on the shoulder.

“Never get sick of seeing you work, Midobro! That was manly as hell! You up to taking point here?”

Izuku shakes his head, letting out one last yawn. “Not without my outfit; I can do rear guard or vanguard, but scouting and point will need to be someone else. Tokoyami and Bakugo, maybe?”

“You got it, boss man! Oi, Bakubro!”

Within minutes, the students pick themselves up, dust one another off, and fall into an easy, loose formation, their heavy hitters strategically placed at key points to ward off larger assaults. With smooth, mechanical precision, they begin to make their way towards the distant lodge, working together in smaller cohorts to take out any more clay constructs that wander near with ruthless efficiency. Slowly but surely, they clear a path, and Izuku has minimal work to do aside from keeping an eye on everyone. He lands a total of five more hits, each one an instant killshot, before the class stumbles into a large clearing. He walks around, making sure each and every one of his friends are okay, tosses out a few smaller bandage rolls from his jacket pockets (and wishes he’d kept his proper day bag), then approaches a smugly smirking Aizawa and a rather shocked-looking Pixie-Bob.

“That was rude, sensei.”

“You made it out of there within the time limit, didn’t you?” The Pro shoots back, smiling all the wider. “The fake time limit, I might add. Logical ruse, problem child.”

“Logic this,” Izuku signs in reply before turning his attention to the second Hero. “You’ll want to create a few more constructs if they’re meant to be general security, Tsuchikawa-sensei. We took out… Twenty-six? No, twenty-seven, I forgot about that first one. If you’ll excuse me, I need the restroom.”

With a polite bow to Pixie-Bob, and a short wave to Aizawa, he turns on his heel and strolls off, feeling just a little bit of intense satisfaction as he hears his teacher being interrogated by the Pussycat. Defying expectations has become something of a hobby, and it brings him just a touch of joy to get back at Aizawa’s little trick with the pit stop by subjecting him to the overly-curious woman’s questioning. Maybe that’s a little mean of him, but he hasn’t had his post-nap snack yet so he’s a little cranky. As he heads towards the facilities, he passes by a boy with dusty purple hair crouching down to speak softly to a rather angry-looking child. That would be Shinsou Hitoshi, the sole student who had moved up from the General Studies Course to the Heroics Course after an amazing showing in the Sports Festival. He’d been one of the star subjects of 1-A’s report, which the entire class had made a pact to never let him find out, and had been placed in 1-B when Aizawa had made a federal issue out of not wanting anyone added to his own class after everything that had happened between them. Izuku hasn’t had a chance to get to know the new boy yet, so he mentally pencils the time into his schedule to strike up a conversation during the training camp.

Despite being deep in the middle of nowhere, the washroom is actually pretty nice, clean and well-appointed, with automatic sinks and soap dispensers. After getting cleaned up and splashing a little water on his face, Izuku wanders off in search of his luggage, which he finds set out near the bus. He snags a protein bar from his day bag before slinging it over his back, leaving his suitcase where it is and heading to try and find his girlfriends next, becoming distracted by a familiar voice yelling at who knows what. With a light sigh, he heads toward it, figuring he should try and save whoever it is from Bakugo’s ire - or at least make sure nothing gets blown up. The problem, it turns out, is kitchen duty: someone has made the mistake of putting Bakugo’s name on the roster for meal preparation, and the blonde bomberanian is having none of it.

“-fucking refuse to cook for this batch of ingrates, let alone the backup class of fucking extras! One of them puts cheese sauce on his fucking curry! I don’t even want to find out what absolute goddamn monstrosities the second loser brigade commits on their food! I’m not doing it!”

“This is unbecoming of you, Bakugo-san!” That’ll be Iida. “Mandalay-sensei is correct, we must all learn to pull our weight, even if it means things we are normally uncomfortable with!”

“Shut the fuck up four-eyes, you put that disgusting chili paste on everything!”

“Why I never!”

“Like fuck you never you ageusic bitch, because I always!”

Okay, time for Izuku to step in. Moving lightly on his feet, he dances past the snarling, simmering Bakugo, snatches the schedule from his hand, whirls around Iida’s off-road wheelchair to steal a pen from his shirt pocket, and scribbles his own name in place of the other boy’s. “Alright, problem solved! Bakugo, I get it, but did it occur to you to maybe explain why you don’t like to cook for people?”

The other boy growls and crosses his arms, refusing to meet Izuku’s eyes. Typical. He tosses the pen back to Iida and turns to the Pro Hero Mandalay with a smile. “Don’t mind him too much, sensei. Are you familiar at all with Sekisetsu no ie?”

The cat-themed brunette tilts her head, resting a paw-gloved hand under her chin. “That ryotei chain out of Kyoto? Yeah, I got a New Year's meal from there a few years back; it’s the oldest ryotei group still standing, right?”

Izuku nods, hiking a thumb towards the still-scowling Bakugo. “Care to guess the name of the family that runs it? The Bakugos have been making and serving kaiseki and osechi for generations; it’s practically a sacred art for them. And you can imagine how it feels to someone like that for their food to be covered in something like cheese paste.”

“Oh.” The Pro nods thoughtfully, then shrugs. “Well, in that case I can put you down for extenuating circumstances and have you moved to dish duty full-time, if you’re good with that, kitten!”

With that out of the way, Izuku skips back over to claim a hug from Iida, nosing his cheek gently before bouncing out the door while humming, off to find more affection and attention. He spots Shoto standing off by himself, as he often does, and sprints over to grab the bichromic boy and spin him around a few times in an extra-squeezy hug. His friend lets out an amused huff as he’s finally set down, tangling his fingers in the greenet’s hair and scritching at his scalp. “What has you in such an affectionate mood, Izuku? Was it getting that hour-long nap with your favourite pillow?”

Izuku giggles happily, leaning into Shoto’s fingers. “I dunno! I just have a good feeling about today. And the next couple days, for that matter. I was cranky earlier, but I got a snack.”

“I am told that regular snacks are a prominent method for elevating one’s mood, so that may be it,” the other boy replies in his usual solemn deadpan. “By you, as a matter of fact, so it’s probably correct.”

Taking hold of one of Shoto’s hands, he leads the boy along on his journey to find Ochako and Tsuyu, roping Kirishima in along the way. The only one missing from his usual friend group is Iida, but he’ll be along soon most likely, especially once Aizawa puts out the call for the class to gather round.

“Okay, hellspawn; only gonna say this once, punishment if you make me say it twice, blah blah blah. You know the drill by now. It may feel like you’re on vacation right now, but don’t forget that this is a training camp, hellions, and that means you will be training! Quirked combat, Quirkless combat, group combat, solo rescue, whatever it is you need the most practice in. Some of you lack power. Some of you lack control. Some, a mix of both.” Here, Aizawa raises a hand and points directly at Izuku, causing him to jump slightly. “You, Midoriya, are an overachiever, and that means you’re going through a special kind of hell: you’re gonna be my assistant.”

Oh Izuku does not like the look on his teacher’s face. “Your assistant, sensei?”

The man nods, his twisted grin growing even wider. “That’s right! You get to learn management skills. You’re technically the head of an entire Agency right now, and even when Yagi gets better, you may need to stay in that position for the foreseeable future. So, it was decided that you’ll be spending the training camp period learning to fit that role. That means you’re going to work with me on the execution of your classmates’ training plans. You’ll be watching over them, taking notes, making corrections and adjustments…”

Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad; Izuku’s used to all of those things!

“And filing paperwork.”

Ah. There’s the other shoe. “And am I to assume this is going to be on top of keeping up with my own exercises, sensei?”

“Now you’re catching on, problem child. Welcome to the forest training camp from hell, kids. Enjoy your stay, and try not to die.”

Chapter Text

After a single full day, Izuku is already tired of being Aizawa’s assistant. Why is there so much paperwork for basic Quirk training exercises? Who had the bright idea of requiring incident reports for combat-related injuries during sparring practice? In what world does it make any sense to fill out expense forms for individual meals rather than food provided over the course of their entire stay?! Either Aizawa is screwing with him on purpose, or else Nedzu is screwing with Aizawa; he can’t decide which is worse. If this is the kind of management he’s expected to do as the executive of Mighty Agency, he’s going to make his apologies to Toshi and get the man to alter his will, give the place to Sir Nighteye or something with the caveat that he be hired on when he graduates. Sure, it’s nice to have effectively unlimited resources, but not at the cost of manually filling out paperwork to this degree. Looking despairingly at the third copy of the report he’s being told to fill out explaining how Denki had gotten bruises on his shoulder while doing hand to hand combat with Kirishima, Izuku slams his head down on the desk and lets out a loud, frustrated groan.

“Sensei. Sensei I am going to die. That or I’m going to kill someone, whichever comes first. You do know carbon copy paper exists, right? I can get some printers for the school; I know this really great print shop down by Tatooin Station, they’ll let me place an order through their supplier. I am willing to throw hands with Principal Nedzu if necessary. I will punt him like a football if it means I don’t have to manually fill out five copies of the same form. Sensei, please. There’s a better way.”

Aizawa, for his part, slams his hands down on his own desk, commandeered from the Pussycats’ office, causing the greenet to jump. “Fourteen hours. Fourteen fucking hours, Kan!”

“Now, Aizawa,” the large man replies, holding his hands up as if to ward off a potential physical attack.

“No, Kan! This was your idea! I told you, didn’t I? I fucking told you Midoriya isn’t the type to question instructions when it comes to bureaucracy!” The Pro’s voice raises to a mocking pitch. “‘Oh, but Aizawa, it’ll be a good test of his abilities as a manager,’ my ass! ‘He’ll figure it out in a few minutes, half an hour tops’, you said! I hate you. I hate you so, so much right now.”

What. What the hell is going on? “Sensei?”

Aizawa’s only response is to yank open the top drawer of his desk, pull out a large file folder, and stalk over to Izuku’s work station, slamming it down with a deeply pained sigh. “I told him this was a stupid idea, but honestly problem child, you really do need to ask more questions sometimes. I get that you’re used to dealing with government paperwork, but we’re not a social services agency.”

The folder is full of the same kinds of forms he’s been filling out since sunrise, only instead of the plain white office paper all his completed ones are on, these are printed on five-colour carbon copy sheets. “Oh. Oh I see. I’ve been had.”

“You sure fucking have, kid.” Aizawa slouches back to his seat, levelling his fellow teacher with a death glare. “You’re a son of a bitch, Kan, I hope you know that.”

“No need to bring my mother into this,” Vlad King replies with a huff, taking out a stack of his own forms. “I don’t like her either, but that’s uncalled for.”

Izuku can’t even muster up the energy to laugh. “Is there anything else I should know about all of this? Any other pranks, tricks, ruses either logical or illogical, tests, jokes, et cetera? Have I been filling out totally unnecessary reports as well, perhaps, Kan-sensei?”

The 1-B teacher has the grace to look sheepish as he shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no; we really do need to do all these separate reports. I don’t like it much either.”

“Ugh.” Izuku pushes his chair back, scoops up both his complete and incomplete forms, and dumps them on Vlad King’s desk with an insincere smile. “Kan-sensei, I’m going to go get some food! And then I’m going to work on my Quirk training, maybe get some sparring in with my girlfriends! Oh, and I have to check on poor Iida, make sure he’s getting on well; he may need some help with his scar cream, and I’m something of an expert on the subject. You can cover for me, right sensei? I’d ask Aizawa, but he mentioned earlier that he’s helping the Pussycats set up a trust exercise for our classes soon. Thanks so much, sensei; I’ve learned a very valuable lesson about management. Specifically, delegating!”

With a mocking bow, Izuku skips out the door to the sound of Aizawa’s wheezing laughter, feeling satisfied with himself. Two can play stupid games with stupid prizes, after all. It’s weird to think that just a year ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of being playful with a teacher, let alone actually teasing one; and yet, his relationship to school staff has changed alongside everything else in his life. Most of it for the better, a couple of things for the worse, but if he could do it all again, he wouldn’t change a thing. He does actually go and check on Iida, who waves off his concerns in his usual jovial manner as he dishes out a light meal of rice and pork, apart from his arm chops being slower; he’s got some pretty deep scars along the side of his ribs, after all. Still, it puts Izuku in good spirits to see him doing well, prompting him to whistle merrily as he heads over to the sparring ring he knows his girlfriends are training in. Ochako and Tsu are focused strictly on one another, trading Quirkless blows at a rapid pace. Ochako would normally have the upper hand in unarmed combat against most of the class after studying with Gunhead for her internship, but Tsu had been practicing with Izuku on numerous occasions since his return from the Americas, putting them on much more even footing. As he watches, Izuku’s smile grows when he notices that they’d taken his advice in working on a swapped move set: Tsu was using more punches and grapples, with Ochako focusing on kicks and jumps, each quietly critiquing the other’s form as they fought. Shoto, acting as the ref, eventually calls time on their match, and the pair exchange hugs and compliments as they move off to the water station.

Izuku polishes off his dinner and begins to limber up for a match with the nearby Kirishima, but is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Pixie-Bob and Aizawa, who call the students to gather around. It seems to just be Class 1-A present at the moment, but that’s apparently by design.

“Right, listen up, kittens! We’ll be doing an extra-special exercise tonight: a test of courage! Your fellow students in 1-B will be stationed all along the trail trying to scare your pants off, and you’ll need to grab your nameplates from the station set up in the forest and bring ‘em back to prove you made it all the way! After everyone’s had a go-around, you’ll be changing places and dishing out the spooks! Whichever class manages to get the most scares wins a bonus prize: konpeito, pocky, and a movie night in the lodge! Losing team is on cleanup duty after the party, and anyone who fails to retrieve their nameplate will be immediately disqualified and sent to polish the latrines, so don’t chicken out! You’ll be going out in pairs; 1-A’s usual odd man out problem has been solved by sweet lil Iida opting to stay back at the lodge for tonight. Ready, set, go!”

Dang it, now he has to decide which of his girlfriends to go with! Or maybe he should grab Shoto or Kirishima instead and let the two go with one another? The choice is quickly taken out of his hands as Ochako runs over and wraps herself around his arm, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. “Me and you, Izu-kun! Tsu wants to spend a bit of time with Kirishima, she feels like she keeps passing him over for Shoto; Shoto’s going with Tokoyami.”

Well, that settles that then. Lacing his fingers in Ochako’s, he offers a kiss of his own, trading one with Tsu as well when she comes by with Kirishima to head out for their round ahead of him. Kirishima and Shoto both ruffle his hair and wish him luck, which he’ll hardly need for himself - Ochako might, though, since she’s a bit easier to scare. They’re about fifteen minutes in when Aizawa gives the signal for the two to begin, and they set off down the dark, shadowy path. Izuku has never done a test of courage before, having always been excluded from the friend groups doing them for festivals in junior high, so he’s excited to have the chance, especially with Ochako. When they round a bend with an arch of trees hanging over it, they get their first scare of the night: a severed head with missing eyeballs dangling from the branches drops directly into their path.

“Hey Tokage.”

One of the girl’s eyes floats over, and her detached head frowns. “Oh, it’s you Midoriya. Damn, I should’ve known this wouldn’t work on you. Sure got Hagakure good though! She jumped like five feet and turned invisible again!” The head cackles and floats itself back into the leaves. “Good luck you two.”

There are a handful of other attempts on the way to the station Ragdoll has set up at the half-way mark, ranging from Pony leaping out of the bushes to Emily floating a bunch of light-up skulls around in the air. They’re honestly a little weak, in Izuku’s opinion, but he supposes they get credit for acting on such short notice. As he and Ochako pick up their nameplates and begin to head back towards the other end of the loop, he starts pondering his own methods. He could do a jumpscare of some kind, but that’s pretty pedestrian. Maybe he’ll be able to borrow some props like Emily? Nah, not his style. He supposes he can support someone else’s scare using the oppressive feeling Full Cowling tends to cause at twenty-five percent or higher if he focuses. He turns to get Ochako’s opinion, but the words die on his lips when he sees creeping fog off in the distance. “That’s odd, isn’t it? This isn’t the time of year for mist, and the weather’s been dry… Is it a fog machine? No, it’s way too thick for that.”

His question is answered by a sudden burst of Telepathy that makes his teeth tingle. “Attention all students: villains have attacked the camp! Everyone get back to the lodge immediately, and do not engage with the enemy!”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Grabbing Ochako’s hand instinctively, Izuku darts into the woods away from the fog, surmising that it’s almost certainly part of the attack and figuring getting off the trail will be their best bet for keeping safe. He hears a loud explosion in the distance and sees a pillar of bright blue flames followed by a giant cloud of black smoke over his shoulder. Time to put a little pep in his step. “Ochako-chan, can you keep up with three percent?”

The girl nods determinedly, and Izuku lets his Quirk spark up, like stars under his skin, wrapping himself in Full Cowling and trusting in his shoes, the only part of his Hero outfit he’s allowed to keep on him at all times. He doesn’t make any sort of attempt to keep from making noise, prioritizing speed over stealth, which proves to be a mistake as a blurry form shoots out of the trees and lands between him and Ochako, striking out immediately with a kick followed by a flurry of cuts with a knife in each hand. Izuku can’t get a good read on them, they’re facing away from him, but he notices the large mask they’re wearing, probably a filter for the gas. Ochako, for her part, is able to match the attacker blow for blow, blocking and dodging the knives and striking back with heavy punches, attempting to get them into a good position for a grapple, but it doesn’t work. This villain is damn slippery, slight of build like Izuku himself is. He waits, watching, until he feels something click in the back of his mind, nerves shouting to move. So he trusts his instincts, ducks under the sudden roundhouse kick, reaches out to grab an ankle, and heaves with all his might and ten percent of One for All to toss the villain into a tree with a loud thud. They’re winded, but only for a moment before getting to their feet with a wordless growl.

That’s when something truly unexpected happens.

The villain gets a good look at him and her eyes go wide. “It’s you. I can't believe it.” The voice echoes in his ears as the villain tosses her knives aside and pulls off the mask covering her face, revealing a girl he hasn’t seen in years, but never really forgot about. “I never thought I’d actually get to see you again, Midoriya.”

It’s impossible. After so long searching, after all the pain and agony and fear of what had happened, Toga Himiko is standing right in front of him. And she’s working with the enemy.

“Izu-kun?” Ochako hesitates, still in a fighting stance but looking to him for instruction.

“Ochako-chan. It’s her.”

His girlfriend lets out a sharp gasp, dropping her stance, and Izuku rushes forwards, wrapping the long-lost girl in a fierce hug. “Holy shit. Toga. I… I don’t even know what to say. Where have you been? What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

Toga returns the hug just as fiercely, shaking her head. “I can’t tell ya right now, I’m sorry.” Her accent is a lot like Ochako’s. “But if you’re the green-haired kid, ya gotta run! Shiggy wants ya dead, and your redhead friend too; somethin’ about you humiliatin’ him at the USJ. An’ he’s here to capture that explosion Quirk kid, right beside anyone else we can get our hands on. If ya run, I’ll pretend I didn’t see ya; that’s all I can do. I’ll find you again, I promise!”

Shiggy? The USJ? No. No, it can’t be. “Toga. Toga, please tell me you’re not working with Shigaraki.”

Toga squeezes him again, then pushes lightly at his shoulders so he steps back, a sad smile on her face. “I gotta. He promised he’d help me find my big sis. The Heroes, UA, they kidnapped her. I gotta get her back; I owe her too much. I’m sorry.”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit, why this? Why now?! He tries to think of something to say, something that can make the situation anything other than what it is, but his brain has ground to a halt with fear. Some test of courage this has turned out to be. Ochako steps cautiously forward, prepared to intervene, when the small radio on Toga’s shoulder squawks to life.

“Abort. We’re pulling out.”

A look of horror dawns on the blonde’s face, and she stoops to grab her knives, sliding them home in their sheaths and shouting into her radio. “Wait, why are we bailin’ now?! I’m nowhere near the extraction point, hold on!” She pauses to give Izuku one last hug. “I gotta go! I’m sorry, I’ll find you!”

And she sprints off.

Izuku just stands there, at a total loss for words and unable to act, until Ochako slugs him in the shoulder. “Don’t just stand there, let’s go! We gotta catch her!”

That’s right. If he can catch up to her, he can capture her. He can keep her safe, steal her from Shigaraki and shield her from the Heroes too. He can figure out what happened to her ‘big sis’, question Nedzu and Aizawa, and do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t disappear again. So he runs. Not bothering to wonder if Ochako can keep up this time, he runs as hard as he safely can, senses shouting in the back of his mind to keep him from running into trees or tripping over roots as he desperately chases after the girl he’d thought was gone for good. He won’t let go of her this time. He’ll run to the ends of the world, through Kurogiri’s portals and into Shigaraki’s hands if he has to, whatever it takes. He sees exactly the portals in question as he bursts into the clearing surrounding the Wild, Wild Pussycats’ lodge, hot on Toga’s heels, but something is wrong. There’s no villains to be seen, and the portals are closing.

“No. No no no, wait, Shiggy you promised! Shigaraki!” Toga’s screams sound broken, tearing at Izuku’s heart. “Shigaraki, I’m right here, please! Don’t!”

But the portals don’t listen. They close, turning into clouds of black mist that slowly fade away.

Izuku finally catches up to Toga, laying a hand on her shoulder, and his heart breaks all over again at the look on her face. “I. I can’t believe it. They left me. He… He promised! He promised!”

With a loud screech of utter despair, the girl collapses into Izuku’s arms, dragging them both to the ground as she sobs into his shoulder, wailing and crying her eyes out. Izuku can do nothing but hold her, squeezing her tight enough that her breathing hitches, and she does the same, clinging to him as if she’s trying to merge their bodies. Ochako makes it into the clearing next, rushing over and dropping to her knees. Izuku shakes his head as she reaches out a hand, stroking Toga’s hair and mouthing for the brunette to wait. The rest of the students begin to trickle in, Iida wheeling out from the lodge alongside Aizawa. There’s questions that will need answering, but right now all Izuku cares about is the girl crying in his arms, making her feel safe. Making her feel like he cares. Like he never stopped caring. It’s a feeling he can’t convey in words, but he hopes she understands. He’ll make sure she understands; when she finally cries herself out, he’ll offer her some of his blood, just like when they met that fateful evening in the alleyway. And when she’s sated, when she’s secure, only then will he allow himself or anyone else to ask questions of her. And no matter what she’s done, no matter why she’s here, no matter what drove her to work with Shigaraki Tomura, he vows to protect her with the same fierceness he’s protected everyone else he’s ever helped.

He’s the Saviour of Musutafu, and he’ll be the Saviour of Toga Himiko too.

Chapter Text

Toga Himiko’s eyes flutter open slowly, and she takes in her surroundings while lying stock-still. A small cot, single pillow, fuzzy fleece blanket, tile floor, small desk and chair, walls painted a rather pleasant shade of pink, single-bulb light with a dimmer switch, simple wooden door. Definitely not a cell of any kind. Not her cell. She’s still out, even if she can’t tell where. She can hear voices beyond the door, but only one is loud enough to make out what they’re saying, though not loud enough to be recognizable. They’re not shouting, but their tone is firm and resolute.

