Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Potential energy turns to kinetic energy. A natural, devastating phenomenon brought about by gravity. The farther you have to fall, the greater the impact. This? Izuku stares over the railing, ignoring the way his stomach flips from the dizzying sight. This is most definitely high enough.

He wouldn’t even feel the impact. It would be too quick for his nerves to send pain signals to his brain. Izuku takes off his backpack, setting it next to the door he had tried knocking on only moments ago. It had quickly become apparent that no one was coming to open it. 

The cool metal of the railing leaches the warmth from his shaking hands. He takes a breath, another, the air is sweet. 

You’ll never be a hero, not without a quirk.

You want to be a hero? There’s actually a really good way. Take a swan-dive off a rooftop and hope you’re born with a quirk in your next life.

All men are not created equal.

Useless.

Quirkless.

Stupid.

Deku.

The view is actually beautiful. Even more so through the blur of tears. None of the nasty details or sharp edges remain. Only the sun glowing on windows, the movement of thousands of people, the slowly drifting clouds.

Izuku puts a leg over the railing. He’s straddling it now, refusing to look down. The clouds look so soft from here. He could reach out and touch them.

He swings his other leg over, now holding to the very edge by his heels and his grip on the railing. 

His ID is in his pocket, so they won’t need to get his mom to ID the body. Not that she could. From this height, they would be lucky to recover partial dental records. She’ll be ok without him. She’ll be sad, sure, but she’ll be able to do as she pleases. She won’t have to take care of him, or put up with him, or worry about him anymore. She won’t have the burden of a useless son anymore. 

He’ll be… free. 

Kacchan will be glad he’s out of his way.

All Might will never even know. He’ll be able to focus on important things.

Izuku’s grip grows weaker. He can feel himself swaying in the gentle breeze.

He closes his eyes, focusing on the warmth of the sun on his face. He smiles. He let’s go.

He doesn’t look down as the ground approaches. He doesn’t want to know when he’ll hit. He can see smoke rising in the distance. Something is happening. Oh well.  It’s too late for him to worry about that. Through the whistle of the wind, he can hear a pedestrian screaming from below. He must be getting close. He’s sorry they’ll have to see this.

Any second n-

White.

He’s surrounded by it.

C̶̞͇̈́̓̒̒̋̐̿H̸͔̻̟̔̐͌̕͘Ḯ̶͖͈̳̪̝͔͋̇̓̏̅̚L̸̥̖͓̬̤̻͈̇̚D̵̳͔̣̝̰̺̗͊̈͛͂̆͘͠

Who? Who is that?

Į̴͎͋͆ͅ ̴̧̬̮̳̓̚Ḁ̴̡̱̼̭̆͐̅̽ͅM̷̨̬̈ ̵̡͍͇͇̥̋

̶̖͂̔͐̅W̶̢̲͙͍̩̮̭͊̒̄͋E̶̢̻͎̾͝ ̴̢̧͂͛̂Â̸̠͎͎̫R̴̹͕̮͔͆͌͂̍͂ͅE̵̦̠̥̯̅̑̓

What is this? What is happening?

W̴̼̮̃̄̏͆̒̃͝A̵̮͉̳̅̄̉̈́̕K̸̡̤̺͐̾͗̔̈́͌E̵̖͎̳͉̖͊̉̅͐̃̽͊ ̵̲̖̪͔̱̤̄̍U̵̲̣̔̇̐̐͝͠P̶̧̬̹̺̰͓̰̈́

̴̧͓̼̆͛͊̊R̸̭͓̺̎͛̃̊İ̴̗̗͎̘̺̱̀̐̇S̵̭͙̮̱͈͗́̾͠E̵̡͓̫̘͈̫̽̆̌

̶̦͙̘̠͌B̵̡̮̬͎̂E̷̛̮̲̤͙͎͕͛̿̄͂͝ͅC̸̱̗̭̈́̀̊̊Ớ̸̯̬̖̩̑̌̄͘M̵̜̓̔̍Ę̶̢͍̘̩̲͕̄̽̄̎

̸̠̙͓̩̺͚̈̐̄̈́͒͌͝B̶̨̡̠̩̓̈́̂̇̐̈́͝E̵͓̋̎̑̑

Izuku inhales with a jolt. Everything is so bright, so loud.

“Oh my God, he’s okay. How?-”

“What was that light? Was that him?”

“Kid?” Someone nudges his shoulder. Izuku rolls over, coming face to face with a red-haired stranger, “Hey, you okay? EMS is on the way, just stay put.”

He doesn’t listen. Every fiber of his being is radiating with intense energy. He has to go, has to do something. 

W̸̱̻̰͍͇̠̓͊̈́̓̚ą̵̧̧̳͔̼̰͑k̶̨̡͎̘̭̙͖̏̋̒͜e̴̪͎̐̀̾͊ ̸̨͍͆̔̓u̵̢͕̾͐̈́͜p̶̼̳̮̤̓͗͝.̷̢̞̮̣̕

He pushes himself to his feet, vision spinning for a moment before it stills and he can see clearly. There’s a crowd of people around him, cars stopped on either side. Someone is crying in the distance, though Izuku can’t see them. A few of them have their phones out, recording him. 

Wait, recording him? Why?

Izuku doesn’t stick around to find out.

R̴̛͚͇͍͔̿͌̾͑́̓͝í̶̫͔̮̰̟̑̉s̵̤̹͔͙̺̞̩̉̈́̒ę̸̝̥̜̝͓̥͚̐̎̀͒̅͛̈́̏

“I have to go.” His voice cracks, but he pays it no mind. 

The crowd parts for him easily.

He should be dead, but he isn’t dead? What happened? Why does he feel like this?

B̸̨̩̖͙͓̘̳̲̍͋̂̈́e̴̢͇͙͝c̸̙̣̾̉̊̆͝ơ̴̰͠m̷̡̮͖̦̟̗̝͗̂̈́e̸͖͇̖̣͛͝

He starts to panic, he starts to run. 

What direction had that smoke been in?

How is he this fast ?

B̵͔̙̗͇̺͑͒̾ę̶̝̲̺̪̻̲͖̈́͐̏̊͊̈̓͝

---

Toshinori stops at the back of the crowd, peering over people’s heads as best he can. He feels bad for leaving that kid, but he did what he had to. Besides, he’ll be fine. Right now he needs to focus on what’s in front of him.

It’s the same villain as before, but this time it seems to have picked a different victim. By the looks (and sounds) of it, a much more powerful victim. Explosions light up the alleyway every few seconds as the struggle continues. A group of pro heroes struggles to keep the crowd back and fight the villain, but so far, they’re managing it. There’s a good chance he won’t even have to intervene. Even if he needs to, he’s not sure he could with his limit being pretty much spent for the day. 

A flash of white hair pushes him aside, delving deeper into the crowd and ducking past the pro heroes at the front. All Might follows after it, afraid it might be an additional threat, but stopping as he gets to the front. The white figure is just a schoolboy, and upon closer inspection, so is the victim. They seem to know each other based on the way the victim screams at the figure, though, it doesn’t sound friendly.

“What the hell are you doing, idiot?!” 

The white-haired figure doesn’t respond, only dashing closer still.

“Get out of here you- Wha- DEKU?!”

The white-haired figure still refuses to acknowledge the victim, instead placing his now-glowing hands on the villain. The glow increases until it’s almost blinding, the villain screeching and sinking away, dropping it’s victim. 

All at once, the pro heroes swoop in, gathering the victim away, capturing the villain, and detaining the white-haired boy. 

Toshinori approaches as they bring the boy out of view of the crowd. He flashes his detective’s badge (a convenient gift from Tsukauchi) at the pros that try to stop him. The boy’s face is expressionless as he watches a now-shrunken Mount Lady tell him off for getting in the way.

“You could have been hurt! You could have gotten someone else hurt! What were you thinking?-”

Toshinori tunes her out, taking the opportunity to observe the boy. He looks familiar, his uniform matching those of both the victim and the boy he had met earlier that day. What was it with that school and getting into trouble today? The boy had white hair, some kind of horns, no, antlers, and a spiderweb of fine-line scarring across the left side of his face. Then Toshinori sees his eyes.

They’re exactly the same as the boy from earlier. In fact, he looks a lot like the boy from earlier. Too much for coincidence. Maybe a brother?

“I understand. I apologize for causing any trouble. May I borrow a phone? I need to call my mother.” Toshinori freezes. The voice is flat now, but it is undoubtedly him. He had only left him for twenty minutes. What had happened ?

“Sure, kid. As long as you’re alright. But never do anything like that ever again, got it?”

The boy nods, and Toshinori can’t stop staring, wondering more and more why it looks like this boy had been busted apart, and then pieced back together almost perfectly, but not quite. He backs away, still watching, but out of eyeshot. The kid could recognize him, and that’s the last thing he needs right now. He waits and watches.

---

Izuku grips the phone with hands that have just started to shake. He had jumped, survived, and fought a villain. Suffice to say, he should not be okay.

Still, he enters his mother’s number, feeling as though he’s watching his own body act on autopilot. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, this is Midoriya Inko speaking, can I help you?”

“H- Hi mom. It’s me.” His voice is weak and scratchy.

“Izuku! Honey, are you okay?”

“Uh, no. I need you to come get me, please.” He feels bad asking, but he needs her and he needs her soon. He can feel cracks forming in his calm facade.

“Okay, I’ll be right there, just hang on. Where are you?”

“I- I don’t know, here, let me ask.” He turns to Mount Lady, who is watching him intently, concern growing in her eyes as she begins to realize that while Izuku seems fine, something is seriously wrong. She’s seen shock victims before, and they kind of look like this. 

“It’s okay, honey, here, I’ll let her know what’s going on.” She holds out her hand for the phone, which Izuku hands over almost gladly.

Izuku tunes them out almost immediately, opting to stare down at his hands. Kacchan hadn’t even recognized him. Everything was happening so fast. His body is still buzzing, though more subdued now. How had he survived? Why did he feel like he couldn’t stop himself earlier? Had he really… he’s going to be sick. Why didn’t his thoughts feel like his own? Oh God, oh God, he had really died. He had died and now he’s back and oh God he had died -

He narrowly avoids hurling on Mount Lady’s feet, instead leaning against the side of a building and coughing up everything he managed to put down that day. Distantly, he’s aware of a hand on his back, of a crinkly chrome thermal blanket being placed around his shoulders, of being led to the back of an ambulance, sitting on the edge as someone instructs him to breathe. 

There’s no way of telling how much time had passed, but finally, blessedly, he hears a familiar voice.

“Izuku, honey!” His mother calls out, scanning the thinning crowd for a familiar mop of dark green hair. She doesn’t find it, but after a moment, she does find Izuku.

“Izuku!” she hurries over, catching his face in her hands, eyes darting all over his features in confusion, “What-what happened to you? Why-”

Izuku opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The feeling of her soft, warm hand on his cheek is the final straw. He fully lets go, a choking sob clawing up his throat as he desperately clings to her, burying his face in her shoulder.

She clings right back, rubbing his back as he sobs, overwhelmed and confused and exhausted and devastated.

“Izuku, honey, what happened ?” She murmurs into his hair.

The thought of what he had so nearly done to her, oh God - It’s a good thing he already threw up everything he could because that thought hurts so badly he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back from being sick again. He merely shakes his head, refusing to answer the question.

“We- We need to go to the hospital, mom. Something is wrong with me-” He sobs again, “I- I feel so weird-”

“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll go, let me call the doctor, just hold on.” Inko smoothes down his now-white hair as she pulls out her phone.

“Ms. Midoriya, is everything okay?” Mount Lady asks, tentative in her intrusion.

“I- I don’t know,” Inko answers, still looking through her contacts with a helpless expression, “He had green hair this morning an- and no scars- and are those antlers?”

Finally, Mount Lady understands what was so wrong.

“Wait, do you mean he didn’t already look like this?”

“I-” Inko looks up, glancing between her shivering son and Mount Lady, “ No . No, he didn’t.”

“O-oh. Oh- ”

“Can you please keep an eye on him while I call the doctor, I’ll just be a minute-”

“Yeah, absolutely. No problem.” Mount Lady leans against the open ambulance door, watching Izuku while she tries to give Ms. Midoriya some semblance of privacy.

“So… you had a pretty eventful day, huh?” Izuku looks up at her, nods just barely, and then his eyes unfocus again. 

She just nods, allowing him as much privacy as possible while she scans the meager remaining crowd. Almost everyone is gone now. Just a few straggling pedestrians, some particularly brash reporters, a few pro heroes, a couple of officers, and that strange detective that appears to be… hiding?

She watches as he peeks from behind a police vehicle. At first, it seems like he’s watching her, but as she keeps watching, she realizes he’s watching the boy. What business does he have with a shell-shocked schoolboy? Did he need to question him or something? If so, why was he hiding? She narrows her eyes at him, unable to puzzle out whatever he’s trying to do, and opting to just stare him down until he gets the point and stops creeping. 

“Thank you, miss-?” Inko returns, looking a little pale and frazzled, but otherwise okay considering the circumstances.

“Mount Lady, ma’am, happy to help.”

“Right. I’m sure you’re one of his favorites, but-” She looks to her son, who is still staring blankly down at his own hands as though he just committed some kind of inhuman crime.

“That’s okay. If he wants an autograph once he’s feeling better, feel free to stop by the agency anytime.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” She sighs, polite smile fading away, “Izuku, honey?” She places a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him gently back to the moment, “I called the doctor, we’re going to go now. Everything is going to be okay.”

Izuku nods, sliding off the back of the ambulance, thermal blanket forgotten. He allows himself to be led to Ms. Midoriya’s car, expressionless all the while save for the tears that seem to leak continuously from his wide eyes.

---

It has to be one of the strangest things Toshinori has ever seen. A complete transition within only a few minutes, from a kid that has no quirk, let alone a shapeshifting quirk. He watches as Izuku is led away by his mother, silent and stone-faced. If it weren’t for his name, and his mother’s almost identical looks, Toshinori would think he was a completely different person. Gone was the shy, determined boy from beneath the bridge. In his place, a strange, broken child.

“So who are you again?” Toshinori jumps, narrowly avoiding coughing blood all over the young hero that stands behind him, arms crossed, seemingly unimpressed with Toshinori in a rather complete sense.

“I- I am Toshinori Yagi, detective with the-”

“Yeah, but who are you to him ?” She nods in the direction the boy had disappeared to.

“Oh, well, I just- met him earlier. Before he looked like that.”

“Ah, yes, makes sense, I too hide from everyone I know when they get a new haircut.”

“I’m worried that if he recognizes me, it might… upset him.”

“So he’s, mad at you?”

“In a sense, yes.”

“What’d you do, give him a ticket for parking his bike in the wrong spot?” To her credit, she is as thorough as she is irritating.

“Something like that. Anyway, good work, ma’am, but I must be reporting back-”

“Oh, of course, don’t let me keep you, detective.” She walks off with one last suspicious look and Toshinori lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Semi-fake detective or not, he needs to get to the bottom of what happened to young Midoriya.

Chapter Text

Izuku is silent the entire drive. He sees Inko’s concerned glances, but he can’t address them right now, so he pretends not to notice. His hands haven’t stopped shaking. He made the mistake of looking at himself in the rear-view mirror. He doesn’t even recognize himself. 

His hair has turned white, small antler-like nubs have sprouted from his skull, curling up just above his hair. Apparently, they had been longer earlier, according to his mom. His eyes, thankfully, stayed the same. Thin scars looking like cracks branch out from his left temple, spider-webbing across his face like a re-assembled piece of pottery.

Izuku ignores the way his mom takes the turns just a little too fast as they pull into the hospital parking garage. If he focuses on how upset she is, he’ll start thinking of how upset she would have been, and if he thinks about that… He shakes himself out of his thoughts as Inko parks the car, gathering her bag in a hurry.

“Come on, dear, he’s waiting for us.” Izuku nods to her, getting out of the car and following in a daze to the elevator. 

Unsaid words form a bubble of tension between them, filling the space that Inko so desperately wishes she could cross. It’s obvious that her son is hurting, that he’s confused and anxious, but as much as she wants to just hold him tight and never let him go, she knows that he needs to be allowed to stand on his own. This is Izuku’s way of coping with things right now, and she’ll just have to accept that right now. 

The hospital is a labyrinth that Inko knows well. She guides Izuku with ease to the waiting area for their doctor. They had been seeing him ever since Izuku was seven, transferring right after their old family doctor had retired. The man was good at what he did, and more importantly to Inko, he never treated Izuku like an anomaly.

“Hello, excuse me, I’m Ms. Midoriya, here to see doctor Tanaka.” the receptionis t looks up only momentarily, gauging Inko’s impatience by the tightness in her tone.

“Midoriya, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Right, he’s ready for you, follow me.” he opens the door for them, waving them through.

“Ah, Ms. Midoriya, it’s good to see you again! You said there was something to do with young- oh.” Dr. Tanaka stops short when he catches sight of the white-haired, wide-eyed Izuku, “I- I see. Well, let’s get started then, shall we?”

---

Izuku has always hated examinations. There’s something about being so exposed, the scent of antiseptic, and the paper-covered exam table that sets his teeth on edge. Still, he knows he has to do this, so he grits his teeth and concentrates on not freaking out.

“My, my, it’s- quite the transformation, I’ll admit. Do you know what may have triggered it?”

“Yes.” Izuku answers before thinking, his mother’s head shooting up, gaze locked on him, desperate to hear whatever comes next. 

“What’s your theory, young Midoriya?” Doctor Tanaka had said those words many times before during check-ups, though typically it was in reference to someone else’s quirk.

He has to think fast, he has to lie.

“I- I, well-” He glances to his mother uncomfortably, Doctor Tanaka looking on, seemingly confused about Izuku’s hesitance, “I, uh, got hit by a car.”

“You what ?” Inko looks as though she may faint.

“I- It was an accident, I think. One second I was walking home, crossing at a red light, and the next-” Izuku cuts off, knowing he’ll have to recount the rest of the story as it actually happened, “the- the next I sort of, woke up? There was this bright light, and when I got up I felt like my body was buzzing. There was some sort of really strong instinct that said I had to move. Some people tried to stop me and told me to wait for the ambulance, but I just couldn’t for some reason.”

“Did you see who hit you? Did they stop?” Inko is nearly falling out of her seat, barely containing herself.

“N- no, I- they were gone once I woke up. I didn’t even think to ask.”

“You didn’t-”

“Ms. Midoriya, I- I hate to ask this, given the circumstances, but it may be best if I’m allowed to speak to Izuku alone for a while. Don’t worry, I will go over his full file with you at the end of the appointment, but for now it may be best for us to make the environment as underwhelming as possible.”

“I- I yes, I- Izuku, will you be okay, if I’m not here?”

Izuku freezes, looking at her with blank eyes. Finally, he nods.

“I- If I need her back, can we-”

“You two can be together at any point throughout the procedures, I only suggest this because it may help to relay your information in a more clinical setting so we can get the best possible results. Would it help you if we were alone, just for a bit, Izuku?”

After a long pause, Izuku nods. 

“Okay,” Inko takes a deep breath, obviously trying to keep her tears back as she processes what she’s just heard, “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll be in the lounge if you need me, dear-” She seems to want to say something else but the words are lost on her.

“Yeah, I- I will, mom.” 

Inko nods, gathering her stuff and opening the door. She gives Izuku a look he can’t entirely read, but it looks a lot like how he imagines grief would look. She sniffs, and closes the door behind her. Izuku listens as her footsteps fade down the hall.

“Izuku,” Doctor Tanaka gives him a similar, though much milder look as he pulls his stool over, taking a clipboard to set in his lap, “There exists a pattern that seems to be unique to almost all late blooming quirks, like yours. That pattern lies in the manner in which these quirks are discovered. Too often, they are discovered in a traumatic manner, often due to a life-or-death situation. Would you say this is true for yourself as well?”

Izuku nods, but opens his mouth to speak, there is a small flaw in Dr. Tanaka’s analysis.

“Y-yes, but I think I may have- I believe I actually died, sir. These scars, they, they don’t seem to be from a survivable injury, and-” Izuku chokes, gagging on bile once again.

“Hey, hey-” Dr. Tanaka places a hand on his shoulder, warmth spreading through the thin fabric of Izuku’s shirt, “You don’t need to relive it, okay? I- I believe your theory is… correct. But, you’re okay now, and we’re going to figure this out, together, yeah?”

Izuku nods, taking in a shaky breath.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Good, keep taking deep breaths. If you need to take a break just let me know.”

Izuku nods again.

“Alright, so now I’m going to ask some questions before we start the quirk analysis tests.”

“Okay.”

“So, number one: approximately how long ago did your quirk manifest?”

“An hour, maybe two?”

“Okay, perfect. Number two: have you noticed any significant internal effects, psychological, physical, or otherwise?”

“I- Uh, yeah. The sort of buzzing? The restless energy I spoke about earlier. And a- a voice almost? More like a notion, or an impression that felt like it wasn’t mine.”

“Okay, good, nothing too concerning so far, anything else you’ve noticed?”

“I’m really tired after using it, and I have a headache, but I can’t tell if it’s from the quirk use, or from stress.”

“Alright, I’ll put down those symptoms as potential side effects. Let’s try question three: Have you consciously triggered your quirk, if so can you describe in your own words what it felt like?”

“It, it wasn't exactly a conscious decision, but I used my quirk on this slime villain earlier and-”

“Slime villain? like the one in the news?”

“Y- yeah, I was there. My body sort of moved before I could think and I just, did it?”

“O- okay, go on.” Dr. Tanaka still seems thrown over the revelation, but prompts him to continue.

“Well, I sort of just pulled the power up from my chest area and pushed it towards my hands, like putty or something. Not physical putty, but like, a similar feeling? Anyway, it sort of latched onto something in the villain and I just yanked until the connection broke. It wasn’t anything physical I don’t think, but almost like, I don’t know, psychic tar?”

“Hmm, okay, so you believe this quirk may have a psychic element?”

“Maybe?”

“Alright, I’ll note it as a possibility. Any physical effects that you saw?”

“Well, he sort of pulled away really quick. I think it shocked him or something.”

“Alright, so it could be either due to a physiological or a psychological effect?”

“Yeah. It’s hard to tell when the guy was made of sludge.”

“Understandable.”

Izuku huffs a small breath of a laugh at that, Dr. Tanaka seeming to relax just a degree in response.

“Okay, Question four: Any external physical side effects?”

“Well…” Izuku gestures to his face.

“Yes, obviously, but have you taken a look at the rest of you to see if anything has changed?”

“No- Not yet.”

“That’s okay, do you want me to give you some privacy so you can check?”

‘No’ Izuku thinks to himself.

“Yeah, we should do that.” He says aloud.

“Okay, I’ll just step out for a minute, there’s a mirror behind the curtain over there.” He gestures to the corner, rolling his stool to the side and standing, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes to take down notes, I’ll be just outside the door if you need anything.”

Izuku nods, watching as he exits with one last smile.

 The door clicks closed and Izuku slumps. He’s so tired.

He starts with his shirt, slowly and methodically taking it off. He ignores the fine lines on his left arm, he’ll see the whole picture in a minute anyway. Next, his jeans, more lines, he looks away quickly.

His bones ache when he stands, but it will be better to just get this out of the way. The curtain covering the mirror feels rough in his grip, but he moves it anyway. It’s like tearing off a bandaid, right?

It’s… worse than he thought.

Pale silvery scar lines cover the left side of his body, branching out toward the right. He looks like chipped porcelain. There’s so many of them. 

He steps closer, looking himself in the eyes. Thankfully, they seem to have stayed the same. His hair is completely white, making him look even more washed out than he feels. Small nubs, like the just-forming antlers of a young deer poke out from the hair. Gingerly, he reaches up, feeling them. They’re firmly anchored to his skull, bone covered by only a thin layer of velvet. He sighs, moving on.

His ears are pointed now, though only slightly. Just a small tip of cartilage holding up their subtle peaks. Does that mean they’re a bit more sensitive now?

He opens his mouth. His teeth are sharper, though not overly so. He runs his tongue along the points, missing their once-rounded feel.

Thankfully, his hands appear untouched, save for the pale silver patterns lining the creases on the insides of his palms. It’s not very noticeable, and no one will give it a second glance. 

The cracks on his left arm don’t start to be visible until about his elbow, so they should be easy enough to cover. The cracks spread across his chest, lining his ribs and leading to what looks like a healed gash along his sternum. It must have been pushed out on impact-

No. Don’t think about it. Not now.

His left leg is a similar pattern of cracks, his right foot and hip seeming to have taken the brunt of it. He wiggles his foot, everything feels… fine. Not like it was practically mulched an hour or two ago. 

He takes one last long look, and closes the curtain again. He slips his shirt on, his jean on, and takes a breath. He’ll be okay. Just a few more tests and he’ll be home. He can do this.

“I- I’m done now, Dr. Tanaka.” 

“Is it okay if I come in?” His voice is muffled through the door.

“Yeah.” Izuku calls back, getting himself situated back on the examination table.

“Alright, Midoriya,” Dr. Tanaka pulls up his stool again, clipboard in hand, “Tell me what you’ve found.”

---

It’s three more hours of rigorous quirk testing and analysis before he can go home. He does a full physical effect panel, speed panel, sense enhancement panel, strength panel, psychic effect panel, and radiation/toxicity panel. Dr. Tanaka stayed by him the whole time, taking notes all the while. Izuku couldn’t see the results as they were made, but based on the faces Dr. Tanaka was making, they’re going to be… interesting.

The ride home was silent. Izuku spent the whole time staring out the window and pretending he didn’t hear the sniffles his mom was obviously trying to hide.

She offers him dinner when he gets home, but he just declines, saying he’s tired. 

He spends that night boxing up everything All Might related in his room. It takes hours.

When he finally falls asleep, he doesn’t dream.

Chapter Text

Izuku hasn’t spoken or eaten in three days. Inko had tried bringing him food, but he left it untouched on his desk that now sits empty for the first time since Izuku was a child. All of his All Might and hero figurines and posters and such had been boxed up and placed in the corner of his room. Inko hadn’t asked why. She hadn’t asked a lot of questions that burned in her mind. 

She had read Izuku’s report and it had been… unsettling. His quirk had apparently been triggered by an extreme physical injury. Only activating to keep him alive. Further down, the quirk abilities were even stranger. His quirk worked on three separate layers. The first being a physical force that behaved similarly to electricity but could be transferred regardless of the laws of conductivity and only struck those subjects that Izuku intended to be affected. The second was a psychological effect. In creating an energy connection with a subject, Izuku could prompt a response. The readings they received in the simulation made no sense to Inko:

Simulated Psychological Effects Test

Triggered responses (emotional):

Happiness: 0%

Sadness: 3%

Anger: 0%

Fear: 19%

Other: 78%

Triggered Responses (chemical/adrenal):

Neutralizing: 0%

Panic: 74%

Confusion: 9%

Disorientation: 17%

Intoxication: 0%

Toxic Overload Damage Risk: Low

How is it that his quirk caused a human brain to spontaneously panic? And how is it that more than half of the emotional response he could trigger was unknown? The third, and most frustrating aspect of Izuku’s quirk, was that it had an unknown physical and psychological backlash. Obviously, it could change his physical appearance, but apparently, it could alter his body and mind in unknown ways. 

Inko sighs, putting the kettle on the stove and placing Izuku’s report aside. Mitsuki had called asking to come over, and Inko had agreed to have her, even if just because she’s grown desperate for any break from the silence that poisons the air in her apartment. 

Exactly on time, a knock sounds at the door and Inko rises to get it. She takes a breath before she opens the door, carefully arranging a smile, though she knows there is nothing she can do to hide her troubles from her friend. Mitsuki had always had a way of finding her out.

She opens the door, Mitsuki standing there with the same fake smile and a box of pastries from a bakery down the road. 

“Evening Inko, how are you?” Inko ignores that question, smiling even wider as she steps back for Mitsuki to get into the apartment. 

“Come in, come in, I just put tea on.” Mitsuki follows her into the apartment, placing her pastries down on the coffee table and looking around for something.

After a moment of Inko fiddling with teacups and saucers, Mitsuki speaks.

“Where is little Izuku? Bakugo said he wasn’t back in school yet.”

Inko sighs, setting the tea tray on the table.

“He hasn’t come out of his room since the incident. Has Katsuki told you about his… condition?”

“He has a condition?” Mitsuki leans forward, concern replacing her polite smile. 

“So he hasn’t, then. Well, Izuku, he’s-”

“I’m what?” Izuku interrupts, standing at the entrance to the kitchen. He looks pale, the circles under his eyes dark and bruise-like, but, of course, this is not what makes Mitsuki gasp.

“I-Izuku, what happened, dear?” Mitsuki slowly lowers her hands from her face, trying to play it off as though she’s not still staring wide-eyed at the boy.

“Izuku, honey, I’m glad you’re up-”

“I was hit by a car.” Izuku offers to Mitsuki, only giving his mother a sorry glance as he steps further into the room, taking a seat by his mother’s side, who offers him a cup of tea. He takes it, still looking at Mitsuki.

“You- you were hit by a car?” Mitsuki’s brow knits with confusion.

“Yeah, before the villain attacked Bakugo.” Mitsuki and Inko nearly flinch at the change of tone that Izuku uses to refer to Katsuki.

“Oh- I- I didn’t know about that. I’m so s-”

“Sorry?” Izuku finishes for her, making a face like the word left a bad taste in his mouth, “Not your fault.” He says simply, words clipped.

‘R-Right, well, I’m glad you felt well enough to come talk. I was actually wanting to speak with you.” 

Inko watches as her son seems to slump, but his expression stays the same. She wants to stop the conversation, but she doesn’t want Izuku to go back to the state he had been in before, so she reluctantly lets it continue. 

“What about?” Izuku asks, now looking down to stir his tea. He takes a sip, ignoring the way it burns his tongue.

“Well, I wanted to thank you for what you did for Katsuki. We’re so thankful. I know he doesn’t really say so, but he’s thankful too-”

“If he’s so thankful, then where is he?” Izuku places his cup down softly. He doesn’t say it harshly, but still, the sting is there.

“ Izuku- ” Inko hisses.

“No, it’s okay, Inko. Katsuki is resting is all. With all the activity I’m sure you understand.”

Izuku looks at her with sad eyes, reaching out and placing a hand over hers.

“Tell me again, Auntie, where is Bakugo?”

Mitsuki looks down at his hand, then back at his eyes, “He’s resting.” She repeats quietly.

Izuku takes his hand back with a soft hum.

“You’re lying.” He says simply. There’s no bite in it, not even a hint of accusation, “I understand why, of course, but you’re lying. I’m sure that Bakugo isn’t thankful, in fact, I’d bet that he’s probably pissed. But you don’t want to upset me, and I appreciate your concern.” Izuku takes a deep, shaking breath.

“If you’ll excuse me, please,” He rises from the table without making eye contact with either of them. He walks out the front door without so much as putting shoes on.

The closing of the door is thunderous in the silence.

“He has a quirk.” Mitsuki says, still staring at the closed door, “He-”

She cuts off, burying her head in her hands. Her shoulders shake as she continues.

“He’s right, Inko, I’m so sorry. Katsuki has been out of control ever since the incident. I was so worried that something may have happened between him and Izuku. That’s why I had to come over. I’ve been trying to figure out what happened for the past few days, but he won’t talk about it. Some of the things he said, Inko, I have failed as a mother.”

“Mitsuki, what?” Inko rubs her back, “What do you mean by that?”