“Yeah, she’s in here. Nope. No, I’m sorry sensei, but I won’t move from this chair; you have to talk to me first if you want to get in. I’m sorry, Sosaki-san, but that’s not going to happen. I’m perfectly aware that you own this building but that means exactly nothing to me at the moment. Look, I just want some assurances-. Cut that out. Sosaki-san. Mandalay, I’m warning you.”

She hears a sharp, pained grunt.

“No, Aizawa, I won’t apologize; I warned her. Yeah, I don’t know how I did that either. You’re certainly welcome to try, Chatora-san, but even with Erasure on your side I don’t think that would end well. Thank you, sensei. Yeah, that’s all I wanted in the first place. You’re not arresting Toga, sensei.”

She hears the voice rise sharply, the shift in tone making her shiver. Who could be looking out for her like this? She’s too blood-starved to think straight. The maddening itch in her stomach comes back with a vengeance as her body rouses to wakefulness, that deep pain that had only been sated once.

“No, I don’t give a shit about protocol right now! I’ll be her guarantor-. No, obviously I’m not licensed, but as the acting head of an official Agency I do have the right. Okay. Thank you, sensei. Just you. No, I’m sorry Sosaki-san but I can’t trust you right now. Be gentle with her. Please.”

The door slowly creaks open, and Toga instinctively presses herself back against the corner, reaching under the pillow for a shiv that isn’t there. As soon as she sees who it is, though, she feels the tension leave her body and a tiny smile plays across her lips. Midoriya Izuku, her angel in green. Of course it would be him; he’d saved her after all, from being abandoned by the League. She looks over his head at the man who enters behind him: Aizawa Shouta, the Pro Hero Eraserhead; she recognizes him from the mission briefing. He slouches over to the desk, ignoring the chair in favour of sitting directly on it and staring at her, while Midoriya slowly climbs into the bed next to her, patting her shoulder reassuringly. He’s saying something, she’s sure of it, but she can’t make out the words over the sound of blood rushing through her ears. She can smell him. He’s so close, she wants to reach out and grab him, sink her fangs into his neck, drain him dry and finally, finally quench her thirst. No, she can’t, not Midoriya. Not after everything he’s done for her, from that night in the alley before everything went to shit. She has to hold back, has to reign herself in, has to put up with the pain and suffering and emptiness and even death if need be because she would rather die than let her Quirk kill him.

But it doesn’t come to that, because there’s an arm directly in her face, a hand resting gently on the back of her neck, and she knows deep down it’s being offered. She mewls slightly as she digs her fangs tenderly into the soft, supple flesh before her, nearly bursting into tears again as she loses herself in the sweet, velvety, warm, rich, delicious taste of his blood. She probably looks like a disgusting freak as she moans and whines around him, but he won’t judge her, she knows that. And he won’t let her overdo it, either; he knows something nobody else in her life has ever known, and proves it once again when she feels the soft, gentle tugging at the back of her neck that makes her jaw open. She sits in bliss for a few minutes more, head swimming and heart soaring, before the high comes to an end and she’s left with nothing but a full stomach and a quiet Quirk. She bites into the pack of Calorie Mate handed to her, savouring its rich cheesiness almost as much as she had the blood.

“Thank you.”

Midoriya smiles that angelic smile and rubs her back gently. “Good to see you’re back with us, Toga-san. Sorry if I woke you, we had some rather impolite guests trying to intrude on your sleep.”

Eraserhead lets out a snort at that, and she giggles. “I heard some’a that. Thanks again, Midoriya; ya saved me more times than you know.”

He shrugs a shoulder modestly. “It’s kind of my thing; I may have told you when we first met, back in that alleyway. Can you… Would you mind if we ask you some questions? Starting with what happened that night?”

Toga nods, chewing through a second bar of the meal blocks. “I uh. Well, when ya left, I took the phone ya gave me an’ I started headin’ towards the hotel you talked about. Got ‘bout half way there when I ran right into a goddamn cop.” Her voice grows bitter, and she angrily takes another bite of Calorie Mate. “He picked me up for possessing a weapon, took me down to the station when I said I was registered. Helluva way to find out my shitty parents had me declared legally dead. So, possession of a weapon, makin’ false statements; they tried to get me on identity theft but thankfully that didn’t stick.” She ticks them off on her fingers one by one. “And I couldn’t call for help cause they took the phone ya gave me! Set me up with a shitty plea deal from a public defender and tossed me in the slammer.”

She takes a moment to chomp down the last of the Calorie Mate, her smile coming back in an instant when Midoriya hands her a C.C. Lemon. He remembered. “I woulda died in there, too. Took ‘em eight months to get around to registerin’ my Quirk as a hemovore-type, and all that got me was a weekly quart of the stuff. But I met Big Sis, she pulled me through; taught me how to survive in there as a repeat offender herself.” She pauses a moment when she notices Eraserhead scribbling something on a pad of paper, but shrugs it off to wrap up her tale. “She got out ahead’a me, not by much, an’ when I was finally out she was my first call. You were gonna be my second, Midoriya, but when I tried to get through to Big Sis, I got some sleazebag named Giran instead. Told me she’d gone to do a job for a little cash, got scooped up. Never sent to jail, just poof! Gone!

“Giran helped me set up with the guys she was workin’ for, the League of Villains, an’ they told me she’d been nabbed by UA. Offered me a chance to come on this raid, get a hostage or two, try’n ransom her back. And, well. You know the rest from there: I ran into you, they aborted the mission an’ left me out to dry. Even after Shigaraki promised he wouldn’t leave me behind. Do you…” She sniffles. “D’you know why they bailed like that? It don’t make sense to me.”

Midoriya looks over at Eraser, who shakes his head. “We haven’t figured that out yet, but I also haven’t gotten all the reports in from the other students. You were deemed a priority as an enemy combatant.”

An enemy combatant, huh? She doesn’t get why that’s different from being a regular villain, but someone will probably explain the details. “So. What’s the next step? More cops, another trial, maybe a crappy deal and more jail time?”

Eraserhead somehow manages to look even more tired, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Normally, yes. But someone likes to make a habit of dredging up obscure laws from the early days of the Hero Public Safety Commission to make my life difficult.”

“Hey!”

She can’t help but let out a laugh at the sight of Midoriya’s pouty face. Eraserhead continues. “So, as it stands, you’re not under arrest per se. This problem child has decided to act as your guarantor, which means instead of being in the custody of a Pro Hero under lock and key until we can get you to the police, you just need to stay in his general vicinity for a while. This was intended to be used to keep Sidekicks or other Agency staff from being held in local lockup in hopes of avoiding a media circus before charges were formally laid; using it to secure actual villains is… Let’s call it unorthodox.”

Midoriya interrupts, wagging a finger at his teacher. “Toga Himiko has not been charged with villainy, sensei! Right now, she’s an enemy combatant and I must insist that you refer to her as such!”

Wait, what? “Hold on, what am I bein’ charged with, then?”

Oh wow, a smug expression of intense superiority looks good on Midoriya. “Absolutely nothing. Aizawa is here in his capacity as a teacher, not a Pro Hero, and the Pussycats are only licensed for search and rescue - there’s nobody here who can charge you with anything. See, while the argument could be made by the HPSC that a registered villain is by definition already a criminal and thus exempt from the Helm Amendment, anyone who fights against Heroes is considered a combatant - I’ll spare you the legalese right now and just say it means until you’ve been charged with a crime, you carry the exact same legal status as anyone else with a registered Quirk and no Hero License - which standard application of the Helm Amendment requires the guaranteed to relinquish anyways!”

She definitely doesn’t follow, but she trusts Midoriya enough to take his word for it. Satisfied with her snack, both of blood and food, Toga subconsciously allows herself to snuggle up against her guarantor/saviour, feeling content-comfortable-safe in a way she hasn’t before. How does this boy keep drawing out these new sensations for her, without even realizing it? That night, outside the convenience store, her Quirk growing silent for the very first time, the only time before or since? It’s like that now, because of him. She wonders why that is. She hadn’t told him that night, had she? Should she now? No, she’ll wait; this time, they won’t be apart, they can’t be apart, so she’ll let herself trust that she has time. Trust him.

She licks a couple stray drops of blood from the backs of her teeth and looks up at the Pro Hero across from her. “So, anything else you gotta ask?”

“For the moment, I just want to clarify a few things; anything past that will wait until you’ve been formally charged. Firstly, this ‘Big Sis’ of yours is the villain Magne, correct?” She nods. “Right. And you were introduced to the group now calling themselves the League of Villains through the information broker Giran?” Whoops, did they not know that name? She nods again. “Good, he’s a known element here in Shizuoka so that will be helpful. Finally, what was it exactly you were hired to do?”

No sense in keeping that quiet; it’ll help to look cooperative when it comes time to bargain. “I was supposed’ta use my Quirk to get you all scared. Disguise myself as the first student I saw, run to your base, turn into someone else an’ freak ya out.” To demonstrate, she slicks her hair back with a hand, changing some of her messy blonde strands into fluffier, messier green ones. The look on Eraserhead’s face is priceless. “‘Course, it’s loads easier to do this over my whole body, takes less focus. I’d show ya that, but, well.” She runs her hands through her hair again, and it comes back coated in the usual grey sludge. It takes an inordinate amount of willpower not to flick some of it at either of them, but she’ll settle for the sheer disgust she gets when she licks it from her hand. It doesn’t really taste like anything, and the unpleasantness of the texture, like an overboiled rice porridge, is tolerable thanks to their expressions. “See? If I did a full Midoriya of goop, it would be really nasty!”

“A full what?” Midoriya shrieks, causing Toga to cackle. “There has got to be a better way to phrase that!”

“‘Fraid not! You’re a very specific size. And kami forbid it’s a full Toga of goop, cause that would be even more!”

“Hey! It’s hardly my fault all the girls I’m attracted to are taller than I am!”

It takes them both a moment to register what had been said, and Toga’s certain the resultant deep, dangerously red blush on Midoriya’s face is mirrored by her own, and not because of her Quirk for once. Eraserhead cuts in as they both devolve into frenzied babbling.

“Okay, that’s all the questions I’ve got right now, thank you Himiko-san. Let’s all go outside and explain some things to the others because I am absofuckinglutely not paid enough to deal with this. In fact, I’m asking Nedzu for a raise the second we get back to UA.”

Izuku gets to his feet first, holding out a hand to help Toga to her own, which she appreciates. Eraserhead lurches from the desk to the door, pausing a moment as he opens it to shoo away the Pros waiting outside. These must be the ‘impolite guests’ Midoriya had been arguing with - Mandalay and Tiger of the Wild, Wild Pussycats. She wonders where Pixie-Bob and Ragdoll are, but that question is soon answered when the latter bounds through the door to the hallway they’re in with a split-haired student it tow; Todoroki Shoto, if she recalls. “Hey gang! I figured out why the villains bailed so quick! Shoto?”

Toga perks up, still slightly hiding behind Midoriya. This should be informative, but she doesn’t want to make herself the center of attention as one of the attackers of the camp.

The boy’s eyes flick over her, and he pauses, making motions with his hands in Midoriya’s direction, which the greenet returns in kind. Is that JSL? She hadn’t learned. After a rapid exchange, Todoroki clears his throat and proceeds in a flat deadpan. “One of the villains recognized me. Specifically, it was the one who made that large wall of flames; I believe he went by Dabi. I recognized him back, and that’s when he took off. It would seem sensible that losing one of their heavy hitters was what prompted the full retreat, when taken alongside the fact that their attack on the lodge itself was mostly ineffectual, from what I am told.”

Eraserhead nods, pulling his notepad back out. “Dabi, powerful fire Quirk. Knows and is known to Todoroki Shoto. So, you recognized him; someone your father took down?”

“You could say that,” the boy snarks. “His real name is Todoroki Touya. My older brother. He was supposed to have died in a training accident, but I suspect that my father exaggerated this somewhat. That, or we’re dealing with some form of necromantic Quirk - I wouldn’t rule it out, personally.”

Oh. Oh, that makes way too much sense. Dabi had been insistent that anyone touching a boy with red and white hair would be turned into a soot stain on the ground, and she’d thought the implication was that he’d wanted to kill the kid himself. He probably wasn’t expecting his baby brother to know who he was under all those nasty scars and staples. And if he’d run away after that, it would certainly have dealt a huge blow to the Vanguard Action Squad’s firepower - all pun intended. She says as much when Eraserhead turns towards her, and he nods in affirmation. As the Pro Hero stands around explaining what she had told him, the Todoroki boy comes up to Midoriya and wraps him in a tight hug. Huh, maybe the two are dating? After what looks like a good squeezy embrace, the bichromic kid offers her a hand, which she takes, admiring the firm politeness of his shake. “You’re Toga then. I have heard quite a few things about you over the time I’ve known Izuku. The girls will be very excited to meet you properly; Ochako was quite upset when you had to be whisked away so quickly, but she’s very understanding of your need for rest after your crying session.”

Right, she had done that, huh? Talk about embarrassing. Wait, girls? Girls plural? Damn, she hadn’t taken Midoriya for the type! But if Ochako was that pretty brunette with the chubby cheeks she’d tried to beat up, she can definitely understand wanting that for himself. Still, it’s unexpected to hear that she had made such an impact on Midoriya’s life that he’d be talking to his friends and partners about her all this time later. Sure, he’d done the same for her, but the circumstances are different! He’d been the very first person in her life to tell her she wasn’t a freak because of her Quirk, to sit down and talk to her like a person about it, to look her in the eyes and say that he cared. What could she possibly have done for him? It’s not like she can just ask, that would be weird. “Aw, Midoriya’s been talkin’ about me? All good things I hope?”

“Aside from how you disappeared on him, yes.” Ouch, delivered in such a flat tone that stings a bit. “But I presume you had a good reason to do so.” He pauses here, considering, then reaches into the pocket of his light jacket and holds up something unexpected: a nearly-identical phone to the one Midoriya had given her. They share a knowing look, and he tucks his away. “I will admit that I am interested to hear if my theories were correct, but I won’t make you tell that story until you’re ready. In the meantime, you should join us outside; Mandalay looks like she’s about to start throwing punches at Aizawa, and as amusing as it might be to see her get her cat-themed butt kicked, I don’t want Principal Nedzu to call me in for witness testimony. This way.”

Todoroki leads them down the hall and out into a large common area, ignoring all the other students who are gathered there in favour of continuing through a set of double doors, at which point the trio very nearly trips over a boy in a wheelchair. She recognizes Iida Tenya from the capture list, and as Stain’s last known victim, but she’s not about to bring up either, especially when she sees the fierce look that he levels at her over his glasses before turning to Midoriya. “There you are! Ochako and Tsuyu are down by the kitchens, you would do well to go and speak with them post-haste! Kirishima is likely heading that way as well; I caught him pacing and sent him on his way so he would not wear a groove in front of the door. And as for you!”

Toga jumps slightly as that passionate gaze returns to her, and the boy begins chopping his hand and speaking even faster. “I am sorry that I will not be able to give you a proper greeting at the moment, but I have to go and announce some things to the class! I will require an explanation as to your behaviour at length, though, so do not think you are off the hook as someone who did attack the camp, regardless of your reasons! I trust in our dear Izuku to have made the right choice in defending you, and I have consulted with both Principal Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei with specific knowledge about your case! I apologize for keeping you in the dark on this matter, Izuku, but I have been sworn to non-disclosure for the moment; everything will be properly explained as soon as we return to school, which I believe we will be doing fairly soon! I must bid you farewell for the moment; go and speak to the girls and to Kirishima.”

With a stiff, seated bow, Iida takes off at a clip Toga hadn’t been aware someone in a wheelchair was capable of. That was… Well, it was no weirder than when she’d met Spinner, just in a different way. She tilts her head at Midoriya, who responds with a sigh. “Sorry, he gets like that sometimes. Honestly, I was expecting him to be the hardest to talk to out of all my friends, so that was a positive start! I think. He didn’t go on any sort of diatribe about you being a villain, which is nice?”

Toga shrugs it off, following the greenet out the door. “I’ve met weirder; prison was full of his type. Caught him callin’ you ‘our dear Izuku’ though, what’s up with that? Don’t tell me you’re datin’ all these kids!”

Midoriya blushes a little, and the sound of his laughter is the cutest. “No, no, just Ochako and Tsuyu; Iida, Shoto, and Kirishima are all good friends though. Oh, and there’s Mei - we’re not dating, but she’s… Flirtatious. I think you’ll like her.”

That little twinge Toga feels isn’t jealousy, but it’s also not quite not jealousy, either. She’s not sure why she feels whatever it is, so she clamps down on it and buries it under a smile, just like she always does. The three continue on towards the open-air kitchen set up in the clearing, but as they approach, Midoriya misses a step, causing Toga’s hackles to rise. Surely there’s no threat here? No, he’s looking at one of the other students, and it’s not fear so much as a tired wariness. “Oh, Bakugo’s here.”

She doesn’t know who Bakugo is, but she’ll assume it’s the spikey-haired kid with a sour look on his face. He spots them as they continue to approach, shoves himself up from his seat, and marches towards them. Midoriya tries to step into his path, but the other boy walks right past him to stop in front of Toga and look her up and down with a furrowed brow. “You’re the chick?”

Toga meets his eyes with a bright, sharp grin that’s a little too wide and toothy, but to his credit Bakugo doesn’t flinch. “The bitch in question, thank you very much!”

The boy snorts and turns his back to her, beckoning with one hand. “Come on, I’ll make you something to eat.”

Toga’s not sure she understands the gasps coming from the others, but she pats Midoriya reassuringly on the shoulder and follows after the other boy, hands kept carefully behind her back so she appears non-threatening. Not that Bakugo seems the type to fall for it, but still, appearances are everything! She watches curiously as the boy grabs a bowl of marinated something or other, some cooked rice, and a packet of bean sprouts from a small fridge tucked under the large flat-top grill, tossing them all onto the teppan alongside a little bit of oil. As the food sizzles, the boy gestures to a rack of various sauce bottles. “How d’you take your yakimeshi?”

Toga shrugs, not wanting to insult someone who’s offered her food. “As it comes.”

Bakugo looks taken aback at first, then his face splits into a broad, sharp grin. “Tch, finally someone fucking gets it. Oi, shitty nerd!” That would be Midoriya, judging by how he jumps. “You better marry this chick, you hear me?!”

… What the fuck?

“Bakubro, not cool man!” The tall, muscular, big redhead jumping to her defense would be Kirishima Eijiro, the second person on Shigaraki’s kill list. “You can’t go saying things like that dude!”

Bakugo waves him off with a sharp snort, scooping the food he’d made into a large bowl and shoving it into Toga’s hands. “What the fuck ever, muscle-brains; that damn nerd has been obsessed with her forever. I call it like I see it!”

“Ah shaddap,” Kirishima taunts, mimicking Bakugo’s accent. “You’re the one who made her a meal! You won’t cook for anyone but Midobro without throwing six fits about it first! C’mon, Toga, let’s get you settled in and you can say hello to everyone. Bakubro, Iida wanted you up at the lodge anyways. Go on, get!”

Toga murmurs a quick thanks as Bakugo stalks off, grouching about a ‘four-eyed bitch’, grunting in acknowledgement as he leaves. At Kirishima’s direction, she makes her way to a small table with a handful of chairs, where someone’s already sitting with some food of her own - ochazuke by the look of it. She doesn’t recognize the froggy features, so she opts to say nothing and scoot closer to Midoriya as he sits down next to her, focusing on tucking in to her meal. It’s delicious, and not just because it’s the first real meal she’s had in ages. The marinated meat turns out to be pork belly, perfectly seared and contrasting the crisp snap of the bean sprouts. She gobbles about half of it before she can convince herself to slow down and avoid a stomach ache.

“Any good, kero?”

Oh. Oh the froggy girl croaks. Toga’s gay little heart can’t handle that, that’s so fucking cute. Chewing thoughtfully at the pork belly, she finally swallows to answer. “It’s delicious! I haven’t had pork belly or bean sprouts since… Well, since before I went to prison!”

The frog girl blinks slowly at that information before tipping her ochazuke into her mouth, slurping down the last of the tea with a satisfied ribbit. “Well, kero, that explains a few things. Also, you may not know it just yet, but that bowl of fried rice is the biggest peace offering you could ever imagine, kero. I’m honestly flabbergasted that Bakugo would cook for anyone like that. Oh, where are my manners, kero. I’m Asui Tsuyu, but you can call me Tsuyu. I’m Izu-kun’s second girlfriend.”

Toga nods, chowing down on the last of her food and offering the other girl a much more genuine smile. “Toga Himiko, but it seems like you knew that already.” Suppressing her accent around strangers is second-nature to her at this point, especially now that she’s much more relaxed. “Right now, I’m Midoriya’s ward!”

It’s Ochako who chimes in next, from her seat on the other side of Midoriya. “Izu-kun texted me a bit of his plan! I’m glad it went well; I was really worried for a minute there that it wouldn’t!” She grins brightly, and the adorable little dimples on her cheeks dent the pink spots so cutely. “Uraraka Ochako, Izu-kun’s first girlfriend. I forgive you for that incident in the forest, by the by. Kirishima!” She calls out to the redheaded boy, “c’mere and introduce yourself!”

The buff hunk pulls up another chair to the little table, setting a bowl of tamago kake gohan in front of Midoriya alongside a bottle of Pocari Sweat. “Kirishima Eijiro, one of Midobro’s best buds!” His expression reminds her of an eager puppy who just did a trick. “I probably know him better than anyone but his girlfriends, even though I’m still in a contest with Brodoroki to be his best friend, since I came late to the party! And speaking of a party, we gotta throw you one once we get back!”

Toga can’t help but shrink in on herself a bit at that suggestion. “I dunno, I feel like it’s a bit soon for a big party. Maybe we should sleep on it? I barely even know anyone, and you haven’t heard my story! That might change your mind, y’know?”

Kirishima shakes his head vigorously, his expression never wavering for a moment. “No way, that would be totally un-manly! If Midobro trusts you, that’s good enough for me! There might be some other stragglers giving you lip, but Iida’s gone off to give them one of his big speeches, so I think everything’s gonna be just fine!”

It’s Midoriya’s gentle, soft hand on her shoulder that gets her feeling like things could be alright. “Toga,” he reassures softly, “you’re not going to be forced into anything. We’ll go back to the school, get some rest, and then probably sit down with someone from the police so you can tell your side of the story about the camp attack. Past that, we’ll play it by ear. That sound alright?”

She nods, leaning a little into his touch and missing the knowing glances his girlfriends share. “Yeah, okay. I’ll trust you on this one. But before anything, I want to tell you all what happened to me after Midoriya left that night. And I want you,” she stares pointedly at Midoriya, “to know that I don’t blame you for anything. Don’t go beatin’ yourself up over not walking me to the hotel yourself, okay? What’s done is done.”