“The things he’s said about poor Izuku. I knew they had grown apart since they were kids, but I think there might be more to it than that. Katsuki has been enraged ever since he found out Izuku has a quirk. He says that he had been faking being quirkless to make Katsuki look bad. I knew something had happened to Izuku, but I never imagined…”

Inko nods, unsure what to think of all this, but knowing that her friend is in pain and that so is she, “He died according to the report. That’s how it got triggered.” and that so is Izuku.

Mitsuki freezes at that, turning to Inko with wide glassy eyes, “He what?” she whispers.

“He died, Mitsuki, and he hasn’t spoken for days until now. He isn’t eating and he won’t tell me what happened, and you saw those scars.”

Now Mitsuki is angry, a familiar fire lighting in her eyes, though far more muted than usual.

“He went through so much, and all Katsuki can think is that he’s done it all to trick him? How did I mess up this badly, Inko? He’s- He’s so selfish! I know he’s smart- He could see what’s going on if he would just-”

“Mitsuki!” Inko interrupts, “He’s a teenage boy, too. A child. And sometimes children are immature, and sometimes they are cruel. You haven’t failed as a mother because you aren’t done yet. He’s still growing and learning.” Inko sighs, “I should be mad on Izuku’s behalf, but they’re both just kids. As much as I want to protect him, there’s only so much I can do, as much as that hurts.”

Mitsuki wraps Inko in a hug, both of them holding tightly and hoping they can be enough in the trouble that is sure to come.

---

Izuku runs, ignoring the small stones that jab his bare feet. He can see the sea wall ahead, the beach lying behind it, beyond that, the great expanse of the ocean. He’s not sure why he’s drawn there, but he’s not about to question it. His feet pound against the earth, forcing him into the moment as he allows the past few days to sink in.

He jumps the seawall, landing in a spray of sand. He doesn’t feel the shock in his legs that should be there. There are lots of things like that that are missing now. He continues running, ignoring the way the sand flies up around him. The ball of emotion he had held in his chest expands painfully, so he stops, and lets it out, finally.

He screams at the setting sun that sinks into the water. He screams until he’s light-headed and he falls to his knees in the sand. He screams because it’s the first time he’s been alone enough in days to finally allow himself to mourn his own death. He screams until his throat tastes like blood, and then he lays back on the sand, ignoring the slowly-encroaching waves that will soon be hitting his feet. He watches the sky through blurry eyes as it turns from blue to grey to orange, and then red as the sun makes its way down beneath the waves. Izuku feels his lungs heave, and he lets them, knowing that if he tried to control himself now it would be like trying to cage a wounded lion. 

Finally, his breath becomes calm and quiet as he watches the slowly-passing clouds. He closes his eyes and listens to the waves, noting a strange crunching sound approaching.

He opens his eyes as a shadow falls over him.

Above him stands All Might in his skeletal form, looking equal parts confused and concerned.

Izuku groans and shuts his eyes again.

Chapter Text

All Might doesn’t speak immediately. He seems to pause, looking uncomfortable as he watches Izuku, who still hasn’t moved from his place in the sand. Izuku knows he must look like a mess, covered in scars, eyes red from crying, sand in his hair, and water soaking into his clothes, but he doesn’t care. He has no reason to try and present himself to this man as anything except what he is right now.

When All Might finally speaks, his voice is small. It sounds nothing like his familiar call of ‘I AM HERE!’ and more like a sheepish, ordinary man.

“My boy, I have been looking for you ever since the… incident,” He says the word like it tastes bitter, letting it fall out of his mouth half-chewed, “I wanted to check and make sure you are alright, but I see now that you are not.”

All Might gazes down on him with something that looks like pity, and it grates on Izuku’s nerves. All Might opens his mouth to continue, but Izuku interrupts him.

“Wow,” His voice is edged in blades, sarcasm dripping from every word, “You figure that one out all by yourself, did ya?”

All Might splutters, before seeming to collect himself enough to continue. He seems to pretend not to notice Izuku’s tone, perhaps hoping the wide-eyed boy he’d spoken to when they first met would make another appearance. He will not. Izuku left him on the cement when he made impact.

“I- um- What you did for young Bakugo, it was- it was very… brave.” He hesitates on the last word and Izuku has to try not to laugh.

“You mean it was stupid.” It’s not a question.

“No- no, I mean brave. I just…” He trails off, again looking at Izuku with those eyes. The gaze that tells him that he is looking at something broken.  

Izuku wants to yell at him, get mad, throw things, but he doesn’t. He only closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The air is balmy and soft against his face, a tame breeze drifting in with the waves. The heat of the sun still remains in the top layer of sand, radiating the warm memory back to Izuku.

Izuku just waits. Either All Might will say what he needs to say, or he’ll leave. Either way, Izuku is going to enjoy this moment.

“What-” All Might is nearly whispering, now kneeling beside Izuku in the sand, “What happened to you, my boy? What caused this- this transformation?”

Izuku doesn’t open his eyes when he responds. He doesn’t want to see whatever face the man is making now. He takes a moment to consider, before he sighs, and decides on the story he will tell. All Might is a tired, broken, human man, and as much as he had failed Izuku, there are still others he could save. So he says what he will claim as his truth for as long as he can.

“I was hit by a car,” The lie rolls easily off of his tongue, “I wasn’t watching where I was going when I left the building. Got hit, quirk activated, end of story.”

All Might is quiet again, his breathing slightly labored in the silence. He sighs shakily before he responds.

“I- I’m sorry, my boy, I should have been there. I shouldn’t have left you all alone.” He seems to choke on the words.

Izuku bites his tongue, finally opening his eyes and sitting up to face the man. Sure enough, he’s looking at Izuku with watery, sorry eyes. Izuku doesn’t let himself be moved by the sight.

“That’s okay.” He shrugs, his voice flat, “I’ve learned to save myself now.”

All Might watches the boy, noting the cold steel in his gaze that had certainly not been there before. Whatever had happened to this boy, car accident or otherwise, something inside of him had also broken, and All Mig- No- Toshinori is at fault for that. All he can do now is see what remains.

“Do you still want to be a hero, my boy?”

Izuku is slightly taken aback by the question. Instinctively, his answer is yes, but does he really want that? Even with his new quirk, he may still be too weak. He only managed to keep himself alive on accident, what makes him think he could save anyone else? But… maybe that’s why he should become a hero. He’s not the only one like himself out there, deemed useless all his life, scratching up from the bottom of society for just a scrap of sunlight, cast aside even by those that are supposed to reach down and pull him up. Pitied, marked, rejected. They couldn’t understand, all these people in their gleaming temples of power, their bodies sanctuaries instead of prisons, they cannot- will not understand what it means to live as he has lived. But him? He has fallen. He has become the marks on the pavement. He has been the unfortunate statistic. He has been given a second chance. He’s a little cracked, sure, but who but the broken could give pieces of himself up so easily to those that need him? He can be who he needed. He can change things.

“Yes.” He answers simply, his voice steady.

All Might blinks at him, seemingly surprised before nodding.

“Apply to UA. You acted without hesitation. You put yourself in harm's way to save someone who, from the looks of it, didn’t even like you. If you read the stories from all the best heroes, they say their bodies moved before they could think. They didn’t have to think. They knew they could do something , and so they did. What I saw you do for young Bakugo, that is what makes a hero. I should have said as much when we first met.”

Izuku listens, but he notices that he already knows that. He doesn’t need All Might to tell him. In fact, he knew that all along. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him.

“I’ll apply to UA” Izuku states, ignoring the way All Might smiles at him. He doesn’t say the rest, but he knows, he is doing this because he needs to be All Might. He needs to be what All Might should have been. And he’s going to do it with or without anyone’s approval. He’s going to do it for him.

“I’m glad to hear it, my boy. I expect to be seeing you in the fall. Be- be safe.” He says the last part quietly, but Izuku hears him loud and clear. All Might has no more room on his guilty conscience for Izuku.

Izuku only nods, laying back against the sand and closing his eyes until he can no longer hear All Might’s retreating footsteps.

Slowly, he rises, stretching out his back, brushing the sand off his body, shaking it from his now-white hair. 

He’s a new person now in a lot of ways, and he has a long way to go, but as he looks out toward the ocean, somehow, he knows he can become what he needs to be. He’ll train himself. He doesn’t need anyone else to believe in him. He’ll be his own supporter. He’ll fight his own battles now, even if they’re only against himself. 

He glances down the beach, watching as the fading sunlight reflects off the dumping areas just a few hundred yards away. He always hated that the beach was dirtied like that. He sighs before straightening up. He can change that. That’s where he’ll start. He’ll save this tiny portion of the world, population: him.

Izuku throws his head back with a laugh. He feels lighter than he had in days. He’s going to do it. He’s going to make his own hero.

He runs down the beach the rest of the way, saltwater spraying up as he collides with the cold waves. He laughs as the droplets catch the light of the fading sun, turning them to nuggets of amber. He lets himself fall into the waves, lets the cold shock his system, lets it leach into his senses. The buzz that now lives under his skin grows stronger, pulling him up toward something greater. 

He yells a war cry into the oncoming wave, not entirely surprised when his voice sounds as though it is many voices in one. The wave crashes over him, tousling his hair and attempting to throw him back, but Izuku holds his ground and he laughs.

Yes, he had died. But he is still here. 

And this? 

He braces another wave with a cry of triumph, ignoring the glowing light that seems to rise from his skin.

This is his rebirth.

---

Toshinori cannot shake the sense of unease that crawls up his spine as he walks home. The street lights slowly blink on as the sun fades, lighting his path. The night is pleasantly warm, but he cannot help but shiver.

A hit and run?

It’s not unlikely, really, but there was something in the way Izuku said it. Something in the steely gaze in his eyes that tells Toshi that this isn’t the whole truth. He wants to believe it. God help him, he wants to believe that a child got hit by a car because the alternatives are… sickening. 

He hadn’t realized until that night, lying alone on his futon, that he had made a very big mistake in his haste. He had left a teenager, who was visibly upset, and obviously had underlying self-worth issues (and thus self-preservation issues), on top of a very tall building, with no immediately available safe way to get down. 

The fact that he had seen Izuku after that helped assuage his guilt, but he couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes he saw the spiderweb cracks that cover the boy’s face. He can’t help but think about how much they look like he had shattered in an impact.

He’d had to check with the boy. He’d had to know what had happened. He had checked with him, he had been told what happened, so why does he still feel the nervous stirring at the pit of his stomach?

There are so many pieces of this story that don’t add up. Toshi sighs, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. He’ll have to leave it for another day. As long as the boy was alright, that was all that mattered. 

As bad as the day had gone, everyone had made it out alive.

Chapter Text

Izuku is mostly dry by the time he gets to his door, and all he can think about is washing the gritty sand and salt off of his body and changing into some clothes that haven’t started going stiff from dried brine. 

With a sigh, he pushes the front door open. Auntie Mitsuki’s shoes are no longer by the door, so she’s probably gone home. A strange feeling settles in his chest at the thought, somewhere between relief and disappointment. Part of him wishes he hadn’t been so straightforward with her, but the larger part of him is too tired and fed up to really care. 

“Izuku?” His mom rounds the corner from the kitchen, wringing her hands nervously.

“Hey, mom, I- oof.” Izuku starts to apologize, but he’s cut off when Inko slams him into a tight hug, holding him as though he might slip away if she loosened her grip even a little bit. 

“I’m sorry Izuku, I should have asked whether it was okay for Mitsuki to come over, but I just couldn’t take the silence anymore and I thought a friendly face would be good for both of us and I don’t know what I’m doing but I’m trying my best-”

“-Mom-”

“-and I know sometimes that’s not enough and that I mess things up, but I love you so much and I want you to be able to come to me when you need help-”

“- Mom -”

“And I know it’s been rough these past few days and that there’s only so much we can do to make things normal again, but if there’s anything we can do-”

“- MOM! ” So that’s where his rambling habit came from, “It’s okay, really. I’m sorry for worrying you earlier, I just needed some fresh air.”

Inko finally pulls back, looking her son in the eye. Hesitantly, she brings a hand up to brush the scarred side of his face, thumb tracing one of the silvery lines. 

“Mom,” Izuku takes her hand, moving it away from his scars as her eyes come up to meet his, “I know it doesn’t look pretty, but it doesn’t hurt either. We’ve dealt with hard things before, and we’ll be fine this time, too. Just take a breath.”

“What did I do to deserve you, Izuku?” Inko takes a deep, hitching breath, closing her eyes tightly, and holding his forehead to hers.

Izuku has to fight to keep his mind from going back to the dark place of what if. He’s okay, she’s okay, and they’re here together. They’ll be alright. 

“You raised me into who I am. It’s just as much you as it is me.”

Inko nods, finally letting him go and wiping her eyes with trembling hands. 

“Come on, honey, let’s have dinner. Is it okay if we have a movie night, like old times?”

“Yeah mom,” He could have died without ever doing that again, he could have- No. Just breathe. Move forward, “I would really like that.”

---

They eat leftovers on the couch that night, watching some old hero movie. It’s about an american kid that can shoot spider webs from his wrists. Izuku notices that his mom doesn’t suggest his usual All Might movies, but neither of them says anything. There will be time to talk about everything later, but right now, they both just need movie night. 

By the time the credits roll Izuku is nearly half asleep, feeling more relaxed than he has in days with his stomach full and his mom next to him on their little couch. It feels like they’ve carved out their own little bubble of peace while the world outside rages on. It’s waiting for them just behind the front door, but here, tonight, it can’t touch them. 

“Izuku,” His mom nudges his shoulder.

“Hmm” Izuku hums in response, sitting up to keep himself from drifting off again.

“I don’t want to push you, honey, but do you want to go to school tomorrow?”

Izuku pauses for a moment, letting his sluggish brain mull it over. He still needs to finish out the year, and there’s only about a week left anyway. He might as well end on a strong note, even if he doesn’t feel all that strong.

“Yeah, mom, I think I will,” He takes a breath, “Do- do you think I should do something about… this?” He gestures to himself. His white hair, scars, and horns are sure to bring unwelcome attention. There’s not much that can be done about the horns, but he could dye his hair back to green and cover the scars with makeup.

“Do you want to?”

“I’m not sure,” And he really isn’t. On one hand, he’ll have to get used to his new looks eventually, and who better to reveal the new him to than a bunch of people he’ll probably never see again after the week is over? But, on the other hand, can he deal with all the stares and comments and teasing? Can he deal with all that on top of Bakugou giving him hell? Oh shit- Bakugou, “Maybe I should, just for the last week.”

Inko gives him a long look, and Izuku can tell that she’s trying to read his mind again. She’s gotten pretty good at it over the years. 

“Do you want to do it for you, or to avoid Katsuki’s attention?”

Izuku stiffens a little at that. When had she gotten so good at this?

“Mitsuki talked. We both know that there’s probably something going on with you two at school. Is he giving you trouble?”

You want to be a hero? There’s actually a really good way. Take a swan-dive off a rooftop and hope you’re born with a quirk in your next life.

“No. Not anymore,” He won’t be, at least. Izuku can’t afford to let him. He won’t be the victim anymore, “He shouldn’t be how I determine what I do and don’t do anyway. I think I’ll just stay as I am.”

Inko smiles at that, turning away as her eyes begin to water a little, but Izuku notices anyway. 

“Well, on that note, let’s go to bed. We have a big day ahead of us.” Inko gets up, gathering her blanket in one arm, and offering her free hand to Izuku to help him up.

Izuku takes it. He can worry about everything else later, right now he’ll just worry about tomorrow.

---

Annoyingly, tomorrow comes far too soon.

Izuku ducks his head down, ignoring all the pointing and stares as he makes his way to class. He only needs to survive a week of this, and then no one will even know he changed at all. 

He settles in his desk with a sigh, ignoring the way Bakugo’s palms light up with sparks as he catches sight of him. Deep breaths. That’s not his concern right now. He just needs to survive this. It can’t be that hard. 

The whispers around him grow into murmurs until finally, the bell cuts through them. The stares burn like the July sun on already-scorched skin, but he ignores them. Thankfully, he was made medically exempt from his assignments while he was at home, so he doesn’t need to catch up on anything. 

He takes notes as usual, ignoring the way his teacher’s eyes seem to stick to him in shock when he raises his hand to answer a question. Izuku is starting to wish he had just covered up the worst of his transformation, but it’s better to just get all the gawking out of the way quickly. 

The final bell is both salvation and damnation. 

Izuku packed up a few minutes early, so he’s the first person out, but he can hear Bakugou’s heavy footsteps following closely behind him.

Ignore it. 

He can feel his heart speeding up against his will, but he forces himself to keep walking at a leisurely pace. Each second Bakugou doesn’t pounce feels like an eternity.

Finally, as he rounds the corner of the building toward home, he’s slammed against the brick wall. 

Bakugou looks angrier than Izuku has ever seen him, but he keeps his own expression carefully neutral. Bakugou’s two goons trail behind him, one smirking at the display of violence while the other is starting to look a little uncomfortable. 

“Deku,” Bakugou hisses, “Nice makeover.”

He emphasizes his words by shoving Izuku into the wall a little harder. The heat of his palms has already started leaching through Izuku’s jacket, but Izuku refuses to react.

“So you finally decide to get a quirk, huh, loser?” He shoves Izuku again, this time Izuku’s head collide with the brick, making stars dance in his vision. Still, he refuses to react. He will not cry or beg. Not to Bakugou. Not to anyone. Not anymore, “You been holding back all these years to make me look stupid? Or were you just too much of an idiot to figure out where the on switch was?”

Izuku stays quiet. There’s nothing he can say to Bakugo to make him understand just how wrong he is. Hell, if he told him what happened Bakugou would probably just be mad that Izuku hadn’t even managed to die properly.

“Playing the silent game, huh?” Smoke rises from his palms, the burning heat now scorching Izuku’s shoulders, “You’re testing my patience!”

Bakugo slams him against the brick hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs, but still, Izuku refuses to give him the satisfaction. 

“Uh, Bakugou? You might want to calm down a little man-”

“Shut the hell up!”

“Dude, he’s right, UA does a background check and you don’t want something to show up.”

“They’re right, Bakugo,” Izuku finally speaks, “Wouldn’t want to jeopardize your oh-so-heroic future. I can see you have all the makings of a real pillar of virtue.”

“YOU-!” Bakugo pulls a hand back, an explosion already smoking and at the ready to be released into Izuku’s face.

Before he can think, Izuku’s hand is on Bakugo’s forehead. He can see the silvery scars on his arm and hand beginning to glow as he reaches out with his quirk, taking hold of whatever it could catch hold of in Bakugou and squeezing . 

Bakugo goes limp, his eyes going wide as he sinks to his knees. 

“What the hell-” One of Bakugou’s goons whispers backing away, the other following suit.

“ You do not scare me. You will NEVER scare me again. There is power within me that you cannot possibly comprehend. ” Izuku’s voice sounds like a chant, many voices made one, “ You may be strong, but your spirit is frail and twisted. ”

Izuku lets him go, Bakugo slumping over with a pant before skittering back away from Izuku.

“You know, Bakugo,” Izuku continues, watching as the glow fades from his scars, “There was a time when I might have had faith that you would learn from this. But I’ve grown up a lot since then, so I won’t be so naive. I don’t care what you do, or what you think anymore. Honestly, I’m so done giving a shit about you at all. But know this, I will never let you make me afraid again.” He looks down at Bakugou, who is now staring up at him in horror, “You are nothing to me.”

Calmly, Izuku walks past him, hiding his shaking hands in his pockets as he passes. What he’s just done will catch up to him eventually, but right now, he doesn’t regret a word. He continues home, head no longer lowered. He will not cower anymore. 

Chapter Text

The walk home is uneventful, and the house is empty when he finally gets home. A note on the counter letting him know that his mom had gone out to get groceries and meet up with Mitsuki for tea and that she wouldn’t be back until dinner time. 

Izuku sighs, ditching his bag in his room, and stripping out of his school uniform. As tired as he feels, he made a promise to himself that he would train. He might as well start now if he wants to get everything done in time for the UA entrance exams. 

Now in shorts and a t-shirt (aptly labeled) he leaves his own note next to his mother’s to let her know where he’ll be. 

The walk to the beach is shorter than Izuku would like. The air is warm and calm, the sun partially hidden behind spotty clouds, so everything is cast in a soft light. Most of the people on the streets are headed home, or out for the night, and it’s comforting to be surrounded by strangers after the fiasco of a school day. No one even gives him a second glance, because why would they? Now that quirks are so common that no one thinks twice of strange features or unusual markings. It’s refreshing to be just another face among the crowds. 

The beach is practically abandoned, especially since he’s at the edge of the dumping ground. He hops the wall easily, not bothering to find the stairs, and starts to make his way down the beach. 

A figure in the sand catches his attention. At first glance, it looks like a piece of junk that had been dragged off from the main pile, but as he gets closer Izuku can see that it’s actually a person lying in the shadow of the junk pile. 

It’s a kid about his age, in a black school uniform with a shock of bright purple hair. Upon closer inspection, he’s not sleeping as Izuku had thought, and he looks pretty rough. The boy’s eyes are closed, but his breath hitches. His face is bruised on one side, blood from a bleeding nose smeared on his face from where the boy had tried to wipe it off. Thankfully, the nose doesn’t seem broken, but still, it's not a good sign if the kid is lying here in the sand like that.

Izuku shrugs, not entirely sure what his plan for the situation is, and lies down on the sand next to the boy with a huff.

“Long day?” He asks, voice light.

The boy next to him shifts, turning to look at Izuku with a glare. A glare that Izuku does his best to ignore. His nerves are still alight from his fight with Bakugo, but right now this guy looks like he needs someone stable.

“What the hell do you want?” The boy’s voice is hoarse, but he still manages to sound pretty threatening. Or, at least it would be, if there weren't still traces of tears visible in the dust that coats the boy’s face, likely from the sand. 

“Nothing?” Izuku is not one to be intimidated by a little stand-offishness. He’s seen better, “I’m really just wondering if you’re okay.”

“Yeah, well I’m not your charity case,” Izuku nearly flinches at the boy’s expression. He hadn’t seen that since he looked at his own reflection in the pond when he went to retrieve his notebook. Before he had- no. No. Stay here, now. Someone needs you, dammit, “If you want brownie points for helping the freak you’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“Never thought you were a charity case, just looks like you’re having a rough day. Besides, who would I have to brag to, no one is here except us two.” Izuku keeps his voice light, but he can’t help the note of urgency that bleeds through. The situation is delicate. What would he have done for himself? What had he needed to hear?

“Just go awa-”

“Also,” Izuku interrupts, putting a hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. He hadn’t really needed to hear much of anything. He had just needed someone to be there. He needed someone to care, someone to believe in him other than himself, “Out of the two of us, only one has antlers, so I think I get the freak title.”

“You… what?” The boy sits up now, staring at Izuku in confusion. Good, keep his attention. Don’t let him slip into his own thoughts right now.

“You heard me, I win. Fair and square, purple.” Izuku jokes. He needs to keep throwing out surprises. He needs to keep him distracted until he can calm down enough to talk to him.

“Purple?”

“Well, you didn’t give me your name.”

“I-” The boy seems to hesitate, dumbfounded, before he manages to get his defenses back up, the familiar mask of anger and disinterest falling into place. Thankfully, they’re thinner this time. He’s making progress, just keep talking, “Listen, I don’t know who you are, Bambi , but you can take your antlers and your misguided saviour complex and go somewhere else. I was here first.”

“Like I said,” Izuku responds, voice still light, but now laced with sincerity, “I’m just wondering if you’re okay. I’ve-” He hesitates at the memories that come to the surface, he needs to be real with him, he can’t keep distracting him or he’ll just get frustrated, “I’ve seen that look before, and I didn’t want to leave you all alone.”

The boy freezes at that, staring at Izuku with a look that he can’t quite decipher. Instinctively, Izuku taps into his new quirk, just a bit, expanding his energy in a soft aura around him, radiating a sense of calm and safety to the other boy as best he can. This is… new, but if it works, it works.

“Tell me,” Izuku continues, his aura reaches out to embrace the other boy. He can’t see it with his eyes, but he can feel it, the sensation creating an image in his mind’s eye. He really hopes his antlers aren’t growing right now, “What’s going on?”

“I-” The boy hesitates, slumping back down on the sand with a sigh, his body only a little less tense than when their conversation began, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“About what?” Now they’re getting somewhere.

“Everything. Some kids caught me after school today, accused me of-” The boy bites his lip, his breath now shaking as he exhales the words in a pained rush, “They accused me of using my quirk for a test they did badly on, which is bullshit. They didn’t want to listen to me when I tried to explain that it couldn’t have been my fault. They just wanted someone to blame.”

“So they took it out on you.” Izuku finishes for him, “I get that.”

“Do you?” The boy looks almost angry now, “Do you really know what it’s like to be called a villain? To be isolated your entire life because of your quirk? I mean, what even is your quirk, some kind of mutation? Shapeshifting?”

“Oh, this?” Izuku gestures to his face, “Honestly, no one is sure yet. I got it like a week ago. I’m a late bloomer,” The boy goes quiet at that, “And I can understand. The only thing worse than a villainous quirk is no quirk at all. I’ve hidden my fair share of bruises and burns. And as for the isolation? Yeah, no one wants to risk being associated with the quirkless loser.”

“I- I’m-”

“You do have one on me, though,” Izuku continues, tone still light, though his expression says otherwise, “They never called me a villain, they preferred to use Deku.”

“O-Oh, I guess you do get it.” 

“But hey,” Izuku forces a cheerfulness into his tone that he reality doesn’t feel. He doesn’t need to make this guy feel any worse by accidentally guilt-tripping him, “Enough about me. What about you, what’s your deal?”

“I- uh-” Shinsou hesitates, it’s been nice, he thinks, being treated like a regular person, but it was bound to end eventually, “I can control minds.”

He closes his eyes, waiting for the boot to drop.

“Huh, no way,” Izuku huffs a laugh, “That’s actually super cool. Is it like a psychic thing, or do you have to touch them, or what?”

Okay, this person is apparently weirder than Shinsou thought, but he’s not running away, so…

“I, uh, they have to answer me. Like a question or something. Then I can sort of take over. But I can’t make people do stuff like talk or write, I’m not able to control higher brain functions, at least, not last I checked.”

“Incredible.” Izuku breathes, the old gears turning in his head, analyzing, categorizing, questioning, “That would be the perfect quirk for hero work. You could save lives without ever having to fight. You could de-escalate situations without having to put anyone at risk. You could-” Izuku cuts himself off, the guy looks like he’s about to cry and Izuku can’t tell if it’s in a good way, or if he just majorly overstepped on a sensitive topic, “Sorry, I tend to get ahead of myself.”

“No, no,” Shinsou begs his eyes to stop burning, “It’s okay. It’s- it’s more than okay. I- No one’s ever told me that before. It’s always been my dream, to be a hero.”

“Huh, me too.” Izuku smiles at him, oh thank God, “I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

“So, why do you want to be a hero?”

Izuku’s smile suddenly drops, and he turns away. Memories of the day before, All Might standing over him, bitter taste of resent thick on his tongue.

“Oh-” Shinsou looks like Izuku just slapped him, “A-are you okay? I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s- it’s fine. I guess,” Izuku takes a steadying breath, “My reasons just changed so recently, so it's a bit personal is all.”

“Oh, well, you don’t have to-”

“No, it’s okay, it’s a fair question,” Izuku sighs, steeling himself, obviously he can’t tell this guy everything that happened, but maybe he can tell him something. If he keeps holding all of it inside of him it feels as though he’ll go insane, “You know that thing that people always say, to never meet your idols?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s good advice. Advice I wish I had listened to. But we don’t really get to choose our lot in life. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and, essentially, it didn’t go well. Like, it really didn’t go well. Ironically, it sort of indirectly caused my quirk to manifest. Stress and all that. I guess that I want to be a hero for a few reasons. First, I want to be the hero that I needed, so maybe I can help other people like me, and second, I want to prove some people wrong. Though, that’s kind of petty, isn’t it?”

Izuku laughs, but there’s no heart in it.

“No.” Shinsou stares at him with an intensity that catches Izuku off-guard, “I don’t think it’s petty at all. That’s why I’m doing it. I mean, obviously, it’s because I want to help people and make a difference, but also because I want to prove myself. Not just to prove everyone wrong about me, though that’s a big part, but also… to prove to myself that I can do it because when you spend your whole life hearing what others think you are, it can be hard to remember who you actually are, you know?”

Izuku is smiling again, though this time there’s a fire to match Shinsou’s in his eyes, He does, he does know, “Say, where are you wanting to go to school?”

“UA, why?”

“Good. I’m headed there too,” Izuku stands, brushing himself off and offering Shinsou a hand, something both protective and defiant burning in his chest, it looks like his first act as a hero will begin at the beach after all, though not in the way he had expected, “What do you say we go together? We’ll prove them all wrong, UA won’t know what hit it.”

Shinsou only hesitates for a second, seemingly unsure of what to do with the offered hand. Finally, he takes it, not bothering to hide his own smile as Izuku drags him to his feet. 

“How do we start?”

“Well, first you should probably tell me your name, and we’ll go from there.”

“Shinsou, Hitoshi. You?”

“Izuku Midoriya. It’s a pleasure, Shinsou.”

---

An hour later they’ve managed to come up with a joint training schedule, Izuku having convinced Shinsou to join him in cleaning up the beach. The sun is setting as they finally start the long walk back toward the city.

“Hey, Shinsou, you got any plans tonight?” Izuku asks, not looking up from his phone as he texts his mother. Shinsou looks worlds better than he had when Izuku found him, but his stomach knots at the thought of leaving him alone after the day he’s had.

“No, my parents are working late, why?”

“My mom is making dinner and I just asked if I could bring a friend. She said yes, so…”

“A… friend?”

“Well I didn’t want to say, ‘hey, mom, I found a guy on the beach, can I keep him?’” Izuku chuckles, “Besides, I get the feeling I’m gonna want to keep you around.”

Shinsou can’t help but huff a laugh of his own at that. 

“Thanks, Midoriya,” Shinsou bumps his shoulder as they walk, “I’d love to.”

“Sweet, I’ll let her know, but I’m not responsible if she tries to hug you to death or something. It’s been a while since I had someone over.”

“Ah, well, that’s fair.”

“Come on,” Izuku urges, already starting to jog, “Onward into the belly of the beast!”

Shinsou laughs, running after him. 

---

By the time they reach the Midoriya household both boys are panting heavily, Shinsou practically falling over from exhaustion after their race up the stairs. Izuku had won, though only barely. 

“I’ll get you- next time- you bastard-” Shinsou leans over, hands on his knees as he desperately tries to suck in more oxygen.

“You- can try,” Izuku wheezes back. He hadn’t used his quirk to help himself move faster, so he’s not much better off than Shinsou.

Suddenly, the door to the apartment swings open, Inko standing there with a spoon in her hands.

“Oh, hello! I thought I heard something out here. You boys got here fast.”

“Yeah-” Izuku wheezes, “Mom- this is- Shinsou.”

“Nice to meet you,” Shinsou wheezes, still doubled over, and now laughing at how weird he and Izuku must look, “Ms. Midoriya.”

Inko laughs, watching as the boys try and fail to pull themselves together. Her laughing stops when Izuku’s new friend steps into the light coming through their door, though. One side of the boy’s face is covered in bruises, small splatters of blood marking his shirt. 

“Oh my,” She mumbles, “Shinsou, honey, are you okay?”

“Huh?” Shinsou brings a hand up to his face where Inko is staring, hissing as his fingers press the bruises there, “Oh, right. Yeah, I’m fine. I just got into an, um, accident.”

“He got jumped after class by some assholes,” Midoriya adds.

“Oh no, poor dear,” Inko steps back from the doorway so they can pass, “come in boys, let's get you cleaned up for dinner. And Izuku, language, dear.”

“Right,” Izuku mumbles, taking hold of Shinsou by the shoulder and dragging him into the house behind him, “Come on, Shinsou, let’s wash up.”

Shinsou lets it happen, too confused to be mad at Midoriya for ratting him out.

“Here we are,” Izuku leads him to a bedroom down the hall, opening the door for Shinsou. 

The room is simple if a little plain. Small holes in the walls indicate that there used to be things hanging up, but the walls are now blank. Maybe they just moved in? Izuku follows him in, already rifling through a set of drawers. 

“You can set your bag wherever you want. Here,” He tosses a t-shirt that Shinsou only barely manages to catch, “Your shirt has blood on it, so I figured you’d want to wear something else. You can have the bathroom first to clean up and change. Just leave your shirt on the counter and we can wash it while we have dinner. I should probably change too.” He gestures to the dirt and dust left by the sand that coats his clothes.

“Are you sure?” Shinsou asks, trying to get a look at just how bad the bloodstains on his shirt are, “You really don’t have to do all that.” 

“I insist,” Izuku smiles at him, digging his own change of clothes out, “Can’t have our dinner guests looking like they lost a street fight.”

“Pff,” Shinsou turns toward the door, already headed toward the bathroom that Izuku had pointed out on their way in, “You should see the other guy.”

He hears Izuku’s laugh as he closes the bathroom door, taking a deep breath. This day had gone from bad to… weird. Maybe following some random stranger he just met back to their house wasn’t the best idea, but he didn’t really want to leave this guy yet. He was actually really nice to be around. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges and scarily self-motivated, but he’s also funny and kind, and he doesn’t treat Shinsou like he’s some kind of monster. 

He slips off his shirt, taking a look at his injuries in the mirror. The bruises on the left side of his face are pretty dark, but they’re shallow enough that they should heal without any issues. Thankfully, his nose isn’t broken, even if it had bled a lot. He turns on the sink, scrubbing the dust and dried blood off his face and chest.

Now looking like a soaked rat (he always got his hair wet, not matter how he went about it), he slips on the t-shirt that Izuku had lent him. It’s just a simple oversized t-shirt, but still, Shinsou has to fight himself not to tear up at the gesture. It’s been a long time since he felt like someone had been so considerate to him. All his life he had been a sort of background influence. Sure, his parents loved him, but in the last year their careers really took off, so he’s gotten used to an empty house and instant ramen. Silence became a sort of creeping ivy, slowly encroaching more and more of his life. No one risked talking to him at school because of his quirk, and since no one was home, he didn’t exactly have a lot of conversations. 

Sometimes he would try to turn on the television or some music, but it wasn’t the same. One night he managed to turn on every device with a speaker to full volume, not even bothering to care about what they played, but all he managed to do was stress himself out with all the noise.

But… now he can hear Midoriya’s mom shuffling in the kitchen down the hall, and there’s a friendly face just on the other side of the door that actually wants to talk to him. It’s overwhelming, but not in a bad way.

He takes a deep breath, carding his hands through his hair to reassert some semblance of order before he opens the door with a smile. He’s a friend, visiting a friend, for the first time he can remember.

---

Chapter meme:

*Izuku @ Shinsou when he brings him home*

Chapter Text

School ends without much fanfare, and summer begins in earnest. Izuku manages to slip quietly beneath the radar, reveling in the feeling of freedom that anonymity grants him. He even gets complimented on his antlers on the train one evening, and as strange as that interaction was, it was also nice. 

He and Shinsou make a routine together, Shinsou crashing at the Midoriyas’ more often than not with his parents so busy. Izuku learned that Shinsou’s dad is a doctor with a quirk that makes him capable of functioning without sleep, though he does have to do regular meditations so he can flush out the metabolic byproducts that can build up. His quirk allows him to consciously control these processes and accelerate them without ever needing to be unconscious. Because of his unique ability and his intelligence he’s become a highly requested surgeon, capable of performing long and difficult operations without tiring or losing concentration. His mother is also in the medical field, often working late hours in the ER or working alongside Shinsou’s father. Her quirk is called Suggestion, and it allows her to control a person with their permission. She is able to ask a patient whether they want to calm down or go to sleep and if they say yes she can take over, forcing their bodies to obey their minds. She’s apparently a godsend when Shinsou has trouble falling asleep at night (which is often), so when she’s gone for more than a few days he can get a little antsy.

Shinsou had ended up with some weird combination, so he can use people’s responses to control their minds, and vicariously, their bodies. Unfortunately, he still needs to sleep, and instead of controlling his own brain, he can only control other people’s. Still, as far as combos go, Shinsou lucked out in a pretty major way. 

They haven’t started to incorporate quirks into their training yet, and Izuku would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little hesitant to do so. He had only glanced at his report once since he had gotten it, despite watching his mother pore over it every time she thought he wasn’t looking. It really only raised more questions than it answered, so there’s not so much that Izuku can do with it. A mostly-empty journal sits on his desk, collecting dust, dedicated wholly to analyzing his new quirk. He knows he really should be working on it and figuring it out. Had he developed it naturally he knows he would be doing just that, neck deep in notes at this point, but as it is he feels as though he got his quirk through dishonest means. Not only did he cheat death, and betray everyone who cares about him, he had come out of it with superpowers. It doesn’t feel fair. He keeps waiting for the consequences to drop on his head, and the longer they fail to do so, the more hesitant he gets. 

They’re nearing the end of July when Shinsou finally brings it up. They’re sitting on the sea wall, drinking water and sitting in comfortable, exhausted silence after a full day’s training. Everything is still except for the steady rhythm of Shinsou’s bouncing leg, indicating that he’s nervous about something. Izuku has learned to notice the signs, so he’s not surprised when Shinsou clears his throat.

“So,” He starts, somewhat hesitantly, “I know we’re both a little… prickly, about our quirks, but we’ve improved so much since May, physically, and it might be time to start training in other ways too.”

“Yeah,” Izuku sighs, “We should probably start learning hand-to-hand as well.”

“Subject change.” Shinsou points out, a habit he had developed to call Izuku out when he tries to avoid talking about things, which is often.

“I know, I know,” He leans back, staring woefully at the sky, “I just- It doesn’t feel like it’s mine, y’know?”

“Not really,” Shinsou offers with a thoughtful sip from his water bottle.

“Yeah,” Izuku stares down at the hands in his lap, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, “I just feel like I’m cheating somehow, like I took a quirk that shouldn’t have been mine. I was quirkless for so long, and I had to almost die to get one, it just feels… unfair somehow-”

“Shut up.” Shinsou interrupts, mouth set in a hard line, “I’ve met a lot of bastards with incredible quirks, Izuku, you deserve more than all of them combined, and don’t you dare let anyone or anything convince you otherwise.”

“Shinsou-”

“-I’m not done.” Shinsou stops him, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed, whether from exercise or something else, Izuku can’t tell, “You’re more of a hero than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. You- you-” his tongue seems to stick in his mouth, “You saved me. That day on the beach. I never told you, but I was in a really dark place, and you just climbed right in and pulled me out.” Shinsou lets a trace of a smile sneak onto his face, “Even when I told you to mind your own damn business.”

“Never been good at that.” Izuku offers, smiling his brightest to hide the tears that have nearly returned to his eyes. He had suspected when he found him, but hearing it directly from Shinsou is different. He’s so glad he managed to find him in time.

“Yeah, and thank God for that,” Shinsou smiles back at him, “You’re going to be a hero, Izuku, and so we have some work to do on that quirk. Everyone else at the exam will have had their entire lives to train their abilities, but you’ll be only a few months in. You’re smart, and your quirk seems to be pretty well developed already from what you’ve told me, so you won’t be at a five-year-old level, but you’ll still be at a disadvantage.”

“I know, but- well- what about your quirk? Shouldn’t we train it as well?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Shinsou sighs, “But I have to use another person to train it, and I don’t know if I want to use my quirk on you.”

“Well, I have been kind of curious about how it feels to be under its influence,” Izuku looks away, not entirely sure why he’s embarrassed by that confession, “You can try it out now, and if I can’t handle it we can figure out a different way.”

“Right now?” Shinsou stares at him with wide eyes, surprised that Izuku seems to have no hesitancy about it at all. His trust is still a shock, if a pleasant one.

“Yeah, you could have me make a weird face or wave or something.” 

“Okay, yeah, I guess we could.”

“Okay,” Izuku turns to face him, expression comically serious. Shinsou holds back a laugh for his sake, “Go for it.”

“Alright, what’s your favorite color, Izuku?”

“Purpl-” Izuku blurts, turning red for a split second before Shinsou takes hold, his expression turning blank.

“Purple?” Shinsou mutters to himself, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his stomach. There’s no need for that nonsense. Izuku probably just called the color that was standing out most in his line of sight, that’s all. He shakes his head, focusing on what he’s supposed to be doing. 

“Raise your right arm.”

Izuku does so, looking like he has the answer to a very boring question in class. Shinsou lets himself huff a laugh at that. As long as Izuku isn’t some kind of weird exception, he shouldn’t remember anything from being under Shinsou’s influence. 

“Alright, put your arm back down.” Izuku does so and Shinsou releases his hold on him. 

Izuku blinks, letting his pupils re-adjust as his eyesight goes from spaced-out to normal. 

“Oh my God,” Izuku murmurs and Shinsou flinches, waiting for the oncoming rejection, “That was so cool!”

“What-”

“It’s like you just hit the pause button on my brain. It was like a tug, and then I was back and everything was a bit fuzzy, but that’s so cool. I can’t even feel any side effects.”

Shinsou can’t help but laugh a little under his breath as he watches Izuku geek out about his quirk (again). It’s just so genuine and refreshing. It’s been more than three months since they met, but Izuku still surprises him on the regular. 

“Let’s do it again!” Izuku looks at him expectantly.

“Wait, wait, just hold on,” Shinsou does his best to calm him down a bit, “I have some questions first.”

“Shoot.” 

“Are you sure you don’t feel a headache or anything?”

“Nope, not more than the one I already kind of have. I definitely should have had more water before our workout.”

“Drink your water,” Shinsou frowns at him until Izuku complies, “I guess that’s good. Do you remember anything from my takeover?”

“Nope, not really. I have a vague notion of having to reach for something? But no, no specifics or images or anything.”

“Any sound?” 

“No, why?” 

“Oh, uh, reconnaissance,” Shinsou catches himself. Izuku doesn't need to know the real reason he’s asking, “If I take control of someone and lead them off with me, I need to make sure they can’t carry information back to the enemy if they escape.”

“Smart.” Izuku offers, now seemingly running the scenario through his head.

“So, you want to try again?” Shinsou interrupts before he can start muttering again.

“Yeah, let’s do it!” Izuku sits forward again, leaning into Shinsou’s face, and Shinsou has to concentrate very hard on focusing on the task at hand instead of counting Izuku’s freckles or staring at his wide green eyes. 

“Okay, uh, what’s the capital of Japan?”

“Tokyo-”

Shinsou takes control, frowning a bit as the blank expression takes over Izuku’s smile. 

“You know, you’re a really good friend, Midoriya,” Shinsou leans back, pretending that Izuku can hear him. He’ll have the guts to really say this to him soon, but right now he really needs to get it off his chest without having a panic attack, “Unfortunately for me, you’re also really pretty and charming and I am weak of heart. Part of me wants this little- thing - to go away, but I also- I kind of like it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship or make you uncomfortable, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep it hidden. You’re so selfless. Too selfless, sometimes. And I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it in your eyes when you think I’m not looking, but I’m here for you. Just like you were there for me. I just-” He turns to Izuku’s blank, staring face, sighing as his eyes trace the scars that lace his skin, “I wish you could let me in a little. You don’t have to be perfect for me, you just need to be you, even if that means you’re a mess sometimes. I worry about you.”

He scans Izuku’s face for any sign of understanding, and finding none, he continues.

“I’d be lost without you. Worse than lost, probably. I like to think I’m a strong person, but I was drowning. I still am sometimes, but you make it a bit easier to keep swimming. I get to sit on dry ground and soak in the sun sometimes now. It makes the cold of the water seem less painful. I don’t know where I’m going with this metaphor, but the point is that you make it a little easier to be alive, and I’m grateful for that.”

Izuku, of course, doesn’t answer, and Shinsou smiles, now eager to let his friend get back to his rambling. 

“Alright, I’ll wrap it up. Raise your left hand.” Izuku does so.

“And put it back down.” Izuku follows suit, and Shinsou releases him. 

“Woah,” Izuku blinks owlishly as he regains his bearings, “That one felt longer. It’s kinda nice to have a quiet brain for once.” Izuku laughs, and Shinsou joins him.

“Yeah, I already have to listen to your ramblings, I can’t imagine having that non-stop in my head all the time.”

“Oh yeah,” Izuku shudders theatrically, a small hint of a genuine grimace being hidden beneath his joking demeanor, “It’s like having my own personal psychic auctioneer, but instead of selling things he just narrates my biggest embarrassments at high speed.”

“Yikes,” Shinsou laughs, gathering his jacket and water bottle, “Come on, let’s head back.”

“Sounds good,” Izuku rises with a pained grunt, his legs rather sore from their intense trail run the day before.

That night they fall asleep on Midoriya’s living room floor after a loud game of Uno, Inko placing blankets over them, but otherwise leaving them be. Her boys are doing so well. They’re going to be unstoppable together. 

In the next few months, her hypothesis will only grow stronger, but tonight she’ll just try to keep it down as she finishes the dishes so they can sleep.

Chapter Text

Their new schedule is effective, but brutal. He and Shinsou had had an hour-long discussion (supplemented by Inko at random intervals) and had come to the conclusion that it was time to diversify their training. They found a local dojo where they go for hand to hand lessons on tuesdays and thursdays, which have quickly become Izuku’s favorite days, even if it’s only been a week. After having their asses handed to them the first day, they now know enough to avoid being downed within thirty seconds, but the progress will likely be slower-going than he would prefer. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Izuku meets Shinsou at the beach about dawn and they haul off trash, followed by a run. These are Shinsou’s favorite days because he loves climbing the piles to throw things down to Izuku. His muscles have already started to reflect this, as he’s gotten more lithe and lean, while Midoriya gets a bit more stocky and built. 

Today is Saturday, the start of the weekend which is now dedicated to rest, flexibility, and quirk training. Izuku’s stomach is in knots as he walks. He’ll be meeting Shinsou at a quirk gym a little further into the city so they can train within legal confines. They had already completed the sign-up and waiver process online (Izuku having to provide his quirk report since his quirk is so new) so all they have to do now is sign in. 

He spots a familiar shock of purple hair in the meandering crowd in front of the quirk gym, and his heart drops a little. He had been secretly hoping Shinsou might forget that they were supposed to meet this morning, even though he had yet to forget a meeting. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Shinsou, that couldn’t be further from the truth, he’s just worried about what this training will entail. 

Shinsou has already tested his quirk on Izuku, so they know that it’s safe for him to do so, but Izuku hadn’t used his quirk on anybody except the sludge villain and Bakugo, both of which seemed to end badly for the recipient and were the result of adrenaline-fueled defense. Izuku’s quirk feels almost like an additional invisible limb. He instinctively understands how to do some things, but others will likely require some sort of hypothetical muscle memory. He has no idea how strong it is, or how to control it, and with such a vague report, there’s not many answers for all his questions. The thought of using it in an offensive capacity, especially against his friend, feels wrong.

“Hey, Midoriya!” Shinsou waves his arm above the crowd to catch Izuku’s attention, and Izuku curses under his breath as he realizes he just ruined his one chance to turn back around and forget all this nonsense. 

“Shinsou!” He calls back with a forced smile, making his way through the early morning commuters to lean against the wall by his friend.

“You ready to head in? I figured I’d wait for you.” Shinsou asks with a nervous glance at the door. Izuku guesses that waiting for him was more out of nerves than politeness, but he’ll keep that to himself. 

“Yeah!” Maybe if he acts enthusiastic, he’ll start to feel it, “Let’s do this!” 

Too late to turn back, Izuku leads the way in, scanning his ID and new membership card at the entrance. Shinsou follows suit, and with a nod from the receptionist, they both head in. 

The place is huge in a way that the pictures online couldn’t convey. All around them, the various noises of quirks in use are only partially dampened by the acoustic walls. A directory sign hanging from the ceiling details what each area is for and shows a map of the floors above and below them. With a quick scan, Izuku finds the floor dedicated to private training rooms. There looks to be two that feature psychic training equipment (something Izuku didn’t know existed a week ago, aside from the testing equipment at the hospital), one of which includes soundproofing and full-room gymnastic flooring. 

“There,” He points it out to Shinsou, who squints at the map suspiciously, “If that room is free we can reserve it for the next two hours. We could do some initial testing of our quirks and maybe practice some quirk-combined combat.”

“Hmm,” Shinsou turns his squint to the room Izuku points at, and finding it acceptable, nods, “Looks great, Training Room PsyCom-2, home sweet home.”

“Come on,” Izuku bites back a small laugh, leading the way to the elevator. The room is two floors up and they’ll have to get there fast if they want to reserve it. 

Surprisingly, the floor is almost empty, only a few people milling about the landing where the floor’s reception desk sits. A bored looking man with scaly skin and spiraling horns mans the desk, aimlessly scrolling through something on his computer.

“E-excuse me, sir, we were wondering if Training Room PsyCom-2 is occupied?” Iuku asks.

“Hmm,” the man glances up only briefly, before looking back to his monitor and typing something in, “Nope, that one is probably one of the least popular ones we’ve got.”

“Really?” Shinsou asks.

“Yeah,” The man continues, still bored, “Don’t get many psychic quirks in here unless they’re telekinetic. Most people with psychic quirks don’t really feel the need to train their quirks in a gym like this. So, what, are you two…” he glances back at his monitor with a squint and a smile,  “kick-boxing mind readers or something?”

Shinsou snorts, shaking his head, “Not quite, sir.”

“Ah, fair enough, figured it was worth a shot,” Boredom now somewhat satiated, he finally looks up at the boys, “I’m assuming you want to reserve it, right?”

“Right, could we have it for the next two hours?” Izuku responds, fighting the urge to fiddle with something to calm his nerves.

“Sure thing, here,” He offers them a box labelled ‘PC-2’ grabbing a key fob off the pegboard behind him, “Just put your ID’s and membership cards in there and we’ll keep them here at the desk while you’re in the room. It’s so we know who’s where and helps us make sure we get our keys back.”

Izuku and Shinsou do as instructed, placing their things in the bin, Shinsou taking the offered keyfob. 

“Thanks,” Izuku says to the man, following Shinsou down the hall toward the private rooms.

“Com-11, Com-13, EleCom-2,” Shinsou mumbles, reading the door labels as they pass, giant wall-length reinforced glass windows displaying the rooms on the other side, filled with various types of equipment and padding, or, in one case, insulation, “Ah, here we are, PsyCom-2”

He presses the keyfob to the door, and with a pleasant beep, the door swings open. 

The room is plenty large, with high ceilings and padding covering the floors and walls. A few pieces of equipment sit along one wall, each next to a poster that details exactly how the machine works. 

“Alright,” Shinsou claps his hands together as the door falls closed behind them, “How do we want to do this?”

“I’ll be honest,” Izuku answers hesitantly, “I didn’t really think this far ahead.”

“You? Not thinking this far ahead? What’s next, are you going to start tap dancing?”

“You know I actually took a class back-”

“Nope! Don’t finish that sentence. I want to preserve the image of you being at least slightly cool in my head.”

“Rude.”

“Anyway,” Shinsou continues, more sober now, “I’ve already used my quirk on you, so I think it’s only fair to return the favor. Hit me with everything you’ve got.”

Izuku freezes, thinking of the pained cry of the sludge villain and the way Bakugo had stared at him as though he were a monster. He really, really, doesn’t want to do that to Shinsou.

Shinsou seems to catch on, giving him a look of concern.

“Hey man, you okay? We, uh, we can start small, if you’d rather.”

“Yeah,” Izuku’s mouth still feels dry, but he remembers that there are other ways he can use his quirk, like what he did at the beach when he met Shinsou, or when he had used his touch-empath abilities on auntie Mitsuki to discover her lie, he can do small things, too.

“Alright, so, I’ll stand right here, and you give it a go, and if that doesn’t work, we can do contact. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Izuku fights back his nerves as Shinsou gets into position a few feet in front of him. Pulling on his quirk, Izuku expands it, envisioning it spreading like a mist around him, encompassing Shinsou. He taps into the sense of peace and safety he had used at the beach, flooding it into the space around him.

“Whoah, I feel weird, are you doing that?” Shinsou hadn’t noticed at the beach, but he had been in emotional turmoil, so it makes sense that he could feel it now, especially since he’s focusing on it.

“Yeah, what does it feel like?”

“Uh, I don’t know, sort of, peaceful? It’s like something is taking my anxiety and, uh, fears, I guess, and smoothing them down? I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s just sort of warm and still. Like a calm pool of water.” Shinsou smiles as his explanation goes on, closing his eyes to relish in the feeling.

“Okay, good, I’m going to try something.” Izuku focuses on it, fortifying the energy around him, strengthening his signal.

“Midoriya, my man, feel free to do this literally anytime.”

Izuku snorts a laugh at that, holding it steady and closing his eyes to focus. Something seems to radiate back at him from Shinsou, something warm, but more vibrant than the calm Izuku is emitting. Izuku feels it in his chest, where it settles like a warm weight on his heart.

“Huh,” He mumbles, “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Shinsou drawls, now fully relaxed into Izuku’s aura.

“Are you feeling anything different?”

“Nope, not really, the feeling is getting stronger, but it’s not different.”

“Oh,” So apparently there’s some sort of one-sided connection forming. He must be able to feel the emotions of anyone in his energy field. If that’s the case, then what exactly is he picking up from Shinsou? Probably some form of contentment, or something. An empathetic connection is only as good as the empath, so Izuku will have to get better at identifying nuanced emotions. It’s no bother, as long as it’s a positive emotion, then everything is going as planned. 

Izuku continues increasing the strength of his aura, ignoring the slight pressure that has started to form behind his eyes.

“Whoah, dude, that’s crazy.” Shinsou mumbles.

“What is?” Izuku opens his eyes, but keeps a tight hold on his aura.

“Your antlers, dude, they’re bigger now, and I think they’re starting to glow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, looks kind of boss.”

Izuku fights back a laugh, instead closing his eyes again to focus even harder, tapping into more of his quirk and ignoring the pressure that grows in his skull.

“Whoah, this is crazy.”

“Tell me what’s happening.” Izuku forces out, now fighting the pressure in his head to keep emitting at this level.

“Well, first of all, they’re definitely glowing now. You’re probably a six-pointer at this point,” Shinsou pauses, counting under his breath, “Yeah, definitely a six-pointer. Your scars are glowing, too.”

“What’s a-” Izuku clenches his teeth against a wave of nausea, “What’s a six-pointer?”

“Oh, a six-pointer, like how many points your antlers have. My uncle likes to hunt, so I guess I picked up a thing or two.”

Shinsou seems distracted, normally he would notice Izuku’s strain and admonish him by now, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Izuku forces his eyes open, and sure enough, Shinsou stands with his pupils blown wide, posture completely relaxed, a small, dopey smile on his face.

“Okay,” Izuku hisses through his clenched teeth, “I’m going to start releasing it now.”

“Aw.” Shinsou pouts.

Slowly, Izuku eases back, decreasing the strength of his aura until the pain behind his eyes has faded almost completely. He’s still able to maintain a low-level aura without any pain, but based on how Shinsou’s smile fades and the tightness starts to return to his shoulders, Shinsou’s tension returns to it’s original levels from before Izuku had applied his quirk.

With a sigh, Izuku turns his quirk off completely.

“Okay, you did not tell me you could do that.” Shinsou grins.

“To be fair, I didn’t know I could do it like that until just now.”

“That was awesome,” Shinsou breathes, “I bet that’s what heroin feels like.”

“Please don’t test that theory.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t need to, just remind me to keep you around for forever.”

“Bold of you to assume you could get rid of me.” Izuku laughs.

“ Touché .”

Izuku grabs his water bottle, taking a sip before he deposits it back on the matted floor.

“Okay, so did you want to do a contact test? Or should we move on to using your quirk in combat?” 

“Nice try, we need to test your quirk a little more before we use mine. You said you’ve used yours offensively before, right?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t think we should test that.” Izuku feels sick just thinking about it.

“Come on, show me what you can do.”

“Here, there is something I know I can test,” Izuku takes Shinsou’s hand, letting his palms come in contact with Shinsou’s, “If I activate my quirk I can be a sort of lie detector.”

“Oh,” Shinsou swallows, his face now a bit red, though Izuku isn’t sure why, “Yeah, let's give that a try, go for it.”

“Okay,” Izuku activates his quirk again, this time focusing the energy toward his palm, feeling it reach out and connect with Shinsou’s emotions, “Let’s start easy, tell me the truth to this: What is your name?”

“Shinsou.”

The connection holds steady, the nervous background static that Shinsou seems to be experiencing low-level keeps going, but it doesn’t spike or change in any way. 

“Okay, good, now I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to lie. Do you have any questions you’d prefer?”

“Uh, I guess you could just ask me how my day has been.”

“Alright, how has your day been, Shinsou?”

“Absolutely horrid, I had to wake up early and go to a weird gym with this loser that looks like a half-assed Bambi and Jack Frost fusion.”

Izuku snorts, feeling the spike of amusement and warmth that spreads through Shinsou in response. The subtle sensation of ‘incorrect’ laces the words, just as it had with Mitsuki. 

“Alright, now we need to try a more difficult one, tell me a lie or a truth that I wouldn’t know, and I’ll try and tell which it is.”

“Alright, um, let’s see,” Shinsou murmurs, taking a second to figure something out. A random spike in nerves surprises Izuku, but whatever thought had made Shinsou suddenly nervous seems to be discarded pretty quickly, “When I was a kid, we had a pet dog named Snuffles.”

“Too easy,” Izuku feels the lie before Shinsou even gets the words out, “Try another one.”

“Okay, um, I once watched a cat steal from a noodle cart and I didn’t stop it, even though I could have.”

Izuku waits for the sensation to come, but it doesn’t.

“Wait,” He laughs, “Really?”

“Yeah, really, really, I’m no snitch.”

Izuku snorts, quickly pulling himself together, but unable to wipe the smile from his face, “Alright, try another.”

“Uh, I’m really good at chess.” The lie is obvious.

“No you are not.”

“No,” Shinsou smiles, “I am not.”

“Okay, one more and then we’ll do some combat practice.”

“Okay, I’ll give you another easy one: you’re my best friend.”

This one feels weird. It doesn’t feel like a lie, but it also doesn’t feel like a complete truth. The longer Izuku stays silent, the more Shinsou’s anxiety spikes, taking over the warm sensation that had accompanied the words.

“Huh, I actually can’t completely tell with this one. It’s like a partial truth. Did you maybe have a best friend before we met?”

There’s a spike in anxiety before Shinsou suddenly snatches his hand back, feigning that he was just going for his water.

“Uh, yeah. Had one when I was little. You know, pre-quirks.” Shinsou’s hand shakes slightly as he takes a sip from his water.

Izuku doesn’t need his quirk to know that that’s not the complete truth either, but it’s not his place to call Shinsou on this. He’ll tell him when he’s ready, and if he never is ready, that’s okay too. 

“Huh, neat,” Izuku offers him a smile, “What do you say we get some quirk-active combat practice?”

“Yes please,” Shinsou walks quickly toward the mats in the open area of the room, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for Izuku to take another drink of water before joining him. 

“Alright, ground rules?” Izuku asks, getting into his stance. 

“Pretty simple, no cheap shots- yet- and you can use your quirk.”

“Yet?”

“I think training against each other without holding back will be good for us in the future, but not today, since we’re just starting out.”

“Sounds good, signal when.”

Shinsou nods, getting into stance himself.

“Go.” 

Izuku takes a swing at him, but Shinsou has already moved to the side, lashing out with a kick. Izuku catches it, pushing Shinsou off-balance. Shinsou recovers quickly, moving in to strike an elbow to Izuku’s ribs.

“Oof,” Izuku takes the hit, managing to stay on his feet and land his own hit as a punch to Shinsou’s gut.

Shinsou wheezes, moving back and hugging himself around the middle, “Okay, good shot.”

“Come at me,” Izuku moves into a defensive stance, letting Shinsou charge.

They go back and forth for a while before Shinsou catches Izuku in a choke hold. Unbothered, Izuku just takes hold of Shinsou’s arms, pulling them forward and leaning to toss Shinsou over him. Shinsou lands flat on his back, quickly recovering and pulling himself back up.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” He hisses.

“Am I-?” Izuku feels the familiar tug as Shinsou takes over, silently cursing himself before his mind fades to blank.

“Just,” Shinsou doubles over, hands on his knees, as he sucks in air, “Stand there for a bit. God, how do you have this much stamina? Ugh.”

“Okay,” He straightens back up, “Let’s see what we can do. Oh, I know, this will piss you off. Lay down.”

Izuku does so, and Shinsou places his foot over Izuku’s chest, careful to only use enough weight to pin the other boy down. With a smug smile, Shinsou releases his quirk. 

Izuku only takes a second to blink back into focus, immediately grabbing Shinsou’s foot and rolling, throwing the other boy face-first into the floor.

“Arg,” Shinsou rolls back over to find a smiling Izuku watching him struggle, “I thought I said no cheap shots.”

Izuku doesn’t answer, only offering him a hand to get up. Shinsou frowns, apparently Izuku has caught onto that as well. Dammit. 

Shinsou takes the offered hand, not letting go as he gets to his feet and taking the opportunity to turn, tucking the hand to his chest and tossing Izuku over his shoulder. Izuku hits with a stunned gasp and Shinsou immediately follows it with a feigned kick to the ribs, but before he can divert, he’s tackled to the ground in a movement too quick for his eyes to fully catch. Izuku is on top of him before he can process anything, his antlers growing, eyes and scars glowing. He shoves a hand into Shinsou’s chest.

“Wha-” Shinsou doesn’t get to finish as his eyes meet Midoriya’s blank, glowing gaze and a sense of overwhelming dread fills him, paralyzing him. 

A tugging sensation, and suddenly the room dissolves and he’s back in his kindergarten class. 

“Watch this!” He cheers, he had gotten his quirk the day before, and he’s so excited to show his friends, “What’s your favorite color?”

One of his friends perks up, “Red!” She calls back, her face suddenly falling slack.

“Now flap your arms like a bird.” She does so.

“Shinsou? What’s-” A boy asks, voice full of fear.

“Don’t worry, just watch,” Shinsou assures him, can’t they see how neat this is? “Now smile!” 

The girl smiles, but only her mouth moves, her eyes still dead and vacant. 

“Ah!” The boy backs away, “Stop it, Shinsou! Stop it! Let her go!”

“What?” Shinsou’s smile drops. He must have done something very wrong. His friends are looking at him like they're scared. He’s not scary, it’s just a quirk, that’s all. He let’s the girl go.

She blinks, confused, before she sees everyone’s faces. They stare back at her, terrified, except for Shinsou who looks sheepish. What just happened to her? She can’t remember. She can’t remember!

The girl starts to cry, and Shinsou can only look on helplessly as the teacher leads him away. 

He hears the others talking as he’s led away.

“He used a villain power on you. He made you make a face. It was so scary.”

When Shinsou comes to, he's shaking, tears leaking from his eyes, but he can’t remember when he started crying. Izuku is next to him on the mat, staring at Shinsou with the same horror he had seen in the faces of his friends.

“What-” He chokes on his words, his throat closed up with fear, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku looks away, covering his face with his hands, breath coming fast, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Shinsou’s heart is pounding, his own breath coming in quick gasps as he tries to fight down the waves of horror and wrongness that wrack his mind and body. 