The greenet nods, blushing in a way that confirms her suspicions. She’ll have to spend a bit of time convincing him that it wasn’t his fault, she’s sure, but it’ll be worth it. Anything for her angel in green. She takes the melon soda Kirishima fetches for her and prepares to tell her story again, ready to answer any questions thrown her way. She wants all these kids, all the important people in Midoriya’s life, to like her. So that maybe some day, she can become an important person in his life too.

Chapter Text

The trip back to UA had been surprisingly uneventful, as far as these things go. Toga had been driven back by Eraserhead in a small staff car rather than the student buses, alongside Midoriya, who was both legally required to stay with her and happy to do it. They’d arrived at the Heights Alliance dormitories ahead of Class 1-A, and a cot had been brought into Midoriya’s room. That had been unexpected, but apparently nobody was willing to take chances of any sort of loopholing should Toga be separated from her guarantor for any length of time beyond using the restroom or changing clothes. The pair had gone directly to sleep pretty much immediately, with strict instructions to wait until someone came to fetch them in the morning before going anywhere, and not to interact with any of the dorm’s other residents for the time being. Eraserhead had even offered to explain this restriction to what he called the ‘Fab Five’, Midoriya’s friends, which she thought was actually really sweet of him.

Midoriya had been very careful not to wake Toga that morning, and she’d found a short note taped to the door letting her know in case she was up before he got back that he had just gone out to the bathroom, and a set of fresh clothes had been laid out on the bed for her. He’ll knock before entering, too. She strips off her seifuku, folding it neatly and tucking it alongside her cardigan under the cot, looking over the new outfit. It’s clearly a department store special of some kind, sized up a little bit from what she normally wears but definitely meant to fit someone of around her height, which makes her wonder who had donated it, if anyone. She’s not quite used to wearing denim shorts, and they’re a little high-waisted for her tastes, but the loose cotton tee hangs down nicely over the top, and that shade of pink is definitely her colour. She slips on the provided socks and her normal shoes, perking up when a knock comes at the door.

“Toga? Are you decent?”

“Not morally,” she calls back with a giggle, “but I’m fully dressed!”

Midoriya’s responding laugh brightens her mood considerably, and he comes in, changed from his casual camp clothes into his school uniform, hair still slightly damp from the shower. “Sorry, I wanted to let you sleep a bit longer after everything that happened, so you won’t have time for a shower just yet; Aizawa will be here any minute. You look good, by the way!”

“Aw, thank you! You look pretty snazzy yourself, mister red tie; cute as your meme shirts are, this is just crisp. And don’t worry about the shower, I’ve learned to live without ‘em; comes with the territory. Besides, I can always wash up later.”

Soon enough, but also far too soon, there comes another knock at the door. Eraserhead grunts out a greeting when Midoriya opens it, and directs them to follow. They go down the opposite end of the hall from the common area, passing by a few other rooms, then through a set of card-access doors and into the third dorm tower’s side entrance, from which they take an elevator down into one of the sub-basement levels. “Sorry for the cloak-and-dagger crap; I’m required by law to conduct criminal interviews in a secure room. Midoriya, as her guarantor, you’re legally allowed to be present for this, but your presence is no longer strictly required now that the initial charging documents have been prepared. I’ll assume you’re going to stick around?” Midoriya nods. “Yeah, thought so. I’ll spare you all the mumbo jumbo about your rights and responsibilities during the interview process since you probably know more than me, as long as you’re willing to pretend I didn’t. Here we go.”

He cards them into a heavy-looking door with no handle on the inside, which contains a steel table bolted to the floor, three chairs, and a large security camera with a blinking light. He takes a seat at the table and gestures to the pair of chairs on the other side before taking a digital recorder from his pocket and setting it on the table next to a notepad. He clicks it on, and begins. “Normally a member of the police force would join us for this, but as you’re not being Quirk suppressed pursuant to the Helm Amendment, department policy demands that he watch the proceedings remotely. I’ll be conducting the interview myself. Stating for the record, interview with a prisoner in custody of UA High School under authority of Pro Hero Eraserhead. Registered Quirk, Transform. Known alias, Toga Himiko. Legal name, unknown, but presumed to be Toga Himiko - reflect that the prisoner has claimed that the parents of Toga Himiko had her declared legally dead after she ran away from home. This fact has been corroborated, but the connection of this identity to the prisoner in question is still pending. For the sake of simplicity, the prisoner will be referred to by her known alias throughout this interview. Present as well is her guarantor under the Helm Amendment, one Midoriya Izuku. Anything you’d like to say before we begin, Toga?”

Toga nods, remembering the lessons from her Big Sis. “Let the record show that I, Toga Himiko, hereby renounce all affiliations with the criminal organization known as the League of Villains, and was not formally inducted into their ranks prior to the attack on The Beast’s Forest.”

Here, Midoriya chimes in, which is slightly unexpected. “Let the record show that I, Midoriya Izuku, speaking in my capacity as the acting head of the Mighty Agency and guarantor to Toga Himiko under the Helm Amendment, attest that the accused was led into the actions in The Beast’s Forest under false pretenses by known S-class villain Shigaraki Tomura. During these events, Toga Himiko was witnessed by myself and one other - UA student Uraraka Ochako - to commit no serious harm or injury, and also her abandonment by the League of Villains during their retreat.”

Eraserhead scribbles something on the notepad and nods. “So noted. In relation to the attack on The Beast’s Forest, you are currently being charged with trespassing, accessory to attempted kidnapping, accessory to destruction of property over one million yen, conspiracy to commit Quirk-assisted crime, accessory to aggravated muder, two counts of affiliation with a designated terrorist entity, and terrorsim. However I am authorized to refile charges as I see fit, if you prove cooperative. Furthermore, the accessory to aggravated murder charge cannot result in the death penalty nor imprisonment in Tartarus, as you are a minor. Also note that you will be further charged in connection to other crimes once we settle the Beast Forest incident.”

Most of those charges make perfect sense as Toga mulls them over in her mind, as does facing further charges if they’d found out about her past and connected her to the victims of her Quirk, but there’s one that sticks out as strange. “‘Accessory to aggravated murder’? What’s that about? As far as I know, none of the staff or students were killed!”

Eraserhead nods, tapping his pen against the notepad. “Under current laws, charges related to the death of one or more persons can apply if said persons are part of the group committing the crimes, not just the victims. During the incident, Imasuji Goto, alias Muscular, attempted to kidnap UA student Shinsou Hitoshi and civilian Izumi Kota. During his defense of an underage civilian, Shinsou Hitoshi fought and killed Imasuji Goto. For Shinsou, this is considered an emergency application of an unlicensed Quirk resulting in death, but for you and the rest of your group, this would be classified as aggravated murder, as it took place during an attempted kidnapping. As you were not directly present during that portion of the incident, and as you were not the one who gave the order to attempt the kidnapping, you’re only liable as an accessory.”

Well, fuck. That makes things a lot more complicated. Given everything already stacked against her, whatever they’re about to hit her with can’t really make things any worse - she’s already facing life in prison, even if it’s not Tartarus. “I am willing to fully cooperate, but I want certain assurances - for my safety, and for a friend of mine. Can you negotiate a plea bargain?”

Eraserhead scratches out another note, not meeting Toga’s eyes. “Go on.”

Reaching out blindly, Toga fumbles for Midoriya’s hand, and the boy squeezes it reassuringly as she takes a few steadying breaths, just like Big Sis told her. “I can give you the exact coordinates of a warehouse we staged the attack on The Beast’s Forest from, and the bar where I met Shigaraki and Kurogiri - my phone has a geolocating app; Giran didn’t think to ask and I didn’t mention it. You’ll never get into the phone without my password; the encryption is Quirk-supported. In exchange for that password, and everything I know about everyone involved in the League of Villains, I want the murder and terrorism charges dropped, and I want my Big Sis Magne released from Tartarus into a normal prison. I also…” She swallows dryly. “I also have a vial of blood belonging to Shigaraki - he’s who I was supposed to transform into when I got to the lodge. You’ve already got it in my effects, but now you know what it is.” She hopes that’s enough to strike a deal.

Jotting down a few more quick notes, Eraserhead finally looks Toga in the eye, and his smile is… Not mean, but hard, like she’d just handed him everything he was after on a silver platter. “You drive a hard bargain, Toga Himiko, but I accept. I’ll have the accessory to aggravated murder, terrorism, and also the destruction of property charges dropped for good measure. You are, of course, agreeing to plead guilty to all other charges?” Toga nods eagerly. “Good, that means we don’t even need to take this to trial; I just have to get a magistrate to acknowledge it. And, precisely as I had hoped, I can give you your sentencing papers - we’ve already cleared everything with our own legal team and the courts.” He reaches into one of the pouches on his belt and produces a folded-up sheaf of papers, sliding it over to her. “Just needs your own signature. You’re free to reject our offer, of course, but that would mean remanding you directly to prison.”

Offer? She takes the papers, unfolds them, and scans them slowly, flipping between all three pages. She blinks, shakes her head, and reads them again, but they haven’t changed. All the words printed there are correct, plain black and white. Midoriya, sensing her anxiety, scoots closer to read the papers himself, and his eyes go wide. “Aizawa, is this real?”

The man nods, his grin growing even sharper. “You better believe it, problem child. Toga Himiko is being offered a place in a pilot program run by UA High School on behalf of the Hero Public Safety Commission and the government, for the reformation of underage villains. It is the firm belief of both Principal Nedzu and the Minister of State for Policies of Child Welfare that this program has the potential to be significantly more effective in certain cases at rehabilitation than traditional incarceration.” He taps the papers. “As someone who fell into criminal behaviour at a very young age due to poorly-treated Quirk mania, as well as being abandoned by your parents, you are eligible for this program, which will see you given an accelerated special education course to bring you up to the high school level, as well as Quirk counselling and regular psychiatric treatment. Once you are deemed fit, you will be given ward status by the school and offered enrollment in a fitting course here at UA. You will stay in our care until you graduate, even if you reach the age of majority first. After that point, you will be given assistance in accessing either continuing education or the vocation you’ve trained for. As soon as you graduate from the program, your record will be sealed and all charges will be considered null.”

That’s. Hold on. Wait, that’s. Fuck, that’s all just way too much to process this early in the morning. What the fuck? What the actual, genuine fuck? Okay, one step at a time. Start small. “Okay, um. Right. Wait. Hang on, you said. What was it, ‘Quirk mania’? What the hell is Quirk mania? Is that like how I get bloodthirsty ‘cause of how evil my Quirk is?”

Izuku will later recount how the look on Eraserhead’s face seemed like he was inventing three new stages of grief to go through alongside the original five, all at once, but all Toga knows for now is his grin falls away and he lets out a short, quiet laugh. “Your parents, they wouldn’t happen to be part of the Children of the Martyrs would they?” Toga nods, vaguely aware of the angered sound coming from Midoriya. “Okay, that would explain some things. Why they’re still allowed to have churches I’ll never understand.” Midoriya grumbles something that sounds like ‘death cults’ and squeezes her hand even tighter, which feels nice. “Alright. Fuck me, I’m not the expert in this, but here it goes: Quirk mania is a medical diagnosis that I see… Way too often in my line of work; problem child probably does too. It’s what happens when you suppress your Quirk too hard for too long, especially consumption-class ones. There’s a lot of different theories out there about the mechanics and the reasons, some fit better than others, but for hemovores, you’re literally starving yourself if you don’t drink blood often enough. Your body gets the nutrients it needs, but your brain doesn’t. I think - did I say that right, kid?”

They both look to Midoriya, who’s nodding. “More or less. It’s a physiological and a psychological thing; your body tells your brain it’s not getting enough of whatever it is in blood that you need, and your brain kicks itself into overdrive trying to find it. From what I’m told, it starts off as an itch, and then it turns into pain, and eventually you hurt so much that your higher cognitive functions just… Shut off. Quirk mania expresses itself in different ways for different classes and types, but the overall result is it’ll drive you crazy. Hemovore-types face a lot of discrimination, so they’re not studied as well, but I’ve got plenty of anecdotal evidence. And that’s why I keep giving you my own blood - I don’t want you to feel like that ever again.”

He takes her hand in both of his, lifting it to his face and pressing it flat against his cheek. His skin is warm, soft, and she can just barely feel the blood coursing through his veins because of how much quieter her Quirk has grown. She glances away out of habit. “Toga, look at me, okay? There we go.” His eyes are kind-comforting-truthful, his expression is firm, but not in a bad way. “You are not evil. You’re not a freak, or demonic, or cursed, or anything else like that. You have a Quirk, a wonderful Quirk that has the potential to help so many people, and I’m going to help you unlearn whatever fucked-up bullshit your parents hurt you with. I promise.”

Sniffling, Toga can feel a few stray tears drip down her cheeks, and she croaks out a bare whisper of a response. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll trust you.”

Eraserhead, not wanting to interrupt with words, quietly hands out his pen for Toga to take. All she needs to do now is sign, right? Sign her old life away, get started with the new one. The one with him in it. She takes the pen, touches it to paper, then something in her brain clicks slightly. “Oh. There were other charges, weren’t there, aside from the training camp thing? I mean I already pleaded guilty so it doesn’t matter much, but what were those?”

“Right, yeah.” Leaning back in his chair slightly, Eraserhead taps his thumbs on the table rhythmically. “Let me explain. A little while ago, a couple of the hellspawn I call my students, lead by Midoriya, came up to me to ask - and I use ‘ask’ very loosely here - that Principal Nedzu and I use the school’s resources to help track you down and find out what happened to you. We did some digging and came across an old cold case, a long string of stabbings in the Kansai region under identical circumstances with very similar wound patterns.”

Toga flinches slightly. Yeah, that’ll be the killings she’d done during her bouts of Quirk mania over the years.

“As luck would have it, the case eventually got punted over to a Pro Hero Agency I know: Team Iidaten.They had done some digging, tracked everything back to a Catholic school in Nara, where a young boy was attacked by a classmate. They had tracked you entering Shizuoka, which is where the trail went cold. The day before the summer camp, they were able to confirm that the classmate who’d attacked the boy was Toga Himiko, the girl we’d been looking for. Tenya, the boy in the wheelchair you met, had helped process the paperwork - Iidaten is his family’s Agency - so when you showed up that night as a member of the League of Villains, we consulted with him on the case and he was able to provide all the details we needed, both to charge you and to work out the offer for the reform program. Which is all a very roundabout way of saying, you’re being charged in seventy-six separate events as part of that case, which Iidaten was very happy to be able to close.”

Yep, here it comes. “Kinda crazy that you didn’t lead with seventy-six murder charges, Eraserhead; was the terrorism that big of a deal? Or did the property damage tickle your fancy more?”

“Murder-? Wait. Oh, fuck me sideways with a coffee pot.” In the biggest show of emotion she’s seen since she met the man, Eraserhead buries his face in his own scarf-thing and groans loudly. She sits there, utterly befuddled, and Midoriya seems the same. When he eventually looks up again, it’s to deliver the most unbelievable statement she’s ever heard.

“Toga Himiko. You’ve been charged with, and pleaded guilty to, seventy-six counts of aggravated assault.”

Toga feels her heart stop. That can’t be right. After killing so many people? After a life of so many strings of murders that she hadn’t even known how many there were until he’d told her? No. No, no, no! She clenches her jaw so hard it makes her ears ring, leaning over the table. “What. The fuck. Do you mean? Don’t. Do not fuck with me right now, Eraserhead. Don’t you fucking dare look me in the eye and tell me that after all that, you’re dropping things down to fucking aggravated assault! What, just because I’m a kid? Just cause’a this ‘Quirk mania’ bullshit, you wanna belittle my victims’ lives like this?!” She tries to pull her hand away from Midoriya’s, growling when he refuses to let go. “Fuck you, d’you fuckin’ hear me?! Ya can shove this whole reform program up your ass, you bastard! I’d take Tartarus over this!” She doesn’t care that she’s screaming, can’t even feel herself rising from her chair as she does. “Do you have any fucking idea what it’s like to live with all’a this?! Knowin’ that my parents were right?! I fed people to my Quirk since I was six! I took lives, cause I was too selfish t’let my own run out. An’ I gotta close my eyes every night and remember that! So if you’re gonna fuckin’ call that aggravated assault-!”

“Sit. Down.”

Eraserhead’s voice is deep, resonant-hard-scary, in a way that reminds her far too much of her father. She instinctively collapses in her chair, where she’s pulled in close by Midoriya. The Pro Hero waits a few moments, then deactivates his Quirk. Her breathing is ragged and her cheeks are stained with tears, but she doesn’t care. It’s been a long time since she’s been so terrified.

When the man speaks again, his voice is so much softer that she has to strain herself a little to hear him. “Better. As I was trying to say. Toga, you’re being charged with aggravated assault because you never committed murder. In every single one of the seventy-six cases you were connected to, the victims attest being attacked in either alleyways or other dark, secluded areas, struck in the neck, and falling unconscious. Incident reports all indicate that you then fed on their blood, and left. All of them, all of them, survived. I am so, so sorry that you’ve spent all these years thinking that you were a killer.”

Impossible. That’s impossible. He has to be lying. This has to be some sort of trick, right? Some sort of long game he’s playing? Desperate, scrambling for something to hold on to, she turns again to her angel in green, a pleading look on her tearstained face. He smiles, tiny-warm-brilliant.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to trust him. But you trust me, and I trust him; he’s not lying. Toga, you’re not a killer. Your parents were wrong.”

It’s too much. It’s just too much right now. Pen in hand, she scrawls the characters that make up her name on the papers outlining the program she’s to be part of, pushing down her feelings like she always does and offering Eraserhead - Aizawa - a toothy smile. “Thank you. Sorry. Can we… Right, the. My Big Sis. You’ll get her outta Tartarus, right?”

“About that. Come with me, it’s easier if I show you.” Aizawa puts away the paperwork, pen, and recorder, moving over to the door and swiping his card to let them out. They head back to the elevator, Toga walking as close as she can to Midoriya without bowling him over, and ride it back up. Rather than getting out at the ground floor, however, they keep going, right to the top floor, where Aizawa leads them down a skywalk to a second elevator in another building. “Sorry, they designed this place weird for security reasons, and I don’t want to expose you to the hellions calling themselves my students right now.” She can appreciate that. They ride down again, exiting through another set of doors and out into an open walkway, leading past a large lawn with a scattering of trees and down the stone path to a whole new building. This one looks larger and more open, likely part of the school proper, and she can see signs for something called ‘Lunch Rush Cafeteria’. What’s this got to do with Big Sis? Are they just stopping to get a bite to eat first? She’s not that hungry. Opting to keep her mouth shut, she follows along, but they bypass the main entrance to the cafeteria in favour of going all the way around it, stopping at a small door labelled ‘staff’, which Aizawa knocks on after checking his watch.

The door swings open, and a tall, skinny man decked out in an oversized chef’s hat with a strange tube running underneath to where his mouth should be opens it with a small wave which Aizawa returns with a nod. “Jiro, she’s on break about now, right? Can we come in?”

The strange figure gives a thumbs-up, stepping aside to let the trio through into what seems to be the cafeteria’s main kitchen. Toga doesn’t get much of a chance to look around as Aizawa leads them through to the far side and yet another small door, which he knocks on again, receiving a grunt of assent, as though whoever’s on the other side is eating. The Pro pushes the door open, and a grin Toga hates the look of crosses his face. “Hey, fresh meat, got a visitor here for you. Don’t give me that look, just swallow; you’re gonna want to say hello.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s what your boyfriend said last night, Eraser.”

Wait. That voice. No, that can’t be right. But it is. Because seated at a tiny little table, wiping her hands clean on a damp cloth, is the only person in the whole wide world that Toga has ever missed as much as she had Midoriya. Her normally scraggled hair is tucked up under a bandana, her scruffy cheeks are clean-shaven, but it’s unmistakable. Her Big Sis, Magne, turns towards the door and jumps out of her seat. “Blondie?! Holy shit!” The muscular woman rushes forward, sweeping Toga into a huge hug that makes her feel happy-safe-warm, laughing like crazy. “Oh sweet kami it’s really you! What the fuck, Blondie, how are you here?!”

Toga wraps her arms around her friend and squeezes as tight as she can, sharing in her laughter. “Big Sis! Shit! They told me you were in Tartarus, what’s going on?!”

Big Sis swings her around a couple times before putting her back on her feet and holding her at arm’s length to look her over like she always had after too long apart. “Got caught up with a shit crowd after I got out, Blondie; ended up cutting a deal with Eraser here. I thought I was going back to jail, but they stuck me in a reform program instead. Look at me, Blondie, I got a job! Like I’m some fuckin’ functional member of society or something. Got wages and everything; they only garnish a little to help pay for the property damage, but I get room, board, my hormones, everything. What about you, pipsqueak, what happened?”

“Same thing, same crowd,” Toga replies with a rueful grin. “Shiggy tricked me into comin’ after UA students to try an’ get you back, told me you’d been kidnapped! Long story short, I’m bein’ reformed too. And! And and and and and!” Toga squeals, dancing happily in place and pointing behind herself to where Midoriya still waits at the entrance. “I found him! Sis, I actually did it! That’s Midoriya, that’s the boy I told you about! He saved me again, Big Sis, for real this time.”

Magne looks over Toga’s shoulder, eyes going wide, and drops into the deepest bow she’s ever seen the woman make. Midoriya steps forward, looking slightly uncomfortable but not unhappy. “I am honoured to finally get to meet you, Midoriya Izuku, Saviour of Musutafu.”

“Ah. It’s, um, nice to meet you as well? You don’t have to do that, Magne, it’s alright.”

Big Sis straightens, a broad smile on her large lips. “I owe you, Midoriya. Not just for my little sis, though hearing you saved Blondie twice now means I owe you extra, but just in general. You’ve done a lot of my friends a lot of kindness over the years. You ever need anything, you come find me, okay?”

Midoriya returns her smile with one of his own, a kind type of smile that makes Toga’s heart flutter. “Yeah, I can do that. But I owe you too; you kept Toga safe when I couldn’t.”

Big Sis nods, then stoops to hug Toga again. “Alright, Blondie, we’ll catch up some later; I gotta get back to it. Love ya, pipsqueak.”

“Love you too, Big Sis. I got a lot to tell ya, so I’ll be back soon.” She squeezes Magne again, then turns to follow Aizawa and Midoriya back out of the kitchen, heart soaring. “Wow! Wow wow wow! Aizawa. Thank you. I mean that.”

The Hero waves his hand dismissively, walking them back outside and along the walkway. “Magne was Nedzu’s idea, thank him. Now, we’re going to get you set up with your new room, alright? You’ll be staying here in Heights Alliance 1-A, same tower as the staff, in a guest suite. I’ve got you on the ground floor, about a ten-second walk to the student dorms and Midorya’s room in particular - thought you’d like that best.”