Izuku turns away from him, curling in on himself. Shinsou wants to reach out to him, but before he can, Izuku’s antlers are growing again, emitting a soft light. 

The feeling of calm overwhelms him, peace replacing turmoil, Shinsou knows it’s Izuku’s quirk again, but this time it’s even stronger than it had been before. Distantly, he wonders whether there’s any drawbacks to using his quirk so intensely, but his worries are quickly swallowed. His shaking fades and he wipes the tears off his face, sitting up lazily to watch Izuku. 

The other boy is curled into a trembling ball beside him, his antlers growing long, even longer then they had before. Something nags at him that something is wrong here, but he can’t quite place it. He pokes at Izuku’s antlers, counting each point as their growth seems to slow to a stop. 

“Three, four, five,” He mumbles, switching to the other antler. He has to reach over Izuku to inspect it, not sure what Izuku is doing all shaky on the floor, “seven, eight, nine, ten! That’s, uh, four more than six! They’re bigger now, Midoriya!” Midoriya doesn’t look up at him, so Shinsou shakes his shoulder, trying to get his friend to uncurl. 

The sensation of calm flickers, some worry bleeding through as he shakes Izuku a little more earnestly.

“Midoriya?” He asks, clarity returning as the sensation fades.

Something red leaks between Midoriya’s fingers and the calming aura finally collapses.

“Whoah, holy shit dude, stop! Izuku’s antlers continue to glow, Izuku curling even tighter into himself, the shaking intensifying. 

“Midoriya! You need to let go!” He pries Izuku’s arms from his face, revealing Izuku’s wide eyes, blood leaking from his nose, mouth moving in a silent murmur.

“Hey! Hey!” Shinsou snaps in front of his face, forcing Izuku’s eyes to focus, “breathe for me, man, steady. Release your quirk.”

Izuku continues to tremble, staring at his hand in confusion. 

“Izuku!” Shinsou practically yells at him. 

Izuku finally seems to come back to him, uncurling a bit and staring at the blood on his own hands. 

“Is this yours?” He whispers in horror.

“No, you big ball of nerves, it’s yours. I think you went overboard with your quirk.”

“I promised that I wouldn’t do that. I promised that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Oh. So that’s what the issue is. Shinsou suppresses a shiver as he thinks about how vividly he had relived his nightmare. It was pretty bad, but thankfully Izuku managed to shut it down before Shinsou could go full panic attack. 

“Hey, it’s okay, man, you fixed it, I’m all good.”

“I know what it is now,” Izuku continues, still shaking, but now with eyes that are far more lucid, “I’m pulling the worst of a person’s soul to the surface and making them face it. You don’t deserve that. I’m so sorry.”

“Come on, let’s go home, we’ve trained enough for today. I’m tired.” It’s only partially true. He just needs to get Izuku moving so he’s grounded back into himself, “I’m going to go get you a paper towel for the blood, go get your water bottle, I’ll be right back.”

Izuku nods, finally getting up, and going to do as he’s told. Shinsou can’t help but notice just how much he looks like when he’s under Shinsou’s quirk. 

--- 

The walk back to the Midoriya’s is silent, and by the time they get there the gears in Izuku’s head are moving at full speed toward nothing good. They greet Inko when they get in, and Shinsou watches as she immediately picks up on Izuku’s mood.

“Are you boys ready for lunch?” she asks cheerily.

“You guys go ahead, I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Izuku?” Shinsou asks.

“I’m alright, I just need to clear my head. Be back in a bit.” Izuku has slipped back out the door before Shinsou can say anything else, and Shinsou reluctantly lets him go. 

He knows that Izuku will seem like he’s back to normal tomorrow. He’ll smile and joke and act like everything is fine, burying everything down where no one can touch it. Izuku is going to take what happened today and shove it into the dark recesses of his mind where Izuku lives between smiles, where Shinsou is not able to go.

“Come on, dear, he’ll be back.” Inko guides him toward the table, and Shinsou let’s her, because he knows they both need something more than silence right now. It seems that Izuku, in all his beautiful noise, has a gift for creating the most choking of silence.

Chapter Text

Izuku wishes so intensely that he could go back to how he had been that morning. He wishes he could still live within that comfortable bubble of ignorance when he wasn’t sure exactly what his quirk was doing to his attackers. His quirk is slowly, grudgingly, forcing him to learn about it. 

So far, he knows he’s able to employ some level of touch empathy, but he still needs to get more practice if he wants to be able to pick up on more nuanced emotions. He can emit a sense of calm by expanding a sort of energy aura toward other people in his general vicinity, but it’s unclear whether he could emit other emotions as well. He’s not sure he’d like to find out. And then there’s that last thing. He knows he did to Shinsou the same thing he did with the sludge villain. He had panicked both times, though Shinsou did not deserve what Izuku did to him. It had felt different from what he did to Bakugou. What he did to Bakugou felt more shallow, like he was simply tugging a bit at something dark, but not fully ripping at it as he had with the others. Either way, somehow Izuku had managed to go easy on his lifelong abuser and then turn around and deliver a psychic gut punch to his best friend. Nice going. 

Still, the central question of what his quirk is remains a mystery. Sure, he has a few tricks, but they’re all coming from the same quirk ability applied in different ways. Typically when someone gets their quirk, they know what it is and develop special applications later, but the universe can’t let Izuku have anything normal, so he’s stuck doing it backward. 

Whatever it is, it seems to have some connection to his energy levels. He’s managed to hide it from Shinsou, but his whole body is shaking like he did an intense workout on an empty stomach. His muscles ache like a fever, nerves raw and tingling. Still, he’s too nervous to even think about food or rest right now.

With a sigh, he finally looks up from his feet. He’s managed to wander quite a ways, no doubt mumbling furiously all the while. At least that explains how he managed not to run into anyone. People tend to give him a wide berth when he’s in full mumbling mode because he looks like a ticked off crazy person. It’s not ideal, but it works.

He’s only a couple of blocks away from Takoba beach where he and Shinsou have been training. Muscle memory must have taken over, but there's no point in changing course now. Besides, the beach always managed to calm him down. 

He continues on his way, kicking pebbles out of his path when he comes across them. He accidentally activates his quirk on one, sending it skidding off with far more force than he had intended to. Whoopee, one more thing his freakish quirk managed to mess up. It’s strange to live your whole life wishing for something, and then receiving it in the worst possible way. It feels like one of those backhanded genie deals he always read about as a kid, except he didn’t really get to explicitly wish for it. Well, in a twisted way, he did. He had taken Bakugou’s advice after all, taken a dive off a roof, hoping for a quirk in his next life. Seems he has only himself to blame no matter how he looks at it.

Izuku jumps the seawall easily, only buckling a bit on impact as his shaky legs try to catch up with his racing mind. The beach is mostly empty, only a few people walking along the water where he and Shinsou had cleared first. Their theory was that if they started with the pieces closest to the water they could minimize the possibility of the trash just being moved down the coast with the tides. So far it seems to be holding up, and it makes for a nice walkway of packed sand when they come out to jog. 

God, he had really messed up. Shinsou hadn’t left him, or freaked out, which is good, but he had definitely been affected. Izuku had seen the tears that started to fall as he forced his best friend to live through his worst fears and memories all because he had been caught by surprise. It had been like his quirk had taken over, as though it were some sort of panic-induced autopilot that activated whenever it thought Izuku might manage to off himself again. If that is the case, it needs to chill the fuck out .

The whole interaction plays on repeat in his mind, highlighting all the places where he could have done this differently or done that differently and avoided the whole situation. No matter how many time he goes over it, it ends the same, with him curled into a pathetic ball and Shinsou doped up on Izuku’s quirk while he tries to snap him out of his shut down. 

“Midoriya?” Izuku had already curled in on himself. He couldn’t let Shinsou see him like this. Oh dear God, it hurts so bad.

“Whoah, holy shit dude, stop!” Something warm is dripping down his face. The space behind his eyes burns and pulses, begging him to close his eyes, but he can’t, he doesn’t want to Shinsou’s anguished face again. He knows it’s burned into his eyelids.

“Midoriya! You need to let go!” Shinsou takes hold of his wrists, prying his hands from in front of his face, exposing him to the light of what he’s done. Oh God, oh God, he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up so bad. 

“Hey! Hey!” Shinsou snaps in front of his face, and Izuku fights to focus on the hand in front of his eyes, “breathe for me, man, steady. Release your quirk.”

Izuku tries to follow his directions, the edges of his vision becoming black as the full force of his panic kicks in. He knows Shinsou is okay, he’s still here and he’s worried dammit. Snap out of it! 

“Izuku!”

Wait. Shinsou had called him Izuku. He had been calling him Izuku ever since they left the gym. How had he not noticed that? Shinsou is at his apartment, with his mom, probably wondering where Izuku has run off to and whether he’s okay and this whole time he’s just been worrying about himself. How dare he pity himself when Shinsou is managing to hold it together and treat him with kindness after he psychically attacked him? 

He needs to pull himself together. He needs to master this quirk and get his emotions under control. He will not allow another person to be subject to the dark side of his quirk. This is the last time he will allow himself to make that mistake. He needs to be strong. For Shinsou.

---

Sunday morning comes with much groaning and dragging of feet. Izuku had gotten back sometime in the late afternoon the day before, and done precisely what Shinsou had suspected he would. It seems that Izuku had not only managed to repress any and all negative emotions (after apologizing profusely to Shinsou and promising nothing like that would ever happen again, even showing him a pair of gloves he had gone out and bought for the sole purpose of making sure he couldn’t use his quirk against Shinsou like that) but he had rebuilt his mask of joy and bubbliness even thicker than before. 

It’s not healthy. Shinsou knows that. Izuku can’t continue on like this without major consequences, and failing to train with a part of his quirk could mean he never learns to control it. But… right now Izuku is laughing at a little girl on the train that is making faces at him over her mom’s shoulder and he’s happy . It’s not like he’ll be able to convince him to change his ways in an afternoon anyway. This will take time, a lot of it. So right now Shinsou will just let him have this and try to keep from snorting out his sip of water when Izuku turns to him with the most accurate imitation of All Might that he’s ever seen. 

The lighthearted atmosphere (that Izuku may or may not be influencing with his quirk, Shinsou can’t quite tell since Izuku can use his aura in small amounts without any quirk indicators) continues up until they’re at the front door of the quirk gym. Izuku pauses for a moment before they can step through, taking a deep breath, and looking at Shinsou with something he can’t quite decipher. It looks almost like he’s asking permission, so Shinsou smiles, even though he desperately wants to make Izuku talk about what happened yesterday, and follows Izuku’s lead.

“After you, m’lady.” He says instead, opening the door for Izuku with a dramatic flourish.

“Hell yeah, I’m a queen !” Izuku responds, strutting through followed by a chuckling Shinsou.

Wordlessly, they make their way toward the private training rooms again. The same receptionist greets them, offering a smile as he continues whatever phone call he’s currently on. 

‘Same room?’ he mouths to the boys.

Shinsou nods, and the man again offers them the bin for their IDs and hands over their key fob.

PsyCom-2 is the same as they left it the day before, their own private corner of the gym, apparently. 

“Alright,” Shinsou starts, shoving his gym bag in one of the cubbies by the door, “How do we want to do this? Should we start with combat or quirk training?”

He’s careful to avoid suggesting they combine the two. They’ll get there again soon, but for today they just need to keep going with what they can handle. 

“Well, we can do quirk training for a good cool-down I guess. Right now we really need to work on hand to hand since we’ll need to be really efficient when we land a hit.”

“Sounds good.” Shinsou makes his way toward the mat, ignoring the pang in his heart as he watches Izuku slip gloves over his shaking hands out of the corner of his eye. This will be fine, they’ll figure this out, eventually.

---

“Oh ho ho! Get wrecked Shinsou!” Izuku laughs over him, having thrown him to the floor for the fifth time in a row, “Gotta work on your balance!”

“Mark my words, Izuku, you will know my pain,” Shinsou grumbles. Izuku freezes at that, and Shinsu can’t help holding his breath, hoping he didn’t say something wrong.

“You called me Izuku.” Izuku breathes, expression unreadable.

“I, uh, yeah. I guess I did. Is that not okay?”

“No- no, um, it’s fine. It’s good, really, I just noticed it yesterday and I guess I was wondering why.”

“Well, it seemed to help ground you, and you didn’t tell me to stop, so I just went with it. And besides, we’ve been friends for a few months now, we practically live together with how often I sleep over, I’d say we’re close enough.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. I’m glad. I like hearing you say my name.” Izuku, seeming to realize what he just said, turns as red as his shoes, “Wait- that came out wrong- I- uh-”

Shinsou just laughs, “How about you try using my name, I bet I’ll like it when you say my name, too.”

Izuku relaxes again, but the blush doesn’t leave his cheeks.

“Alright,” He offers Shinsou a hand, “Hitoshi it is, then.”

Shinsou takes it, pulling Izuku down onto the mat next to him, where he connects with a thump.

“Get wrecked, Izuku.” Shinsou laughs. Yeah, they’ll be alright.

Chapter Text

Training continues, the beach becomes clearer, and the days grow shorter as the UA entrance exams grow closer. Izuku can’t help but notice that he and Shinsou are practically unrecognizable as he watches their reflections in the elevator doors. In the past few months, their bodies have become far more muscular and angular, a fact that still occasionally catches Izuku off-guard, as well as having developed their quirks and skills beyond anything that Izuku had hoped. 

There’s only a month or so left before the entrance exam and Shinsou has had to remind him that they’ll be ready for it more than once in the past few days. Right now they’re headed back to Midoriya’s house. With quirk combat training done for the day, all they have left to do is some quick studying and they’ll have the whole night to mess around and help Inko out with the household chores. 

Today Shinsou had managed to keep hold of Izuku for twenty minutes straight, even managing to keep control when Izuku smacked into a wall while following directions. Shinsou has gotten strong enough to take control even with nonverbal responses now and he can get simple yes or no answers out of people (in this case, mostly Izuku). They’re still working to allow for multi-word answers, but so far the words are slurred and inarticulate, and before Shinsou can repeat the question his headache typically spikes too badly for him to keep control. In hand-to-hand, Shinsou has become tricky. Unlike Izuku, he’s great at hiding what his next move will be, often upsetting the tempo of their sparring matches just to throw Izuku off, but where Shinsou fights smart, Izuku fights feral. 

Izuku’s quirk training has been… interesting. He’s managed to train his quirk as if it were several different quirks. His touch-empathy hasn’t grown much aside from Izuku getting better at reading emotional nuances, but he suspects he won’t be needing to use it in a more advanced manner anyway. His aura projection, on the other hand, has developed substantially. Izuku has figured out how to project any number of feelings and emotions, but his two most reliable are the sense of peace, and, ironically, paralyzing dread. Shinsou had encouraged him to develop the latter even when Izuku had wanted to refuse. Eventually, they compromised and Izuku agreed to train the negative aura only if Shinsou let him use the positive aura to ‘fix’ him afterward. It has gotten to the point that Izuku can expand his aura to the size of the whole floor at a low level, and fill the room at a high level, though he can only maintain it for short periods of time without collapsing or bleeding from his nose again. Overuse also seemed to make his scars ache, but Izuku was happy to keep that to himself. He hadn’t let himself use or train what he refers to as ‘soul-ripping’ ever since that incident months ago, and now consistently wears gloves to train. Shinsou gives him looks whenever he goes to pull them on, but he ignores him. They’ve had all the conversation that Izuku wishes to have on the subject. 

The most interesting part of Izuku’s quirk, however, had been discovered on accident. One night, Shinsou had decided to jump out at him as a prank and Izuku had responded by lighting up like a Christmas tree and turning himself into a human stun gun. After he had stopped laughing, Shinsou had accepted Izuku’s apology, and they had spent the rest of the night trying to recreate the incident. As was mentioned in Izuku’s quirk report, he’s able to manipulate a form of energy similar to electricity, though it doesn’t follow the same rules. Whatever rules it does follow, Izuku doesn’t know. On the few occasions he managed to use it more than once without collapsing, he’d had a noticeable lack of conscious control. Whatever it is, it seems to react to whatever instincts he gave into when he had an adrenaline response, meaning it often knocked Shinsou on his ass unexpectedly. 

As much as Izuku wants to train this aspect of his quirk (because now he has a perfect offensive move that doesn’t involve ripping someone’s mind and soul apart) he had yet to be able to summon it beyond a few arcs along his scars unless he had considerable adrenaline coursing through his veins. At one point he had managed to use it like an electrified gauntlet on his arm, but it had faded as soon as it had been summoned, and Izuku had promptly passed out afterward. That was really the biggest drawback of his energy attacks, they seemed to directly drain his energy with little to no reserve, often resulting in him collapsing or bleeding from his nose (or in one case, the scars on his arm opening up just the slightest and bleeding, he thanks his lucky stars Shinsou hadn’t seen that, because if he had he would have brainwashed Izuku into stopping faster than you could say ‘ouch’). Either way, Izuku, now with a notebook half-full of his observations, is no closer to understanding what his quirk is.

“Punching Polygraph,” Shinsou offers, breaking Izuku out of his thoughts.

“What? No, that’s too long,” Izuku answers with a smile. They’d made a game of offering each other the worst hero names they could think of, though, admittedly, some might actually work.

“Okay, how about Deer Of The Headlights? Get it? Because you’re a deer, and you glow-”

“Okay, I get it. That’s terrible, but I get it. For you… PsychoTroll.”

“What the hell?”

“You ever seen those troll dolls from those antique shows? The weird ones with the hair, yeah, you look like that.”

“You’re one to talk, TaserBambi.”

“I actually kind of like that one. It has a ring to it.” Izuku grins at him.

“No. No, Izuku, it does not.”

“No really, I can see it now: TaserBambi and PsychoTroll, the ultimate crime-fighting duo!” Izuku announces in his best Present Mic impression.

“Punching Polygraph and The Puppeteer, here to make everything worse!” Shinsou adds.

“MindJack and SuperStag, on the scene!”

“SuperStag sounds like a dick joke,” Shinsou laughs, breaking character.

“And MindJack doesn’t?”

“Fair point.”

They fall back into a comfortable silence as they make their way toward the station, and Izuku can’t help but feel like this is one of those moments he’s going to miss someday. Even if he’s freezing and stressed out of his mind, and really wishing he had brought an extra jacket.

“Staginator.” Shinsou states with confidence.

“Oh my god, no,” Yeah , Izuku smiles into the freezing wind that makes his cheeks ache, he’s definitely going to miss this.

---

The morning of the exam sneaks through Izuku’s windows with a fragile gray light, but he and Shinsou aren’t in there to see it. They’ve already been up for over an hour, having gotten all the sleep they could manage with their nerves. 

“This is, without question, the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Shinsou complains as his teeth chatter from the harsh winter wind that billows up from the waves.

“Come on, Shinsou, don’t make me play the Rocky theme song. I’ll do it!” Izuku calls back, leading the way across the sand.

“I will never understand your old movie obsession. The effects are terrible.”

“Oh no! Looks like someone has a bad attitude! You know what this means!” Izuku pulls a bluetooth speaker from his pocket and Shinsou glares.

“You wouldn’t.”

“It’s already queued up,” Izuku shows him his phone, smile growing wider.

“Don’t-” Before Shinsou can finish, Izuku’s ‘Plus Ultra Motivation’ playlist is blasting through the early morning air. 

“Izuku-”

Izuku ignores him, singing along as loudly as he can manage to drown Shinsou out,  opting to dance circles around his less-than-enthusiastic friend rather than listen to him.

“It’s too early for this.”

“IT’S THE- EYE OF THE TIGER! IT'S THE THRILLAHTHE FIGHT! RISING UP, UH, SOMETHING OF OUR RiVaLS!”

“I swear to all that’s holy if you don’t stop-” Shinsou doesn’t get to finish, because it is at this moment that Izuku, quirk activated, lifts Shinsou over his shoulder, and takes off in a dead sprint toward the water, eye of the tiger still basting full volume from the bluetooth speaker in his coat pocket.

“You sonofabitch you wouldn't dare-” Unfortunately, it seems that Izuku would indeed dare, and Shinsou is promptly thrown into the freezing waves, clothes and all.

A splash to his left indicates that Izuku had taken it upon himself to follow Shinsou in. With much spluttering and thrashing, Shinsou manages to make it back to the surface.

“WHAT THE FUCK, IZUKU?!” He screams through his rapidly shivering jaw which clacks his teeth together painfully.

“AHAHAHA!” Izuku responds, throwing himself into the water once more, intercepting an oncoming wave with what would have been a fearsome war cry, had it not been cut short into a gurgle as the wave smacks Izuku in the face.

“YOU’RE CRAZY!” Shinsou screams at him, struggling to regain his footing so he can escape the oncoming waves, “YOU’RE ACTUALLY FUCKING CRAZY!”

“COME ON HITOSHI! SHOW ME YOUR WAR FACE!” Izuku calls back, facing off yet another wave with a scream.

“OH I’LL SHOW YOU SOMETHING-” Escape attempts forgotten, Shinsou tackles Izuku into the oncoming wave, throwing them both beneath it, but more importantly, dunking Izuku. They’re hit by the force of the wave head-on and Shinsou is the first to surface, coughing up brine and forcing his hair back out of his face. He reaches into the waves, blindly grabbing a fistful of fabric, and hauling Izuku above the surface.

Soaked, freezing, and grinning madly, Izuku just waggles his eyebrows at Shinsou, who has been caught off-guard by the fact that Izuku somehow manages to look good even when soaked to the bone with freezing seawater and completely unhinged. This is not helped by the fact that Shinsou is currently holding him up by the front of his shirt, putting them firmly face-to-face.

Izuku says something that Shinsou doesn’t hear, reaching up to take hold of the hand currently balled in his shirt. Shinsou, in all his endless grace, remembers Izuku’s touch telepathy, and in a moment of genius, promptly drops the other boy back into the water with zero warning just as another wave crests.

“Oh, shIT-” It takes a second too long for Izuku to breach the surface again, but when he does, he’s still smiling, letting out a wild whoop at the sky. 

“HOW ARE YOU NOT FREEZING?!” Shinsou screams at him, voice partially lost to the harsh wind whipping around them.

Izuku turns and splashes toward him, catching him firmly by the shoulders, “Hitoshi, today, we WILL become heroes! Together! I can feel it in every part of my being! I can’t even feel the cold!” He lets out another shout at the sky, while Shinsou can only watch on, suddenly very aware that the little crush he had been trying to ignore, had grown quite a bit when he hadn’t been looking.

“Well, shit.” He murmurs before they’re both knocked off their feet by yet another freezing wave. 

---

Two hours later they’ve been picked up by Inko, who had told them off the entire ride back to the Midoriya’s, showered and defrosted, dressed, and now here they are. 

The gates of UA are terrifying. Beautiful? Yes. Huge? Yes. Exciting? Yes. But, mostly terrifying.

“Well,” Izuku, to his merit, looks much more appropriately nervous now that he’s burned off his adrenaline from the beach, “This is it.”

“Yeah.” Shinsou can feel his legs shaking a little, but he forces himself to smile anyway, “Let’s kick some ass.”

Midoriya collapses in snorting laughter, catching the attention of a few disapproving passersbys, but Shinsou just meets their glances with a glare, being careful to make sure Izuku doesn’t catch him doing so. They had to fight tooth and nail to be here, and he’ll be damned if he lets anyone look down on them today. 

“Come on, Hitoshi, let’s do this.” Izuku grabs Shinsou's arm, pulling him over the threshold. 

“Yeah,” Shinsou drops his glare, offering Izuku one of his rare, genuine smiles, no mischief or humor in it, “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

After quite possibly the most embarrassing presentation Izuku had ever attended (both second-hand embarrassment for Present Mic’s failed attempts to pump up the crowd, and embarrassment at being called out for muttering by the karate-chopping kid) Izuku stands at the back of a crowd gathered at the training ground gates.

Nobody is prepared for this year’s exam. It had been changed from it’s original form, and it hadn’t been revealed to the examinees until the presentation. This year, at the principal’s behest, the test had been changed from it’s famous robot battle to something they felt was more fitting. Instead of just robots, the training ground will be crawling with ectoplasm’s clones, each worth two points. There are robots as well, some being one point, and others being three, but it’s not that simple. There’s an additional factor this year that UA has never incorporated. In addition to the combat challenges of the clones and robots, there will be victims (in this case, actors) spread throughout the city, supposedly mid-attack. It will be the examinees’ job to not only fight, but also to protect. However, Izuku isn’t nearly at the disadvantage that most examinees are at having prepared for mechanical foes. In changing the test to better reflect hero work, UA had introduced an entirely new factor that will certainly work in Izuku and Shinsou’s favor. This time, there are humans, meaning there will be opportunities to use psychic and otherwise non-material combat quirks. All this advantage comes with some drawbacks, though, this test will be absolute pandemonium, far more complex than any of it’s previous iterations. Izuku takes a deep breath, he will need to keep his composure if he wants to perform well.

 It’s unsettling to be alone again as he stares down the impossibly large gates, and he can’t help but wish he had been able to go into this exam with Shinsou by his side. Of course, he understands why he can’t, but still, it’s been a long time since he’s had to face this kind of fear without knowing there’s someone to have his back. He’s done this sort of thing before, though. In fact, he’s lived most of his life alone in some sense, so it’s nothing he can’t deal with, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling like someone had rudely ripped off the warm covers he had gotten used to, exposing him to the cold, harsh air.

The other examinees seem nervous, too, though he catches quite a few dismissive glances thrown his way. From just a look he can gather what most of their quirks are, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t already started running through countermeasures against them. Sure, this test is supposed to be them verses the robots, but if Izuku knows anything about hot-blooded determined teens, its that they can and will tear into each other at every opportunity, and if you’re not prepared well… he’s already been there before and he has no interest in returning. 

His muttering is interrupted as a shadow falls over him, and an all-too-familiar voice confronts him once again.

“If you’re not going to take this exam seriously, you should just leave.” The kid fixes his glasses, a sense of self-confident authority surrounding him.

Izuku can’t help but think that this kid kind of embodies what it means to be a square, but he still stops muttering. He doesn’t see that it’s any of this kid’s business how he prepares, but he really doesn’t want to make enemies before being thrown into the fray, so he just stays quiet.

“Only the best will be admitted to UA, the most prestigious educational establishment in the nation, possibly the world. It is an insult not to approach this exam with sobriety and honor.”

What is this guy’s deal? Sure, Izuku can get that his murmuring can be annoying, but it’s not like he’s making fun of the school. Besides, why would it be this guy’s concern anyway, shouldn’t he be focusing?

“I saw your irreverent laughter on your way in today, and your behavior during Present Mic’s presentation only solidified my opinion on your behavior. It’s disrespectful, and just now you were likely trying to irritate the other contestants, so I suggest you cease this behavior at once, or leave the exam so those of us who take it seriously can participate in peace.”

Damn this kid is high-strung. He got all that from the fact that Izuku had laughed and murmured? Now a little pissed, Izuku turns away from him as though he can’t hear him. He needs to focus on the task ahead.

“Excuse me! I am speaking to-” The boy’s offended spluttering is interrupted by Present Mic.

“GO!” All eyes turn to him, confused.

“COME ON, THERE’S NO COUNT-DOWN IN REAL LIFE, GET GOING! YEAH!”

Izuku is only barely able to keep up with the sudden mad dash through the gates. He’s almost immediately left behind by the kid that had been yelling at him earlier, but he just counts it as a blessing that the guy is finally off his back. The rumbling of the many bots shakes the ground as the contestants fan out in every direction, and already Izuku is seeing Ectoplasm’s clones descending on them. 

There’s a scream to his right, a woman trapped under rubble, trying to shrink away from one of the clones. Without pausing to think, Izuku is already charging. Quirk activated to increase his strength and speed, Izuku slams into the clone with a flying kick to the back. The clone goes down easily, and as Izuku gets back up, falling into a defensive stance, he’s already started to expand his calming aura out to the victim, careful to concentrate it to their area.

“Can you move?” He calls to the woman, landing a punch as the clone gets back up, trying to lunge at Izuku.

“Yes, but I’m trapped in here!” The woman calls back, and to her credit, she does a good job of sounding distressed, though her weak shaking of the exposed rebar caging her in is almost comical.

“Got it. I’ll have you out in a second.” Izuku lands another punch, this time reaching out to the clones exposed neck as it falls back, crushing it’s windpipe in his grip and letting it fall, where it promptly dissolves. Izuku shudders at the violent move he had to use, but he doesn’t dwell on it, instead lifting away the rubble so the victim can escape.

“If you can run, head back the direction I came from, it should be largely cleared by now.” Izuku instructs her, already scanning their surroundings for additional threats.

“Thank you, hero!” the woman calls back to him as she does what he suggested, a hint of a laugh in her voice. 

Izuku ignores her, taking off down the alleyway, following the line of ever-increasing destruction. He has to fight off another clone, this one dissolving much easier (presumably because at this point ectoplasm is having to engage almost all of his clones all across the city as well and creating more to make up for those already destroyed, hopefully that means the clones will keep getting easier to take down as the exam goes on) but he’s able to clear most of the path without incident. The alleyway opens up to a much wider street, swarming all over with victims, villains, and examinees alike. The spectacle is almost dizzying, but Izuku doesn’t allow himself to get overwhelmed.

A quick scan of the scene reveals that there seems to be three general groups of examinees. The first are those who are focusing on combat, downing clones left and right, robots going up in explosions and war cries reverberating off the buildings. The second are those who have concentrated more on rescue, dragging victims out of the rubble and guiding them away from the chaos, some even applying first-aid on particularly hurt victims. The third are those examinees that are utterly overwhelmed, some frozen in shock, watching the pandemonium, others running away from the villains themselves. This area is crowded, and it seems well-taken care of as far as rescues and fights are going, so Izuku takes off further into the city, again following the path of destruction.

Before he can register what’s happened he’s been thrown into the side of a building, the ground around him shaking with what sounds like thunder. With a grunt, Izuku drags himself back up, taking note of the fact that his left arm is almost definitely broken from where it had collided with a support beam. Holding the useless arm close to his body, Izuku turns toward the sounds of screams, real screams, now coming from beneath what seems to be a collapsed bank. Whatever had caused the blast hadn’t been part of the test. It was far too careless and destructive to be one of UAs challenges, meaning it had probably been an examinee with an unstable quirk. Unfortunately, this also means that the damage and effects of that quirk were almost definitely not accounted for when designing the testing grounds.

His theory only strengthens as he approaches the rubble pile that used to be a building. Desperate screams echo from inside as the rubble shifts again, falling in toward the victims that had made a quick transition from actor to genuine victim. Adrenaline burning through his veins, Izuku lashes out, letting instinct take over. Bounding across the final few feet, Izuku throws himself into an opening in the rubble, landing in a small crowd of people dressed up in torn up professional clothes, many with fake injuries littering their bodies. There’s a girl with them as well, holding onto one of the younger actors, and Izuku recognizes her from the exam briefing. 

The rubble shifts again, the metal screeching and prompting another set of screams from the group as the ceiling well and truly begins to come down on them.

Izuku throws up his one good hand, summoning as much of his quirk as he can. It feels like a mix between his energy attack and his aura, and he looks up to see a glowing white force field forming above them, catching the weight of the collapsing structure. The pain is immediate and devastating, but Izuku refuses to let up, pushing his quirk further as he begins to release his aura as well, concentrating the sense of calm as best he can to the victims. There’s an opening big enough to crawl through on the other side of the structure, and so long as Izuku can keep his hold on the falling rubble and everyone keeps calm, they’ll be able to use it to get out without everything coming down on them.

His head feels like it’s about to explode, his scars searing across his skin, light pouring out of them. Still, he grits his teeth, strengthening his aura, and holding his force-field steady.

“Okay,” His voice is strained, but they all turn to listen, pupils blown wide from Izuku’s quirk, many smiling contentedly, “Listen up, I need you to take turns climbing out. See the light coming through the far wall? That’s your path, now go!” 

Izuku can feel something warm dripping across his lips, his vision starting to tunnel from the strain. Thankfully, the victims follow his instruction without questions, calmly making their way, one at a time, through the opening.

Another blast rocks the ground outside, the sound of thunder echoing down to them as Izuku tries to keep from crying out, pushing himself harder to keep holding the structure as it collapses even further. His aura projection flickers for a moment, but he’s able to re-establish it quickly enough that most of the victims hardly even have a chance to frown. There’s only two victims left and the examinee girl, whose face twists in confusion as she looks back at Izuku. 

The final two victims make their way out, scrabbling easily past the rubble. Now just the girl examinee remains, still staring at him.

“Go!” He grits out to her, letting his aura projection drop so he can continue to hold up the structure. At this rate he has less than half a minute before he loses consciousness and this whole thing comes down on them.

The girl glances back at the exit, and then at the shifting pile of rubble above them that is now pushing back against Izuku’s energy field. Shaking but determined, the girl turns back to him, hands balled into fists.

“I can’t leave you in here, I can get us both out.”

“There’s no time,” Izuku is practically begging at this point, his whole body shaking as his vision begins to fade, black spots crowding out his view of the girl.

“Float!” The girl yells, but Izuku can no longer see what she’s doing.

“I’m sorry,” He practically whispers as his body gives out and everything goes black.

---

Uraraka has never held this much up with her quirk before. The nausea is almost overwhelming, but she manages to swallow back the bile as she focuses on holding up the rubble pile that the boy had been supporting. He had collapsed just in time for her to float everything, so they were safe for now, but they would have to get out before her quirk failed as well. He hadn’t moved again, so chances are he’s out cold. 

She hooks the boy’s arm around her shoulders, holding him up by the waist as she drags them both toward the exit hole. Scars lining the boy’s body are a raised, angry red, like burns, some of them slowly dripping blood that soaks through the boys’ clothes and into hers. The antlers that had been branched wide and glowing had now shrunken down to be only about six inches long on either side, and they continue to shrink. Uraraka hopes that they’re supposed to do that, because she doesn’t know much about first aid and this guy isn’t looking great. 

A few of the victim actors from earlier reach back through the hole in the rubble, seemingly having broken out of whatever the boy had been doing to keep everyone calm. A few are crying or staring into the middle distance, seemingly coming to terms with the fact that they could have actually died, while the rest crowd around the exit, careful to keep back from the precarious pile that threatens to crush their rescuers.

“Hand him here, love.” One of the women with a fake head wound offers her hand, firmly grasping the boy’s arm that had been across Uraraka’s shoulders. 

Gratefully, Uraraka helps them get a hold of him, taking the hand offered to her by another actor as she and the boy are pulled from the rubble. Once out, she checks to be sure that they’re far enough from the unstable rubble, and promptly releases her quirk.

This time she can’t fight off the nausea and she throws up on the street. She always hates when this happens because it means that her stomach will be cramping painfully for the next few hours, but looking at how the other kid ended up, she can’t really complain. 

She sits down next to the boy as Present Mic announces the end of the exam, almost too tired to be disappointed. Almost. 

The boy stirs a little, turning to look at her, trembling all over.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his eyes promptly rolling back up in his head as his shaking stops altogether. His antlers have shrunken down to stubs now, but the scars all over his body have continued to leak a steady stream of blood, darkening his green tracksuit. In short, he kinda looks like he’s dying, and Uraraka really wishes he wouldn’t do that.

“Hey, come on, stay awake,” She shakes the boy gently, but gets no response. She’s starting to panic a little now, a few of the actors crowding around them to see what’s going on, “Wake up, come on. I don’t know what I’m doing here, so I really need you to show me you’re still alive. Please?” 

Still, there is no response.

“Over here!” Someone calls, the crowd parting to let a figure pass through. As they get closer, Uraraka can see that it's a very small old woman with a cheerful smile. She walks with a cane fashioned to look like a syringe, a white lab coat and visor setting her apart as some kind of medical personnel. 

The woman’s smile fades as she gets closer, pursing her lips with concern. 

“Oh my,” she murmurs, coming closer to look over the boy, “My my my, how did he manage this?”

“I’m not totally sure, ma’am,” Uraraka offers, “I think it has something to do with his quirk.”

“Hmm,” The old woman responds, continuing her evaluation, “He’s done quite the number, and a broken arm, I see.” She points at the boy’s left arm, which, now that it's pointed out to her, Uraraka sees that it’s bent oddly, his forearm far more curved than it ought to be.

The woman leans down, placing a kiss on the boy’s forehead before straightening up, and Uraraka watches as the boy’s arm seems to straighten all on it’s own, his scars closing up, though many stay red. He doesn’t wake up.

“There we are, that should be good enough for us to be able to take him to the infirmary. Now,” She straightens back up, now leveling her gaze on Uraraka, “Quirk overuse as well, I assume?”

Uraraka nods, still not entirely sure what’s happening. The woman holds out a handful of gummies, which Uraraka accepts with much confusion.

“My name is Recovery Girl. My quirk allows me to heal people with a kiss, but that healing relies on the stamina of the patient. In your case, it would be more effective to heal naturally since your injuries are mild and my quirk would only exhaust you more. Those should help you get some of your energy back.”

Uraraka nods, placing one in her mouth and sucking on it, not yet sure if she’ll be able to swallow it and keep it down.

“What about him?” She asks, gesturing to the boy who still lays beside her, unconscious.

“Ah, he’ll be just fine, but he’ll need to come back to the infirmary for a while so we can put him on an IV, then I’ll be able to heal him one more time and he should be good as new, even if he’ll be tired for the next couple of days.”

Uraraka nods, scooting out of the way of two bots that come through with a stretcher, carefully loading up the other boy, and taking him out of sight. Uraraka watches him go, regretting the fact that she might not get to speak with him. She had probably gotten enough points to get in without much issue, but she had noticed that he had been one of the kids bringing up the rear, so there’s a chance that he hadn’t been so lucky.

“Alright everyone, the spectacle is over, go about your days.” Recovery girl announces, the crowd reluctantly following directions, and beginning to disperse back toward the entrance to the training ground. Recovery Girl follows after them, heading in the same direction as the bots had gone, leaving Uraraka behind to try and make sense of everything that just happened. 

Chapter Text

art by me bc somone has to

Chapter Text

When Izuku wakes it’s with a sudden intake of breath as he shoots up in bed. The walls around him are white, curtains blocking his view of most the room. He’s in some kind of hospital bed, which may explain why his head hurts so bad and his scars are all red. 

Wait. The exam. Oh God, oh God, he fucked up. He really fucked up. Shit.

Izuku starts peeling back the blankets, careful not to jostle the IV stuck in the back of his hand, but he’s stopped in his tracks when the smallest old lady he’s ever seen comes into view.

“Oh, no you don’t, mister. You’ll stay right where you are,” She scolds him, waving her syringe-shaped cane in a rather threatening manner, “I won’t have you undoing all my work so quickly!”

“You’re- what?” To her credit, she had certainly stopped him.

“I just got you to stop bleeding all over the place from that quirk of yours.”

“Bleeding-?” Oh, right. The exam. The accident with all those people trapped under the building. Wait-

“Yes, you overused your quirk quite severely-”

“Did everyone get out? I can’t remember- that- that girl! Did she make it out? Is she okay?”

“It is rude to interrupt your elders!” The woman gives him a stern glare, before her features soften and she continues, “But yes, everyone got out alright thanks to you two. She was a little nauseous and tired, but otherwise fine. All the actors were fine as well, at least physically. They were quite shaken up, though they spoke well of you. The person you should be worried about most is yourself.”

Izuku nods, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank God that other girl had been there, that could have ended badly for him. Shinsou would have killed him if he managed to die before he even got through the exam. 

“Now, what kind of quirk do you have, exactly?” The woman checks a screen connected to one of his monitors, squinting a little, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

“Oh, well neither have I-”

“So you didn’t get a parent’s quirk? Interesting, me neither. Do you know the type?”

“We think it’s an emitter, or a psychic, or both, we can’t be certain yet.”

“Yet?” She adjusts something on his IV, “What do you mean ‘yet’? It's been, well, let’s see, nearly a decade since you would have developed. Surely you’ve had it evaluated in all that time. I should think many quirk specialists would love to study a combination quirk like yours.”

“A decade? No, no, I got mine just last May. There was- there was an incident that caused mine to spontaneously develop. We haven’t had much time-”

“You mean to tell me that you have had this quirk for less than a year?” She pauses what she’s doing, eyes going wide behind her visor as she once again stares up at Izuku.

“I- well, yes.”

“And you still managed to handle yourself like that in the exam? How long have you been strength training with your quirk in order to hold up that much debris?”

“Ah, well,” Izuku turns away, realizing just how stupid this is going to sound, “I didn’t actually know that I could do that, per say, I just kind of- did it?”

“You jumped into a collapsing building without knowing whether you would make it out?”

“Technically, I didn’t know if I would make it out after I managed the force field thing, either.”

“You- W- Well then, I suppose it’s good for you that that girl with the gravity quirk was around.” She shakes her head, turning to go back to her desk in the corner.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Well, what you did was very brave, if a bit foolish. You seem to have found the right calling in life, but I must ask that you be careful. Your quirk is new and unstable. It’s lucky you passed out when you did, because if you hadn’t- well- I worry that the damage and fatigue would have been too much for me to handle. Something about your quirk isn’t quite right, it’s as though it was burning through your scar tissue. Do you know what made it activate?”

“A car hit me.” Izuku’s answer is clipped and automatic.

“Trauma induced, then?”

“Yes.”

She sighs, looking at her computer monitor, “Then I implore you to be careful, Midoriya, quirks like yours are powerful, but they can also be dangerous.”

Izuku opens his mouth to assure her that he will, but before he can manage the words, Shinsou is spilling through the door in a panting, disheveled heap.

“I’m sorry to barge in,” Shinsou glances around wildly, eyes locking on recovery girl once he’s assessed that Izuku is sitting up and alive, “I- I couldn’t find the infirmary and this this place is so, so very big and I-” He pauses to catch his breath, sucking in air like he’s just sprinted a mile, “I might have panicked a little when I couldn’t find Izuku, and then Present Mic told me he was taken to the infirmary and he showed me where it was on the directory but I’m just so bad at reading maps. I got so lost, I’m pretty sure I ran into a guy made of pavement, not fun, but he was cool about it, I also might have clipped a door or two, I wasn’t paying attention-”

“Hitoshi!” Izuku interrupts him, much to the relief of Recovery Girl, who had begun to wonder if she might need to sedate the boy, “When did you become a rambler? I thought that was my thing.”

“When did you go jumping under collapsing buildings you asshole?!” Shinsou shoots back, seemingly having forgotten that they were in polite company and charging over to Izuku to shake him by the shoulders, “You could have died! What would I have done then? Huh? Can’t play Uno with one person!”

“Is that all I am to you? Uno?” Izuku pretends to be hurt, pouting and turning away.

“And a pain in the-”

“Eh-hem,” Recovery girl clears her throat, interrupting their little scene, “You say you spoke with Present Mic, did they manage to determine what caused the collapse?”

“Oh,” Shinsou let’s Izuku go, “Yeah, there was apparently an examinee with a thunderclap quirk. They couldn’t really control it all that well, but they didn’t notice how much damage was being caused because they were busy on the offensive. Heard from the other examinees that they probably won’t make it in, but I’m not jumping to conclusions yet. I mean, there was a kid with an explosion quirk in my exam that didn’t seem very heroic at all , but he did pretty well for himself.”

“And how did you do?” Izuku adds, forgetting once again that they’re supposed to be answering Recovery Girl’s questions. Recovery Girl, to her credit, lets it happen. She’s dealt with teenagers before, after all. 

“Focused on rescue for the most part, but I did something to the clones. Turns out that they’re all directly controlled by ectoplasm, like limbs, but I was still able to use my quirk on them, since he can speak through them. The only thing is, it turns out that since they all share the same mind, I was actually controlling ectoplasm directly for a little while there. I got him to dissolve the clones and it took a while for him to put them all back up-”

“It was you ?” Recovery girl interrupts, her face splitting in a grin, “He’s so embarrassed, the other teachers have been making fun of him through the comms.”

Recovery girl laughs, coming over to remove Izuku’s IV, “I can’t believe it, oh my, the two biggest trouble-makers of this year’s exam know each other! Ha! Nedzu is going to have a field day with this!”

“Wait, but doesn’t that mean you managed to destroy thirty-some clones without even using a combat quirk?” Izuku adds, now smiling himself.

“Well, yeah, I guess, but I don’t know if they’ll count it because it sort of goes against the spirit of the challenge. That explosion kid I told you about earlier got really mad when they all suddenly dissolved. For a bit there I thought he was going to lose it, but he just went after the robots instead.”

Now Izuku is practically cackling. He knows exactly who Shinsou is talking about and he knows for a fact that Bakugo must have been pised as hell. Without even meaning to, Shinsou had practically beat the whole exam and made Bakugo lose it in the process. Incredible.

“Alright, alright, calm down you two,” Recovery Girl gives them a long-suffering smile, removing Izuku’s IV in a swift and painless movement, “You’re free to head home, but you’ll be pretty tired for the next few days. Also, go easy on that arm, it will still be a bit tender for a week or so.” She turns to Shinsou, “You’ll keep an eye on him for me, won’t you? Don’t want him collapsing on the way home.”

“Yes ma’am.” Shinsou nods, helping Izuku up, who he now realizes is wearing scrubs, “Wait a second, where are his clothes?”

“Oh yes, in the third locker by the door, his bag will be there, too. We went ahead and washed it, it had been pretty, uh, soiled, what with all the bleeding.”

“Bleeding?!” Shinsou rounds on Izuku, who can only weakly raise his hands in surrender as he tries to keep his vision from blacking out when he stands up.

“Oh, calm down, he’s fine. You can talk about it later, my office has seen quite enough excitement from you two today.” Recovery Girl scolds, though she never drops her smile.

“Right.” Shinsou grits out, taking Izuku’s arm to lead him to the chairs by the door where he deposits him, proceeding to dig Izuku’s things from the locker. 

Izuku’s tracksuit is clean, but the little rips and tears remain, proof of what he had done during the exam. Shinsou sighs, handing Izuku his bag, who takes it silently, looking a little sheepish.

“You’ll want to wear the clothes in your bag, these will need to be repaired.” Shinsou holds up the tracksuit.

“You can use the restroom just outside to change, just leave the scrubs on the counter in there.” Recovery girl offers before going back to whatever she’s doing on her computer, probably an incident report. 

“Right, thanks.” Izuku answers, stiff as a board as he gets up, swaying slightly before sliding past Shinsou and out the door.

“Troublemaker,” Shinsou grumbles, following after him. He swears he hears Recovery Girl laugh as the door swings shut behind them.

Shinsou waits for Izuku outside the bathroom, examining the tracksuit that Izuku had left with him. There were a lot of tears, and even a few light brown stains along the right side, no doubt a result of the bleeding Recovery Girl had mentioned. What on earth had happened to Izuku in that exam? Sure, he had gotten the general idea from the other examinees’ gossip and Present Mic’s explanation, but none of that really told him what had happened to Izuku, specifically. He sighs, he’ll just have to wait for Izuku to tell him himself. But for now…

“Hey,” Izuku offers as he emerges from the bathroom wearing the same clothes he had worn when they arrived this morning. The shadows under his eyes are dark, his scars still a light pink instead of their usual silver. He looks tired.

“Hey,” shinsou offers back, he can wait for Izuku to be ready to explain. Right now? “Let’s get you home, Izuku.”

There are more important things to take care of.

Chapter Text

Izuku is in his room when it happens. He’s scrolling through old hero forums, catching up on underground heroes that he hadn’t brushed up on in a while, carefully avoiding any new news on All Might. He’s not entirely sure why, but his stomach turns a little when he sees the man mentioned. Not dissimilar to the revulsion one feels for a food they ate before getting sick. He’ll need to get past that, but there’s no way he’ll ever be able to revere the man as he had when he was younger. He’ll probably never revere anyone that way again-

“Izuku?!” His mom’s frantic voice filters through the door, and Izuku only has a moment for his heart to jump into his throat before she’s knocking on his door with fervor. Oh God. Oh God no. She found out. How did she find out? This can’t be happening-

“Izuku!” She calls again, knocking louder, “Izuku!” 

Panicked and disheveled, Izuku rips the door open, only to find her… smiling?

“Izuku!” she’s practically vibrating with excitement, a well-stuffed envelope held gingerly in her hands, “It came!”

Oh. 

Oh. Right, he has other things to dread.

“O-oh,” He reaches out a barely-trembling hand to take it, “Wow, thanks. Do you- do you mind if I open it alone?”

His heart wrenches a little at the look of disappointment that quickly flashes over his mom’s features, but she hides it quickly, giving him a smile and a nod. He bows back, shutting the door gently and pretending that he can’t hear her pacing just outside the room.

So, this is it. In a few minutes, he’ll know for sure whether he’ll get to move forward with his dreams, or whether he’ll have to be picking up pieces again. He sighs, gripping the envelope on either side. There’s some kind of heavy metal disk inside, which I strange, but it is UA after all. It’s like ripping off a bandaid, right? Probably?

Fuck it. 

He rips it open, watching as a silver disk plops out, rolling a ways on the floor before coming to a stop and falling flat, a projection flickering out. 

“I AM HERE!” the tinny speakers announce, All Might flickering into view, “AS A PROJECTION!”

Ah, so that’s what he had meant when he said he would see him later. Well then.

“I KNOW IT’S BEEN A WHILE, BUT WITH GREAT POWER COMES A GREAT AMOUNT OF PAPERWORK!” All Might pauses to cough into his hand, “MY APOLOGIES YOUNG MAN, THE TRUTH IS I DIDN’T COME TO THIS CITY JUST TO FIGHT VILLAINS. YOU’RE LOOKING AT THE NEWEST UA FACULTY MEMBER!”

Izuku had already gathered as much, and to say he’s less-than-thrilled about this new information would be an understatement. Still, the man continues, now apparently shouting at someone off-screen. How professional.

“HUH? YES? WHAT’S THE MATTER? WHO’S SHOWBOATING?” A muffled voice answers back, but Izuku can’t tell what they said. They sounded pretty done with whatever All Might has going on, though, so he can respect their efforts, “OH OKAY, I’LL WRAP IT UP, BUT I HAVE TO SHOW HIM SOMETHING FIRST. WAIT- I HAVE TO DO HOW MANY OF THESE THINGS? UGH, RIGHT. MOVING ON, EH-HEM-” Had they really not even had time to edit these? Or was this the only one he had messed up this badly? He honestly hopes it's the second one, “EVEN THOUGH YOU PASSED THE WRITTEN TEST, YOU ONLY GOT EIGHT COMBAT POINTS IN THE PRACTICAL!”

Oh, wow, great. He’s being told he failed by the same guy that crushed his dreams and left him on a building, oh, and harassed him on a beach. Incredible. It’s almost poetic.

“FORTUNATELY, THERE WERE OTHER FACTORS!” All Might continues, and good lord can this guy bury a lead, holy shit, “NOW LOOK AT THIS VIDEO!” All Might turns to a screen with a great flourish of red, white, and blue.

The brown-haired girl from the exam enters the frame, approaching the unmistakable figure of Present Mic. 

“Excuse me, uhm-” the girl hesitates, visibly nervous, “You know that boy with the antlers and the scars? I was wondering if it might be possible for me to give some of my points to him? Another examinee told me that he only got a few clones before he came to rescue me and the others, and after that, well, there was no more time, and-” she takes a deep breath, her hands balling into fists, “He- he saved me!”

All Might steps back into screen, a proud smile now taking over his usual one. Izuku can’t help but feel a pang at that. All Might has no right to take pride in this. He did this. Izuku made himself who he is, and no one can tell him otherwise anymore.

“COMBAT POINTS WERE, OF COURSE, NOT THE ONLY FACTOR COUNTED IN THE PRACTICAL EXAM! THOUGH YOUR SITUATION IN THE EXAM WAS, ADMITTEDLY, EH- UNIQUE! WE DEVISED A WAY TO ASSIGN YOU RESCUE POINTS IN A WAY THAT BETTER REFLECTS THE MAGNITUDE OF YOUR DEED! TECHNICALLY, YOU ONLY GOT ONE TRUE RESCUE POINT WITHIN THE BOUNDS OF THE OFFICIAL EXAM, BUT  HOW COULD A HERO COURSE REJECT SOMEONE WHO DID THE RIGHT THING, EVEN WHEN HE KNEW IT WOULD PUT HIM AND HIS FUTURE AT RISK? A HERO IS SOMEONE THAT EXEMPLIFIES THOSE QUALITIES! SO WE HAVE SPECIALIZED RESCUE POINTS!”

Izuku is pretty certain that someone had made that up just for his case, and as grateful as he is, he’s not sure how comfortable he feels being put in the spotlight so early on.

All Might gestures to the scoreboard behind him, “WITH SIXTY-ONE RESCUE POINTS, AND EIGHT COMBAT POINTS, IZUKU MIDORIYA, YOU PASS THE EXAM! WELCOME TO THE HERO COURSE!”

Izuku’s breath catches in his throat. He had done it. He had actually done it.

“WELCOME, YOUNG MIDORIYA, TO YOUR HERO ACADEMIA!”

The hologram message ends, but Izuku has already thrown the door to his room open, stopping his mother’s pacing by catching her in a hug. 

“I did it! I did it, mom! I’m going to UA! I’m going to be a hero!” He sobs into her shoulder for the first time since the accident, relishing in the sensation of finally letting himself feel something with his whole being. He feels as she releases her own sigh of relief, hugging him back just as fiercely. 

“I knew it! I knew it!” She chants into his shoulder, and he doesn’t need to look at her to know that there are tears in her eyes as well, “My little boy is going to be a hero!”

Izuku hugs her tighter, letting his smile drop for a second. It feels almost surreal. He almost lost this…

“Okay- okay,” She pulls back, Izuku carefully rearranging his expression back into a smile, “I’m going to check and see if we have everything for a celebratory dinner, you should go call Shinsou. Tell him the good news, I’m sure he’ll have some of his own! Tell him we’re having dinner together tonight if he’s free.”

Oh, right. Shinsou should have gotten his results too.

“Yeah, I- I’ll go do that now,” Izuku gives her one more hug, secretly relishing the feeling before he pulls away, closing his bedroom door behind him. 

It takes him a moment, but when he finds his phone he picks it up with shaking hands. For some reason, he’s more nervous to hear whether Shinsou got in than he was for his own results. If he got in and Shinsou didn’t, well, they’d have to start their search over again. Izuku won’t go to UA without him. There are other hero courses if they must go somewhere else, and Izuku has no problem going for something else. If Shinsou knows he made it, though, he won’t let him give up his chance, even if he didn’t make it himself. 

He’ll just have to get Shinsou’s results first. If Shinsou failed, then he won’t tell him that he had passed. If he made it, then they can celebrate together. 

Izuku unlocks his phone with a shaky inhale, only to find that he already has three missed calls from Shinsou. He frowns at that but doesn’t get time to dwell on it, because his phone is already ringing again, Shinsou’s profile picture (a really blurry picture of him falling off a trash pile on the beach) flashing up at him. Izuku steels himself and accepts the call. 

“Hello?” He asks tentatively.

“IZUKU GUESS WHAT!” Shinsou calls through the phone. 

Ah, so had made it. Thank God.

“What’s up?”

“I GOT MY LETTER! I’M GOING TO UA! ALL MIGHT WAS IN IT!”

“I got mine too, just a few minutes ago. It’s why I missed your call.”

“So, you’re in, too, right?” Shinsou sobers quickly, and Izuku has to remember that he’s supposed to be thrilled about his results, not disappointed that All Might delivered the message.

“Oh, yeah. I made it! Yeah, we’re going to UA!”

“FUCK YES!!” Shinsou screams into the phone, “WE’RE GOING TO UA, IZUKU! WE MADE IT! WE’RE THE SHIT! YES!”

Izuku can’t help laughing at that, but apparently, Shinsou isn’t done.

“HOLY SHIT, DUDE! WE ACTUALLY DID IT! I CAN’T- I can’t believe this.” Shinsou’s voice breaks, and though Izuku has heard him cry before, it’s still a little worrying, even if it’s from happiness, “We did it, Izuku, we’re going to be heroes. Oh my God, we actually did it.”

“Yeah, we did. I told you we were going to kick some ass.”

Shinsou laughs at that, huffing into the phone as he pulls himself together. 

“Okay, how did you do, though?” Izuku asks, he’s curious as to whether they counted his little stunt with ectoplasm, “Did they give you the points from the clones you destroyed on accident?”

“Yeah, actually,” Shinsou sounds happily surprised, “I got the top score, somehow. Sixty-two combat points and twenty-two rescue points, eighty-four all together.”

“Holy shit, Hitoshi. That’s incredible.”

“Eh, it was a fluke, what’d you get?”

Izuku wants to argue about that, but he lets it slide for now.

“I got sixty-one rescue and eight combat, so not too shabby.”

“Heh, sixty-nine, nice.”

“Hitoshi I swear to God-”

Shinsou cuts him off with a laugh, far too proud of himself for that joke, “Okay, seriously though, that awesome, man.”

“Thanks,” Izuku grumbles, but he lightens up when he remembers why he called, “Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Yeah, my parents are at an overseas conference until next week. What’s up?”

Izuku can’t help frowning at that. He knows Shinsou’s parents don't mean to neglect him, and they provide for him very well, but he can’t help resenting them a little for leaving their son so alone all the time. 

“Mom demands we have a celebratory dinner, we want you to join if you’re free.”

Shinsou is quiet for a long moment before Izuku hears some shuffling on the other end that sounds suspiciously like someone trying to wrestle their shoes on with one hand. 

“Yeah,” Shinsou finally says, “Be there in ten.”

“O- oh, okay-”

Shinsou hangs up, accidentally cutting him off, but Izuku only smiles, tucking his phone in his pocket and making his way back to the kitchen.

Inko has opened every cabinet and scans them all furiously while she stands in the center of the room. Izuku watches her in confusion for a moment before he decides to step in.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatcha- uh- whatcha doing there?”

“Oh,” She seems to realize how strange the scene must look, and her frown of concentration fades, “I just can’t seem to find the fresh garlic.”

“You mean the garlic on the counter there?” Izuku points at the bulb that sits next to the other vegetables in the basket.

“Oh- well, that would be it. Thank you, Izuku, you’re a dear.”

“Uh- no problem, mom. Also, I talked to Shinsou, he said he’ll be over in ten.” 

“Oh good!” she turns to riffle through a cupboard, “We’ll have a good old-fashioned family dinner.” She offers him a smile before she goes back to digging, as though she hadn’t just said the sweetest possible thing.

Izuku wills himself not to cry about that and turns away. She’ll be tearing the kitchen apart for a bit, so Izuku leaves her to it, knowing she doesn’t like to have people in the kitchen when she’s ingredient hunting. He paces for a bit before finally settling on the couch to wait for Shinsou, leg bouncing furiously. 

The knock at the door comes sooner than expected, but Izuku still jumps to answer it. He opens it to find Shinsou doubled over, out of breath, grinning like a maniac. 

“Hito-” Izuku doesn’t get to finish his question, because Shinsou has already captured him in a hug, nearly bowling him over in his enthusiasm.

“We did it!” Shinsou’s voice is thick with emotion, “We did it, Izuku! I can’t believe this is real.” 

Izuku huffs a little laugh at that, finally getting over his shock enough to hug him back. Shinsou is warm from his run to their house, but it feels nice, so Izuku lets himself just soak it in for a moment.

“Izuku, what’s- oh, Hitoshi!” Inko steps into the living room, Shinsou’s head immediately snapping up in response. 

With one last squeeze, Shinsou detaches from Izuku, promptly catching his mom in a very similar hug, if a bit more gentle this time.

“Oh my-” Inko laughs, patting his back.

“Thank you,” Shinsou is definitely crying now, Inko starting to look a little worried over his shoulder. Izuku only smiles at her and shrugs, not entirely sure what got into Shinsou either, “Thank you, so much,” Shinsou’s voice cracks, his breath hitching a little.

“Hitoshi?” Inko asks, rubbing his back again.

Shinsou pulls back, one arm still wrapped around her as he wipes his tears on his other sleeve. He takes a steadying breath, a smile breaking through his tears.

“Thank you for believing in me. For believing in us,” Shinsou turns back towards Izuku, who is now holding back tears of his own, “It means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“Oh you, come here.” Inko pulls him back into a hug, her own tears now spilling. Izuku had to have gotten it from somewhere, after all, “You too,” She beckons Izuku over, who gladly accepts the invitation.

“Great,” Izuku fake-grumbles as he joins the hug, “Now we’re all one big mess.”

“I blame you.” Shinsou laughs, finally pulling out of the embrace and drying his face on his sleeve again, “You’ve rubbed off on me.”

“No arguing, boys. I’ll ground you both- oh dear,” Inko turns, yelling back to them as she dashes into the kitchen, “I left the water running!”

Izuku watches her go with a laugh, drying his own face as best he can. A sort of comfortable silence falls between him and Shinsou, the sounds of Inko wrestling a rice maker in the next room preventing any tension from settling in the air. Shinsou sits on the edge of the couch, trying to regain his composure, and Izuku watches him with a smile, something warm and full bubbling up in his chest. That had been happening a lot lately around Shinsou, but it’s nice, so Izuku tries to pay it no mind. More than once he’s caught himself staring at the other boy during training or study sessions, but if Shinsou notices, he doesn’t seem to mind. Even now, face red and blotchy from running all the way here and then crying, the sight of Shinsou still makes Izuku’s heart aches a little with what he can only describe as a very strong fondness. 

He shakes himself out of it, settling down next to Shinsou with a little bump to the other’s shoulder.

“Feels kind of surreal, doesn’t it?” Shinsou asks, smiling down at his hands.

“Yeah, I-” Izuku stops himself. He was going to say he never thought he would make it this far, but he doesn’t want to lower the mood any. It’s best to just pretend that never happened at all, “I still can’t believe we’re really going to UA.”

“That delivery was pretty original wasn’t it?” Shinsou snorts, “All Might kept arguing with some production guy during mine and they just sent it out like that. I mean, with anyone else people would probably throw a fit, but with All Might I’m sure people will just think of the bloopers as a fun bonus.”

“Yours, too? He was doing the same in mine. I wonder if they’re all like that. Maybe it was a gimmick?”

“You’d think the top hero school in the country could come up with a better gimmick than ‘we can’t bother to do retakes or rehearsals’ but yeah, you could be right.”

“They were probably just in a rush, then. Besides, it’s not like anyone but the successful examinees will see them anyway, so it’s not like it will ruin their reputation.”

“Something keeps bothering me about the whole thing, though,” Shinsou turns to look at Izuku now, eyes squinting a little in suspicion, “Why did they count our points the way they did? According to what Recovery Girl said, you and I were the only ones that really performed in a way that was anomalous to the exam. You performed a real rescue, so yours kind of makes more sense, but I just happened to mix badly with one of the examiners' quirks. That wasn’t exactly something I planned to do, I just kind of took advantage of the situation once I realized I had accidentally connected to Ectoplasm. I just- I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like it warrants all the points I got.”