She’d like that best by far. It’s a bit of a pain to get all the way back to the dorms, but she counts the steps from where they pass Midoriya’s room and Aizawa’s right, it’s very close by. The door they stop before is plain, featureless except for a small peephole like in a hotel. It’s got a big bolt lock, which Aizawa unlocks before passing the key to her. The suite is huge, at least compared to the tiny hotels, hostels, and capsules she’s slept in on the few nights she’d been able to get indoors; it’s got a whole separate genkan, unlike Midoriya’s room which had just had a small shoe rack by the door. As they cross through it into a spacious (by her standards) living room, she can see the entrance to a kitchenette, and a separate bedroom. This place is luxurious! And it’s all for her?!

“Bit smaller than the staff apartments,” Aizawa mutters, raising a brow at the look of shock on Toga’s face. “It was designed to host parents or visiting Heroes during extended stays. You’ve got your own three-piece bathroom attached to the bedroom. Furniture is a little sparse; you’ll be given a stipend to spruce the place up a bit, and problem child here can escort you shopping if you want. Otherwise, ask any of the staff except me.”

She giggles, dancing around the room, just taking it all in. So many things have happened, too many things, and she feels her smile slipping. “I’m gonna shower!” She declares loudly, prancing towards the bedroom. “Midoriya, can you stick around? After I’m all clean, I wanna go meet your friends properly!”

Midoriya gives her a thumbs-up and plops himself on the couch (she has a couch!) as Aizawa excuses himself and leaves. “You got it! I’m sure they’ll be happy to meet you; don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

She ducks into the bathroom, which is a nice light beige that’s easy on the eyes, and turns on the hot water with a button on the wall. Certainly beats a tap! There’s just a small shower, toilet and sink in here, but it’s more than enough. Because it’s hers. It’s private, she doesn’t have to share it with anyone, she doesn’t have to worry about her things being stolen, she can just. Relax. And that’s what she does as she strips out of the borrowed clothes, tossing them onto the toilet seat and stepping under the water. It’s warm, kind of like a hug. She’ll give herself a quick wash, dry off, then go. Or, that’s what she tells herself she’ll do, because as soon as she thinks it, something in her brain slips, and the weight of everything that’s happened, all the revelations and the tribulations and the massive changes to her life both past and future come boiling up from where she’d suppressed the feelings and spill over. She hates crying, hates it, but she can’t help herself. It’s all too much. She leans against the wall as she tries and fails to choke back sobs; not the heart-wrenching wails that she’d collapsed into Midoriya with, but thicker, heavy-deep-crushing. Once it starts, she can’t stop it, and her eyes squeeze shut all on their own. She doesn’t know how long she’s standing there before a gentle knock comes at the door, but she can’t answer it. A moment later the door creaks open and Midoriya, her silly-strange-wonderful angel in green slips into the shower and wraps his arms around her. He’s still wearing his clothes, so there’s nothing untoward going through his mind. He just holds her, pressing his weight into her as she cries, wrapping her in comfort.

It’s been a long day, and it’ll probably get longer still, but for now, she has this. She has him. And she’d never trade it for anything.

Chapter Text

The common room of the 1-A dormitories is noisy, to say the least. It’s not a bad kind of noisy, but it’s a different kind of noisy. City streets, fleabag motels, churches, all of those are the noisy kind of noisy, but this? This is a happier kind of noisy; everyone has something to say and someone to say it to, rowdy-rambunctious-playful in their raised voices and laughter. Standing on the periphery, looking out at the clusters of people, Toga can’t help but feel intimidated. It’s been a long time since she’s cared at all about what so many people think of her at once. Before this, it was just Big Sis Magne, and before that, Midoriya a little bit. In her hazy memories of her home life, she can sort of recall wanting her classmates to like her, to be friends with her, but after her Quirk had come in, it was practically impossible. Part of why she had attacked that boy in particular was because she wanted to be like him, popular and well-loved, and something in her brain had told her she could be like him if she could be him. But right now, she wants to be just about anyone else. Despite how things turned out, she had joined up with the group of villains who tried to kill them, and was herself part of a plot to kidnap and/or murder several of their number. Midoriya assured her that things will be fine, that he’s got her back, but she’s still afraid. These are his friends, his family. She’s an outsider, for all she’d met a few of them already. She doesn’t know how to take that first step forward.

As if on cue, the musclebound redhead that Shiggy despises breaks off from his group and comes towards them, causing Toga to tense up. He may be one of the Fab Five, the few who’ve heard her story first hand, but he’s still big. He totally ignores her though, in favour of grabbing Midoriya and lifting him into a hug. “Midobro! Boy, why are you damp? No, not important, you’re here! And you shouldn’t be! Didn’t you get Brodoroki’s text?”

Midoriya nuzzles up under the other boy’s chin, leaving a slight wet spot with his hair, hugging back before he’s placed on his feet again. “I did not! I was a little bit busy; what’s up?”

Kirishima’s big smile is disarming, his teeth even sharper than her own, flashing brightly as he ruffles Midoriya’s hair. “Man, I told you we were gonna have a party, didn’t I? But there’s stuff that’s supposed to be a surprise for you and Toga! And speaking of the girl of the hour!” He turns towards her, and something changes. His body almost shrinks as the tension goes out of his muscles, his smile becomes softer, and his voice calmer. “Toga, I heard you’re gonna be joining the 1-A dorms and UA itself! Congrats - I mean that. Mind if I hug you? Totally chill to say no!”

Toga mulls this over for a moment, then shakes her head. “Thanks for asking first; I don’t think I’m there yet. Maybe a little later, once I get settled in?”

“Of course! Always gotta ask new people; noncon hugs are so not manly.” Wow that sounds weird coming out of his mouth, yet somehow fitting. “Midobro is a hug bandit for sure though, cuddliest dude I ever met! Come on, let’s go say hi to everyone, and then figure out what we can do to keep the surprise parts of the surprise party a surprise!”

The trio make a beeline for one of the larger couches, which is already partially occupied by another trio she recognizes, making four of the Fab Five for the moment; she hears Iida’s distinctive voice coming from the direction of the kitchen. Tsuyu, the froggy one, is curled up against Shoto, apparently using the smaller boy as a heating pad, and Ochako has her legs tangled with the other girl’s while clearly leaving space on the couch for their boyfriend, who surprisingly pulls her into the mix, cuddling himself up against Ochako while leaving her closer to Tsuyu. It feels… Natural, almost, like she was meant to fit in right here.

“Me and you are gonna chat, kero,” the frog-girl suddenly declares. “Once the party gets going and you're settled in. The two of us first, then me, you, and Ochako-chan, then we'll bring in Izu-kun and the mechanical menace. Nothing bad, kero, just personal stuff I want to cover now that you’ll be a student here at UA.”

Toga is surprised when her chest doesn’t tighten at that; something in the other girl’s demeanour sets her at ease - maybe it’s her neutral expression, maybe it’s the calm nature of her voice, maybe it’s just because she’s Midoriya’s girlfriend, but she isn’t worried about whatever it is. Before she can reply, though, her vision is filled by a girl with violently pink dreads and a tank top cropped to show off her really cute abs. She notices Tsuyu go slightly pink herself at the sight. “Hi there! I heard my name and I came running!”

Wait, had she? Just who is the excitable puppy-like girl with the funky eyes? Tsuyu’s own eyes roll so hard she looks like she’s about to pull a muscle and she reaches out to swat the mystery girl on the thigh. “You absolutely did not, kero; I said ‘mechanical menace’ not ‘Hatsume Mei. Take it down about two notches, would you?”

Aha, so this is the super-flirty materials and mechanical engineering scientist that Midoriya had mentioned. The girl flops jovially onto the floor, leaning back on her hands and smiles up at the group. Toga feels like she’s being studied a little by those cross-haired eyes, but it’s an appreciative study rather than a creepy one. “Hatsume Mei, founder and chief scientist of Hatsume Industries! You’re Toga, right? Greenie’s special little treasure. You might’ve heard of me, and I’ve definitely heard all about you; the exact details are yours to tell but I’ve got the overall scheme of things down pat! So, since you’re a special girl to the special someones I’ve been trying to impress, I’ve got an offer for you: if you can think of anything that will make your stay at our illustrious school more comfortable, be that tech for your dorm life or gear for your classes, say the word and I’ll put something together for you, free of charge! Whaddaya say?”

Toga blinks, taking the rapidfire introduction and offer in, and something springs to mind immediately. “Can you make a more efficient mini-fridge with a compressor that runs quietly? I really don’t like the sound.”

It’s Hatsume’s turn to blink in confusion, and the way she tilts her head is adorable. She reminds Toga of a Komondor puppy she’d seen at a park once. “I mean, yeah, but what for? That’ll determine things like capacity and temperature ranges. And possibly also the materials I use for the heat exchanger. I get the thing about the noise, it’s totally distracting!”

“Blood,” Toga replies with a wicked grin, flashing her fangs. “I got a hemovore-type Quirk, so I need to keep my stock fresh now that I can actually have a stock. Nice as it is to drink right from the tap, I don’t wanna pester people too often, or kami forbid wake anyone up cause I’ve got a midnight craving! Midoriya, if you say that I’m always welcome to wake you up I’m gonna get one of your girlfriends to lecture you. I appreciate it, but no.”

She can tell from the expression on his face that she’s hit the nail on the head, and Hatsume joins in her laughter. “Right, got it! Personal bloodbank, silencer on the compressor, and I’ll even make you a good knife sharpener to boot! I’ve got my notebooks here so I’m going to go sketch some schematics while the party is being set up, and I’ll see you later! Bye-q!”

As fast as she’d arrived, the mechanical menace takes off again, leaving the couchful of cuddlers to their own devices. And cuddle they do, with Midoriya leaning into Ochako and pulling her into himself for the moment, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. She can’t say she minds it. They stay like this a little longer, Ochako’s hands carding through Midoriya’s thick, messy hair, and the greenet scrolling through his phone, frowning slightly at something and then firing off a rapid text that piques her curiosity. “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting a friend of mine,” he mumbles back, “looking for an old book he told me about once. I can only find sold copies online, though, nothing available right now.”

“Nothing in any local libraries? Can you get an inter-library loan maybe? I know the one I went to back in Nara had a pretty big collection of rare and obscure stuff.”

He shakes his head, thumbs moving rapidly across his screen. “I probably could, but I want a copy I can take home; it’d be the kind of thing you’d only be able to use in-house as a reference material.”

Their musings are interrupted once more, this time by someone she does know: the Iida boy, rolling up in his wheelchair bearing a very familiar object. “Hello again, Toga-san! I am sorry I have not been able to properly introduce myself yet, and that I am still unable to do so at the moment! I am Iida Tenya, one of Izuku’s good friends, and I come bearing a gift and a message from Aizawa-sensei!” He passes over the scrap of canvas fabric, and Toga eagerly pulls her knife from its sheath, flipping it over in her fingers and checking the balance. It’s still as perfect as the day she’d bought it. “He has affixed the appropriate registration sticker to the back of the sheath, designating you as a licensed carrier with a hemovore-type Quirk! You should not have any further trouble with having a small knife on your person! He does, however, send the warning that if you in any way disrupt the class or otherwise behave inappropriately with it, you will be immediately removed from your criminal reform program and sent directly to jail!”

Toga leans down to strap the blade to her thigh where it rightfully belongs, giving Iida a smile. “Thanks! I’ll be honest, knowing what I know about Team Iidaten and also you from Midoriya, I kinda expected you to be against the whole criminal reform thing.”

“On the contrary,” the boy practically shouts, chopping his arm rapidly. “My father was the one who helped design the program in the first place! The way I see it, so long as a criminal is able to repent for their crimes and see the error of their ways, it is indeed a better idea for them to be enrolled in whatever method of rehabilitation and reform are best suitable to readying villains and other criminals to reintegrate into society than it is for them to be meaninglessly incarcerated! That is the entire point of the criminal justice system, after all! Only those who show no remorse for their actions or who are simply too dangerous to themselves or others should be kept locked away!”

Huh, that’s a fascinating way to look at things. Toga had herself never gotten too deep into prison reform theory, but she knows Big Sis Magne has been a big advocate for it over the years. It’s hard for people to take her seriously as a recurring criminal, though - hard to talk about recidivism reduction as someone whose own record is so poor. “Well, I appreciate that lots! You should go see my Big Sis, she’s working in the kitchens! Though I guess you knew that if it was your family that made that possible. I owe you one.”

“Think nothing of it, Toga-san! I am simply performing the duties that best befit a Hero!” He rolls his chair off to one side of the couch, then carefully climbs out of it and squeezes in behind Shoto, jostling a slightly-sleepy Tsuyu who lets out a small ribbit of protest. So cute!

“Now then! I must insist that you and Izuku find somewhere else to be for a few moments! As much as I hate to break up a much-needed cuddle session, we have party plans to discuss!”

At that, Midoriya waves his phone, leaning in to kiss his two girlfriends before bouncing to his feet. “I’ve got just the place! That friend I was talking about texted back, and he’s actually in town! Toga, I really want you to come and meet him with me; we’re gonna go somewhere near and dear to my heart, assuming you’re up for it.”

The smile on the boy’s face is contagious, and she pushes herself up from the couch, accepting a gentle squeeze of the hand from Ochako and giggling as Midoriya goes around collecting hugs, nuzzles, and a few more kisses from the Fab Five. “Alright, I think I can handle it! Having my knife back makes me feel a lot safer, y’know?”

As Midoriya sends a text to let Aizawa know that they’ll be leaving the school grounds for a little bit, she says her goodbyes, and soon enough they’re underway to this mystery destination. It’s a short walk from the school to the nearby subway station, and from there a few short stops before they get off at Tatooin and head into the shopping district. The sign on the shop he leads them to simply says ‘Used Books’, with no logo or branding to be seen, and the inside looks just as unassuming; which is, of course, exactly what makes her suspect it’s anything but. There’s a few rows of low shelves full of assorted trade paperbacks and pulps, a small section of light novels and manga, a rather swanky-looking English encyclopaedia set with a hefty price tag, and even a newspaper shelf. Every one of these is completely ignored by the greenet, who approaches the long counter at the far end of the shop with a wave to its purveyor, a thin boy about their own age with scales poking up from under the collar of his slightly-rumpled button up. “Dashi!”

The boy looks up from the book he’d been flipping through idly, snapping his fingers. “Midoriya! Hey, it’s been a while! Have you got another pretty little lover on your arm? Where do you keep finding these cuties?”

Midorya rolls his eyes, clasping Toga’s shoulder in a familiar manner. “Not this time, Dashi; this is Toga! I’m bringing her in from the rain.”

The proprietor’s demeanour shifts completely at that, books set aside and spine straightening. “Oho? It’s not often you do that these days. Well, welcome on in, Toga. Enjoy your stay!”

Well, now she’s just confused. Her stay? In the bookshop? They’ve already walked through most of it, and there doesn’t even seem to be anywhere to sit down and read. She feels Midoriya take her hand, and just barely manages to avoid blushing like some sort of lovestruck idiot, following him along the counter towards what she’d thought was a staff door. She hears the distinctive clunk of a heavy automatic bolt retracting, recognizing it from the door to her cell, and grows only more befuddled. Midoriya pushes the door open and leads her through a small entryway and another door - this one a hefty metal number - into an absolutely massive space the likes of which she’s never seen. She can only think to describe it as a secret city, high beamed ceilings aglow with gentle, warm lights strung along iron girders like a tall bridge. Off to her right are rows of printers and presses, churning out books by the dozens or hundreds as people of all shapes and sizes walk among them, tinkering here and there with settings or cleaning them between runs. Past that is a cluster of at least thirty or forty desks, most occupied by people poring over papers and books of different kinds, doing things she can’t make out from this distance. The far wall is occupied by sleep pods like she’s seen at larger train stations in Tokyo or Shibuya, several of which have their indicator lights on. Next to those, a vending machine cafe that she’s sure serves all sorts of food, drinks, and sundries. To her left, a giant sprawl of tables, armchairs, sofas, beanbags, cushions, and a million other ways to sit or lay down, for work or for pleasure judging by the dozen or so people there. She sees a few signs for offices, some with names, and pressed up against the farthest wall are partially-enclosed booths for those who want a bit more privacy when they socialize.

“Oh sweet kami, what is this place?”

Midoriya laughs, tugging her hand and leading her along to the left, explaining as they go. “Welcome, Toga, to the Musutafu branch of the Collector Collective! The Collective started out back towards the end of the Age of Gods as a handful of likeminded people wanting to preserve historic things for the future, after seeing how much was lost to the war between the Cardinal Lords. It took a little while, but eventually the founders narrowed things down to something specific to focus their time and resources on: entertainment. Stories are the epitome of how we share ideas across both space and time, between any number of people across any number of years, but they’re often overlooked in favour of things like academia or political records. So, the founders decided that starting from the pre-Quirk era and running up through to the modern day, they’d be the ones to locate, archive, and in many cases reproduce different works of entertainment. These days, we tend to stop around the beginning of the All Might Era, when he made his return from America to Japan.

“The Collective started with a few outcasts, and as we’ve evolved over the decades, we’ve expanded into something of a safe haven for those who don’t have anywhere else to turn, or just those facing social stigmas.” This kind of sounds like a memorized pitch, but it’s endearing and entrancing. “We provide totally neutral spaces all across the world - villains, Pro Heroes, one side of the law or another, doesn’t matter. If you’re with the Collective, you’re safe.”

“What happens if someone’s not so safe themselves?”

“The peacekeepers handle it,” Midoriya replies smoothly, his tone hardening a little. “Each branch has a few stationed permanently, but there’s some larger headquarters that host larger units, and there’s also reservists. People don’t fuck with the peacekeepers. Our branch leader here in Musutafu is known as the Sentinel, who heads up the Shizuoka arm of the group. Anyone causing problems for the Collective, its members, and its visitors gets exactly one chance to stop doing so. After that, the peacekeepers will not hesitate to use extreme, often lethal force to keep us safe.”

Wow, that’s heavy. Still, she can appreciate the need to enforce neutrality and safety in their private spaces. “So, what’s your connection?”

“I’m a Finder,” Midoriya replies, his tone returning to its usual jovial mood, “and kind of a higher-ranking one. I go around finding things that might be of interest to the Collective - usually things like old books or movies, but sometimes people, too. That’s part of what let me become the Saviour of Musutafu: I had connections through the Collective to places for people to go for a while, connections through people who trust me on the streets for the Collective to connect with social workers and aid programs, and just enough people knowing who I am that I can reach out with resources to those who need them. That phone I gave you was made by a guy I helped get a job working for one of the Shizuoka branch offices, and the money was from my job here.”

Toga can’t help but notice that as they’ve been walking, people have looked up from where they’re working or playing or resting to greet Midoriya, who always waves back but never slows, prompting them to continue about their business without stopping them. It’s really something for so many people to recognize him by sight alone, and even more amazing that they all seem genuinely fond of him. After a bit more walking, they finally reach one of the semi-enclosed booths, which Midoriya knocks at the wall of. “I’m here!”

“You may enter the presence!” Comes the call back, which makes the greenet laugh. The voice is melodic and lilting, which matches perfectly with its bearer. To call them overdressed would be the understatement of the century, between their incredibly ostentatious crushed velvet suit in deep blue, and their sequin-lined cape and wide-brimmed cocktail hat - complete with no less than three feathers. They stand as the pair enter, throwing their gloved hands wide. “Izuku, my dear, how absolutely dreadful you are! It’s been positively ages since last we met; shame upon you! And who’s this, hm? You only mentioned bringing someone in from the rain, not that she was a veritable treat.”

Midoriya laughs, shaking his head. “Ages since you’ve been in Japan, you fraud! It’s good to see you, though. This is Toga Himiko - remember I told you about her? Toga, this is Luna, he’s-”

“She today, darling,” Luna interrupts politely.

“Right! She’s the friend with the hemovore-type Quirk I told you about, way back when we met. She’s a Finder like me, but a way higher rank and not really bound to any offices - more of a third-party contractor.”

The tall, imposing woman steps around the low table and sweeps off her large hat, taking one of Toga’s hands and bowing deeply over it. “Luna Arc Novus de Borealis Infinitum de la Santo Emiliani Andriel y Yumeko, at your most devoted service, my darling little vampire.”

Sheesh, a girl could get used to this!

“Luna, behave,” Midoriya scolds, folding his arms over his chest and tapping his foot.

Still holding Toga’s hand, Luna turns to the boy with a disarming grin. “Why my dear, I was merely offering a greeting! What, am I not allowed to say hello?”

“I mean it, Luna. Behave, or I’m gonna mail a glitter bomb to your house!”

“Kami!” Luna takes a step back, a look of genuine horror crossing her face. “Don’t even joke about that, come on!”

She returns to her seat, which Toga notices is actually a large, cushioned throne, and resumes lounging. “Alright, you win, I’ll be good. Now, to business. We do have a copy of that book you’re after; I took the liberty of having a reproduction sent to the front desk so you can pick it up on the way out. And as for the other thing we discussed.” She reaches underneath the throne and pulls out a thick wooden box with a butterfly lock, twisting the clasp and lifting the lid to show off the contents. Resting on a bed of black silk are six gorgeous, intricately-carved medallions of antique brass. There’s a small space in the middle of each that looks like it would hold a smaller medal of some kind. Toga knows what these are even before Luna says it, because she’s seen both replicas in tourist shops all over the place and a few in museums dedicated to the history of Heroics. “Here we are, six original identity badges, all with open spots for a personal crest. Relics of the far past, when Professional Heroes were just starting to become a part of everyday life. These were, as you know, the precursor to the license cards, made to be worn with the insignia of a particular Hero, who would then pass the outer medallion on to their successor while keeping the crest for themself. Genuine, of course; authenticated them myself.”

Midoriya takes the box with an air of reverence, looking over the medallions with a careful eye. He seems satisfied, though Toga couldn’t even begin to tell what sets them apart, and closes the box, setting it on the table and taking off his backpack. From the front pouch, he takes a crisp white envelope with a white wax seal on the back and an abstract flower on the front printed in green ink. Hold on. Is that…?

“Midoriya. You uh. You wanna explain where the hell you got one of those?”

The boy’s face immediately turns a bright, cherry red, and he’s only saved from dropping or damaging the envelope by Luna jumping up to take it from his hands, which he then promptly buries his face into. “Oh no. You recognized it.”

She can’t help but break into a fit of giggles, which just makes Midorya blush even harder. “Well yeah! Midorya, I’m a former homeless delinquent from Nara, of course I know what an introduction letter from the Garden of Lilies looks like! And, well, you only have to look at Luna to see why she’d have one-”

“Hey!”

“But,” Toga continues, poking the greenet in the arm lightly, “where did you get it?”

The boy sighs, sliding into one of the chairs. “Ugh, that’s just embarrassing. If you must know, I got it from a friend of mine who owed me a favour. Sometimes the people I help on my patrols are homeless delinquents with hemovore-type Quirks, sometimes they’re geisha, delivery health girls, or prostitutes. Luna has… Certain tastes, and her Quirk makes her uniquely suited for tracking down rare and obscure Hero memorabilia, so we make trades. I get her letters of introduction, she gets me things like the medallions. That’s why I have so much crazy expensive Hero merchandise in my room.”

Huh. That simultaneously explains everything, and yet raises so many more questions. Starting with, “so what’s your Quirk anyway, Luna-san?”

The woman gestures for Toga to sit, which she does, and pulls out a few glasses and a bottle of barley tea, pouring for each of them. “It’s called Genetic Memory. I can greatly enhance my intelligence, and grant myself an expansive eidetic memory, by drinking blood. I can perform complex mathematical equations, catalogue and track various subjects or objects, and remember precise details of anything I’ve so much as glanced at in my peripheral vision. The more complex the equation, or the further back the memory, the more blood I need to ingest. I use it for various organizations, including the Collector Collective, to find things that often don’t wish to be found. The downside, aside from the obvious blood-starving that you’re familiar with, is I’ve developed arithmomania; an obsession with counting, and in particular counting groups of objects. Hence the threat of a glitter bomb - I’m absolutely terrified of the stuff.”

Toga nods along, sipping her barley tea and enjoying its refreshing tanginess. It’s not quite as good as Midoriya’s blood, but it’s tasty. Oh, that might be worth bringing up, with the topic already on hemovore-type Quirks. “Hey, Luna-san, I got a question. Have you ever found that drinking someone’s blood while starving made your Quirk just… Be quiet for a while? Like you take a good, long sip and suddenly you just stop wanting to drink?”

The woman frowns, tapping her chin with a gloved finger. “Huh. Now that you mention it, yes, but not only while starving. I’ve actually taken days off work on a handful of occasions because I simply had no desire for so much as a drop. I wonder why that is?”

Toga nods eagerly. “Yeah, that’s what I mean! I get that drinking from Midoriya, actually - it’s real weird. For as long as I can remember, my Quirk has always been at least a little hungry, even when I just ate, but after I met him, both times I’ve fed I haven’t felt the need anymore. And I get a real headiness each time, loads more than usual. Feels kinda like I’ve heard ecstasy does!”

“Fascinating… Give me some time to look into this, darling, and I'll see if I can come up with an answer. No charge for your first!”

The double entendre doesn’t go over Toga’s head, and she blushes lightly while giggling. Luna’s very pretty, leave a girl be! “I’d like that! Blood is something of a hobby, and normally I can’t get enough of the stuff.”

“Oh great, good to know I’m drugs to you,” Midoriya grumbles playfully, laughing along with the other two. “We’ll have to keep that in mind for when I donate blood to your stash - keep everything clearly labelled so you’re not drinking yourself stupid in the middle of class.”

“Oh!” Luna checks a rather ornate silver pocket watch, confirming something or other. “Toga, dear, I’ve just had the most wonderful idea. You should speak to Tokubetsu Shoku before you leave! He’s in every few days, and today happens to be one of his working days. Tokubetsu-dono is one of our most esteemed specialists in food preparation; we keep a few on staff to prepare items for the vending machine cafe that cater to all sorts of various Quirk-related diets. Tokubetsu-dono in particular makes the food for carnivore- and hemovore-types, and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to talk shop!”

Oh, that sounds interesting. She turns to Midoriya, who gives a thumbs-up. “Yep, we’ve got time to stop in and say hello for a few minutes before we’re needed at the dorms again. Want to go do that now?”

“Let’s! And thank you, Luna-san!”

The pair say their goodbyes and exit the booth, turning towards the far wall across from the exit where the signs for the offices point towards, moving along a row of doors until they reach one that has ‘Food Preparation B’ stenciled into the metal. Midoriya knocks respectfully, and a few moments later a voice calls out to them, a bit rough and accented. “C’mon in yerself, my hands are a bit messy.”

Upon opening the door, Toga is immediately hit with the mouth-watering scent of fresh blood, to the point that she actually starts drooling a little. A huge, barrel-chested man stands at a long stainless steel counter with a thick, heavy cleaver in one hand and a bowl of raw meat cutlets in the other. He gestures them inside, setting the cleaver down and wiping his hands a bit on his apron. “Hullo. Not often I get guests, what brings ye to my humble workshop?”

The duo each bow politely, Midoriya’s shallower than Toga’s own, and she decides to speak for herself this time. “Hello Tokubetsu-dono; apologies for intruding, but I’ve recently come in from the rain, and Luna-san suggested I pay you a visit. I’m interested in learning a little about the food you prepare here; would you mind terribly if we watched?”

The big man looks slightly surprised, reaching up to adjust the net over his beard. “Aye, that’ll be fine. I’ve just finished a side o’ pork, and I’m about to start on a fresh goat. Stand there,” he waves a hand nonchalantly in the direction of the opposite side of the counter, “and I’ll chat with ye as I work.”

They move to the designated spot, and Tokubetsu leans down to grab a small goat carcass, maybe two hundred pounds, hefting it onto the countertop with a thud. He reaches under the counter to grab a fresh set of bowls of various sizes, as well as a knife similar to the one on Toga’s thigh; a sticking knife, used for bleeding. And that’s just what he does, slipping it expertly into the carotid and making a short incision. Rather than hanging it, though, he lays a hand over the wound and pulls it back slowly, bringing a stream of blood along with it. “This is my Quirk, ye ken? Makes it a sight easier to drain a carcass, and round these parts, nobody starts getting nervous about blood manipulation. S’why I like it here at the Collective.” He holds his hand over a small, yunomi-shaped bowl, portioning off a bit of the blood before pouring the rest into a larger container. He lifts the smaller vessel and holds it out to Toga. “Here lass, have yerself a good draught. Aye, don’t look so surprised, girlie; I can see that blade on yer leg. Get plenty like ye in and about, no worries.”

She takes the cup with a murmur of thanks, bringing it to her lips. It’s slightly chilled, but not enough to start congealing, just to keep it fresh. It’s quite a bit different from the human blood she’s used to, with a more earthy bite. It reminds her a bit of the lamb stew she’d been served once at a shelter, but smoother. Overall, she’d say it’s delicious, though she much prefers Midoriya’s. She continues to sip contentedly at it as she listens to Tokubetsu chatter while skinning the carcass.

“Food that satisfies Quirks is important, always has been and always will be. But even with as much as we’ve progressed these last few years in the field, plenty o’ people still face discrimination ‘cause they need a diet that puts others off. Raw red meat, pure fat, brains, blood; ye name it, someone eats it. Makes me right proud that I can work in a place like this, somewhere those sorts feel safe to be, and safe to eat. Take the Sentinel for example, our esteemed leader and head o’ the peacekeepers. I don’t spread this ‘round much, but he can’t drink water. He can eat enough honey and nectar to kill ye ten times over, but a simple glass o’ water will make him ill. People used to judge him awfully, even for something so small, saying all sorts of things about his health, but not here.

“Then there’s Luna, another blood-drinking type like yerself, lass. Everywhere she goes, those with smaller minds fall over themselves asking for her help, but groan and piss and squawk themselves hoarse over her diet. Drives me right up the wall, so it does. But, the Collector Collective takes care of our own, and that includes you now, lass. Any time ye need a place to rest and get away from it all, yer welcome here, and ye can get some blood from the vending machine - I keep it stocked good and proper. Finder Midoriya there will get ye set up with a charge card if you can't afford to buy the food yerself; everyone’s always free to eat and the donations are optional. And if I happen to be around and working, ye can always stop by and say hullo.”

Tokubetsu quiets as he moves on to the next stages of butchering the goat, expertly slicing through bone and sinew in a manner that Toga finds entrancing. Maybe in a different life, she could have been a butcher herself, but she doesn’t think it’s for her at this point. She’d rather have a human-facing job, something to make up for all the grief she’s caused over the years - even if it had turned out not to be deaths she’d dealt. She drains the last of the goat’s blood and sets the cup down gently on the table with a short bow. “Thank you very much, Tokubetsu-dono; I’ll take you up on the offer some time.”

The duo take their leave of the food preparation room, and soon the branch office as a whole, after Midoriya gets a text informing them that the party is ready to begin. Toga’s heart feels lighter for having visited this amazing, mysterious place, and even more that she’d been invited back. She’ll be forever grateful for all the good things Midoriya has brought into her life, but it sets her mind at ease just a little to know that even if something were to happen between them, or kami forbid happen to Midoriya himself, she’ll have this place still, somewhere she can go and just be herself, safe-comfortable-happy alongside people who understand her and are like her. She can’t wait to meet them, and that makes it feel easier to go back to Heights Alliance and meet the people Midoriya calls his family, those who are going to be her constant companions for the next several years until they all graduate, and maybe even beyond that.

She feels like she could take on the world, and sets her mind towards making friends as that very first step.

Chapter Text

If Toga had thought the common room was noisy before she had left, it’s twice as noisy now at least. It’s a proper party setup, or at least what she’s come to understand as one from the books she’s read. There’s a large spread of snacks all across the giant dining table, small party games like pin the cape on All Might or soda pong, and someone has set up a kotatsu and a card game that she doesn’t recognize. Midoriya had been pulled into that straight away, and she herself had been deposited into a large cluster of beanbag chairs apparently reserved for the Fab Five to watch. It’s a little hard to focus on with all the activity going on around them, but it seems interesting enough. From what she can gather, Midoriya owns a multitude of decks with varying skill levels, and is currently engaged in a ‘mid-tier’ match with Ochako, who also has a deck of her own. They appear to be in a battle of attrition, which is all the better for her, since students keep coming up to introduce themselves to her. Of them, Ashido, Yaoyorozu, and Hagakure have caught her eye, especially the latter. She’d made an appreciative comment about the girl’s fascinating eye colour, flashed her signature grin, and Hagakure had turned invisible with the most adorable little squeak. She’s not entirely sure if she’d taken off or was sticking around, with her outfit also turning invisible, but she’s got other things on her mind. Namely, the two girls walking alongside Iida Tenya, one wrapped around his arm and the second wrapped around the other girl’s. Curiouser and curiouser.

“Toga-san! I am finally able to introduce myself to you properly!” Wow, he seems way too excited about that, but it’s kind of endearing. “As you are already aware, my name is Iida Tenya, second son and heir presumptive of the Team Iidaten Agency and the Iida clan! I also have the pleasure to serve as the class representative for the Class 1-A student body! If you are ever in need of assistance regarding your school work, please do not hesitate to ask; you may not be an official member of Class 1-A, but I will strive to help you however I can! I shall let my companions introduce themselves should they so desire.”

The girl with the dark green hair and sharp eyes pats Iida on the shoulder indulgently. “Good job keeping it short babe. Anyways, hi, I’m Togake Setsuna of Class 1-B, Tenya’s girlfriend. I can’t help as much with homework stuff as this big nerd, and you’ve got the smartest kid in the whole school in Midoriya anyway, but if you ever wanna talk girl stuff, or if you’ve got issues with other 1-B brats, lemme know. Oh, and we can spar! My Quirk lets me disassemble my body into a bunch of pieces, and it makes me pretty hard to seriously injure, so you can go all-out.” She demonstrates this skill by detaching both hands, one of which floats over to ruffle Midoriya’s hair, and the other to goose the brunette next to her, who leaps into the air with a squeal and pouts mightily. “That’s Komori Kinoko, my girlfriend. She’s shy.”

Interesting. “It’s good to meet you all! I’ll take you up on that sparring challenge some time, Tokage-san, once I get settled in. Tell Komori-san her dress is very pretty.” She hears the girl squeak again and allows herself a small victory cackle. The trio move off to find somewhere that’s comfortable for Iida to sit with his still-healing injuries, but she’s not left alone for very long, because Kirishima saunters over to flop heavily into the beanbag next to her, his smile wide and unassuming.

“Man, this is great! Hey, you feeling up for that hug now? Again, totally chill if not.”

Toga runs the calculus in her head, idly tapping her fingers on the handle of her knife, then nods. “Yeah, I’m game.

Before she knows it, the redhead has got her in his lap, wrapping his large, muscular arms around her in a surprisingly gentle hug. It’s cozy-warm-pleasant, and she feels the tension run out of her body slowly but surely. She can understand now why Midoriya likes being held by him so much. It takes her a moment to register the rumbling in his chest as words, and she perks up a little to listen. “I’ve been given the task of telling you what the surprise element of the party was, which of course is the manliest thing for me to do. We wanted you and Midobro out of the way for a bit ‘cause we were planning a big shopping trip for you. Everyone’s been assigned a different category of stuff you might need that they know most about, and we’re gonna go all-in at a megamall out in Kiyashi. Don’t worry about money; Yaomomo is loaded and so is Brodoroki, so they’ll be footing the bill. We had to get Midobro out of the picture so that it wouldn’t feel like just another thing he was doing - we all want to prove to you that we’re all committed to welcoming you to UA. Welcoming you home.”

Oh. That makes her tear up a little, and she buries her face in the crook of his neck for a moment, sniffling lightly. She hadn’t thought anyone but Midoriya would be able to make her feel safe-protected-secure, but here she is with Kirishima doing just that, with nothing but a hug and a few words of kindness. The very idea that all these people care enough to do something so important as taking her shopping for the very first time, giving her advice on what to buy to make her feel normal, is practically beyond her comprehension. She can only ask one thing. “Why?”

That gets a soft chuckle out of Kirishima, who squeezes her a bit tighter. “I don’t want to sound like it’s just ‘cause of him, but Midobro was obsessed with you. He talked to all of us about the strange girl with the bright gold eyes - sorry, chrysitis iridum - and the beautiful Quirk she thought made her a freak. He poured his heart and soul into you, leaving us all enchanted. The manliest thing I’ve seen in a long time. And after all that, like some kind of miracle, you dropped right into our lap in one of the toughest times. Our mentor in the hospital, our friend barely out of it, and suddenly this girl that had captivated him wasn’t just a story and a memory. You were real. And when we learned the things you went through? When Iida gave his passionate speech about rehabilitation? Every person in this class decided then and there that you’re one of us now, and fuck anyone who says otherwise. You may not be 1-A on paper, but you’re 1-A in all the ways that matter.”

Toga lets out a long, wet sigh, content to just stay like this and soak it all in. It’s way over her head, but she can’t help but appreciate it regardless of being able to understand it. Maybe some day, months or years in the future, she’ll come to wrap her head around it, but for now she resolves to accept it. “Y’know, Kirishima, you’re a lot more well-spoken than you let on; you sound like a therapist right out of a book - not that that’s a bad thing.”

The redhead laughs again, jostling her slightly. “Yeah, I spent a whole break season in a camp for child psychology, so I kinda picked up the lingo. A real manly Hero’s gotta be able to do more than just throw hands!”

“Are you,” Toga manages a weak laugh, “calling me a child, Kirishima?”

“Are you,” he fires back, “denying that you didn’t have a real childhood, Toga?”

Well, fuck. He’s got her there. She reluctantly climbs out of his arms and turns to face the game just in time to see Ochako take the ultimate victory over Midoriya, letting out a victory cheer. It’s absolutely adorable the way her dimples dent the pink spots on her cheeks when she smiles like that. “Hey. Can you teach me how to play?”

Midoriya’s eyes light up super brightly, causing everyone around him to laugh. “Yes! Absolutely! I’ve got two beginner decks right here! Where’s- Hey! Shoto! Come here, be the training dummy!”

“If I must.” The bichromic boy’s flat affect is comforting, and Toga wiggles out of the beanbag chair to face him across the low kotatsu as he takes Ochako’s place. Izuku packs up the deck he’d been using and produces two new ones, handing one to Todoroki and the other to Toga herself, showing her the correct way to shuffle and cut the cards. “Okay, I’m gonna coach you through your first game, then I want you to try and play the second on your own. Roll the dice to see who goes first, then draw five cards. The opening turn doesn’t get to attack, but they do get a first draw.”

The cards are shiny in their protective sleeves, and sliding them around in her hands feels nice. Midoriya gives her a quick rundown of the different card types and when they can be played, then sits a bit behind her to look over her shoulder and tell her the most optimal order to take her actions in. She can tell she hasn’t drawn a very strong hand to begin with, and commits to defensive maneuvers that put her on the back foot pretty much immediately. Todoroki doesn’t seem to be holding back, per se, but he’s also not all that much more skilled than she is to begin with. They get a couple turns of back and forth before he draws a board clear and completely takes out her field, bringing up his boss monster and crushing her completely. It’s exhilarating, and Toga immediately shuffles up for the second game, this one on her own with Midoriya only offering answers to questions about whether or not something she wants to do is a legal move.

This time, her starting hand is much better, and she’s able to get her own boss to the field almost immediately, backing it up with a negate that stops the board clear which had killed her previously. She’s the decisive winner this time around, and they ready for a final tiebreaker game. It takes quite a bit longer, turning into an attrition match similar to the one between Ochako and Midoriya, and they each exhaust their resources trying to out-play the other.

Down to only a tiny handful of cards in her deck, Toga picks up the top one for her turn and reads it. Then she reads it again. She turns it towards Midorya and checks that it really says what she thinks it says before she plays it. She first declares the targets of its effects, several of the best cards she’d lost throughout the game, then activates another card from her hand that stops Todoroki from doing the same. He looks at the field suddenly filled with powerful monsters with a blank expression, then back up at her, and concedes the match.

She shuffles the cards into a whole deck, tucks it back into her box, and shakes Todoroki’s hand with a huge smile on her face, then turns to Midoriya and pulls him into a squeezy-strong-tight hug. “Woohoo! I did it!”

“You did it! Wow, you’re really good at this, Toga!” He squeezes her back, then sets the decks he’s brought on the table for anyone else who wants to play later. Standing with a stretch, he leads four of the Fab Five and Toga herself to their usual couch, which has a clear view of most of the rest of the party, plopping heavily onto it and letting out a content sigh. Tsuyu is the first to climb in next to them, lifting Midoriya into her lap and shifting so she’s pressed up against Toga as Ochako squeezes into her other side, making a bit of a sandwich of her. Kirishima sits down next, with Todoroki draping himself over the larger boy and tucking his legs in behind Tsuyu. It’s a bit of a puzzle getting them all settled in like this, but it feels really nice. Iida’s on the double-seater next to them with his own partner and metamour, and it doesn’t take long for Hatsume, whom Toga hadn’t even realized was at the party, to pull up a chair of her own on the other side, passing Toga a glass bottle of something sweet and foamy with the lid popped off. They all settle in to watch the crowd as the party continues on, chatting amicably amongst themselves until more and more of the other students decide it’s time to wind things down a little. After a while, everyone is paired off or flying solo in various chairs, cushions, beanbags, and other assorted seats, in something of a rough circle.

It’s Ashido who raises a hand to the heavens and declares a game of truth or dare, because of course it is, and she further decrees that as the guest of honour, Toga will be challenged first. “Truth or dare, sucker!”

“You ain’t getting me to do your laundry that easy,” Toga teases, “I pick truth!”

“Aha, you fell for my logical ruse to get answers out of you, you fool! So like, you can turn into anyone, right? Even boys? Can you just do, you know, part of them? Specific parts?”

Toga opens her mouth, then pauses. That’s a head-scratcher. What does Ashido mean by… Oh.

Oh.

She can feel herself blushing furiously, looking over at the incredibly smug grin on the pink-skinned girl’s face. “Are we uh. What’s the penalty for no answer?”

“Oh no you don’t! This is a no-penalty game, nice try!” Ashido points an accusatory finger at Toga, waggling it mockingly. “Answer the question, fresh meat!”

Rolling her eyes and trying not to die of embarrassment, Toga just nods, and Ashido nearly falls out of her chair from laughing so hard, held up only by Denki at her side. Ugh, she’s such a pain! Well, whatever, it’s her turn. “Hatsume! Truth or dare!”

The second pink pest locks eyes with her and shrugs. “Dare away!”

Toga doesn’t actually know Hatsume all that well, aside from her love of flirting and inventions, so she makes a play towards the latter. “Alright, show off something nobody else has ever seen!”

Mei taps her chin, looking thoughtfully into the middle distance, then perks up as an idea comes over her. Much to everyone’s shock, she reaches for the hem of her crop top and lifts it up, spilling her breasts out for the whole group to see. “Here ya go! Just got these piercings while the summer camp was going on for the Heroics Course! First time showing ‘em off to anyone. I’m also planning on adding a vibration function! Haven’t gotten the miniaturization there yet, though, and Sensei says I can’t work on them in the lab, the killjoy.”

Oh. Oh, wow. Toga had severely underestimated just how horny on main Hatsume is. Not that she’s complaining, exactly, and neither is the rest of the room - mostly because Iida appears to be comatose. “Uh. Yeah, alright, I guess that counts. You can put them away now.”

Mei pulls her shirt down again, and moves the game right along to Sero, who takes truth. Things continue along like this for a while, jumping back and forth around the room and ranging from the silly, to the absurd, to the only slightly obscene, and Toga delights in questions like the most unusual place she’s slept over the years (inside a butterfly sanctuary) and doing dares like showing off knife tricks. Things eventually come back around to Ashido once more, and this time she targets Hatsume, who picks truth, much to the relief of everyone.

“Right! Spill the beans, hot stuff, which of your three beaus was the intended audience for those piercings?”

Hatsume shrugs, tilting her head to the side. “What makes you think it was just one of them? The rules were pretty clear: if I want in, I need to flirt with all of them, and I’m doing that as equally as I can. Froggy can appreciate the aesthetics best, Mochi would probably work herself into a tizzy thinking about how the vibrating function would feel, and Greenie? Well, Greenie would probably ask a million questions about the mechanics of miniaturizing the vibrator motors to get them that tiny.”

Ashido whistles, impressed. “Dang, girliepop, you really thought all that out! Well, your turn; who’s the next victim?”

Hatsume turns to Midoriya, who’s currently swirling milk around in his mouth to quell the fires of the dab of Iida’s green chili paste he’d eaten, and a mysterious smile comes over her lips. “Greenie!”

Midoriya swallows, then shrugs. “Eh, can’t get much worse. Hit me with another dare.”

“I dare you… To go and put on Toga’s old outfit, and wear it for the rest of the night. Cardigan and tie included!”

There’s a few wolf whistles from around the room as Midoriya flushes a little, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up you animals. Toga, you don’t mind right?”

“Go for it! I kinda want to see if you can pull it off.”

The greenet slips from his perch on Ochako’s lap and sketches a comedic bow to everyone before sauntering off towards his room, where Toga’s old clothes still lie waiting. Everyone else turns to conversation among themselves, except for Tsuyu, who taps Ochako on the thigh.

“Hey, grab me a melon soda, kero. I need a sec. Kirishima, Shoto, take off for a few?”

All three nod, heading their separate ways and leaving just Toga and Tsuyu on the couch, which makes her more than a little nervous. She feels the frog-girl’s fingers kneed gently into her shoulders and relaxes a touch. “Don’t worry, kero, I just want to have that conversation I mentioned before. Nothing bad, remember?” Her voice is pitched low enough for Toga to hear, but just her.

Toga nods, leaning into the touch a little more. “Okay.”

“Great. Now, I am going to be incredibly blunt, because that’s who I am, and you are going to listen until I tell you that I’m done talking, because that’s what you need to do right now, kero. You got it?” Another nod. “Good, kero. I’ll make this as painless as possible.