“Well,” Izuku chews the problem over in his mind, “Technically, one of the goals of the exercise was to destroy clones. Since they never specified in what manner, your method, even if it was accidental, would be valid under that clause. Therefore, they had no reason not to give you the points. Besides, it wasn’t completely by chance. Just because you didn’t understand the exact nature of Ectoplasm’s quirk initially doesn’t mean you didn’t establish a really effective plan once you understood the situation. You should give yourself more credit.”

“I never thought I would find anything involving the word ‘therefore’ actually reassuring, but you are full of surprises.”

“I’m making the decision to take that as a compliment.”

“Boys?” Inko peeks around the corner, smiling brightly, “I could use a couple of sous chefs if you don’t mind.”

“Let’s do this,” Shinsou grabs Midoriya, pulling him in tow as he follows Inko into the kitchen, “Where  do you need us?”

---

An hour and a half later they're gathered around the table, laughing at Izuku’s expense as Shinsou cuts his rice into cubes. 

“Izuku, you’re my best friend, but how much water did you add to this, man?” He lifts up one of his blocks of rice, eating it anyway.

“Ughhhh,” Izuku buries his head in his hands as Inko laughs, eating her own cubes of rice, “I thought I had poured out the rinsing water and added new water. Turns out I just started rinsing it and never drained it, so I have no idea how much water was in there.”

“Well, at least we know the rice maker isn’t broken. I was wondering why it was taking so long.” Inko offers with a laugh.

“The rice breaker is broken, though,” Shinsou says with a serious facing, making the Midoriya’s pause, “Just not the mechanical one.”

“Hey, come on!” Izuku tries to kick him under the table but comes up short, much to Shinsou’s glee. Inko is practically wheezing into her meal. 

Izuku watches with a smile as Shinsou and his mom chuckle. He knows it’s all in good fun, so he pretends to be offended. Shinsou flashes him one of his more genuine smiles before continuing his story to Inko, no doubt some other misadventure of Izuku’s. He has trouble listening, the incessant thoughts running through the back of his mind distracting him from the present. 

He almost hadn’t made it this far. He could have missed all of this. Even though he does his best to throw them out as soon as they come, Izuku still gets those thoughts. Usually they just start with exhaustion, or melancholy, but before he knows it, he’s lying awake at four in the morning, staring up at the ceiling as his mind asks the same question over and over again. Aren’t you tired? It whispers, slowly growing louder, crowding everything else out. Aren’t you tired? Even on his good days, it seems to wait for him just beyond the noise of the day, lurking until he’s alone and the house is quiet to start whispering again. 

Sometimes he even gets close to answering, because he is tired. He’s so tired of having to hide things from the people he loves, but he also knows that the alternative is to hurt them. He’s tired of having to try and figure everything out alone. He’s tired of the nightmares and memories that still plague his unconscious mind. He’ just… tired. 

He probably needs help. He should probably have at least one person that knows the truth about what he’s carrying, but he doesn’t want to disrupt what he’s built here. If Shinsou knew he would never stop worrying. If his mom knew it would probably tear her apart. If he tries to get confidential help he might be seen as a risk to himself, and they’d be required to tell his mom and send him to inpatient or something. He’s not volatile, though. At least, he doesn’t think so. He has himself under control. Sure, there are bad days, in fact, there are really bad days, but he’s dealing with them. He’s holding it together. 

Shinsou laughs at something Inko said, breaking Izuku out of his thoughts. A concentrated frown had made its way onto his face, and Shinsou offers him a worried glance. Izuku just smiles as brightly as he can to reassure him, trying his best not to think of it as a deception.

He’ll just have to try harder, be stronger. Shinsou and his mom don’t deserve the pain of knowing what they almost lost, and besides, it’s not like they have to find out. Somehow he’s gotten away for 10 months, the boot he kept expecting to fall seems to have forgotten him, and eventually, maybe the fear of them finding out will fade away. Maybe it will just become a distant, fuzzy memory for himself as well. Maybe it will all just keep working out.

---

“Okay, but how many wood jokes do you think Kamui gets?” Shinsou asks with a laugh, looking through Izuku’s most recent notebook (half of the contents of which had to be remade, since the bag he had left on the rooftop with his ruined notebook had been stolen or thrown away by the time he had the guts to go back and look for it). Dinner had ended a while ago, but by unspoken rule, Shinsuo had stayed past dark, so he’s staying the night. 

“You should see his street interviews. The poor guy has to dodge them constantly, but he seems to have a pretty good attitude about the whole thing.” Izuku leans against the wall on the other side of the bed. He’s taking down notes in his personal quirk analysis notebook on his most recent quirk development while Shinsou lays sprawled over the foot of the bed, thumbing through Izuku’s hero notebooks. He claims to think the pictures are funny, especially in the earlier volumes. 

“Well, he did go all through middle and high school. I’m sure there’s nothing he hasn’t heard,” Shinsou shifts, rolling onto Izuku’s legs so that he’s facing up. Izuku can’t help but think he’s like an oversized cat sometimes when he does that sort of thing, “Speaking of which, what do you think UA will be like?”

“Better than middle school, hopefully.”

“Well, yeah,” Shinsou finally just sits up, resting his back against the wall next to Izuku, “But like, what kind of classes will they offer? What will the students be like, or, better yet, what will the teachers be like? Is the food good? Are people elitist? You know? I guess I just wonder what we’re walking into now that we made it.”

“Well, I know they offer combat training to handle situations like the entrance exam, and most of the students are top of their classes, so I’m sure there will be plenty of ego to go around. They’ll be posting this year’s entrance scoreboard tomorrow, so we’ll get a preview of what our classmates will be like. Oh, and Lunch Rush is in charge of the cafeteria there, so it’s a pretty good bet that the food will be fine.”

“Of course you would know that,” Shinsou absentmindedly pats his thigh, leaving his hand there. He yawns lazily, likely tired after their big dinner, “I just hope we don’t have to put up with any bullshit from the others.”

Izuku does his very best to focus on what Shinou is saying and not the warm hand resting on his thigh. The warm feeling bubbles up again in his chest, along with a little fluttering in his stomach. The warmth he’s okay with, but the random nerves? He does not care for that shit at all. 

He fights back the urge to reach out and hold Shinsu’s hand. He’s tired, Shinsou’s tired, and he really doesn’t want to accidentally scare him off. Besides, the quicker he ignores them, the quicker these stupid feelings will go away. Hopefully. 

Izuku sighs, ‘resting’ his head against the wall with a little more force than necessary, gaining him a concerned look from Shinsou that he promptly ignores. Shinsou is the best friend he’s ever had. He really needs to get this whole thing under control for both their sakes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” Izuku pretends he hadn’t heard, trying his best to force his expression back to something pleasantly neutral.

“You seem kind of, I don’t know, frustrated, or upset. Do you want to talk about it?’

Shinsou is too good sometimes. Izuku offers a soft half-smile and shakes his head, ignoring the melancholy that builds up in his throat.

“I’m alright, just tired.”

Shinsou gives him a long look, something unreadable in his gaze. He looks almost frustrated himself, but Izuku pretends he doesn’t see it, and just continues half-smiling at him. Finally, Shinsou sighs, shaking his head and smiling back. 

“Alright. I’m taking the couch tonight because you snore and your couch is criminally comfortable,” Shinsou gets up, and Izuku immediately misses his warmth and presence, but lets him go, “Goodnight Izuku.”

“Goodnight.” Izuku offers back.

“Sweet dreams.” Shinsou almost whispers as he offers one last smile, turning off Izuku’s desk lamp and closing the door behind him. 

The ache that replaces the warmth in Izuku’s chest almost catches him off-guard. He doesn’t know when it got this bad, but being away from Shinsou somehow hurts more than being with him. He sighs, spreading out and staring at the ceiling, not bothering to get under the covers despite the chill that seeps in under the window frame. It had always leaked just the tiniest bit, but Izuku had never managed to find the exact location of the leak, so he had given up.

Maybe one day he’ll tell Shinsou about this, too. Maybe Shinsou won’t even hate him for it, but he’s not going to take that chance tonight. Tonight he’ll just fight back his thoughts and try to remember how to sleep. 

Chapter Text

The gates of UA are no less terrifying than the first time he had passed through them. Izuku has rubbed his thumb raw from dragging it across the corner of his student ID, trying and failing to convince himself that he A) belongs there, and B) hasn’t forgotten anything. 

“Jeez,” Shinsou huffs next to him, seemingly relaxed if one didn’t know to look for the tightness in his shoulders, “This place is teeming isn’t it?”

Izuku nods, watching as their fellow students pass around them, jostling against each other, reuniting with friends from previous years, loudly greeting each other, and (of course) sizing up the competition. The bottleneck only gets noisier and more crowded as they pass through the huge doors of the front entrance, promptly being greeted by the most impressively high ceilings that Izuku has ever come across.

“I have no idea where we’re supposed to go.” Shinsou comments, staring up at everything with a suspicious and slightly irritated frown, “There’s not even a map. Should we just find the youngest and most obnoxious person we can and follow them?”

Izuku snorts at that, finally coming back to the moment, “There are signs above the hallways, see?” He points to the directory board above the nearest corridor, “Looks like we’re on the third floor.”

“Ugh,” Shinsou grabs a hold of the back of Izuku’s backpack, dragging him along as he marches toward their classroom, “I hate stairs.”

Izuku just laughs, taking the lead and letting Shinsou hang on as they cut through the crowds, doing their best not to get separated or go deaf from all the noise. 

Thankfully, they’re early, so their hallway is almost silent. The giant door, just like the rest of the building, lives up to the reputation of UA itself. Great, towering, intimidating, larger than life, and, unfortunately for them, seemingly unmovable.

“Huh,” Shinsou huffs, going to pull the handle with far more force than necessary, causing him to blindside Izuku with it and knock himself off-balance in the process, landing them both in a pile by the door, Shinsou laying over Izuku.

“Oof,” Izuku wheezes as Shinsou knocks the air out of him, “I think the door might be lighter than it looks.”

“No way,” Shinsuo huffs back, laughing, “I totally failed to notice.” He scrambles back up, offering a hand to Izuku.

“Good thing we’re early,” Izuku takes the hand, dragging himself to his feet. He dusts himself off, following Shinsou into the room, “Don’t want to embarrass ourselves on our first da-”

He stops, staring directly at the same boy that had been scolding him at the exam. The bespectacled boy stares back, seemingly just as surprised as Izuku that they’re both here so early. Well, so much for that, then. Welcome to hell.

Shinsou clears his throat, cutting through the stifling silence. Izuku catches the hint, breaking eye contact and following his lead as Shinsou takes a seat by the windows, Izuku settling in behind him.

The clicking of the clock sounds thunderous in the following silence. Only the occasional shift from Shinsou digging through his bag interrupting the tension. Izuku has to fight against the urge to start tapping or bouncing his leg.

Neither Shinsou nor Izuku look up when the other boy approaches them, Izuku too tired to deal with another lecture, and Shinsou having heard from Izuku about how weird this guy is. However, as had been proven before, this kid has no problem being vocal about his opinion, so he approaches anyway.

“Excuse me,” Finally, Izuku turns to him, being suddenly reminded of just how tall he is, “I- I would like to apologize.”

Shinsou turns around at that, Izuku only managing to utter a confused “Huh?”

“I’m sorry about my behavior at the entrance exam, I should have minded myself. I see now that you are the superior student!”

The boy bows at a ninety-degree angle, and now Izuku is only more confused. What the hell is this guy talking about.

“Ah,” Shinsou drawls in the voice that tells Izuku he’s up to something, “So you’re the guy that came after my friend here. He tells me you embarrassed him in the auditorium and then interrupted his preparations for the practical exam. You know you don’t need to announce your annoyance in front of 300 people. For all you know he has echolalia and can’t control the mumbling. And then didn’t you tell him off about interrupting people’s preparations? Didn’t you tell him he wasn’t a serious enough competitor and that he should just go home? Doesn’t sound very heroic to me.”

Izuku and the other boy stare at him with open mouths, Izuku red with embarrassment, and the other boy blanched from mortification. Shinsou only smiles politely, his eyes glaring daggers at the poor guy.

“I- I Uhm. Yes. That was my mistake, I apologize. I tend to get ahead of myself sometimes, but I see now that my behavior was inappropriate!” The boy bows again, though deeper this time, bowing to Shinsou as well. Shinsou only watches on, unamused. 

“Ah, well, that’s okay. Apology accepted,” Izuku resists the urge to just crawl under his desk and die, “What do you say we start over? My name is Midoriya.”

He offers his hand and the other boy stares at it for an excruciating amount of time before taking it, shaking it a bit more enthusiastically than Izuku was expecting. 

“I am Iida Tenya!” The boy, Iida, responds proudly, before releasing Izuku and turning to Shinsou, “And may I ask your name?”

“Guess,” Shinsou smirks, Iida once again looking a little shocked.

“Oh, uh-” He squints at Shinsou, adjusting his glasses, “Right! I recognize you from the score charts! Shinsou Hitoshi! First place in the exam!”

Shinsou laughs, finally dropping some of the prickliness he had been putting off. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” He smiles at Iida, though Izuku can tell it’s mostly fake, “It was kind of a fluke, though, so don’t expect much.”

“I look forward to learning with you both.” ….and the kid is bowing again.

Thankfully, the door opens again, saving them from the horrible awkwardness building between Shinsou and Iida.

“Oh hey!” The brown-haired girl calls across the room, smiling wide, “You’re that kid from the exam! I’m so glad we’re in the same class, I was worried about you.” She bounds over to Izuku, who is still getting over the whiplash from the tone change.

“Oh, right!” Izuku finally answers, the girl taking a seat atop the desk next to him with a giddy bounce in her step, seemingly ignoring Iida, who looks pained at the fact that someone would do anything but use a desk for it’s explicit purpose, “You’re the girl that saved me at the exam. Man, I can’t thank you enough, I definitely would have gotten crushed under there.”

“Yeah, it was pretty scary if I’m honest, especially when you started bleeding like that.”

Izuku sees Shinsou stiffen out of the corner of his eye, and decides that it’s time for a subject change, “So, we never got to officially introduce ourselves, I’m Midoriya, what’s your name?”

“Uraraka Ochako!”Uraraka responds with a smile, taking his hand with a four-fingered grip.

“Shinsou,” Shinsou grumbles, now glaring at Uraraka, who has yet to let go of Izuku’s hand.

“Huh?” She asks, letting go of Izuku, who is now watching Shinsou with concern.

“My name is Shinsou,” he explains, looking grumpy as ever.

“O-oh, well I’m Uraraka, nice to meet you!” She offers Shinsou her hand, and he takes it with some hesitation, shaking it once, curtly, and releasing her. 

---

Shinsou doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Well, that’s not entirely true, he knows exactly what’s wrong with him, he just doesn’t know why. It’s only natural that other people would want to talk to Izuku and be friends with him. Izuku is amazing. But… it still feels a little wrong. It has been just the two of them against the world for so long now that the thought of potentially losing him to other, more interesting or friendly people, makes his stomach knot painfully. 

He should be happy for Izuku, right? He’s had to be alone almost all his life and now he finally gets a chance to start over somewhere new with new people that don’t have any reason to shun him. He finally has a chance to be friends with his classmates, and yet…

Shinsou watches as Izuku laughs again at something Uraraka said, Iida chuckling just a little as well. When was the last time he made Izuku laugh like that? 

Shinsou doesn’t even try to join the conversation, instead focusing on triple-checking his bag for everything he was supposed to bring. He can’t make friends like Izuku can. He’s too suspicious and sarcastic. He doesn’t really know how to connect with people anymore. It’s been too long since he could trust and be trusted. 

His salvation comes in the form of an obnoxious, violent blond. 

The kid from his exam enters the room by kicking the door open, passing a hostile glare over the room, now full of students. A few wilt under his gaze, Midoriya stiffening, but expression remaining the same. Shinsou just sits back and returns a smug smile.

“You!” The blond hisses, stomping over to slam his hands down on Shinsou’s desk, hands sparking, “You’re the asshole that stole first place!”

“Ah, sparky boom man,” Shinsou responds coolly. This is something he understands. This is something he can deal with, “Long time no see, how’s the irrational anger issues?”

“Aargh!” Bakugo yells, letting small explosions slam against Shinsou’s desk. Shinsou doesn’t blink, only watching on calmly, “You son of a bitch!”

“Is that any way to address your superiors, Bakugan, was it?”

“I’LL KILL YOU!” 

Shinsou just smiles, taking hold and freezing Bakugo in place. Oh yeah, he remembers this guy from the exam. He had come in just behind Shinsou on the scoring, Izuku below him by only a couple of points. It’s not like he could forget someone with a personality like that .

“Go sit down and shut up,” Shinsou instructs him, watching as he does so, choosing a seat near the front. Satisfied, Shinsou releases him. 

Immediately, the screaming begins again.

“You BASTARD!” Bakugo screams, his chair toppling over as he scrambles up to charge Shinsou again, palms sparking.

Suddenly, his palms go quiet, his arms being trapped to his sides by strips of white cloth, their owner standing unimpressed in the doorway.

“If you’re here to mess around, you might as well leave now.” The man hisses, his voice low and gruff, “Anyone else care to make a scene?”

Nobody moves, most frozen to their seats. 

---

Izuku thanks whatever deity that may or may not exist above that Eraserhead enters when he does. As surprised as he is that the underground teacher seems to be their instructor, he can’t help but be grateful. 

Sure, the guy is notorious for expelling students on a whim, and he’s far from the nurturing mentor type, but he also knows what he’s doing, and he’s serious about his work. That, and he had been so kind as to stop Bakugo’s rampage, which had been giving Izuku some fun little flashbacks. 

In stark contrast to the other students, Izuku relaxes under Eraserhead’s glare. At least he knew who he was dealing with, and at least partially what to expect.

Eraserhead releases Bakugo with an irritated snap of his capture weapon, sighing again as he sizes up the class, freezing just the smallest amount on Izuku and Shinsou. His look only lasts a fraction of a second, and as much as Izuku would like to pretend he hadn’t seen it, he had. His stomach churns a bit at the thought of already being singled out, but he pushes it down, forcing himself to pay attention to the situation at hand. 

“My name is Aizawa, I will be your instructor this year,” The man tucks the yellow sleeping bag he had been dragging behind him beneath his desk, walking back to lean against the podium as he continues, “This course won’t be easy and I expect your best. Should you fail to live up to those standards you can and will be expelled. Am I understood?”

A series of ‘Yes sir’s echo from the students, sitting attentively under his intense stare. 

“Good. Now, for our first lesson, I need to gather an accurate idea of your skill. You have fifteen minutes to meet me at the training grounds for an initial ability evaluation.”

“But- uhm, but sir, what about the orientation ceremony?” Some poor soul asks.

“What about it?” Aizawa asks, “If you wish to waste your time on silly traditions and celebrations you are more than welcome to do so, just don’t expect to continue attending my class.”

There are no more questions after that, and Aizawa strides out of the room without so much as glancing back.

Chapter Text

Fifteen minutes later, the class stands grouped together in their gym uniforms, milling about anxiously and whispering amongst themselves. Izuku and Shinsou stand silently side-by-side, knowing that Eraserhead probably wouldn’t appreciate them doing anything but preparing for the upcoming tests. Uraraka and Iida stand clumped near Izuku, and Shinsou does his best to ignore that. 

“Alright,” Aizawa strides out onto the field, seeming to have simply stepped out of thin air. Chances were he had been watching them the entire time, good thing Izuku had warned him that he might, “Today we’ll be doing a series of physical tests, much like you would have done in middle school, however, this time there’s a few changes. First, ?I expect you to use your quirk. If your quirk can aid you in any way, within the bounds of the test, then you will be expected to fully utilize it. Second, I recognize that some of you have quirks that will not necessarily aid you in these physical tests, so there will be an additional combat section. In the interests of time, you will be pairing up for this section. I don’t care who you team up with as long as you don’t pair two incompatible quirks together and make a mess. Your opponent, for the sake of simplicity, will be me.”

A few murmurs break out amongst the students, some yellow-haired kid in the front groaning something about ‘not fair.’ Shinsou only smiles. Of course Eras- Aizawa would think of everything. He has a non-physical quirk himself. This will be great.

“I will be applying scores both based on your physical performance, and your tactical performance when you enter the combat section. The lowest score will be expelled, I cannot, in good conscience, allow students with little to no potential to continue in my course. Am I understood?”

Gravely, the class agrees, Shinsou himself starting to feel the cold sweat of nervousness crawl down his spine. Well, maybe it won’t be that great, then, but at least he knows who he’s going to be partners with. He gives Izuku a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, wordlessly asking. Izuku nods back almost imperceptibly, a small smile raising one corner of his mouth. He continues looking forward. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” Aizawa leads the way, already barking orders for the first challenge. Shinsou swallows dryly, praying that all those hours he and Izuku had spent training will finally pay off. 

Izuku nudges his shoulder, giving him a small smile as they walk. Shinsou smiles back. They can do this. Together, they can do anything.  

---

They don’t particularly stand out on the physical tests. Izuku falls somewhere near the middle-front of the pack with his mild enhancement from his quirk, and Shinsou brings up the middle-back. He’s not the worst (that poor invisible girl, how did she even make it past the entrance exam?), but he’s certainly not standing out. Even worse, without any regeneration aspect or boost abilities from his quirk, he’s running himself ragged by the time they get to the grip strength test. 

Surprisingly, he comes up fifth in this category, right behind Izuku. All the climbing he did must have paid off. Izuku keeps catching his eye throughout the tests, glancing nervously at Aizawa. 

It’s obvious that Izuku is both worried about how Shinsou is tiring himself out, and desperately wanting a second to strategize. Unlike the rest of the class, he and Izuku knew about Eraserhead. As far as the others know, he’s just some minor underground hero who happens to also teach. 

They know his quirk, have studied his fighting style (even sloppily incorporating it into their own combat portfolios, Shinsou having a bit more luck than Izuku with most of the climbing and parkour-like bits, though not by much), and they know his priorities in a fight. 

Number one: Eraserhead always maintains a visual advantage over his opponents, whether this be by attacking from above, keeping to the shadows, or moving quickly and staying in blind spots as much as possible. This will give Izuku the advantage, as he’s able to move incredibly fast and produce bright flashes of light. Number two: Eraserhead prioritizes the safety of victims and bystanders over everything else, including his own safety and apprehending the villain. This likely won’t help much with this exercise, but it’s possible Izuku may want to deploy one of the psychological attacks they had practiced (weirdly enough, the acting lessons Izuku insisted they get might actually be useful). Number 3: Eraserhead is a master of rhythm disruption and trickery. This will be the area that Izuku has the hardest time fighting against, but it will work to Shinsou’s advantage as this had been one of his emphases in their combat training. Number four: Eraserhead avoids getting close and staying close. His capture weapon allows him the advantage of long-range attack in addition to his short-range fighting. He hits hard and gets out fast, meaning they’ll have to really throw him off. He’s a man fuelled by logic, so to beat him, they’ll have to think and act illogically. 

Shinsou realizes he’s silently mouthing along to his internal Izuku analysis and suppresses the urge to groan. Maybe they’ve been spending a little too much time together. 

Izuku turns to him as they line up for the next challenge, offering him a supportive smile.

Yeah, screw that, he could never spend too much time with this guy. Grudgingly, Shinsou prepares for the next challenge, running the possibilities through his head all the while as he watches Aizawa observe their class with just the smallest hint of interest. After all, if Aizawa is so bored with them, he might as well liven things up for the guy.

---

“Alright,” Aizawa announces to the class, ignoring their red paces and desperate panting, “We’re going to start our combat portion now. Choose your partner, and have each partner come draw a lot from this bag,” He holds up a well-worn black sack, “The number on your paper indicates what order you will be facing me. However, if you’re thinking you’ll have better luck if you go last because I’ll be tired, you’d be sorely mistaken. I won’t be going easy on any of you.”

The pairs break off, each one sending somebody up to collect their lot. Shinsou looks to Izuku, who nods, and he takes it as an indication to go draw for them. Izuku’s brain is no doubt running a mile a minute, and it won’t matter much which one of them chooses the lot, so Shinsu figures it’s best to leave Izuku be for a few minutes. No doubt they’ll be expected to pay rapt attention to the fights, so chances are they won’t get to talk much. Thankfully, with months of training together, they’ve gotten pretty good at reading each other’s intentions. 

Aizawa gives Shinsou a look he can’t quite decipher as Shinsou draws the lot for Izuku and himself, but Shinsou opts to pretend he didn’t see it. He opens the paper, internally breathing a sigh of relief at the marking. It’s a three. They’ll be going third. Not first, not last, and close enough to the beginning that if they botch it, it will be forgotten by the end of the exercise. It’s perfect. 

He hands the paper to Izuku, who looks it over with much the same thought process, handing it back with a smile. 

“Okay, now that that’s sorted, group one, step forward,” Aizawa commands, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the whole group. 

Bakugo comes charging out of the crowd, dragging a red-haired kid that looks far too cheerful for his situation behind him. 

“Here we are,” Bakugo growls out, “Bakugo and uh- shitty hair.”

“Kirishima,” Shitty-hair patiently corrects.

“Okay, here are the rules, then,” Aizawa begins, looking even more unimpressed than he had a few minutes ago, particularly toward Bakugo, “Your goal is to either knock me out of this circle,” He gestures to the white circle painted in the dirt, “Or immobilize me so that I am unable to attack. My goal will be similar, to either neutralize you, or knock you out of the ring. Understood?”

“Yes sir!” Kirishima responds.

“Got it, old man.” Bakugo sneers. 

Aizawa only raises an eyebrow at that, stepping into the circle, the boys following his lead and entering the other side. 

“And begin,” Aizawa states.

Immediately, Bakugo rockets forward, propelled by his explosions. Kirishima wastes no time either, charging in behind him as his skin takes on an opaque, crystalline structure.

“DIE!” Bakugo screams, pulling back an arm to launch an explosion directly into Aizawa’s face. 

Aizawa, to his credit, doesn’t so much as blink. 

One second Bakugo is flying through the air on a chariot of noise and flame, the next his quirk is suddenly silenced as Aizawa grabs hold of his outstretched arm, and in one smooth motion, throws him out of the ring. 

The class is silent as Bakugo hits the ground with a thud, already screaming in incoherent fury. There’s nothing he can do now without threatening his position in the exams, though, so he sticks to screaming from outside the circle, as a now notably non-crystalline Kirishima dodges and parries against Aizawa. 

Not three seconds later Kirishima has joined Bakugo outside the ring, though he seems to take it far better than his teammate. 

“Wow, he moves fast!” Kirishima laughs, picking himself up off the ground. Beside him, Bakugo is still fuming, glaring daggers at their teacher. 

“Bakugo,” Aizawa starts, not the slightest bit winded, “Your attack was hasty and ill-coordinated. You rely too much on your quirk and you’ve allowed your confidence to become arrogance. Work on strategy, subtlety, situational awareness, and quirkless combat.” 

Shinsou can see Bakugo’s eye twitch from all the way across the field. He notices that Izuku seems to tense up with Bakugo’s outbursts and makes a note to talk to him about it later. 

“Now, Kirishima,” Aizawa continues, tone less harsh but still far from friendly, “You adapted well to the loss of your quirk, but your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You lack speed and agility. I understand that with your quirk your fighting style will largely consist of a ‘stand-your-ground’ method, but you need to be prepared for instances such as these. Additionally, your enemies will likely know your quirk and expect a more stoic fighting style. Learning to subvert those expectations, especially while your quirk is activated, will give you a valuable edge in combat.”

“Understood, sir!” Kirishima practically barks, looking even more pumped than before. 

“As for your scores, I’ll be giving you a point rating from 0-10, 10 meaning you managed to beat me, 9 meaning you got close, and 0 meaning you showed zero potential. Bakugo, your rating is 2. Kirishima, you lasted longer than expected, so I’ll make it a 4.”

Bakugo looks like he’s going to blow a gasket, but follows Kirishima back into the crowd of students, hissing and grumbling all the way. Aizawa sigh as he watches them go, but turns back to the class.

“Alright, second group, step forward.”

The kid with split hair makes his way to the front of the class, expression blank. Shinsou recognizes him as one of the kids that got in on recommendation, so he doesn’t know anything about the guy except his name. It was t-something. Tokidoki? Totoro? Tetsu- no that’s that 1-B kid-

“Todoroki.” The kid, Todoroki, states. 

“And Yaoyorozu.” The girl that had followed him says. She’s tall, with long black hair, but Shinsou can’t remember much about her at all. She must have also gotten in on recommendation. 

“Alright, same scenario as the last group, take your positions.” Aizawa drawls, though he seems a little more interested than he had been the last round. 

The two take their positions, both falling into a fighting stance, though Todoroki’s appears more natural than Yaoyorozu’s. Aizawa signals the start and Todoroki releases a mist of ice, dashing forward while Yaoyorozu stays back, hunching over. She’s largely out of sight due to the mist, but when she stands back up, she’s holding a large metal bo staff.

The mist begins to clear, revealing the scuffle between Aizawa and Todoroki. While he’s certainly better than Bakugo and Kirishima, it’s obvious that Aizawa is toying with him. He could end this at any time, and by the look on Todoroki’s face, Shinsou is willing to bet he knows it, too. 

Suddenly, Todoroki jumps back, Yaoyorozu leaping forward to take his place and bringing her bo staff down hard on Aizawa, or, well, where Aizawa was .

In the time it takes her to realize her mistake Aizawa has already caught her in his capture weapon, depositing her out of bounds. With Aizawa’s back turned, Todoroki tries to rush in and get a hit, but Aizawa only steps to the side, using Todoroki’s own momentum against him to shove him out of bounds. 

Just like that, another group is down. Shinsou can feel his stomach knotting up at the fact that they’re next to face him, but Izuku gives him a little nudge, reminding him to breathe. He returns a smile of thanks, before focusing again on their teacher.

“Todoroki, Yaoyarozu, that was a great display of strategy. I’ll be honest, I’m pleased and impressed, however, it could have been improved. In addition to you both needing some more practice with your hand-to-hand combat, you need to improve your ability to adapt your strategies. Todoroki, that last charge was sloppy and ill-executed. Yaoyorozu, your attack would have been more effective if you had increased it’s range, perhaps striking horizontally instead of vertically.”

“Yes, Sensei.” The two bow in almost-unison, taking their defeat with grace and making their way back to the group.

“Okay,” Aizawa’s eyes find Shinsou, and Shinsou has to remind himself once again that he has trained for this, “Group three, step forward.”

Izuku takes the lead, striding out toward the combat circle with Shinsou in tow.

“Midoriya.” He states simply, voice steady, face unreadable. If Shinsou didn’t know him he might even think he was pissed.

“Shinsou.” Shinsou offers, hoping that his voice sounds as confident. 

“Good, take your places.” Aizawa turns and stalks into the ring. 

“Plan?” Shinsou asks as he and Izuku take their places on the other side.

“Strobe, improv victim and villain, make him sing, hit quick, hit hard,” Izuku responds.

To anyone else, it would sound like a code, and in a way, it is. But Shinsou knows what every word means. Strobe: Izuku is going to be creating bright flashes of light, don’t look directly as him. Improv victim and villain: Behave erratically, switching between unhinged, feral, scheming and critically injured. At least one of these will elicit a response. Make him sing: do whatever it takes to get a verbal response, as that’s their best chance of gaining the upper hand, or even winning. Hit quick, hit hard: exactly what it sounds like, only get close enough to land a hit, never stay close enough to receive one. Don’t rely on your quirk, rely on your training.

Shinsou lets himself smile a little as he gets into a fighting stance, Izuku mirroring him in the corner of his eye. They might just have a chance.

“Begin,” Aizawa announces, and Shinsuo ducks, Izuku jumping out from behind him, antlers already at six points, incredibly bright light and the occasional arc pouring from his antlers and scars in a strobe pattern. 

Shinsou sees Aizawa take a step back, and reminds himself to breathe as Izuku releases the second wave of his attack, a debilitating sense of dread flooding the training grounds. 

--- 

Izuku hasn’t had this much fun in ages. He watches as Aizawa flinches back, surprised before he lets his negative aura, thick and choking, fall over the field. He wonders whether the rest of the class can feel it from where they’re standing, but decides that that’s ultimately of no consequence, as they’ll be perfectly fine. It’s only a matter of time before Aizawa erases his quirk anyway, so he’ll make the best of the time he has. 

Throwing his head back and rushing forward impossibly fast, Izuku releases a blood-curdling scream, his vice once again splitting into many. He follows it up with a manic laugh, high and shrill. 

He swings a leg out, catching Aizawa’s arm with considerable force, jumping back out of range before Aizawa can return a hit. Any second now Aizawa will have gotten over the shock of his strobe effect and he’ll be able to erase Izuku’s quirk, but for now… 

Shinsou emerges behind Aizawa, landing a hit of his own before dive-rolling away, also cackling. 

Izuku increases the local concentration of his Aura, watching as Aizawa begins to shake and takes on a more defensive stance. Good, they’re getting to him.

Shinsou lands another hit, this time dropping like a ragdoll at Aizawa’s feet, clutching his head and screaming as though he is in agony.

Aizawa stares down at him in shock, his instincts as a teacher and guardian taking over his awareness of the exercise. Izuku takes the opportunity to launch a flying kick, knocking Aizawa to the ground.

It only takes a few milliseconds for Aizawa to recover, but Izuku can hear the class loudly commenting on the fight, they’ve landed some real hits and everyone else has noticed, too. Izuku smiles, backing off so Shinsou can launch his next attack.

Next second he’s collapsing onto the ground, a real scream of agony tearing it’s way through his throat as a burning, bone-deep pain tears through him. He can hardly see as the ground approaches, and as he puts out a hand to stop himself he realizes what has happened. 

The scars on his arm are tearing open, blood rushing to the surface and spilling over. He’s watching himself break apart in slow motion. This is what happens when Izuku’s quirk gets erased.

--- 

Shinsou watches Izuku go down out of the corner of his eye, but focuses on keeping Aizawa under control. He ignores Izuku’s scream. He’s heard it before in their acting classes, though never quite this well-delivered. With Shinsou having just pulled the same trick it’s unlikely that it will work again, but as Shinsou searches for another opening, he realizes that Aizawa is still watching Izuku, his face twisting in horror.

Shinsou takes the risk and turns as well, only to find Izuku crouched on all fours, his uniform slowly darkening with the blood that drips from his once-scars. 

Shinsou’s heart jumps into his throat. This is no longer an exercise for him. He needs to get Izuku out. 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?!” Shinsou screams as Aizawa’s hair drops again. Good, his quirk is deactivated, now he just has to-

“I- I don’t-” 

Shinsou takes hold of Aizawa with an iron grip, forcing his control over the other man. 

“Get away from him,” Shinsou growls out, “Walk out of bounds, this battle is over.” 

Aizawa, face blank, follows directions.

Shinsou runs to Izuku’s side, only to find him glowing, already standing up and wiping the blood off of his face with the front of his shirt.

“Damn,” Izuku half-chuckles, “I gotta say, I was not expecting that.”

“What the fuck Izuku?!” Shinsou practically screams at him before becoming painfully aware that they are still being watched by a horrified and confused class.

“I got the answer to my question, Hitoshi. I honestly can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner,” Izuku only smiles at him, still cleaning off the blood, revealing his regular scars underneath, no sign of the gaping wounds that had been there only moments before, “My quirk is what’s holding me together. It’s some form of life energy that activated to keep me from dying of my injuries, so it makes sense that when it’s deactivated, those same injuries will re-emerge.”

“I don’t have the words to tell you how horrifying that is, Izuku.”

“No no, it’s okay. As you can see, when my quirk came back, the damage reversed again. Shame about all the blood though, it never seems to come out all the way.”

“How?” Aizawa croaks behind them, making Shinsou jump. He had forgotten about him and must have dropped the hold.

“How what, sir?” Izuku responds, still cheerfully cleaning the blood from his face. 

“In my many years of teaching this class I have handed out many 8’s, even a few 9’s, but no one has ever gotten a 10, let alone collapsed bleeding to get it.”

“Oh, well that’s just a side effect of my quirk,” Izuku explains, not at all liking the shell-shocked look on Aizawa’s face whenever he glances his way, “I’ll be perfectly fine. As for how we beat you? It’s a mixture of training, research, and luck.”

“Well then,” Aizawa still looks lost, but gathers himself enough to take control of the situation again, also painfully aware of the class of children watching their every move, “A 10 for both of you, I guess. Now, Shinsou, take him to go wash up and get changed, he can’t walk around like that.”

“Sir,” Shinsou responds, taking hold of Izuku’s arm and leading him off as quickly as he can manage. 

---

Aizawa watches them go with something stuck between a smile and a grimace. Never before has he seen first years launch an effective attack like that right out of the gate. It’s impressive, it really is, but… 

The sight of Midoriya, white-haired and bleeding on the ground will haunt him. He had seen that before. 

Oboro… 

Aizawa bites back the urge to hurl and turns back to his class.

“Okay, group four, step forward.”

He’ll have to figure out what’s going on with these kids.

Chapter Text

Aizawa sighs as he flips through his students’ files again. He hadn’t expelled anyone yet, much to his class' relief, but he still wasn’t sure what to think about this class. While they were certainly more competent than his last year had been, there were some glaring issues.

Issue number one was named Bakugo Katsuki, and he was shaping up to be a real pain in the ass. The kid had talent, that much was obvious, but with an attitude like that ? If Aizawa hadn’t seen the power of the kid’s quirk first hand he would wonder how he hadn’t gotten his ass kicked a long time ago. 

He buries his head in his hands with a groan. He can’t expel someone with all that potential, but it’s going to be a lot of work to figure out what’s wrong with the kid and get him whatever help he needs.

Of course, he wasn’t the only issue. Kaminari had managed to take himself out with his quirk before Aizawa could even attack. Hagakure has the loudest footsteps known to man, and she was apparently fighting naked, which was unnerving to say the least. He’ll need to have a talk with her about meeting with the support team to figure something out. Koda had been too nervous to really move, but had managed to send a bird against Aizawa, which only annoyed him. Sato had held back too much and left so many openings that Aizawa had no other choice but to take him out to get the match over with. And finally, Sero had not utilized his tape to its full potential in any respect. 

The rest of the performances had been mediocre at best, all save for those two . Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou Hitoshi, both in the top three for the entrance exam, both having created some sort of upset. He had known they would likely be unusual from the start, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that .

They had hardly even had to use their quirks to gain the upper hand in the fight. They hadn’t just lashed out, their actions were purposeful, calculated. They knew how Aizawa would react to everything they did, they took advantage of his fighting style, his quirk, and even his psyche. They were competent to a frightening degree.

Aizawa finally opens Midoriya’s file again, adding a note:

Erase/disrupt quirk only as a last resort, resulting reaction could prove fatal if allowed to continue for too long.

He shivers again, remembering the way Midoriya had collapsed. He doubts he’ll be able to get that out of his mind’s eye for weeks. God, it had looked so much like-

A knock at the door breaks him out of his thoughts. All Might, in his skeletal form, stands in the open doorway, looking sheepish and bothered. 

Aizawa sighs internally, he really didn’t like this guy.

“Come in,” He huffs, closing Midoriya’s file and setting it aside.

“Sorry to intrude, Aizawa, I had been looking for you.”

“You found me,” Aizawa states, still suspicious of what Toshinori could possibly want.

“Right. Well, I saw the exercise you ran through with your class today. They seem promising.”

“They do.” Aizawa agrees, waiting for the other man to just get to the point .

“Your mock battle with young Midoriya was especially interesting.” Aizawa freezes a little at that. How did Toshinori know the kid’s name? Had he somehow remembered it from the acceptance letter recordings he had done?

“You seem interested in him, any particular reason?”

“Yes, well,” Toshinori looks even more sheepish than before, glancing behind him as though he expected someone to be eavesdropping, “I met him almost a year ago. Of course, he looked a lot different back then-”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Aizawa’s brow scrunches in confusion. What is Toshinori talking about?

“Well, I met him before he got his quirk. Actually, the day he got his quirk.”

Aizawa freezes at that. If Midoriya had gotten his quirk that late in life, then that means-

“He got hit by a car,” Toshinori offers, answering Aizawa’s unspoken question, “Or, at least, that’s what he told me. I didn’t see it happen, but I saw him before and after the fact. I had saved him from a villain earlier that day,” Aizawa gets the feeling that there’s something Toshinori isn’t telling him, but let’s the other man continue, “Next I saw him he had changed appearances completely, and rushed a villain to save another kid right in front of me. He was different, though, and not just because of the physical changes. He behaved differently as well. He was angry, resentful, cold.”

Aizawa only grows more confused, that didn’t sound like the kid he had in his class. Sure, Izuku was a little quiet and sometimes a bit closed off, but he had seen him interacting with his peers without issue. He was especially friendly with Shinsou, the two were practically joined at the hip.

“Why are you telling me this?” Aizawa asks, letting his other questions settle at the back of his mind to wait their turn.

“I didn’t witness how his quirk came about, and I’m worried about whether young Midoriya had told me the truth. I- I hate to admit it, but I’m suspicious about the whole situation.”

“As you should be,” The voice of the principal makes Toshinori jump and turn, only to find Nedzu standing calmly at the entryway. Nedzu seems to not notice his surprise, and continues, “It is my job, as the principal, to look into the background of my students. Izuku Midoriya is an interesting case, especially considering that he had intended to apply before the emergence of his surprise quirk.”

“What are you implying?” Aizawa asks, feeling as though there’s something here he’s not quite grasping.

Nedzu just continues to look at Toshinori with his unblinking gaze, polite smile never wavering, “Strange that someone could gain a powerful quirk like that, isn’t it?” 

Toshinori immediately pales, and Aizawa realizes what’s going on. Why is Nedzu bringing that into this? Why is he pushing Toshinori to that conclusion? Surely he doesn’t believe that this really could be the work of Him .

---

Toshinor feels his breath coming fast. Is it possible that All For One could have gotten to Izuku when he was vulnerable? Had Toshinori let the boy fall into the clutches of that monster? Could it be that Izuku is being groomed, unknowingly, by his greatest enemy? 

He takes a deep breath, he’ll need to be vigilant. If that’s the case, then All For One will stop at nothing to get what he wants from the boy.

---

“I have to go,” Toshinori chokes out, and Aizawa watches him rush out, Nedzu offering a polite wave in parting, even though Toshinori doesn’t turn around to see it. 

The room is eerily quiet once he’s gone, leaving only Aizawa and the principal.

“Aizawa, if you would be so kind as to join me in my office. We have something to discuss.” Nedzu’s voice is as pleasant as ever, but Aizawa can sense the urgency in his gaze. This won’t just be an idle chat over tea.

Aizawa nods, rising to follow him. If nothing else, hopefully this will answer some questions.

---

Aizawa clutches the small cup of tea tightly, unnerved by the principal’s silence. Nedzu was a creature powered by logic, it’s a large part of why they got along so well, so Aizawa knows that there aren’t many subjects that he would be hesitant to discuss. 

“Is there any reason you needed us to be alone?” Aizawa finally asks, wondering why he hadn’t brought Toshinori as well.

“Toshinori- All Might, cannot be allowed to know anything of what I’m going to show you. All Might has already received all the information he needs to be vigilant for protective purposes, but there's something you must be aware of if you’re going to mentor this boy properly.”

“Alright,” Aizwaw swallows down his nervousness. He’s never seen the principal this grave before, “I’m listening.”

“As you know, before any student is admitted to our school, I personally perform an in-depth background check. This is both for the safety of the school, and the safety of the students. Often, things are brought to light that are important, but that should not bar the student from attending. This is the case for Midoriya Izuku. Now,” Nedzu’s trademark smile fades as he fixes his gaze on Aizawa, an unsettling tension thickening the air, “Aizawa, I need you to contain yourself. What you’re about to see is… upsetting, to say the least.” 

“I’m sure whatever it is, I can handle it.” Nedzu just gives him a look, but turns to his computer, quickly pulling up a video file. 

“Please refrain from commenting while the video plays, just watch.” It’s more of a command than a request, and Nedzu doesn’t wait for Aizawa to answer before playing the file.

The picture is a bit grainy, but it’s not difficult to make out the image. A high rooftop, seen through the fisheye lens of a security camera. There’s a green-haired figure taking off their backpack and setting it by the door. They’re short, and it looks to be a boy of maybe fourteen or fifteen. He’s wearing a middle school uniform, so more likely fourteen or thirteen. 

Aizawa wants to ask who it is, but remembers Nedzu’s request and holds his tongue. The figure walks to the railing, checking his pockets. He leans over the railing and Aizawa can feel his stomach drop as he realizes what’s going to happen. The boy pauses for a moment, holding almost impossibly still, before swinging a leg over the railing.

Aizawa’s heart is suddenly in his throat, his whole body tense.

The boy pauses, swaying a little, before swinging his other leg over the railing, now only holding the railing behind him as an anchor to the building. Aizawa can feel his stomach churn with nausea. Why is Nedzu making him watch this? He doesn’t recognize the boy, was he maybe a friend of Midoriya’s?

The boy faces up for a minute, visibly taking a breath, and Aizawa has to fight the instinct to turn away. The boy lets go, his figure disappearing from view. 

The video ends.

“Sir,” Aizawa practically chokes, “Why are-”

“It’s not over yet.” Nedzu interrupts, his voice strained. He gestures for Aizawa to stay silent, playing the next file.

This time it’s shaky cell phone footage of a teen girl walking down the street.

“Ayy,” Another girl, presumably the one filming, says, “Here with my bestie, serving looks! We’re ready for summ-”

“ Oh my God! ” The girl in frame stops posing, staring in horror at something behind the camera. 

The camera turns, catching a black and green blur as it descends devastatingly fast toward the ground. 

The sound of the figure hitting the cement is nearly drowned out by the girls’ screams. 

Nearly. 

The wet crunch of bone shattering against cement still reaches the camera’s microphone. Cars shriek to a halt on either side of the body, people quickly climbing out of their cars to assess the scene. A red-haired figure emerges from a produce truck, swiftly approaching the body, their phone already pressed to their ear. 

A sudden white light explodes on the scene, cloaking the body and the red-haired man from view. 

Slowly, it fades, revealing a figure, laying on the road with white hair, and antlers.

An all-too-familiar figure.

Midoriya gets up, glancing around in confusion at the commotion around him. The red-haired man says something to him, but either Midoriya doesn’t hear him, or ignores him.

With a final glance around, Midoriya starts running, the crowd parting to get out of his way. As quickly as he had entered, Midoriya exits the view of the camera.

“What just happ-” One of the girls’ voices is cut off as the video ends. 

Nedzu turns to look at Aizawa, something unreadable in his expression.

“I-” Aizawa can feel his heart in his throat, “He-”

“I understand that the video is… a lot. If you need a moment, that’s entirely understandable.”

Aizawa just shakes his head. The weight of what he just saw will sink in later, but right now he has questions. God, his head is spinning. He wraps his arm tight against his stomach, willing himself not to be sick in the principal’s office.

“If you knew that he developed his quirk due to… traumatic stress, then why did you let All Might think he might’ve been approached by All For One?”

“I can’t reveal everything right now, but it is incredibly important that All Might does not see this footage. Nothing you saw here can leave this room, is that clear?”

“I- yes, but All Might’s going to think the kid is an enemy or something.”

“No, he’s not that stupid. I’m letting him think that because I need him to be vigilant about any suspicious persons approaching Midoriya.” Nedzu sighs, “This is the only copy of what actually happened in existence. Midoriya has been telling everyone that he had been hit by a car, and right now we need to let him say that.”

“But, why are you keeping it so tightly under wraps?” Aizawa taps his leg with his free hand, forcing himself to come back to the moment to think logically. He needs to behave as though he didn’t just watch one of his students-

“Aizawa, imagine for a moment that you are a villain. Imagine that there is a powerful, deeply hurt boy that has been failed by society. Imagine that he had ties to UA, that he wanted to be a hero. Even worse, imagine if UA had denied him, leaving him with broken dreams and something to prove.”

“But I thought Midoriya did very well on his exams-”

“He did. He did amazingly well. But you can’t tell me that this boy's past doesn’t seem like a villain recruitment ripe for the picking. I shudder to imagine what could have already happened if he hadn’t done so well. I would have never known that I was practically throwing him into the jaws of anyone that wanted him.”

“But he’s not-”

“ I know that he’s a gentle spirit, and you know that, too, but that doesn’t make him any less of a target. For Midoriya’s safety, what you saw in this room needs to stay in this room.”

“Okay,” Aizawa takes a deep breath, “Okay, I understand that- but- then- why did you show me?”

“Because he’s your student, Aizawa, and whether he realizes it yet or not, he will need someone around that understands what he went through, and what he carries with him. He can’t become what he longs to be without the support of someone who knows where he’s been, where he’s coming from.”

“I- I understand, sir,” Aizawa closes his eyes, ignoring the afterimage of Midoriya’s falling body that flashes for a moment in his mind’s eye, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you, Aizawa,” Nedzu gets up, leading him to the door, “I know this isn’t easy to process, and I’m probably not your first go-to for comfort, but if you ever need to come talk about what we discussed, or if there’s anything out of the ordinary, please don’t hesitate to come speak with me.”

“I will.” Aizawa nods, opening the door, and striding out, giving one last respectful bow before he makes a beeline out of the teacher’s lounge, promptly rounding a corner and leaning over a trash can.

He manages to only heave a couple of times, nothing more than bile and saliva coming up. The bloody body on the sidewalk. Oh God, he had been so young. He’s so young. 

The scene is familiar. Far, far too familiar. 

Oboro… 

No. He’s not Oboro. He’s still here. There’s still time. 

This time, Aizawa will be there. He won’t be too late. 

Izuku Midoriya will be a hero.

Aizawa won’t fail again. He can’t.

With a deep, shaking breath, Aizawa straightens up, wiping his mouth. He can do this, he can hold it together. He just needs to go home and rest.

This has been one hell of a first day.

Chapter Text

Shinsou doesn’t talk on their walk to school the next day. Izuku knows that it’s because of what had happened during the class evaluation, and he knows his reaction to his own wounds opening up was, well, not quite what it should have been, but he doesn’t know how to fix it now. Yes, he wants to talk to Shinsou, but he knows if he does then they’ll have to talk about what happened, and Izuku would really rather they didn’t. 

Thankfully, Shinsou’s parents were both in town this week, so he had been spending his evenings there, which means there was no one to relay the incident to Izuku’s mom. The issue is that the longer he takes to mention it, the worse the consequences will be when she does find out. And she will find out. There’s almost no chance that Izuku will be able to convince Shinsou to keep this from her. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, closing his notebook and shoving it back in his bag. He and Shinsou had arrived early, as would likely become their habit, and he’d had time to add his observations of his quirk from the day before. Sure, his quirk being the only thing holding him together is pretty fucking terrifying, but at least he fell apart in slow motion instead of just exploding like he hit the pavement. Yeah, Shinsou definitely wouldn’t have been as chill about that. 

Some part of Izuku knows he shouldn’t be able to swallow that information as calmly as he had, but he kind of had no choice. Even when he had finally broken down at the beach after the ‘incident’ the logical part of his brain had kept him functioning. He could feel the horror and sadness and anger and desolation somewhere deep, deep within himself, but he couldn’t really touch it. In turn, it really couldn’t touch him. It was like his brain had just wrapped it up in a blanket and shoved it in a box so it couldn’t make Izuku go insane. 

Izuku knows he should be worried about this, but really, all he can feel is relief. His brain is right, he really can’t process any of that. Not if he wants to go to UA and have friends and not break down screaming and crying constantly. It’s just more convenient, more logical, to let his brain do what it needs to do to let him keep functioning. Even if it means he feels horribly numb on those nights when he can’t fall asleep, and the thoughts- all the horribly tactical, logical thoughts- of how he could finish the job dance through his mind. 

Izuku doesn’t want to die. Not really. He’s seen what could have happened if he had killed himself and he really didn’t want that to happen. It’s just- he’s tired. If he happened to actually get hit by a car, or attacked by a villain, or whatever, he wouldn’t really care. He would fight to live, sure, for Shinsou and his mom, but if he lost he’s okay with going to sleep and never waking up. There’s no reason for him to feel this way. He knows that. He’s at the school of his dreams with his best friend and he has everything he could ever want, but his mind can’t just change the way it’s worked for so long. He can’t make him matter to himself. 

Since he matters to Shinsou and his mom, and they matter to him, he’ll just have to figure out how to survive until he can remember how to live. He’ll get there eventually.

“Alright, shut up,” Aizawa strides into class, depositing the same yellow sleeping bag he’d had the day before behind his desk. He turned to face the class with his usual scowl, glaring until they’ve fully quieted down. 

Izuku catches his gaze and Aizawa freezes, something unknown crossing his features for just a second, before it’s gone and his usual mask of disapproval is back in place. Izuku can’t be sure, as he’s only seen the man once before up close, but he looks worse than he had the day before. More tired.

Izuku tries to ignore it. Aizawa runs the class as normally as could be expected, save for the occasional glance he sends Izuku’s way. Izuku knows that he shouldn’t notice, that Aizawa doesn’t want him to notice, but he does. He’s not sure what he did to gain Aizawa’s attention (or what looks to be distaste), but he’d really rather not have. 

Call it nerves, call it paranoia, call it whatever. Izuku knew it was never a good sign if someone in authority paid too much attention to him. More than once throughout his time at Aldera the teachers were far too happy to join in with the class in making Izuku’s life hell. The small voice of logic tells him that this isn’t the case with Aizawa, but he can hardly hear it over the warning bells screaming at him that he was being threatened. 

Suffice to say, Izuku was relieved to hear that their hero training that afternoon would not be conducted by Aizawa. That relief was considerably dampened by the news that it would be with All Might instead, but Izuku will take what he can get. 

“Alright, Present Mic will be giving your English lesson now. Behave.” Aizawa stalks out of the room, a very excited Present Mic pushing past him to burst into the room.

“ All Right little listeners! Let's do some grammahhh!!”

---

The day passes in a blur. At some point Shinsou had made a joke at Bakugo’s expense and they were back to talking, both silently agreeing not to bring up the day before (Izuku doesn’t know what he did to deserve this guy). It was easy with Shinsou, and Izuku appreciated that. 

Now here they are, passing each other equally irritated looks as All Might makes his entrance into the classroom with far more noise than was strictly necessary. 

“I AM HERE!” He cheers, then more meekly, “Coming through the door like a normal person!”

The class lets out some excited cheers and Izuku has to remind himself not to roll his eyes, as he would have done the exact same thing a year ago. He’s not sure when it had been established between himself and Shinsou that All Might wasn’t that admirable. He just knows that at some point they both seemed to have similar reactions to him whenever he popped up in the local news. Shinsou, of course, wasn’t nearly as opposed to the man as Izuku was, but he still hated all the performance and showboating that went into everything he did. Shinsou had always had more respect for underground heroes, especially eraserhead when Izuku had introduced him to some of the footage he had dug up of the man. Izuku had joked that Shinsou was just happy to have found his twin, seeing as the two looked so much alike. If Izuku hadn’t met Shinsou’s parents he would have been suspicious. 

All Might nervously gestures for the class to calm down, and after a few moments they seem to do so. 

“Ahem, so, ah-” He glances over the students nervously, his gaze freezing much more obviously on Izuku than Aizawa had, “I uh- right! Today I will be conducting your hero course training. If you will look to your left!”

Shelves emerge from the walls with a mechanical hiss, metal cases displayed on the racks, each numbered one through twenty in bold lettering. 

“These are your hero costumes, designed for you based on the sketches you submitted before school began. Get changed and meet me at training ground Beta!”

Izuku and Shinsou wait for the crowd to disperse a little before they collect their own cases, Shinsou’s proudly displaying a 1 while Izuku’s displays a blocky 3. He knows he should be excited for this, and part of him is, but he already knows exactly what to expect from both his and Shinsou’s costumes. 

They had designed them together in one sitting, and their suits were practically the same, a fact which now makes Izuku blush a little at the thought of them matching in front of the class, but he pushes that back. They had designed their suits for practicality to start with, and as they discovered a theme or additional support gear, their suits would slowly grow to be different. 

As for now, they had both chosen to go with a dark grey tight-fitting jumpsuit with a utility belt, light and flexible armored vests, and visored mouth guards with built in comms systems, emergency alarms, sight augmentation, and megaphone capability, not that Shinsou would be able to use that last one very much outside of  communication in the field during rescue. Izuku had tried to convince Shinsou to go with a full helmet, biker-style for the sake of safety, but Shinsou had insisted they have the same thing to start with. Izuku couldn’t use the helmet design due to his quirks tendency to make him randomly sprout antlers, but he had made an alteration to his jumpsuit to allow him to output light, while not allowing light in. For obvious reasons, he wasn’t keen on showing a ton of skin, but he wanted to be able to use his strobe attack regardless. Thankfully, the support teams had been able to abide with the request. 

Izuku goes into a stall when they reach the locker rooms, and Shinsou pretends not to notice. Izuku hasn’t let Shinsou see the extent of his scars beyond what could be seen when he was in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. He isn’t entirely sure why, but the thought of people seeing his scars makes his face heat with shame. 

---

A few minutes later he and Shinsou make their way toward where their class has begun to gather. Izuku keeps his eyes downcast, because yes, he knew the suits needed to be tight to prevent obstruction, but holy shit . He now understands the phrase ‘nothing left to the imagination’ in a much more applicable sense. 

“What do you think he’s got up his sleeve today?” Shinsou asks, nodding toward the towering form of All Might.

Izuku pretends to fiddle with his utility belt, his face heating up at the thought of looking at Shinsou when he’s dressed like that. 

“Uh- what? He uhm- He probably- uh-” Izuku chokes over his words, trying and failing to get them out in a coherent string.

“Whoah, man,” Shinsou holds him by the shoulders, forcing Izuku to look him in the eye. Izuku swallows dryly, ignoring how strong Shinsou’s arms look in his suit and how he’s holding him rather tightly, “Are you okay? You look like you’re freaking out.”

Oh shit. Shitshitshit. Okay Izuku, calm down, just look him in the eye and tell him that you’re fine.

“I’m-” Shinsou’s face is soft with concern and suddenly Izuku has forgotten how to speak and goddammit , “Uh- yes.”

“Yes, you’re freaking out?”

“Uh, no. No I’m- I’m okay. I’m good.” Izuku assures him, perfectly aware that his voice is at least an octave higher than it should be. Why must the universe punish him so?

“Are you sure?” Shinsou leans closer to get a better look at him. Izuku’s pulse pounds in his ears and he’s suddenly aware of just how much he had let these stupid feelings grow unchecked.

“Positive.” He chokes with a smile.

Shinsou gives him a long look before seeming to realise that he’s been holding Izuku for a while and letting him go. 

Izuku turns and leads the way to their class, releasing a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. He really has to get this under control. Shinsou is his best friend. He shouldn’t have to put up with Izuku seeming distant and weird for no reason. 

“All right!” All might claps his hands together, surveying the gathered class with pride. Again, his gaze freezes on Izuku, but this time Izuku refuses to look back, opting to pretend he doesn’t notice rather than have to try and figure out what he could have done to get All might on his back this time, “Today our exercise will be heroes versus villains! Each of you will come and draw for a letter that will match that of your partner.”

“Excuse me, sir!” Iida exclaims, making Izuku jump as he hadn’t noticed how closely the other boy had been standing, “But would it not be more beneficial to create teams based on quirk and skill rather than chance?”

“Not really,” The words are past Izuku’s lips before he realizes it, the class turning to look at him, “W-well what I mean is that often in the field a hero will have to team up with whoever is available, so it makes sense to practice adapting to the abilities of our allies, right?”

“Precisely, young Midoriya!” All Might practically cheers, though if Izuku is honest, the man looks relieved that someone has answered the question on his behalf, “Now, let us begin!”

--- 

“Oh thank God,” Izuku breathes as Uraraka shows him her slip of paper. At least it’s someone that doesn’t think he’s a total freak. (A small voice in the back of his mind whispers that that’s not entirely fair, as his classmates haven’t exactly had a chance to interact with him, but alas, old habits die hard.)

“Oh we are so going to win this!” Uraraka cheers, flashing him a brilliant smile.

“Each team will be assigned the role of either heroes or villains in this scenario,” All Might explains, leading them toward the observation room beside the building they would be using, “The objective for the heroes is to either capture both villains, or capture their weapon that they will have hidden. The objective for the villains is to either capture the heroes, or maintain control over the weapon. Each team will be allowed five minutes of preparation before the exercise begins, villains inside the building, heroes outside. Should either team achieve any one of these, the match will be complete. Any questions?”

Iida’s hand shoots up, almost colliding with the pissed-off Bakugo that stands (grudgingly) beside him.

“Uh, yes, Iida?” All Might calls on him hesitantly. 

“Sir, this exercise puts the villains at a clear strategic advantage!”

“Well spotted!” All Might gives him a thumbs up, “In the vast majority of villain apprehensions and interactions, the heroes will be at a disadvantage, as they will be in the villains' territory. Naturally, this affords the villains the advantage of choosing, one way or another, where the fight will take place. To put it plainly, they will have home-field advantage.”

“Understood, sir!” Iida calls back, apparently satiated with the answer.

“Good! Now,” All Might turns to the giant screens behind him, turning them on. Various displays of the inside and outside of the training building flash across the screens, “For those of you not participating during a match, you will be able to observe and learn from your classmates' mistakes and victories! I expect you all to pay close attention.”

A series of ‘yes sir’s echo through the room.

“Up first, we have team A: Heroes, and team D: villains!” 

Izuku can feel his stomach turning in knots. God fucking damn it why does it always have to be Bakugo. He spares him a glance, only to find the other boy already staring at him as though he could set him on fire with his glare alone. Great. 

Shinsou offers him an apologetic look from his position by Kirishima, who is more than happy to be teamed up with him. Scowl as Shinsou might, Izuku can tell he’s starting to like the red-haired boy. How could he not? Even Bakugo tolerated him. 

Izuku returns the glance with a smile, sighing as he turns back to look at Uraraka. They’ll have to make do with what they’ve been dealt. 

“Villains!” All Might continues, far too cheery for Izuku’s taste as the impending sense of doom settles over his shoulders, “Take these and go ahead. The heroes will be unleashed in five minutes. Heroes, here are your comms and a map of the building’s layout. Plan carefully.”

All Might hands each team a set of identical earpieces and floorplans. Izuku ignores the way his hands shake as he takes his and Uraraka’s.

“Ah! This is so exciting!” Uraraka all but squeals, already inserting her earpiece and trying to figure out how to orient the map, “Whoah, this place is big. We only have five minutes to plan? How are we supposed to memorize this whole thing?”

“It looks like we don’t have to.” Izuku pores over his own map as they make their way outside, squinting as the afternoon sunlight hits the white paper, “There’s a pattern, see?” He points out the way each floor is actually the same, just rotated, “Besides, the layout isn’t going to be our biggest concern here.”

“What do you mean?” Uraraka’s eyes light up as she notices the same pattern on her map, “Won’t we need to figure out where they’re hiding?”