“Izu-kun is absolutely, unbearably, madly in love with you. He looks at you the exact same way he looks at Ochako-chan and I both, kero, and I’m no fool not to see it. And, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that; we agreed very early on that we’re each free to fall in love with whoever we want. Now, here’s where things get complicated: you love him right back.”

Toga goes to open her mouth, but is instantly hushed with a finger pressed to her lips. “Nope, not done yet, kero. It’s incredibly easy to see for anyone who’s looking, and I’m always looking. The way you act around him, the way you talk to him, it’s just like Ochako-chan did when they first started dating. And, that’s fine too. I have no problem at all with you loving Izu-kun, so don’t worry there. But, we have a rule, as Mei so ridiculously pointed out: anyone who wants one of us has to woo all of us, kero. Mei has been on something of a probation while we figure out how we feel about her, but you’ll be skipping that phase, I should think. You won Izu-kun over the moment you met him, and I’m more than willing to give you a chance, kero. I’ve put some feelers out to Ochako-chan, but haven’t asked her directly yet; I’m willing to bet she’s on board though. So, what do you say?”

What does Toga say? This is all so sudden, and yet somehow completely expected in some weird way. Tsuyu isn’t wrong; there’s nothing these feelings she has for Midoriya could be but love. But what about the other two, where does she stand on them? And, importantly, them on her? She needs to know that much first. “Before I say anythin’ else,” she manages, her Nara-ben slipping back in, “I wanna hear from Ochako. Lemme get my head in order a bit, then we go from there.”

As if summoned by feeling alone, Ochako chooses that exact moment to return, bearing a trio of melon sodas, which she passes to the pair. “Okay, spill, Tsu! What’s goin’ on?”

Tsuyu takes a long pull of her soda, ribbits quietly, and pulls Ochako in close, practically squishing the girl into Toga. “It’s time to get all our cards on the table, kero. Toga’s feelings for Izu-kun, our feelings for her, her feelings for us. Izu-kun is in love, Toga’s in love, and I want her in on this. Mei can be handled, kero; she’ll get it. What’s your thoughts, Ochako-chan?”

The brunette’s face turns a rather dangerous shade of red, practically drowning out her pink spots. “Well, that’s, that’s a lot to spring on a girl all at once, Tsu! I mean, I can’t just, you don’t even-! Aw, ta fuck with it,” the girl groans, and Toga recognizes that she speaks Iga-ben! “Ya got me! Toga, I like you. I like you a whole lot, ‘kay? Ya make Izu-kun so, so happy, and that means the world ta me! He told me all about you on our very first date, an’ since then I knew damn well he’d never give up on ya. The kami above answered his prayers, an’ ya came right around again, an’ it was as beautiful to see as I’d always dreamed - no matter that ya tried ta knock m’head in at first! I want that happiness for him. Shit, I want that happiness fer me! Ya fascinate the hell outta me, an’ I think we could all be real good for one another. So, your call.”

A blush creeps its way up Toga’s neck, and she’s suddenly very aware of just how close the other two girls are. “A’ight. A’ight. Y’see, Midorya an’ I spent some time together, after all the stuff with Aizawa got done, an’ he just held me an’ talked to me so I could calm down. Know what he talked ‘bout? His friends. His family. An’ more’n anythin’, he talked about his girls. Told me all about you, how much he loves you, how great ya both are. Made me feel like I knew ya already, a lil bit at least. An’ it made me feel like I could trust ya with anythin’ - even my heart. So, I’ll do it. I’ll make this work, an’ we can all be together, so I can have him and the two’a you. I accept.”

They each lapse into silence, holding one another gently and feeling what it’s like to be together like this. Toga wishes it could last forever, this beautiful moment, but it can’t. They hear the soft shuffle of shoes on carpet, and look up to see Midoriya coming back, dressed to the nines in Toga’s schoolgirl getup. It’s a bit big on him, but it doesn’t look bad. What does look bad, though, is the giant trails of tears pouring down his face. What the fuck? What happened?

Kirishima is the first to react, because of course he is, setting Todoroki aside and rising half-way to his feet. “Midobro? You good? What’s wrong?”

Midoriya shakes his head, hiccuping slightly, and continues his slow shuffle. More students call out to him, some making as if to get up and comfort him, but Kirishima waves them down. Bit by bit, Midoriya makes his way towards the couch, prompting Ochako, Tsuyu, and Toga herself to untangle from one another and sit up, waiting patiently for him to speak. When he finally does, it’s in the raspy voice of someone who’s been sobbing themselves hoarse, and it’s an answer nobody could have predicted he would give that day.

“Tsu-chan. I think I finally understand what you meant when you were talking about gender euphoria.”

Chapter Text

It feels strange, to be disconnected from one’s own name. That’s the only thought that the teen currently standing in front of a trio of girls can comprehend, aside from how annoying it is to be slightly dehydrated from crying so hard. Midoriya Izuku is a boy’s name. Is the teen still a boy? Is someone like this allowed to be anything else? Well, yes, Tsu is, so clearly there’s some form of allowance there. But for whom? Who’s the one who gets to say? Is there a process? Can it simply be declared? Does it need to be approved by someone else first? Can it simply be declined, can someone say ‘sorry, I don’t think so, back to being a boy you terminal fucking loser’, is it enough of an argument to simply enjoy wearing a girl’s school uniform and soft, comfy cardigan, to look in the mirror and feel like you’re finally looking back at yourself instead of a reflection, to cry your heart out at the very idea that this may mean something else, what if it doesn’t mean something else, what ifit’sjustfakeandgoesawayforeverandthere’snotreallyanyhappinesstobehadherewhatifit’sallaliewhatiftheyhatetheveryideaofitandrejectitandleavebecauseofthis-

“Midoriya.”

A voice, cutting through the clouds. The teen looks into the eyes of Asui Tsuyu, the one who had planted that very first seed, and croaks out something that may generously be interpreted as a response. It’s hard to speak, even without the sobbing from earlier.

“You don’t need permission to be a girl, kero. And even if you did, well, you’ve got mine, so there.”

Oh.

Well. She can trust Tsu.

Midoriya nods, and falls forward into her girlfriend’s arms. She feels three pairs of hands catching her, holding her close. It’s nice. This is nice. There’s four more voices behind her, but she can’t quite make out what they’re saying. She’ll worry about them in a moment; Iida, Shoto, Kirishima, and Mei will all understand if she doesn’t respond to them right away. Fully-fledged group cuddles will come later; for now, she wants Tsu, Ochako, and Toga, more than anything in the world. She’s glad this couch is so big, that she’s so small, that Toga’s old clothes smell like her and feel like a hug she can wear. Would it be weird to ask if she can keep them? That would probably be weird. She’s going to ask if she can keep them, just as soon as her brain is cooperating with her mouth enough to form coherent sentences again. She feels herself being shifted around a little, and when she looks up, it’s into Toga’s beautiful eyes. She’s in Ochako’s lap, tucked up under her chin, with Tsu behind her, massaging her shoulders. Toga’s got hold of one of her hands, and is kneading it gently with both thumbs. It’s relaxing. She turns to see the rest of her closest friends, giving them what she hopes is a reassuring smile. The other attendees of the party are giving them space for now, which she feels is extra nice of them - especially Mina, who’s clearly bursting with all sorts of questions. She’ll get her turn. Eventually.

It’s Kirishima who steps forward first, smoothing back her hair to kiss her gently on the forehead, causing her to let out a wet giggle. “All good, Mido-? Hm, can’t call ya that anymore. I’ll workshop it. How’s Green Bean for now?”

Midoriya nods, using her free hand to wipe away some of the tears. “S’fine. I’m alright, just… A lot to deal with. Could you grab me a drink, please?”

Kirishima grins that bright, toothy grin of his, patting her cheek gently and wiping away a few tears himself. “‘Course, Green Bean! Gotta keep my girl hydrated; I still think you picked up some kinda latent mutation from your mom with how much water you two lose when you cry.”

The redhead darts off to the snack table, and Shoto steps up to take his place. The bichromic boy doesn’t say anything at first, just crouching down a little to run tender fingers through her messy hair and scritch gently at her scalp. When he finally does speak, it’s to Ochako instead. “I am invoking our agreement.”

Huh? Their agreement to what?

He must notice the confusion on her face, because he graces her with a rare, tiny smile. “Ochako agreed to allow me to pay for a full salon treatment for her on the condition that you would get one too. As someone who is new to being a girl, you’ll want to do something new with your hair and makeup; it’s just something girls do - or so Fuyumi-onee tells me. So that means Ochako can’t say no to going, because she has to take you for your very first. Tsuyu too. They both fell right into my clever trap. It was, as Aizawa-sensei would say, a logical ruse of sorts. I had banked on you being willing to go along with it just to convince Ochako to let herself be pampered, but this was an unexpected - yet welcome - development. Also. Fair warning, because you are my best friend: Yaoyorozu already wanted to help upgrade your wardrobe when we take Toga shopping, and she is very likely to become very excited to have a whole new angle in feminizing your clothing selection. Best of luck with that.”

Shoto steps aside in favour of Iida, and the taller boy pushes up his glasses and simply looks at her for a long moment. Before the silence can reach a point of tension, he breaks it with his usual flare. “I know that at times I can come across as conservative in my beliefs, but I wish to reassure you that my horizons have been expanded over the time we have known each other, and to reassure you that I am not the type of traditionalist who would be so crass as to disrespect this change in your life, Midoriya!” His arm-chops are subdued, but emphatic. “You are still the same person I made friends with, no matter what! If being a girl is the correct fit for you, then a girl you shall be from this day forward! Not to be presumptuous, but I assume you will be changing your given name, and I request that you let me know when you have selected a new one so that I may update the class roster to correctly reflect it! If you wish, I will also disseminate these changes into the group chat, so that everyone may update your contact information in their phones!”

Oh, right, she forgot that there’s a group chat. She’d been added by Mina at one point or another after receiving a smartphone from the school’s replacement program, but had just muted it and left it alone, busy as she was at the time. “Thanks, Iida, I appreciate it a lot. I think it’s finally time to use the chat actively, so I’ll handle that part, but I’ll make sure you know my new name for the roster - and any other official things you can think of to change it on.”

The boy offers a stiff bow, slowly and carefully making his way back over to the loveseat holding his girlfriend and metamour, who help him ease back into the corner of the seat. Poor guy must’ve strained himself too much for the day.

Mei, for her part, flops contentedly onto the floor in front of the sofa, conveniently getting in the way of anyone else who may want to approach, which Midoriya is quietly thankful for. “I’m gonna update your outfit! Come by the lab some time soon; we can also talk about relationship stuff if you want to bring Froggy, Mochi, and Toga.” Her piece said, she pulls out a grease-stained notebook - Midoriya doesn’t miss that it’s the same brand she uses for her Quirk analysis series - and begins idly doodling what look to be new adaptations for her Hero outfit. Is that a ballgown? Why would that be a ballgown? She’s absolutely not wearing a ballgown out on patrol, that’s ridiculous! … Okay, maybe she’ll keep that idea tucked away in the back of her mind for something like a charity gala. It does look pretty.

Much to everyone’s surprise, but especially to Midoriya’s, Bakugo shoves himself out of his seat to make an announcement, glowering at the rest of the class and the handful of other guests. “I know I’m not one to talk, but if that bugs you you can go fuck yourself about it. I’m only gonna say this once, so everyone clean the shit out of your ears.” He pauses to sweep his tooth-cracking snarl across the room. “If anyone, and I mean anyone, disrespects Midoriya’s gender, I’m gonna personally put them in the fucking hospital, assuming they don’t go right to the fucking morgue instead. No ifs, ands, or fuckin’ buts about it, understand? That goes for all the puddle-drinking goddamn extras in 1-B too, so make a fucking note, Lizardy. If that grease-stained fuckwit Phantom Bitch opens his goddamn mouth, I’m gonna blow his teeth down his throat, so you and McFistfuck better keep him in line, because I don’t give a single shitting fuck about getting expelled over this. Everyone got it?”

The whole room nods along, and Bakugo’s responding one is sharp. “You’d fucking better. I treated her like she was the scum off my boots for years, and that’s on me. I’ll be spending the rest of my miserable, undeserved life trying to make that up to her. I want each and every one of you to think long and hard about what could’ve happened if she hadn’t been there at the USJ - or at camp. I was good as fucking dead until someone saved my worthless ass as a favour to her. We all owe her big time. So, fucking. Don’t be me. Be fucking better than I was.”

With that, he shoves his fists into his pockets and storms off, already out of the room and headed to the boy’s dorms before Midoriya can even call out to him. To call such an outburst unexpected would be a severe understatement; she hadn’t even realized Bakugo felt that way about her, or the way he’d treated her. The scars on her back tingle slightly as Tsu’s fingers work around them, and the tops of her thighs begin to itch. Abuse is a hell of a thing, and she’s really not sure how to feel about any of this - too many things going on all at once, too many feelings clouding her mind. She knows one thing for sure, though: she won’t approach him about it. If Bakugo wants to try and make amends for everything he did to her, for all the scars and missed sleep and suicide attempts, he’s going to have to put in the effort to come and talk to her about it, not just make grand gestures that are ultimately meaningless in terms of making her feel safe around him. She turns her gaze to Toga again, seeing something sharp in the girl’s eyes, and knows that Bakugo isn’t the only one to feel defensive over her. It’s… Warm, she decides, having someone like Toga on her side. Feeling bold, Midoriya gently takes her hand back, turns, and repositions herself so her torso is in Ochako’s lap, her legs in Tsu’s, and her head in Toga’s. Kirishima returns with a foamy glass of something or other, a horrifically sweet concoction likely of his own making, taking up a position on the floor by Mei after grabbing Shoto to use as a plushie once more. The bichromic boy seems stoically resigned to his fate, which gets a laugh out of everyone on the couch. The only thing missing from the cozy sofa get-together at the party is Iida; forever on their periphery, but still within their sphere. She resolves to spend some more time with him soon.

“O~kay!” The quiet is shattered, unable to stand against the sheer exuberance of Ashido Mina, who raises a hand in the air to get everyone’s attention. “It’s now time for the best part of the party! Pilfered directly from the collection of our finest resident media dork,” she gives an exaggerated wink to Midoriya, who rolls her eyes in return, “we have for your viewing pleasure a wonderful selection of pre-Quirk era films by none other than the one! The only! The absolutely ledge! End! Daaaaiiiiry! Studio Ghibli!”

A wave of cheers goes up from the group, with everyone hastily rearranging their seats from the loose circle made for truth or dare to face the huge TV on the farthest wall of the common area. The couch claimed by Midoriya’s group is already pointed in that direction, and so they settle in to watch as the opening to Kiki’s Delivery Service begins to play. Gentle hands run gentle touches all along Midorya’s body as she lays there, and nothing could make her feel more loved. Even Mei reaches up at some point or another to brush the hard-calloused tips of her fingers against the inside of her arm, causing her to shiver slightly. It’s almost enough to make her drift off to sleep, and she nearly does until something tickling the back of her brain makes her jump slightly, twisting around to look over the back of the couch where she spots Aizawa looming. The man appears to be watching the movie, but he does glance her way, running his eyes over her and raising a single, inquisitive brow. Shit, that’s right, she’s still in Toga’s clothes!

“Anything I need to be worried about?” the Pro signs, fingers flicking rapidly. “Bullying?”

Midoriya shakes her head, freeing up her hands to sign back. “No, nobody’s being mean. We played truth or dare, but. Well, we should probably talk about this later. For now, just call me Midoriya, okay?”

The raised brow furrows slightly, and he blinks the kind of blink she knows means he’s caught on to something. “Got it. I’ll inform the rest of the staff to drop your given name for now. Rest is at your own pace, problem child.”

“Thanks.”

Aizawa slouches off, disappearing as quickly and quietly as he’d appeared, allowing Midoriya to turn her attention back to the movie. While it’s not her favourite Ghibli film - that would have to be Princess Mononoke - it’s still very enjoyable, and she’s glad she can share the fruits of the Collective’s labours in preserving it with her friends. As it draws to a close and Mina queues up My Neighbour Totoro, a thought crosses her mind and she sits up carefully from her perch, kissing each of her girlfriends and nuzzling her nose against Toga’s. “Be back in a minute; I wanna go call my mom.”

Stepping carefully around Mei and Kirishima, she ruffles Shoto’s hair as she goes, drawing a grunt of mild irritation, laying a hand on Iida’s shoulder before dancing past him and out into the hallway that leads to the boy’s dorms. As she punches in the password to unlock her phone, it occurs to her that she may end up needing to move from her current room, seeing as she’s not a boy anymore. Something to take up with Aizawa and probably Nedzu, but later. Before she can press call, she gets that same feeling at the back of her mind again and turns, noticing a slight shimmer in the air, which speaks.

“Midoriya, can we... Can we talk for a minute?”

“Hagakure-san? Listen, can it wait until later? I was just about to-”

Hagakure drops her invisibility, the strangely-coloured girl leaning forward with her hands on her hips. “Now, itoko.”

Midoriya winces. She hasn’t felt like a cousin these last several months. “I thought you weren’t going to call me that here?”

The other girl huffs, puffing out her cheeks and shaking her iridescent blonde hair out of her eyes. “I’m making an exception. Come on, itoko, can you just let me have my say?”

“You do remember we’re not actually related, right?”

A grimace crosses Hagakure’s face at that, and Midoriya can’t help but feel a little satisfied. “Okay, okay, I get it! You’re mad.”

“Do you get it though, Hagakure-san?” She leans against the wall, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “You hurt me, Hagakure-san. And now you think you get to just call me your cousin again? I mean, I appreciate that you didn’t use my old name or anything, but you can’t act like nothing happened between us.”

“Stop calling me that!” The girl stomps her foot, pouting mightily. “Come on, please just. Call me Niji, like you used to!”

“Things aren’t like they used to be, Hagakure-san,” Midoriya retorts, deliberately emphasizing the girl’s family name. “And whose idea was that, hm? Who told me to act like I didn’t know her? I respected that, because I respected you, even if you didn’t respect me back. Not enough to let me be excited that my only real friend for so many years got into UA right beside me, just like we both dreamed of. No, all you cared about was your precious image! You couldn’t stand the idea of people knowing where you came from. Couldn’t let yourself be associated with Deku, now could you?”

“That’s not fair!” Hagakure’s sniffling by now, but Midorya can’t muster up the energy to care that much. “I never meant it like that! It wasn’t about you. I just. I thought if people knew about how I grew up, they’d hate me. Or worse, they’d pity me. I know I asked you to act like we weren’t close while we were at school, but I didn’t expect to be living here! I wanted you to keep your distance, not abandon me completely! I never wanted us to be like-”

“Don’t.” The whisper of Midoriya’s voice carries a sharp edge and a hint of threat. “Don’t go there. You don’t get to say that, not to me. If this is how you’re going to act, I’m leaving.”

“Wait!”

“I’m done waiting, Hagakure-san. Look, I’ll make you a deal. You want to go back to who we were before we got our acceptance letters?” Hagakure nods eagerly, wiping messily at her eyes. “Then here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to come clean to all of our friends. You’re going to put on your big girl pants and stop lying to everyone about who you are. Do you really think anyone’s going to care that you grew up in social housing? That these are the people who would judge you because your parents abandoned you as a child?” She holds up a hand to ward off interruption. “I know you’re scared. But you had your chance to do this with me right beside you, and you decided not to take it. We spent a third of our lives knowing one another, Hagakure-san, and you ran away from that, from me, because you were scared. All those years telling you to run towards me when you were frightened, right out the window when the going got tough. If you want me to be your itoko again, if you want to be my Niji again, you’ve got to face those fears and move past them, because I’m done hiding. From my friends, from my family, from myself. You’re not invisible anymore, Hagakure-san. Start fucking acting like it.”

She can hear the other girl fall to the floor as she walks away, slipping into her dorm room, but she’s past the point of letting it bother her. Memories of the time the two had spent together flit through her mind, but she pushes them aside. Niji had never responded to a gentle touch, so maybe this will be enough to get through to her. If not, well. Midoriya has friends who aren’t ashamed of her now. And that’s enough.

Chapter Text

Falling bonelessly onto her bed, Midoriya groans into her pillow, kicking her feet and allowing herself just a tiny bit of a tantrum. Stupid Hagakure. She had damn well better take that offer! It’s probably more than she deserves, but it’s not like she’s willing to just totally give up on the girl - she wouldn’t have put all that effort into studying her Quirk if she was. Rolling onto her back, she recalls why she’d stepped away from the party in the first place, and pulls out her phone to dial her mom’s number. It’s Inko’s day off, and she shouldn’t be sleeping right now, so it’s as good a time as any to make the call. After a few rings, the other end of the line clicks open, and a warm, gentle voice washes over her.

“Hi sweetie! I didn’t expect you to call; normally you text unless it’s something important. Are things going alright with Toga?”

“Hi mom! Yeah, Toga’s fine, she’s settling in well so far. There’s a couple of things I wanted to tell you about, and I thought it would be better to actually talk to you, even if I can’t come home and do it face-to-face. I promise we can do that soon though! I’m going to make time to stop by the hospital with Toga in the next couple days so you can meet her, okay?”

“Oh, my little Izuku, always such a gentleman!”

She can’t help how that makes her flinch. She takes a deep breath, intending to come clean right away, but something else springs from her mouth first. “Hagakure is a bitch.”

She hears a whoop of laughter on the other end of the phone and lets out a wry chuckle of her own. “Oh, now where have I heard that before! She still giving you trouble about knowing one another?”

“Yes,” she groans, throwing an arm over her eyes. “You would think that five years of friendship, of her calling me itoko, would mean something to her! Words are cheap, though; actions are what matter.”

“My goodness, has it been five years already? How time flies! I still remember when you stumbled through the door, clutching a floating shirt and shorts like they were going to soar away on you! I had been worried sick, but there you were, chattering on about a girl with ‘the coolest Quirk I’ve ever seen, mom!’, making me call up… Gosh, what was his name?”

“Narita,” she supplies, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I had just gotten him that job at the ministry office a few weeks before, ‘cause Uncle Masaru had been volunteering there and said they had a position open. He’s head of the whole prefecture now, did you hear?”

“Is he? Good for him! Anyway, getting her out of that godawful foster placement and into her place down the block was the best thing that ever happened to little Toru, and she knows it. You spent all that time checking in with her whenever you could, making sure her home schooling was up to snuff, being her friend… But she always was a tough customer. Couldn’t take yes for an answer, could she? She loved you, though.”

“Past tense.”

“Izuku,” her mom scolds, making her flinch again. “Darling, you know better, I know you do. She’s never been very good at showing her real feelings, just like you’ve never been good at not taking her bait. You’re upset with her, and I understand that completely. You have every right to be angry that she wanted to treat you like a stranger. But remember why you two became friends to begin with, alright? Scratch your mad spot, tell her off like she needs, and then give her a great big hug from her Auntie Inko.”

She sighs heavily, scrunching her face in distaste. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I’m always right, dear, I’m your mother. Now, what did you really call me to talk about?”

Right. She’d called to talk about… Yeah. Well. Here goes nothing.

“So, uh. Hm. Where do I even start? Well. Um. First, I guess, my name? I. Know you like Izuku, but it. Doesn’t really fit anymore.”

She hears silence on the other end of the line, and then, “well. What should I call you now, dear?”

“Ah. I’m… Still working on that? I mean, I’m kind of just going by Midoriya at school for now, but that would sound silly coming from you, right? But I still like that name! Honestly it’s the only worthwhile thing dad ever gave me. I just. I can’t go by a boy’s name anymore. For now, I guess… Damn it, I’m sorry, I didn’t think this part through!”

“Sweetie, take a deep breath. It’s alright. How about… What’s that silly thing Kevin calls you, gysahl? No, no, I’m afraid I’m too old for that. Oh, goodness me. Oh! How about… Green Bean?”

That gets a snort of laughter and a tiny fit of giggles. “Oh gosh! Kirishima came up with the exact same thing.”

“I knew that boy had good taste! Really, how haven’t you asked him out yet?”

“Mom! We are not talking about my love life!”

“Oh, are we not? Because I feel like my daughter deserves the best! What about Hatsume, what’s going on with her, hm?”

Her daughter. That’s right, she’s Inko’s daughter now. And the woman herself had been the one to say it, meaning it’s not just indulging her in a silly whim. “Things with Mei are still complicated. I think we’re all going to sit down and talk about it in the next couple days. Also, I might be dating Toga now? I dunno, I left the room for a bit, and when I came back Tsu had her and Ochako-chan squished together like Tangle Buddies. We all got a bit distracted from there, cause that’s when I figured things out with, y’know. Gender stuff.”

“Look at you go! This time last year I thought you’d be all on your lonesome until Mama Nya finally got to you with one of her girls, and now you’re in such a big polycule! I have to admit, my little Bean, your mother is a touch jealous!”

No. Nope, no, absolutely not. “Okay, moving things right along.” Inko laughs. “We’ve got some down time for a while, back to regular classes. I should be able to come home and visit soon, and I’ll bring the girls with me. Actually, maybe we should do a big get-together, what do you think?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, dear. I’d love to see Shoto, Kirishima, and Iida again. He’s holding up well, right?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty stable. Still getting used to not being ‘Mister Get Up and Go’; I’m sure he’ll be okay though. I’ll tell everyone you said hi.”

“Alright, my Green Bean, I’ll let you go. Love you many!” Ugh, that silly phrase she’d gotten stuck on as a toddler.

“Love you too mom. Bye.”

With a click, the line goes dead, and Midoriya forces herself to roll out of bed and back to her feet, stashing her phone in the pocket of Toga’s old cardigan. Gosh this thing is comfy. She pauses by the door, looking at herself in the full-length mirror, and does a little spin to cause her skirt to flare out. It feels good in a way that she still can’t describe, and just a little bit of her worries melt away. She gazes at herself with a critical eye, tugging here and there at her messy locks and poking at her skin. She definitely needs that spa day; maybe they’ll have someone on staff who can help her with all of… This. She may even elect to have some of her scars removed. Anything beyond that is a matter for a much later date, though; she’s only just coming to accept herself, so it’s definitely too soon to be thinking about things like hormones or surgery, right? … Right?

Whatever.

She steps out of her room, carefully locking the door behind her, and turns to go back to the party and to her cozy puddle of girlfriends. Her worries from earlier come back in full force, though, when she spots Hagakure still slumped in the middle of the hall where she’d left the girl after their little spat. All kinds of thoughts run through her head, seeing the dead-eyed stare on her old friend’s face, and she stiffens her back, coming to the kind of decision nobody else knows the girl well enough to make. Striding forward confidently, she stoops, hooks her arms under Hagakure’s torso, and tosses the girl over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. This draws a surprised squeal and a babble of protests she firmly ignores, hauling her back to the common room at a sharp clip. As she approaches the seats, she makes a beeline for Yaomomo, dumping the still-shouting girl in her lap unceremoniously.

“Here, take one of these and call me in the morning.”

The dark-haired beauty looks up at her in askance, but she just shrugs and gestures to Hagakure, returning to her own group on the couch. At some point during her absence, Shoto has fallen asleep in Kirishima’s lap, Ochako and Tsu have snuggled up tight with one another, and poor Toga has been left to fend for herself against Mei. Judging by the hungry grin on the latter’s face and the high-temperature blush on the former’s, something saucy has gone down, so it’s time for Midoriya to come to the rescue. Much like Hagakure, the pink-haired pest is scooped up from the floor and dumped onto the couch to lean against one of the arms, Midoriya planting herself firmly between the inventor and the vampire with a huff.

“Mei.”

“Greenie.” There’s a sense of smug satisfaction in Mei’s voice, but not even a hint of malice, which is good.

“You alright, Toga?”

“I was um.” She stumbles cutely over her words, and Midorya’s grin is definitely, one hundred percent internal, because laughing at Toga out loud would be rude. “I was not expectin’ such a frank discussion of everyone’s kinks. I mean I guess I shoulda been, seein’ as she flashed her tits to th’whole dang room, but. Damn. What is it with you and eyes?”

It’s Midoriya’s turn to turn beet red, drawing a cackle from her other side. She swats at Mei, who just laughs even harder. “Listen!”

“Oh, I’m listenin’!”

Menaces. Menaces, the both of them. She sighs, put upon as she is by the two who seem to be getting along a little too well all of a sudden. “It’s. Quirks, okay?”

Mei’s laughter dissolves into a fit of quiet giggles, and Toga tilts her head, blinking inquisitively. “Quirks. You have a Quirk fetish. Oh dear kami, that explains so much about you.”

“You hush your face! Not like I even have to ask yours; I can feel it when you bite me.”

“Oh, that’s not all,” Mei interjects, stifling her laughs. “Tusi here has a blood kink, sure, but I managed to get something else out of her~!”

Toga goes an even deeper shade of red, shaking her head. “Mei. Mei don’t you dare. Mei.”

“What, don’t want your girlfriend knowing that you’re into-”

“Mei. Shush up, kero.”

Tsu to the rescue, it would seem. Though from the light dusting of pink on the frog-girl’s cheeks, it would seem she had definitely overheard whatever embarrassing thing had been drawn out of Toga. Well, she’s okay with being in the dark for now; she can always figure out a way to get it out of Toga when they’re alone. Feeling bolder than ever, she leans up and plants a kiss on the blonde’s cheek, then leans the other way to give Mei one as well. Feeling smugly satisfied now herself, she pulls out her phone and begins making a list of people who need to be told about her transition, lamenting that she hadn’t thought to grab a notebook either time she’d been in her room. Her mom was settled, Aizawa had been sort of informed but would need a proper explanation, Kevin could be surprised when the class went to the mall, telling the Sentinel would be polite and would make an easy way to disseminate the information to the rest of the Collective at large, and… And Toshinori, of course. He’s been doing well enough, considering the circumstances, able to sit up and talk, even going a few hours a day without his ventilator. He should be the first stop.

The movie continues to play in the background as Midoriya finishes up her list, tucking her phone away once more and eyeing the friends surrounding her. Ochako is nestled comfortably on top of Tsu, occasionally turning to kiss her on the cheek and corner of her mouth, drawing tiny croaks of satisfaction. Shoto’s quiet snores alternate between puffs of steam and miniscule snowflakes from his lips, covering him in a light mist that Kirishima absently wipes from his face every so often, attention focused mostly on the movie. Iida seems to have found himself half-curled into Komori, who’s playing with his hair, while Tokage dutifully applies a medicated cream to his surgical scars, both hands split into a dozen floating parts and tenderly attending to him. Yaomomo is mumbling something into the empty space above a floating blouse. Hagakure seems to be upset, judging by the flickering light dancing along the outline of her skin, as if she can’t hold her Quirk steady. Mina has stretched herself out across Denki, Sero, and Aoyama’s beanbags, keeping a quiet running commentary on the story going. Kyoka, Shoji, and Tokoyami seem to be missing, but they’re probably grabbing snacks. Koda’s got his head resting on Sato’s shoulder, a pairing she’s still surprised by - they may not be dating, but they’re certainly cuddlebuddies. It’s cute. After a few minutes of looking restless, Ojiro gets up and heads in the direction of the boy’s dorms, possibly to go find Bakugo.

Satisfied that everyone is accounted for, Midoriya grabs Mei, tilting to the side and pulling the mechanic over as she falls into Toga’s lap, Mei’s head coming to rest on her calves. She can feel Toga bounce a little as the girl giggles, reaching down to carefully and cautiously card her fingers through the greenette’s hair, as if she’s not sure she’s allowed. Midoriya murmurs contentedly, and the last thing she sees before drifting off to sleep is Ochako sitting up long enough to kiss Toga’s other cheek. All is well, and as it should be. The few troubles that disrupt the group’s harmony are being handled, and the time is ripe to add another member to the family. As she sleeps, she dreams: of a boy with a hard Quirk and a soft heart. Of a boy whose icy demeanour is finally melting. Of a boy who can no longer run faster than his demons. Of a girl with a firm sense of self and a bold sense of love. Of a girl with an easy smile and a warm touch. Of a girl with sharp teeth, bared to the world as if daring anyone to try and take the happiness she’d struggled so hard to find. Of herself, long green hair flowing along with her laughter. Surrounded by those who love her most, sitting beneath a torii with her hand outstretched in welcome. Perhaps this is a dream of things to come, perhaps it’s merely her own mind showing her what she desires. No matter which it is, Midoriya sleeps and dreams, safe and secure in the hands and hearts of the ones she chose, and who chose her back.

Chapter Text

Two weeks. That’s how long it has taken for Toga Himiko to get bored with her lessons. It had been exciting at first, getting to go through all the different evaluations to determine where her knowledge pool was at - she hadn’t stopped learning completely after all; libraries were a good place for an unattended child to spend the day without suspicion - but once it came down to actual structured classes? Boring! She would much rather pursue things in smaller chunks spread out across the day, moving from one to the next as her whims took her, but it would be kinda rude to expect her teachers to go along with it. On the bright side, she’s doing well, and it’s looking like she’ll be caught up to a high school equivalent just in time for the school year to close out, meaning she won’t be left behind when Class 1-A moves into their second year! Assuming she keeps up, at least; she can’t afford to slack off just because she’s off to such a good start. Even if she hates the very concept of homework with all of her soul. Besides, she has Midoriya to help her if she ever has trouble! Tokage hadn’t been kidding when she’d called the girl the smartest person in the whole school, and Toga had been shocked at just how broad her knowledge base is - and more importantly, her ability to break down even complex subjects into more manageable explanations for her classmates. 1-A is, to hear some say it, on track to become the class with the highest overall scores in the history of the school. And it’s all thanks to Midoriya’s brilliance, though the girl still denies it.

For all her academic genius, however, Midoriya struggles with her Quirk, and in particular using its overwhelming strength safely. She’s not breaking bones these days, but it has become difficult for her to fight in a team effectively, and even a moment’s loss of focus can cause massive property damage. Which is why she’s currently in extra combat classes with the rest of the Fab Five - minus Iida, who was spectating - and poor Toga has been left all alone waiting for the greenette to return to her room. She’d agreed not to snoop too much, but it’s such a drag to wait for her girlfriend with nothing at all to do! She’s not in the mood to socialize with the rest of the class, who are currently having a Mario Kart tournament in the common room, and having already spent the whole day with her head in a book, she doesn’t feel like reading either. Maybe she’ll draw? Midoriya had said she wouldn’t mind if Toga used one of her blank notebooks and some pencils. But, she also hadn’t told her where they were, so it looks like she’ll need to do at least a bit of snooping. The most obvious place to start is her desk; the only notebooks on top of it are being used, but there’s probably some in the drawer, and she doubts Midoriya is the type to keep anything in there that she wouldn’t want Toga to see - that’s all under the bed, which she had been explicitly told not to root around beneath.

Hopping up from her place on the bed, she slides open the drawer and lets out a quiet cheer when she sees a small stack of notebooks still in plastic from the store, as well as a set of fresh pencils. As she grabs one, though, something else catches her eye. It’s a small puzzle box, made of metal with a dark, coal-fired patina. There are several different things to solve, one on each side, ranging from a small maze that doesn't have a peg to a series of buttons that won’t depress. Setting the notebook aside, she grabs this instead, turning it over in her hands. What an odd coincidence that she’s got the same type of puzzle box that Toga had had as a child - indeed, the very one that had been her final birthday gift before she ran away. It’ll be fun to see if she still remembers how to do it. She brings it back over to the bed, leans against the wall, and turns it over in her hands, wracking her brain for the way to get it started. Oh, that’s right! She turns it over so the maze is against her palm, then tosses it into the air with a clockwise spin. She repeats this motion three times, inverts it, and gives it a single firm shake, allowing herself a satisfied laugh when she depresses the smallest button and feels it pop out, revealing the peg for the maze. She slots it in place, moving it along the path to the end, which allows her to depress another button and reveal a second tool, this one to screw off one of the corner plates. This continues for a while, with each successive solve either unveiling a new tool or unlocking a new puzzle, until finally she’s able to depress the large button on the face and the treasure chamber clicks open.

Normally these sorts of toys have some kind of token or knick-knack to display, showing that you’ve completed the challenge, but this one is odd. She can remember a small replica of an ancient koban in hers, but it was in the compartment by itself rather than in a small drawstring bag like this one, and it certainly didn’t have a note attached. Curious, she unrolls the tiny scroll.

‘Toga,

Give this to Midoriya, tell her where you found it. Stay by her side, whatever comes next. I have done all I can, the rest is up to you.

- West’

Well that’s… Weird. There’s a nagging itch at the back of her mind that tells her it’s important, though, so she tucks the note and bag into her pocket for safekeeping, pulling her phone from the other when she feels it buzz. Speak of the devil, it’s a text from Midoriya!

‘Cm 2 cmnrm if u wanna c smthn funny’

Hard to pass up an invitation like that. She slips out of Midoriya’s room and down the hall, towards a sudden ruckus, and spots the source as soon as she gets to the common area: Uraraka Ochako dangling several feet in the air, upside down, with Tsuyu’s tongue wrapped around her ankles. Midoriya and the other members of the Fab Five watch on, with expressions ranging from Shoto’s flat bemusement to Iida’s incensed arm-chopping.

“Tsuyu-san! I must insist that you set her down! This is a very unbecoming display!”

“Not until Ochako gives me what I want. Confess your sins, kero.”

“Never! Death before dishonour!” The brunette isn’t actually trying very hard to escape, even giving Toga a jaunty wave as she approaches.

Forgetting the puzzle and note for a moment, Toga flops onto the couch and kisses Midorya on the cheek, leaning into Kirishima’s hair ruffling. “What’s goin’ on, babe, did Ochako-chan steal Tsu’s panties again?”

“That was one time! One time! And don’t make me sound like a pervert, I was wearin’ em!”

“How’s that make you sound less like a pervert?”

Midoriya’s gentle laughter is soothing for the soul, as she’s sure the rest of the group will agree, and she returns the kiss with one of her own. “Not this time. Apparently, Ochako-chan said something embarrassing to Tsu when she met me, and Tsu’s been trying to get her to admit it. Hang in there, Mochi~!”

“Traitor, kero!” Tsuyu makes a face at Midoriya, then waves Ochako around slightly. “Alright, time to break out the big guns. Kirishima, tickle her.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

It turns out he would dare, in fact, because he flexes his fingers and stalks towards the dangling girl with a silly grin, tugging her shirt down just enough to expose her midriff as he begins tickling her ribs lightly.

“Nyooo! Ahahaha, cut it out! Alright, I yield, I yield! Show her the dang messages, you monster!”

Dropping her girlfriend unceremoniously in Kirishima’s arms, Tsuyu fishes her phone from her pocket and pulls up a private chat with Ochako, searching for the date she wants before turning it towards Midoriya. Ever curious, Toga peeks over the greenette’s shoulder and nearly falls off the couch laughing when she reads the messages that had started this whole thing.

CutestMomonga: Tsuuuuuyuuuuu
CutestMomonga: I saw
CutestMomonga: THE cutest softest butch girl
CutestMomonga: On GOD I am so gay
PikkiIRL: Give me all the details when the practicals are done kero.
CutestMomonga: Have I mentioned how cute it is
CutestMomonga: That you transcribe your ribbits
PikkiIRL: At least once a week. Now focus, Ochako-chan!
PikkiIRL: Hey, practicals are over, where are you? I’m heading out soon.
CutestMomonga: Cute Soft Butch saved my life!!!!
CutestMomonga: Will give u deets l8r I’m fine
CutestMomonga: She’s in the nurse’s office
PikkiIRL: You’d better be fine or I’m going to kill you myself kero.
CutestMomonga: I HECKED UP
CutestMomonga: I HECKED UP SO BAD
CutestMomonga: I FEEL LIKE A MORON TSU!!!!!!!!
PikkiIRL: Breathe.
CutestMomonga: CUTE SOFT BUTCH WAS A BOY ABORT LESBIANISM
PikkiIRL: uploaded 1singleyike.png
PikkiIRL: It’s a good thing you’re bi anyways kero.

Midoriya’s face has turned an absolutely fascinating shade, and she passes Tsuyu’s phone back wordlessly before burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered that you thought I was a girl or offended that you thought I was butch.”

“In my defense I barely knew you!” Ochako’s adorable gigglesnorts are enough to make Toga swoon, and she knows Midoriya feels the same. “Now I know you’re like, ultra femme! Speakin’ of which, we still gotta get to the mall so we can get you hooked up with new clothes!”

The greenette nuzzles into the collar of Toga’s old cardigan, sighing contentedly. “Yeah… Soon, I promise! Got my schedule cleared up for the rest of the month, and I’ve been taking it easy so I’ll be plenty rested. Yaomomo’s insisting on limousines, so once I get everyone else’s schedules checked out we’ll coordinate!”

“I should have thought of that,” Shoto bemoans in his usual flat affect, “Yaoyorozu has one-upped me on being wealthy once again. I’ll have to figure out a way to get back at her. Perhaps a catered lunch.”

The group falls into a comfortable chatter, discussing their recent training exercises - with Toga chiming in that she’ll be cleared to join in about a month or so, once her malnutrition treatments are finished - as well as which shops at the mall the class intends to take them to. Just as things are getting settled in and the talk turns to dinner, Toga remembers the unusual contents of her pocket and pulls them out. This has the unexpected effect of completely killing all discussion as Midoriya takes the small bag from her with shaky hands, staring intently at it. Which begins to make perfect sense as she explains just who West is and where the puzzle box had come from.

“- can’t believe that this whole time it was just. Waiting for you. Okay, okay, focus! Shit, uh. The hospital. No time to take the trains, damn it, okay. Iida!”

“I have already called the medical transport,” the boy in the wheelchair replies, flipping his brakes and spinning about. “They will be at the helipad shortly!”

Midoriya jumps up and runs over to one of the security cameras, waving at it frantically until it turns towards her. “Principal Nedzu, we’re heading to Central Hospital! I’ve got the thing for All Might!”

The red light on the camera blinks twice, and Midoriya leaps back, grabbing her bag and sprinting towards the elevator. Toga can’t do anything but follow, feeling the burning need to keep by her girlfriend’s side as the note had instructed. The group makes a mad dash as a whole through the series of corridors that connect to the rooftop helipad, Kirishima pushing Iida’s wheelchair at a dangerous speed. Toga only barely understands what’s going on amongst all the chaos, but she can’t help feeling exhilarated. They’re going to see the All Might! And save his life somehow! She’d missed out on being able to go with Midoriya when the girl had made the trip to talk about her transition, wanting to keep it a private affair with her mentor, but now she’s gonna get to be a hero! The very idea of it makes her giddy, and she smiles broadly as she and Midoriya come to a halt at the edge of the pickup zone, panting from exertion.

“Iida, did they say when they were going to get here? … Iida?” The greenette turns, and the scream that rips from her throat will haunt Toga for a long, long time to come.

“IIDA!”

Toga spins, watching in horror as the boy in the wheelchair, one of her beloved’s closest friends, vomits another gout of blood. He’s covered in the stuff, it’s soaking out from under his shirt and between his hands and for the very first time in her life it makes Toga afraid. She hears the medevac helicopter approaching, and that’s the only thing that keeps her mind from snapping as her friends-family-loves crowd around their injured comrade, shouting and calling out to him. She sees the boy grab desperately at Midoriya’s arm, pulling her in close and whispering something into her ear before slumping forward, unconscious.

Something has gone terribly wrong. And Toga can do nothing but stay by Midoriya’s side. And pray.

Chapter Text

“No matter what, give the cure to All Might. Don’t you dare waste it on me. The world needs him.”

Those were the words Iida Tenya had hissed into Midoriya’s ear as he sat on the rooftop, bleeding profusely from his suddenly-reopened wounds. It had been a frantic scramble to get him onto the medevac helicopter, but thankfully the hospital had a policy of sending EMS units along even if it was just being used for transit. They’d gotten him on board, staunched the worst of the bleeding, and hooked him up to a blood transfusion before racing back to the hospital and directly into surgery. The six friends have nothing to do but wait for word as the private medical team in the employ of Mighty Agency - and thereby Midoriya herself, at least for the moment - do their work. The waiting room feels too large, too empty to Midoriya, even with so many of her family there. Team Iidaten’s Agency had been alerted to the emergency, but they were in the middle of a raid all the way out in Fukuoka - even if they could be located, it would take several more hours after that to get them to Central Hospital. The rest of 1-A had been informed of the incident as well, but were strictly prohibited by Aizawa from rushing to the hospital for fear of overcrowding. When Tokage and Komori were told, the latter had apparently had a mental breakdown; the details were unclear, but the end result was that neither could be there to see their beloved. No, it was just the six of them, as it so often was.

“Midoriya? What are you doing here?”

Looking up from where she’s sandwiched between Kirishima and Toga, the greenette wipes her eyes, giving a tiny half-wave to the lanky, gaunt man standing in the doorway to the waiting room. “Hello Mirai-san. I, ah. Well, we were coming to see Toshi, and. You remember my friend Iida, right? His wounds, they um.”

She can’t find the words to speak, but thankfully she doesn’t need to as Ochako takes over. “Our friend Iida was injured during Stain’s attack in Hosu. We were coming to see Yagi-sensei, to deliver the cure, when suddenly his wounds all opened back up at once. He’s in surgery right now. We haven’t heard anything, but it was. It was bad.”

“Stars above, I’m so sorry.” The former Sidekick-turned-Pro drops into one of the nearby chairs, legs akimbo and head lolling back. “Things have been a mess here, and-” His head suddenly snaps up, knocking his glasses askew, a startled look on his face. “Wait, did you say you were here with the cure?!”

Midoriya nods, taking the small drawstring bag from her pocket. “It was Toga. She got the box open, and this was inside. It’s… It’ll save him. But maybe. Maybe it could save Iida too? Well, no. Not too. Instead. It can’t be used twice. It’s Iida or Toshi.”

The room goes silent. Everything about the situation is fucked up, and the weight of how awful things are settles over them all like a dense fog. She’d already talked it over with her friends, telling them the boy’s final words to her, and none of them had been able to come to a conclusion. It was too much, all too much, but such was the life they all aspired to: sometimes, Heroes had to make the call to save one life over another. They’d all faced it - though ironically, Toga was the only among them who wasn’t a killer - but it had never been a choice between two friends. Even for Midoriya.

And then Mirai opens his mouth and makes everything worse.

“Midoriya, I. This is a horrible, awful time to have to tell you this. I was going to call you, that’s what I came out here to do. Toshinori, he. He had a heart attack.” Midoriya feels her blood go cold, and panic grip her chest. “He found out some very shocking news, and it was just too much for him. He’s. There’s nothing the doctors can do.”

Oh. She’s losing them both. Right now, this very minute, she’s losing them both. She has to choose, one way or another, and she’s running out of time. She has to choose. It has to be one of them or the other, and it has t o be rig h t now o r they’re b oth goin g to die a nd shewouldhavefailedandallofthepainshewentthroughtogetthecurewillhavebeenfornothingand Iidatoldhertherightchoicetomakebutshewouldhavetolethimdieandshewouldlosehimhewouldbegoneandtherewouldbenothingelseshecoulddo-

“You’re hiding something.”

Toga’s voice cuts through the fog in Midoriya’s brain, ice-cold and sharp as a knife.

“I’m sure I do not know what you are talking about, Toga.” It’s a lie, of course it’s a lie. It’s so obvious that even she can see it, through the tears in her eyes.

“Do not.” Toga’s voice is a growl, and she shrugs Midoriya’s hand off her shoulder, slowly rising to her feet and wrapping her hand white-knuckled around the handle of the knife strapped to her hip. “Do not fuck with me, Nighteye. Do not fuck with her. I will fucking hurt you. So spit it out right now, or I’ll carve it out of you. Got me?”

The sheer venom in the girl’s voice speaks of a promise, not a threat, and Mirai swallows audibly, wiping sweat from his brow. He may be a grown man, may be an incredibly strong fighter, but right now he is afraid. He nods, sitting up straight in his chair and clearing his throat. “The analysis of the blood you provided, the sample from Shigaraki Tomura, came back this morning. There was a match in the database, a familial match. To a Pro Hero by the name of Shimura Nana. Shigaraki Tomura is her grandson, Shimura Tenko.”

Midoriya wants to puke. Toshi had told her about Nana, the previous holder of One for All, the man’s mentor and cherished friend. How she had given up her son to protect him from being targeted by villains. How she had died and left her son behind. How her son had grown up to have a family of his own. How that whole family had been massacred one day, nothing left of their bodies but ashes. Ashes… Or dust. The dust of Decay, Shigaraki’s own Quirk. What had happened to that poor child? Had he killed them by accident, or in a fit of rage? What had driven him to found the League of Villains, to attack the USJ and Hosu and The Beast’s Forest? Why did he hate Heroes so much, even more than Stain had, wanting to destroy not only All Might but all Heroes and the society that supports them? All of these questions and a million more flitter through her mind, but Mirai isn’t done yet.

“There is something else you must know, Midoriya, as the inheritor of One for All and heir to Toshinori’s legacy. There is… A counterpart to the Quirk you both share, an origin that stretches back even before the Age of Gods, to the very birth of Quirks. His name is All for One, called so for his Quirk, the inverse of yours. He is a truly evil force, the great enemy that Toshinori fought against in the battle that gave him those wounds and his diminished form. And we believe that he is the true mastermind behind the League of Villains.”

Fuck. Fuck, this is all too much. But even swirling within the cloud of uncertainty and despair, Midoriya finds a single point of light: her decision has been made for her. It’s truly out of her hands, because if this All for One is as powerful and as evil as Mirai says he is, if he’s alive and scheming and taking control of Shimura Tenko to twist him into a villain, then the world needs All Might now more than ever. And Iida Tenya can’t be the one to be saved.

She stands from her chair, murmuring reassurances to her friends and girlfriends, and takes Toga’s hand, feeling the other girl calm at her touch. “Iida Tenya told me something, as he collapsed in a puddle of his own blood. He told me to use the cure as it was intended, because the world needs All Might. I don’t think it would be a waste to save him, it could never be a waste, but if this is the threat we’re all facing, then this is what needs to be done.”

Ignoring whatever meaningless response Mirai stammers out, she walks through the doors on the far side of the waiting room and down the hall, to where her mentor awaits. Toga stays by her side, but she barely notices. There, in the bed, is the tattered remnant of the man who was once Japan’s top Hero, the man who trained her to be his successor. He’s barely more than a skeleton with skin, now, the life and joy gone from the skull-like face under the oxygen mask. He looks like he could be asleep, and simultaneously steps away from that sleep being unending.

She lets go of Toga’s hand, and opens the drawstring bag. Inside is a vial of glowing white liquid, and something in the back of her mind tells her it looks like starlight. She moves by instinct, reaching down to the IV tube in his arm and pressing the cap of the vial into the open valve. The liquid pulses, shimmers, and drains into his arm, shining softly beneath his skin as it spreads throughout his body. She steps back, not even daring to breathe, and watches as his skin loses its deathly pallor and his eyes flutter open. Slowly, achingly slowly, the man sits up and turns towards her, sliding his mask down and taking a deep, unassisted breath.

“Midoriya? Oh, sweet girl, why are you crying? Come here, come here, that’s it.”

The greenette feels tears dripping down her cheeks as she leans into his embrace, and she somehow manages to avoid breaking into sobs. “Toshi. Toshi, we did it. Toga unlocked the puzzle, we got the cure. You’re going to get better now, Toshi. You can go home.”

The man’s long, thin hands rub slowly up and down her back, a comforting touch she hasn’t felt in what seems like an eternity. “I am sensing a ‘but’, young Midoriya. What has happened, my girl?”

Her breath hitches. She has to tell him. She can’t hide it, not from him. “It’s Iida. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but his wounds weren’t really healed. It’s like something was holding them together, and it failed. His stitches burst, he was bleeding, he was bleeding so much! But he told me I couldn’t use the cure to save him. I had to give it to you. And I found out about Tenko, and All for One, and I made that choice. The choice to save you, to save All Might, because the world can’t survive whatever’s coming next without you. Iida might die because of it, but I couldn’t do anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Midoriya… Midoriya, oh, my sweet girl, my dear girl. Oh, no, please no. Please tell me you didn’t… Stars above. Curse every kami who has forsaken me, not like this!”

She looks up into his eyes, confused, and sees fear. “Toshi?”

He pulls her close, wrapping her in his arms as tight as he can. Her mind goes blank. Something is wrong. Something is deeply, deeply wrong.

“Midoriya, it’s gone. I have no Quirk anymore. The last spark left me. One for All is gone. There’s only Yagi Toshinori left. And you. You inherited all of it. Midoriya, I can be your mentor, I can pass along everything I know, but All Might is gone.”

Chapter Text

For the first time in a very long time, Midoriya does not want to be touched. She does not want to be held, she does not want to be comforted, she does not want to be loved. She wants to be alone, away from everyone, left to her own devices and her own misery and her own failures.

Which is why, of course, she isn’t.

When she had come out of Toshi’s room, haggard and haunted, Toga trailing behind, she’d been immediately pounced on by her family, dumped in Tsu’s lap on the bench they were sharing, and surrounded on all sides. Ochako and Toga had each claimed an arm, Shoto one of her legs, and Kirishima had fetched snacks from the vending machines before flopping to the ground next to her other leg. She’d been plied with food, kisses, and comfort until she was ready to share what had happened. Mirai had disappeared as soon as she had, likely to go and speak with Toshi; she herself had spent the next several hours simply basking in the love of her family. In all the time that had passed, there hadn’t been a peep from any of the medical staff, with the doors to the rest of the wing remaining firmly shut.

Snacks long since eaten, Midoriya gently murmurs a request to get up, and wanders over to the alcove with vending machines, looking over her options. One of them appears to be an incredibly old model, and a tiny smile crosses her lips when she recognizes it. This was from a few months after All Might’s return to Japan, when he had saved a famous vending machine park from a rampaging werewolf villain. The video of the villain biting his hand down to the wrist, only to be lifted by that same hand and slammed into the ground, had been one of the earliest to go viral. She’d watched that video hundreds of times as a child, in awe of his strength and kindness. The woman who owned the park had gifted him one of the machines after he’d mentioned a love of takoyaki in a very awkward interview response; she’s glad to see it still up and running all these years later. Feeling nostalgic, she selects one of the boxed meals with extra tenkasu but no aonori, and waits patiently as it heats up. The ancient vacuum fluorescent tube displays slowly descending numbers to count down until her meal is ready, and she muses on its continued existence. The parts for such a machine haven’t been manufactured in centuries, and there’s only so many donor devices that can be scrapped, so it had come down to finding individual experts capable of small-scale fabrication to keep old devices like this running. She knows that Toshi has long been a financial backer of a sister organization to the Collective, the Tinker’s Trust, and in return was provided with things he couldn’t find anywhere else, like these VFD tubes for his vending machine.

After a few minutes, the door on the machine pops open, and her box of takoyaki slides out. She grabs it, a set of chopsticks, and a can of grape soda from the next machine over, taking them to one of the nearby tables and sitting down to eat. She gently peels back the lid of the box to avoid scalding herself, and marvels at how fresh and delicious the food inside looks. There’s a veritable mound of crunchy scraps of tempura batter, a more sensible dusting of bonito flakes, finely chopped negi sticking to the glistening brown takoyaki sauce and delicate mayonnaise, all on top of ten plump balls of fried dough. She pulls her chopsticks gently apart, leaning over to smell the delightful scent of the takoyaki before digging in. The dough has a little give, not too much, the perfect texture for a nice treat. She blows on it a few times before popping it in her mouth and biting down. The smokey sweetness of the takoyaki sauce mixes deliciously with the subtle sharpness of the mayo, and there’s just enough octopus in the middle to neither be an overwhelming flavour nor to be totally lost beneath the dough. In moments like this, it’s both easy and preferable to get lost in simple pleasures like a good meal, and she can understand how deeply important food has become to the Bakugo family. In times of distress, food brings comfort, and she muses that it’s a wonder she hasn’t gotten fat with all the stress-eating she does. Maybe it’s because she’s always been on her feet and on the move, between her patrols, her training, and now her Heroics classes? Though, if her cursory research is correct, she’s going to need to change things up a little to get a fuller, more feminine figure once she starts hormones. If she starts hormones; she’s not entirely decided yet. Being known as a girl is one thing, but being seen as one, strangers being able to look at her and tell at a glance she’s definitely not a boy in a skirt? That’s an entirely different beast.

She looks over at Tsu, who seems to be occupied with braiding Kirishima’s hair, and considers the other trans girl in her life from a different angle than usual. There’s a certain fearlessness in the way she carries herself, both in general and in terms of her gender presentation, but Midoriya knows full-well that her beloved froggy harbours a deep, powerful fear of rejection in her heart, where only her partners can see it. Yet every day, she chooses to get up in the morning and push that fear aside so she can stay true to herself, and that’s a quality she admires in the other girl more than almost any other. She knows Tsu will support her in any decision she makes, but she also knows the girl won’t hesitate to tell her if she thinks she’s making the wrong one. Having that support had been instrumental in coming to terms with her gender to begin with, and it’s absolutely going to play a vital role in deciding where to go with it next. Maybe she’ll skip the hormones and take the same path Tsu had: a full reconstruction of her endocrine system using Quirk surgery. It’s an expensive measure, to be sure, but what concerns her even more is the recovery time - Tsu had been on bed rest from the end of her junior high year to a mere week before the entrance exams. She’s not sure she can handle being down and out that long, and she’s also not sure she wants to wait until the end of her first year at UA to transition. Now really isn’t the time to decide, though; choices like this are best saved for times of relaxation, not high pressure. Everything being equal, she’d rather wait. She’s got plenty of time no matter what.

She needs to go shopping, for sure. The trip to the mall is probably going to be delayed a while longer yet, but it absolutely has to happen, and not just for her - Toga needs it too. She can only spend so long wearing old clothes donated by the other girls in class alongside her school uniform, and her room is in dire need of decoration. The pair are also due a spa date, along with Ochako and Tsu, paid for entirely by Shoto. Or rather, as it turns out, by Endeavour: the black card Shoto likes to use whenever the group goes on outings was not, in fact, some sort of allowance from his father, but rather one of the scumbag’s own credit cards, which had been swiped by Todoroki Touya, currently running about as the villain Dabi, and left behind after his apparent death at their father’s hands. Endeavour, it would seem, made such ridiculous amounts of money that he neither noticed nor cared what Shoto spent it on, and didn’t even look at the statements, seeing financial management as beneath him. Thus, Shoto was able to buy his friends as many expensive lunches, dinners, movie dates, and other trips as they wanted - or as many as he could badger her into accepting, in Ochako’s case. Between that and Yaomomo’s own black card - which actually belonged to her, Midoriya has checked - the big shopping trip was going to be completely covered, and the class was hell-bent on making sure both she and Toga got the most out of it. And, if Mina’s usual rumours are to be believed, a few of the other students as well - something had apparently been said about buying matching decorations of some kind for all of 1-A to take with them through their time at 1-A and through into their eventual careers as Pro Heroes, a token of their shared bonds. What this would be, not even Mina knows. Midoriya hopes she doesn’t land on something silly like expensive jewellery or the like.

As she continues chewing contemplatively through her food and ponder the future, her newest girlfriend comes to join her at the table with a meal of her own: a canister of blood, chilled, and a package of Calorie Mate, both taken from the emergency stores Midoriya keeps in her bag for the girl. Each member of the class, save for Midoriya herself, had agreed to donate a bit of blood to Toga’s stash in a really touching display of camaraderie. Once Mei had finished the fridge project, it had been stocked up with enough supply to last her for months at a time, and that was assuming she didn’t feed fresh from the source, with her classmates being taught all the safety measures needed to allow it. Having a full suite of twenty forms to take also made the girl feel secure, and she was getting better and better at using her Quirk now that she could practice it safely with so many options to select from. Midoriya is looking forward to her being able to join them in proper combat training once she’s recovered from her malnutrition, even if she won’t be attending the actual Heroics Course classes until the new year at the earliest - and that’s assuming Toga decides that that’s the program she wants to enroll in. The two had talked about it a bit, both privately and with the so-called Fab Five, so she knows the other girl is undecided as to what sort of career she actually wants to pursue. Midoriya had informed her in no uncertain terms that joining her girlfriends in becoming Pro Heroes is only one option of many, and that they’ll help her no matter what, but she knows Toga still feels pressured to pick something at least close to the three of them. Getting Nedzu to swear that she would be allowed to remain in the Class A dorms no matter her choice had gone a long way in assuaging her fears, but maybe it’s time for Midoriya to think of some actual options she could present as alternatives. Something to play into her keen desire to help others, and especially those like her. Quirk therapy, maybe? That might be a bit too close to home in terms of the things her parents had put her through, though.

She still needs to track down Toga’s parents and give them a piece of her mind. She’d sworn to Ochako not to murder them, but roughing them up a little wouldn’t be that bad, right? She’s cute enough for her girlfriends to forgive her, and she can always lean on the police to let her off the hook as well. Ways and means exist for her to get away with all sorts of things.

Midoriya’s heart stops when she hears the doors to the ward open, and her head snaps up to see if it’s one of the doctors, or just Mirai returning from Toshi’s room. It’s the former, and the look on their face gives away the answer to the question she can’t bring herself to ask. They approach the table, clipboard in hand and neutral expression on their face, stopping a few feet away and clearing their throat. Toga reaches out and grabs her hand, and she squeezes it back as she waits for the dreadful words to come from the doctor’s mouth.

“Midoriya, he’s asking for you. He’s lucid, and he’s as comfortable as we can make him. You can come in and see him two at a time. I need to go and try to contact the family again; will you have anyone else who needs to be informed?” She nods slowly, heart tearing. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I hope… I hope that he’ll stay lucid long enough to see his parents; I know the Iidas put a lot of stock in family - and that’s why I’m glad you, at least, were able to be here from the beginning. I just wish we could do more. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen; there’s traces of something almost like a Quirk, and that’s what was holding him together. And whatever it was, it simply… Went away. I’m sorry, I don’t have the answers that you deserve. You should go and see him now.”

Midoriya cannot, can not, afford to fall apart right now. As much as she wants nothing more in this moment than to run to her family and collapse screaming into their arms, she forces herself to bow politely to the doctor, stand up, and walk over to them calmly. She sees the haunted looks on their faces, knows it’s reflected on her own, and gives them a single, small nod. Kirishima jumps up, wraps her in a hug, but she can’t hug him back, because that would make her careful facade crumble to dust. Instead, she lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, and smiles sadly up at him when he pulls back. She can hear the muffled sounds of Ochako sobbing into Tsu’s neck, and she gives them each a gentle kiss, then leans down to press her forehead against Shoto’s for a moment.

“You and Toga first. You deserve a chance to say goodbye no matter what, and she can’t leave your side. That’s what the note said.”

The bichromic boy’s usually flat affect is tinged with a sadness that plucks painfully at her heartstrings, and she runs her thumb slowly along his scar before pulling back. She turns to Toga, takes the girl’s hand again, and leads her away through the doors deeper into the ward. It takes far too long, and yet no time at all, to arrive at the door to the room she does not want to enter. Entering this room means admitting the truth. That Iida Tenya, one of her dearest friends, one of the founding members of the Fab Five, a boy she loves in a way she still can’t put into words, is dying. When he had first been hurt, in that reckless, foolish fight in Hosu, she had been on the other side of the world, unable to help him, or to stop him. She had spent a long time hating herself for not being there, for all she knows that she needed to be where she was, that fate itself demanded her presence in that cave in Canada, but now? Now she faces the harsh reality that even being there didn’t matter this time. She was all of ten feet away, and she was powerless to stop whatever it was that had happened. It galls her, in a way she hasn’t felt since her rooftop encounter with Toshi, and she has to bite back the bile that rises in her throat. She wants to scream, to curse the world, to run back to that cave and break whatever curse lays upon it just so she can wrap her hands around West’s neck and ask him why his cure had been so useless at the end of it all.

But instead she opens the door, and steps through.

He looks small, far smaller than he should. He’s not hooked up to much, just a pulse oximeter and an IV bag likely feeding him painkillers, which is a testament to the fact that they’ve stopped trying to save him and moved to comfort. He’s leaning back against the slightly raised head of his bed, certainly not sitting upright, and his eyes flutter open as she and Toga enter, a tiny, wan smile stealing across his lips. She lets go of Toga’s hand and closes the distance on shaky steps, leaning heavily into his touch as he brings his fingers up to her face.

“Midoriya. Good, you’re here. I was worried that I would not get to see you! You did as I asked? Well, of course you did; I would not be in this sorry state if you hadn’t. And it worked?”

She nods silently, grabbing his hand with both of hers and pressing it to her cheek. She refuses to tell him that Toshi had lost his Quirk, that his sacrifice had been meaningless in the end. She’ll have all the rest of her life to regret her choice, but she won't let him spend what little of his is left doing the same.

“Wonderful. I know, you do not think so, but never mind that. I made my choice, and as the heir to the legacy of Ingenium, I stand by it. I was always prepared to give my life for the greater good; I only had hoped it would not come so soon. But this is karmic justice, is it not? Just like the attack that gave me these injuries in the first place. Do not look at me like that, Midoriya-chan. When the assault at the USJ happened, I alone escaped unscathed, did I not? There is a balance, in this world, and it demanded that I pay for such an unearned privilege. I took the wounds in Hosu that I should have taken alongside you; I should have died there, bleeding out in that alleyway, but some kami watching over me saved me from that fate, gave me the time I needed to meet Toga, to see you reunited with her, and to help ease her integration into our class. And in exchange, I am to die here. I can accept that as a fair trade.”

The boy’s voice quiets, and Midoriya sniffles, staring at him through her tears. “I… I’m sorry. I should have done more.”

“Nonsense!” Iida draws her in closer, and she falls to her knees, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “You did so much for me, Midoriya-chan, as you have done so much for everyone whose life you have entered! I do not regret a moment of the time we have spent together. I only regret that it could not be longer, that I will not get to see the beautiful woman and wonderful Hero that you will become. I will not ask that you do not mourn me, because mourning is the greatest part of moving on, but I will make the selfish request that you celebrate my life, as short as it was, and our time together. You must find joy, even without me, and you must only weep at my grave if you also smile, alright? Smile for me, Midorya-chan. Love your girls. Love Shoto and Kirishima too. Let them carry you through this; don’t you dare hide yourself away from them. Embrace your future. And do not dwell too much on the past.”

He reaches up to run his fingers through her hair, lets out a tiny sigh, and nestles back into his pillows. Moments later, she feels his hand fall away, and his heart stops.

No.

No.

No, not like this. Not now. Not when everyone else needs to say goodbye too! This can’t be it. This can’t be the end of it, the end of him. She can’t let those be the last words he ever speaks, not to her! It can’t be her! Tsuyu, Ochako, Shota, Kirishima, Togake, Komori, his brother, his parents, there are so many others who deserve to be the ones to hear it! She had failed him, no matter what he says, she hadn’t been good enough!

She shoves herself to her feet, places both hands on his chest, and reaches deep inside herself, acting on fear and instinct in equal measure as she squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but there’s a howling wind in her ears that drowns out the incessant beeping of the machine telling the world that he’s dead. The wind isn’t just in her ears, though; it whips all around her, and when she opens her eyes, the whole room, the whole world, is obscured by a hurricane of sakura petals. They whirl around in a frenzy, singing a song of mourning, of loss, but more than anything of determination. There is something there, something primal, older and more powerful than the Quirk that rears its head and ROARS alongside it, and she feels it scream through her veins in exultation as she seizes upon it and forces it to bend to her will.

Years from now, dozens hundreds and thousands, this will become known as the First Miracle, but all she knows it as now is the moment she finally had full control over herself, and her destiny. A glow begins to emanate from her body, a heat like the fires of a volcano, and she pours this feeling into the body of her dead friend. She knows nothing else but the divide between them, spanned by a thread that is cut far too short, and she lets out a growl that shakes the world itself. She takes the thread in both hands, one wrapping around the end with the cut, and she pulls with all of her might. From nothingness, from the void beyond the end of life, she pulls, and the thread grows longer. She denies that it was ever cut, and all of reality thrums with this denial, and the thread grows longer. She feeds into it every moment of laughter they’ve shared, every tear she’s shed, every bit of the time they’ve spent together and the thread grows longer. She thinks of the future they could have together, the future that he deserves, and the thread grows longer. He cannot be allowed to die like this. His story cannot be allowed to end here.

She will not allow it, and so it will not be.

A thousand miles away and directly in front of her, Iida Tenya sits up in his bed and takes the first breath of the rest of his life.