“ If they’re hiding,” Izuku points out, the dread growing in his stomach as he begins to unravel just how this is going to unfold, “The only floor with a big enough clearing for maneuvering and the storage of the weapon is there at the top, so it’s a pretty safe bet that they’re there. This exercise is designed to put the heroes at a disadvantage, so we’re supposed to have to fight the defending team while making our way up the stairs. However, we won’t have to do that. At least, not both of us.”

“Right, I can float us to the top!” Uraraka flashes him a smile before seeming to realize her mistake, “Well, actually, I don’t think I could float us both in and still have energy to fight, and they would be expecting that, wouldn’t they?”

“Exactly,” Izuku agrees, “It would be better if we entered midway. I’ll take Bakugo there, and you slip past to get to Iida and the weapon.”

“What?” Uraraka stops, confused.

“Oh, right. You all don’t know about that. Well, to make it simple: Bakugo wants to kill me. We can use that to our advantage since he doesn’t want to go after you, and the noise will distract Iida.”

“Wait, why does Bakugo want to kill you?” She’s starting to look a little nervous herself, and Izuku feels a little guilty, but he’s telling the truth. Ever since that day he confronted Bakugo after school the guy has been frothing at the mouth for a chance for Izuku to A) be scared of him again, and B) exact his revenge through a rematch.

“He’s fun like that,” Izuku grumbles before sighing and accepting that he’ll have to explain at least part of this, “We were friends as kids, and then we weren’t. He declared me his enemy and lesser a while back and I haven’t known peace since. Also, I am not kidding when I say he wants to kill me, he won’t bother hiding if he has a chance to go all out against me one-on-one. That will give you a chance to slip past while our fight acts as a distraction.”

“Oh, well, are you sure?” 

Izuku runs through his options in his head one more time, but nothing more effective presents itself, “Yeah. Its like Iida said, we’re working at a disadvantage. Any knowledge we have of our enemy’s motives is a resource we need to exploit. It will be easier for you to infiltrate their ‘lair’ on foot anyway. You can give me a signal when you’ll need a big distraction and I can figure something out. Between Bakugo and I there’s plenty of destructive potential. Besides, I think you’re definitely going to do better against Iida than I would, you’re a perfect opponent for him.”

Uraraka blushes a little at the praise, “Okay, but you’ll let me know if you need backup, right?”

“Absolutely,” Izuku lies through his teeth. No matter what happens, he’s not throwing her between himself and an angry Bakugo. 

“TEAM A! BEGIN YOUR INFILTRATION!” All Might’s voice booms through the speakers, and he and Uraraka leap into action.

Chapter Text

The sound of thundering footsteps headed full tilt in his direction should not have been comforting to Izuku, but it was. Finally, at least he knew where Bakugo was. Uraraka had already started making her way up through the stairways almost silently, and all Izuku had to do was stomp around a little and pretend to be lost until an unstable pyromaniac saw fit to try and kill him. 

And saw fit Bakugo did. By the sounds of it, the other boy had given up on using his legs completely and was now rocketing toward Izuku with his quirk alone. Sure, the sound makes his breath come quicker and his heart pound in his ears, but he’s careful to keep his body completely relaxed. He needs to keep from projecting his movements until the last possible moment. 

...and, NOW!

Izuku sidesteps the right hook, grabbing hold of the obnoxiously large gauntlet, using Bakugo’s own inertia to swing him right into a wall.

“FUCKING DEKU!” Bakugo screams, already charging again.

Again, Izuku focuses on evasion, letting Bakugo fly past him to collide with the pillar behind him. He can’t help but think the rush of the fight is much like the one he had gotten when trying to swat a wasp as a child. 

“I’m outside the room, I can hear Iida inside,” Uraraka’s voice comes in over the comms, low but clear. Izuku smiles in relief, turning again to twist around one of Bakugo’s strikes, this time being blown off balance by a small explosion. 

Of course Bakugo would already be recovering from that ridiculous rocket move he had used earlier. Izuku uses the wall to drag himself back up, breathing through the panic that builds in his chest. It’s fine. He’s fine. Surely Bakugo won’t risk behaving like a psycho right in front of their instructors.

“DIE!” Bakugo screams, unleashing yet another explosion, this one powerful enough to reverberate throughout the floor. Izuku dodges by mere inches, catching his shoulder in the blast. He’ll have to go on the offensive if he wants to keep up, because apparently he had misjudged just how much Bakugo had matured. 

Izuku activates his quirk, jumping off a wall to gain the angle he’ll need, delivering a flying kick to Bakugo’s side. He jumps back as Bakugo goes down, an enraged scream escaping the other boy as he rises back up, already charging again. 

“TAKE THIS YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Bakugo releases another explosion, this one much larger than the last two. Izuku barely manages to stay on his feet, pulling up his visor to keep the shrapnel from getting in his eyes. 

“Midoriya?!” Uraraka’s voice crackles in his comm again, “What was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Izuku mumbles back, not wanting Bakugo to overhear him and go after Uraraka, “All good here. I’m muting my side, I’ll still be able to hear you, but I don’t want you to hear this, okay?”

“No, don’t-” Uraraka’s voice is cut off by another explosion. Izuku raises an arm to keep the tiny chips of loose cement from embedding in his unguarded head and neck. They sting as they dig into his forearm, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. 

“YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE YOU GOT A QUIRK YOU CAN BEAT ME NOW?!” Bakugo stalks out of the smoke, an all-too-familiar rage burning in his eyes, “I WILL MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!”

Izuku braces as he releases another explosion, taking advantage of the smoke to duck low, coming at Bakugo from the floor. A well-placed uppercut to the jaw to distract and daze. A hit to the back of the knee to get him to the ground, a kick to the back to keep him there. Retreat.

“COME OUT AND FIGHT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD!” Bakugo screams as he rises up again, “STOP TOYING WITH ME AND FACE ME !”

“Okay,” Izuku stands behind him, still leaning against the wall, “Here I am, what now?”

Bakugo screams as he charges again, but this time Izuku doesn’t duck. Waiting until the other boy is in close, he delivers a punch to the gut, kneeing him in the face as he bends over. Izuku quickly backs out of range, but Bakugo recovers quicker than he expected, firing an explosion directly into his back. 

Izuku chokes as he hits the wall, the unmistakable snap of his ribs punctuating the impact. He tries to inhale as he sinks to the ground, but his lungs won’t listen, his diaphragm still recovering from the blow. His visor is cracked, the white lines partially obstructing the form of Bakugo as he stalks toward Izuku, a manic smile spreading across his face. 

“HAH!” Bakugo laughs as he gets closer, “YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF TRASH! YOU CAN’T DODGE FOREVER, HUH? STILL THE SAME WEAK MAGGOT YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN!”

Panic grips Izuku’s body so strongly he swears he can taste it burning his tongue. Suddenly he’s back in middle school wondering how many bruises he’ll be able to cover up. Wondering if he’ll live long enough to cover them. 

“GET READY!” Bakugo yells, now far too close for comfort, leveling a gauntlet-clad arm at Izuku. 

The explosion is deafening, shaking the building dangerously, sunlight pouring into the dust-filled hallway as the wall Izuku had been leaning against gets blown outward.

Izuku finally manages to suck in a wheezing breath from where he rolled away. His ears ring painfully, and he’s sure something caught him on the left side of his face, but he made it out. 

“-apprehending the weapon now-” Uraraka’s voice crackles in his right ear, “-down to- -hang on for- -be there-”

“YOU THINK YOU GET TO IGNORE ME FOR MONTHS?!” Bakugo is screaming again, “YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE ME?! YOU THINK YOU’RE SO TOUGH?!”

Another, much smaller explosion is unleashed right by his head and all Izuku can do is scramble away, lashing out blindly. He must catch the side of Bakugo’s head, because the other boy is cradling it and cursing as Izuku makes his retreat. 

“Oh God, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Izuku starts mumbling, his vision growing dark at the edges, his breath coming way too fast, panic devouring his mind and body. 

He doesn’t get far, Bakugo grabs hold of one of his arms, swinging him over his shoulder and slamming him into the floor. Izuku’s vision goes white with pain, a crackling sensation popping through his chest. He sucks in a rattling, bubbling breath, the unmistakable taste of blood flooding his mouth. He scrambles back to his feet, the blurry figure of Bakugo advancing once again.

“Is that all you’ve got, Deku? Huh?” Bakugo stalks closer.

“No- no I” Izuku takes a tentative step back, avoiding the crater that Bakugo had blasted into the floor only seconds ago. He can feel the heat rising from it, slithering along the back of his neck.

He just needs a minute, he just needs some air. He needs to think. Everything is so loud, so loud and painful and bright.

“Come on you coward, FIGHT ME! SHOW ME WHAT YOUR NEW BAMBI HORNS CAN DO, HUH?”

Izuku can feel his limbs start to shake as Bakugo gets closer. He needs to run, why can’t he just run? Blood drips from his lips to the floor, bubbling up with each breath. Bakugo raises his left gauntlet. The one he hadn’t used the whole fight.

“HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR THIS ONE!” Bakugo’s smile is deranged, “THESE GAUNTLETS SURE DO PACK A PUNCH!” 

Izuku can hear All Might’s voice through Bakugo’s earpiece, now laying on the floor beside him. He must have knocked it out when he had gotten away earlier.

“-I repeat, Bakugo, stand down! Stand down!-”

Bakugo points the gauntlet towards him, supporting it with his other arm. Izuku manages to pull himself into a defensive stance, dropping to his knees just as the explosion is released. 

He’s thrown back toward a wall that isn’t there anymore, scraping across the floor, one of his legs falling over the edge, dangling into the nothingness.

It’s s loud. It’s so, so loud . It hurts . It burns.

Izuku screams.

Something in him snaps.

“NO!” He pulls himself up from the ruined floor, ignoring the way his broken ribs grind together with the movement, ignoring the feeling of his orbital bone shifting in a way it shouldn’t be able to do. He can hardly see past the blood and tears and dust. He fills his aching lungs as best he can, they bubble and rasp as he drowns in his own blood. His voice splits, becoming many once more, “YOU DON’T GET TO HURT ME ANYMORE!”

In an instant, he’s directly in front of a wide-eyed Bakugo. His now-glowing hands against Bakugo’s chest, pushing him back as he pulls his ‘worst’ from the dark recesses of his soul, light erupting, blindingly, from his skin. Bakugo falls back and stays down, gripping at his own face like an animal, not clawing, but seemingly trying to hide it from the light, his body shaking uncontrollably

Izuku stares down at his hands,trembling with pain and shock and disgust. He had lost it. He had snapped. He wasn’t supposed to use this power anymore, he said he wouldn’t use this power anymore, oh God, oh God-

“No, no no no no,” Izuku clutches his skull between his hands, squeezing until he can feel a sharp ache in his temples, his quirk continues to pull, “No. NO! NO! ”

He’s screaming now, he can feel the burning rattle, can hear his own shrill voice, but it’s all happening so far away, so, so far away.

The cool metal of the railing leaches the warmth from his shaking hands. He takes a breath, another, the air is sweet. 

“I was doing so well! ” he chokes on a sob, blood and spit dripping from his panting mouth, torn between scrambling away from the edge of the gaping crater behind him, and stepping closer. He’s paralyzed, “I was doing so well and- and I- It didn’t work! It didn’t work! I’m still here, I didn’t-”

Izuku puts a leg over the railing. He’s straddling it now, refusing to look down. The clouds look so soft from here. He could reach out and touch them.

He breaks down, collapsing on his knees, far too close to the edge for comfort, the breeze caressing his aching limbs, pulling him toward the sunlight. He grips his skull even tighter, wordless screams and sobs ripping from his throat. 

He swings his other leg over, now holding to the very edge by his heels and his grip on the railing. 

“I’m sorry!” He chokes on the words, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m SORRY! I- I didn’t mean to- I’m so sorry, please-”

“Deku? What the fuck was that?” Bakugo is finally back up, backing away with tears streaming down his own face, cutting paths in the soot and dust that coats him. His eyes look sunken and horrified as he watches the form in front of him break down.

He’ll be… free. 

“ NO! Stop asking! Stop talking! It’s too loud! IT’S TOO LOUD! ”

There’s running footsteps, getting closer, getting louder.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He knows that voice, he can’t trust that voice, he needs to get away. He needs to get away!

Izuku’s grip grows weaker. He can feel himself swaying in the gentle breeze.

“No, no no no no no , I’m sorry, I’m sorry- ”

 He let’s g-

Suddenly, it’s quiet.

“Midoriya,’ Aizawa’s voice is calm, authoritative, but it doesn’t hide the small undercurrent of terror that runs through it, “I need you to back away from the ledge, kid. Please.”

Izuku looks up through his tears, the sudden cavern of emptiness opening inside of him creates an unnatural stillness, the burning pain lacing his scars forcing him into the present. He does as he’s told, taking small, stumbling steps toward his teacher. Aizawa keeps his gaze locked on him all the while, unblinking, capture weapon at the ready.

Izuku refuses to look away, his steps becoming more erratic, he can feel what’s happening. Every inch of him screams in agony as he shatters in slow motion, his broken bones grinding within him with each movement. Blood dripping into his eyes, unconsciousness swelling up within him like a wave.

“Please-” 

He feels himself hit the ground, his vision gone once he lands, even though he can feel himself blinking. His head buzzes, full of cotton, and his senses slip away into blackness.

Chapter Text

Shinsou knows something has gone wrong when the camera’s trained on Izuku and Bakugo fill with smoke, their sound cutting out. He knows something has gone seriously wrong when the picture cuts out and All Might claims technical difficulty, ducking out into the hall. 

The crowd of students around him cheer as Uraraka begins her fight with Iida. Shinsou can’t cheer alongside them, still torn between staying put and following All Might into the hall. The decision is made for him. Something shakes the cameras trained on Uraraka and Iida, Uraraka yelling something unintelligible into her comms, looking scared.

Shinsou pushes past his classmates, shaking off the concerned hand Kirishima places on his shoulder. The hallway is quiet at first, but as he rounds the corner he hears it.

“I need backup at training ground beta, there has been an incident between students!” All Might's voice is no longer strong and proud, turning to something panicked and meek.

Shinsou feels spikes of fear settling into his limbs as he remembers Izuku’s reaction to Bakugo’s outbursts the day prior. He had meant to ask about that. He remembers the look of hostility that Bakugo had been leveling at Izuku before the match. He remembers something Izuku had told him when they first met. Something about hiding burns from his mom.

Shinsou steps closer, catching sight of the smoke-filled cameras on All Might’s tablet. 

“Stand down immediately, Bakugo! Stand down! I repeat, stand down!”

A thunderous boom emits from All might’s comm, echoed by the speakers behind him in the observation room. A series of gasps reach him in the hallway, 

“What was that?” Someone practically yells.

“It’s still shaking!” Another calls back.

“They need to get out of there!”

“What is going on, All Might?” Shinsou asks, voice far more steady than he feels, “What’s happening with Bakugo and Midoriya?”

All Might turns to him sharply, a look of panic crossing his features before it is swiftly hidden by a too-wide too-bright smile. 

“Ah, everything is under control, my boy, please go back in the room.”

“Wha-” He’s interrupted as the sprinting form of Eraserhead speeds down the hallway toward them. He barely stops in front of All Might, either not noticing Shinsou or not caring that he’s there.

“Updates?” Aizawa asks sharply.

“I’ve lost visual.” All Might responds, glancing nervously to Shinsou. Aizawa rolls his eyes.

“Shinsou, go back to the observation room. Make sure everyone stays there until someone comes back for you, understood?” 

Shinsou nods, but Aizawa is already running again, this time with All Might in tow.

Shinsou enters the room to riotous cheering and applause. On-screen, Uraraka has captured the weapon, Iida still laying on the ground where he had fallen due to a misstep. Uraraka only smiles for a moment before yelling into her comm again, looking even more panicked than she had before. 

The image suddenly goes black, casting the room into pseudo-darkness. The class goes silent and Shinsou watches as they begin to glance around for their instructors, fear building in the air when they realize they’re alone.  Shinsou takes a deep breath, he’ll have to handle this until they get back. 

“Everyone listen!” He calls, making his way to the front of the room, “We’ve been instructed by All Might and Aizawa to stay put until someone has come for us. I do not know the situation beyond what I’ve been told to relay to you. Everyone stay calm and stay within this room.”

Shinsou watches as they blink at him, murmurs breaking out almost immediately. He breathes a sigh of relief when none of them try to leave, a familiar shock of red hair making it’s way toward him.

“Hey man, are you okay?” Kirishima asks, “You’re looking kind of pale.”

“M’ fine.” He chokes out, the murmurs of the class growing louder by the second.

Kirishima gives him a look that tells him that he knows he’s bullshitting him, but thankfully he doesn’t press him, just stands beside him against the wall.

One minute turns to five turns to ten turns to fifteen. Finally, there’s a knock at the door, the knot in Shinsou’s chest releasing just the smallest bit in response.

“Hey, little listeners!” Present Mic enters the room, his usual energy dampened slightly by the concern on his face, “Eraserhead sent me to come get you guys.”

Iida steps out behind him, looking confused, and Uraraka follows, looking shell-shocked. Shinsou holds himself back, but he knows that she knows something. 

“Where are Midoriya and Bakugo?” Shinsou asks, voice still level and calm, though he doesn’t know how much longer that will be the case.

“Ah, don’t worry little listener, All Might and Eraser have everything under control.” Present Mic’s smile shakes just slightly, “There’s been some damage to the surveillance systems, so this exercise will have to be postponed. Let’s go get you guys changed while the other teachers see to it.”

Shinsou doesn’t buy it for a second, and something in Present Mic’s gaze when he looks his way tells him he wasn’t supposed to. 

Present Mic leads the way, a murmuring class in his wake. Shinsou can’t help but notice that he leads them to the only exit that has no view of the building the exercise was in. Something is up and he is going to get answers. He pushes through the crowd until he finds who he’s looking for.

“What happened, Uraraka?” He grabs hold of her shoulder, a twinge of guilt running through him when she startles at the touch and turns, eye still wide, to face him.  

“I- I don’t know,” She almost looks like she’s going to be sick, “We made a plan. He said he would distract Bakugo while I found the weapon. I heard them fighting over the comms, but then there was this big explosion and he-” She takes a deep stuttering breath, “He said he didn’t want me to hear it. He muted his comm, but the shaking kept getting worse. I went ahead with the plan, but it didn’t stop when we won. We had to be evacuated because the building had become unstable. I didn’t see Bakugo or Midoriya on the way down, just the damage.”

“How bad?”

“One of the walls was completely blown out. The hallways were covered in debris. There were craters everywhere.”

Shinsou nods, carefully keeping his composure as he takes in the information. Okay, so there had been a lot of damage. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. After all, Izuku is great at dodging and Bakugo tends to go overboard with his explosions. 

Of course, that doesn’t explain where the two went or why Aizawa was called in, or why they hadn’t seen either boy since the fight, but Shinsou is willing to hold onto hope for sanity’s sake. 

“Okay, thank you, Uraraka.” He pats her on the shoulder, hoping his eyes convey his gratefulness. She nods back.

Shinsou continues to push his way through the group, finally emerging at Present Mic’s side, sending him a wordless message of ‘this isn’t over yet.’ Present Mic returns a look of his own, though his is much softer, almost apologetic. Shinsou doesn’t want to think about what that could mean. 

Shinsou hangs back as the others file into the changing rooms. Most are grumbling about the canceled exercise or celebrating being able to get out early and Shinsou wonders how they haven’t noticed that something is monumentally wrong. Waiting a few seconds after the last student has passed through the doors, he finally rounds on Present Mic. 

“Where is he?” Is the first thing out of his mouth, but he reigns himself in, “Midoriya, sir, is he okay?”

“I didn’t see him for myself, but I’ve spoken with Aizawa. He says they’ve taken him to the infirmary to be seen to by Recovery Girl.”

“Why does he need Recovery Girl?” Shinsou’s voice is small, his stomach turning with dread, “What happened with him and Bakugo?”

“I don’t have any details,” Present Mic looks torn, “I didn’t see him for myself, but judging by Aizawa’s tone it’s bad.”

“I have to go-”

“Wait!” Present Mic catches him by the shoulder before he can run off, letting go when Shinsou practically snarls at him “I’m not going to keep you from him, I promise. I just need you to take a second and prepare yourself for what you might see. Midoriya had been using his quirk through the whole exercise and there’s every chance he was already exhausted by the time he got to Recovery Girl’s office. If that’s the case then he probably won’t look great. Recovery Girl can only heal with as much energy as the patient has to spare.”

Shinsou feels his legs go numb as Present Mic’s words sink in. Izuku would have had to have been treated traditionally. There’s not much Recovery Girl could do. If the damage is as severe as Present Mic is suggesting…

He doesn’t so much as nod as he turns in the direction of the infirmary, taking off with a stiff gait as he tries to force himself back to the present. He hasn’t even seen him, maybe it isn’t that bad. Maybe Recovery Girl had been able to help after all. But…

Maybe it’s as bad as everyone thinks. Maybe it's worse. He nearly comes to a stop. Does he really want to see Izuku like that? Can he even handle it?

He shakes those thoughts away. It doesn’t matter whether he can handle it because his friend needs him and he’s going to be there. He can deal with the consequences later.

The halls of the school are eerily quiet, only the distant sounds of classes reminding him that he’s not totally alone as he makes his way down the familiar corridors. It had only been two days. Hell, It had only been a month since the last time he had found Izuku in the infirmary. Was this what it was going to be like? Him chasing after Izuku and hoping he isn’t dead? How long until he’s the one being carried off on a stretcher? 

He picks up his pace as though he could outrun his own thoughts, but they follow him like a shadow, sticking at his heels. He almost passes by the infirmary door. Almost.

It’s propped open, the voices of Aizawa and Recovery Girl carrying through. Shinsou leans against the wall by the door, not yet ready to go in. 

“You’re sure?” Aizawa asks.

“Yes. Certain,” Recovery Girl answers, “The boy's quirk relies on his life-force energy; he's used too much today for me to do anything else. Our quirks are diametrically opposed. The more his quirk is overused, the more damage he sustains and the less I can do to help him.”

“Is there a chance you’ll be able to use your quirk before the scarring becomes permanent?”

 “It’s slim, but it’s there. He’s on a restorative IV and fluids right now. I’ll just have to keep monitoring him. I get the feeling those gashes aren’t from young Bakugo, though, are they?”

“No,” Aizawa’s voice sounds pained, “I had to erase his quirk, he had accidentally unleashed it on himself. If I hadn’t stopped him, well, I don’t want to think about what could have happened.”

“I understand.” Recovery Girl murmurs.

Shinsou takes a deep, trembling breath. He turns and walks into Recovery Girl’s office, Aizawa looking up at his entrance, sadness, but no surprise crossing his features.

“Shinsou,” He greets, Recovery Girl now turning to look at him, too, “Did Mic send you?”

“Kind of,” The words stick in his throat like they’re made of dust, “I knew something went wrong. I talked with Urarka. She didn’t know, so I asked Present Mic and he- He sent me here.”

“Shinsou-”

“Where is Izuku?” Shinsou accidentally cuts Aizawa off, but the man doesn’t seem bothered.

“He’s over there,” Aizawa points to a curtained-off corner of the infirmary, “He looks bad right now. Really bad. But Recovery Girl is going to do everything she can to get him back in fighting shape, okay? He’ll be alright, kid.”

“Can I see him?” Shinsou asks, ignoring all the other questions that spin dizzyingly through his head.

“Yeah, go ahead-” Aizawa’s phone dings and he immediately pulls it out, frowning at the screen, “I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon. Recovery Girl will be here.”

Shinsou nods, watching as Recovery Girl wordlessly hands him a clipboard and Aizawa takes off, nearly running out of the room again.

Shinsou turns to the curtained area, wishing that Aizawa had left him alone to see Izuku, but also glad that someone else would be there if he couldn’t handle it. 

It’s like pulling off a bandaid, right?

Shinsou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he pulls back the curtain, stepping into Izuku's little corner of the infirmary.

When he opens them he doesn’t understand what it is he’s seeing right away.

Izuku is hooked up to wires and tubes, wrapped almost entirely in bandages. There are IVs going into him and drainage bags coming out of him, watery blood gathered in them, the tubes disappearing directly into his sides.. Shinsou takes a deliberate breath in through his nose, trying to keep the sick feeling in his stomach at bay. It’s hard for him to tell just how bad it is because he can only hardly see the boy. His legs feel weak and he chokes on the bile threatening to rise in his throat. Seeing Izuku like this was wrong. It was so wrong. He’s so impossibly still.

A hand at his elbow brings him back to the present and he realizes he’s hyperventilating. Oh, well that explains the spots now dancing in his vision. Recovery girl guides him to a chair by Izuku’s bed, instructing him to take deep, measured breaths. 

He follows her instructions as best he can, feeling the darkness at the edges of his vision fade until he’s back in the present moment, the scent of antiseptic stinging his nose. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Recovery Girl asks, and Shinsou can’t even begin to try and answer that, so he responds with a question of his own, his voice choked and small.

“What happened to him?”

Chapter Text

Aizawa enters Nedzu’s office in a rush, ignoring the principal’s offer of a seat and placing every once of his attention on Bakugou, who sits slouched in the chairs in front of Nedzu’s desk. 

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t expel you right now.” He growls, Nedzu giving up and just sitting back to let Aizawa say his piece.

Bakugo sits forward at that, staring at Aizawa in surprise for a moment before his familiar look of annoyance settles on his face once more.

“I played my part in the exercise,” He growls back, “I don’t see the issue. Just because the nerd was too weak to handle it isn’t my fault.” Even as he says them, Bakugo feels the words ring hollow, a growing sense of unease flooding his chest. He’s never seen Aizawa well and truly mad before.

“You don’t see the issue?” Aizawa raises the clipboard he had been carrying, a humorless smile barely gracing his lips, otherwise pulled into a grimace, “Let’s see here, hairline fractures to two vertebrae, nine broken ribs, dislocation of the sternum and shoulder, two punctured lungs, one collapsed, fluid buildup in the chest cavity- potential cardiac risk, hairline fractures in the skull, five and counting, severe concussion, suspected hearing damage, fractured left orbital bone, possible damage to left eye, over fifty lacerations across both arms, back, legs, and face. Prognosis: Critical.”

“I- He-” Bakugo’s mind races to catch up with what he’s hearing. Had he really done all that? He feels dizzy. He hadn’t thought it had been that severe. After all, he had still managed to attack him after his big blast. His chest still aches from whatever Deku had done to him, his emotions felt fragile and unsteady.

“You will let me speak and you will keep your mouth shut until I say otherwise.” Aizawa cuts him off, his entire being practically vibrating with barely-controlled fury.

Bakugo does as he’s instructed. He’s not one to be intimidated, least of all by his teachers, but something tells him that Nedzu is watching so closely for his protection. 

“I don’t know what happened to you,” Aizawa starts, “I don’t know your parents and I don’t know your upbringing, but I can tell you right now that something is seriously wrong with you.”

Bakugo looks up sharply at that. What the hell is this guy talking about? There’s nothing wrong with him. What the hell is going on? What do his parents have to do with this? His head hurts.

 “I just got back from speaking with Recovery Girl. Midoriya is so torn up that she can’t utilize her quirk without risking his life. The-” Aizawa’s voice cracks and he slides his free hand down his face, taking a shaking breath. He clears his throat and continues, “The ferocity with which you attacked my student denotes a complete and total lack of interpersonal empathy. Do you know how we classify those who lack interpersonal empathy? Especially those prone to highly violent tendencies? Sociopaths, Bakugo. Are you a sociopath?”

“I- I don’t-” His mind feels fuzzy, flashes of memory still reeling through his mind from Deku’s psychic attack. What the fuck had that nerd done to him?

“Because I think I can tell you what you are,” Aizawa continues, capturing Bakugo’s attention, “Correct me if I’m wrong. You developed a powerful emitter quirk at a young age. Your peers all looked up to you. Adults in your life praised you. You were never subject to the normal emotional trials of childhood, and you’re so emotionally and developmentally stunted that you failed to develop empathy and healthy emotional regulation. You never viewed the rest of your peers as equally human, least of all those that would be quirkless. Because that is the only way, in my mind, that the way you attacked Midoriya could possibly make sense. You wouldn’t respectfully spar with an animal, would you? No, you would slaughter it. Tell me, yes or no, does that sound familiar, Bakugo?” Aizawa’s tone is clinical, cold.

Bakugo swallows dryly, his throat still burning from all the creaming he had done. He searches for the fault in Aizawa’s words but can find none. The memories Deku had ripped to the surface flit through his mind.

---

“I’m better than the rest of them. I’m just great, and everyone else just isn’t. I don’t need them. I don’t need anyone! I can do it all on my own.”

---

“Katsuki, where is little Izuku?”  “Why should I care?”  “Katsuki?”

---

“Kacchan, I was worried you had gotten hurt, here,” Izuku offers his hand but Katsuki can only stare, resisting the urge to take it. Why is it only Deku that offers him help? Deku, the weakest of them all. It’s fine, he doesn’t need help. He doesn’t need help from anyone.

He slaps the hand away.

---

“I don’t need them,” He whispers to his dark room, furiously wiping the tears from his face. God, he’s so alone, “I’m STRONG. I don’t NEED them!”

---

“Kacchan, are you alright?” Katsuki grits his teeth in anger, how dare Deku look down on him. As though he would need help from HIM?! 

Why is it that the only time someone offers him help, it’s Izuku mocking him? Why can’t anyone see that he’s still just a human, even if he’s stronger than others? Why can’t his parents see he’s still just a kid?

He shoves Deku away, ignoring the way the other boy stares at him, pity lacing his features. He can’t stand Deku’s pity. He’s the weak one, not Katsuki.

Everyone tells him he’s so strong, so he must be.

Right?

---

“You’re lucky Izuku stepped in, you weren’t strong enough to fight that thing off alone.”

“I didn’t need him!”

“You let everything get to your head, brat, you’re not all that great, you know? Especially with that attitude. God, where did I go wrong?” 

All he could ever be praised for was his greatness, his strength. That’s all anyone cared about. That’s everything he is. If she’s right, then what does he have? What is he if he isn’t the best?

Nothing.

---

“Why don’t you take a swan dive off a roof and hope you’re born with a quirk in your next life?” 

The words drip from his lips like poison, darkness crawling out of him like maggots from a corpse. When had he sunk so low? When had he become so cruel?

---

“I asked you a question.” Aizawa snaps, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Yes,” He whispers, his voice barely catching on his breath. Aizawa is right. How was Aizawa right?

Aizawa seems a bit surprised at his reply but continues nonetheless.

“Do I need to read this again, Bakugo?” He holds the clipboard up with a shaking, white-knuckled grip, “Or do you now see the issue?”

“I- I see the issue.” 

“Good. Then we can now begin the discussion of what will happen to you,” Nedzu interjects, Aizawa finally sitting back in his chair and taking deliberate breaths through his nose.

“Due to the legal complexities of this establishment, no charges can be pressed for any casualty resulting from a course activity. I’m sure you can understand the reasoning for such an exemption. Legally, this is a no-fault situation. That being said, having personally reviewed the surviving footage and recordings of your fight with young Midoriya I have witnessed what would have been otherwise legally classified as attempted murder.”

Bakugo can feel his face go numb. That wasn’t- He wasn’t-

“Whether your intention at any point was to inflict the deadly force you utilized is null. You verbally expressed a desire, however facetious, to end another student’s life, and proceeded with a series of actions toward the accomplishment of that goal. Under regular circumstances, this would be an immediate expulsion and open police investigation. However, I believe Aizawa’s analysis to be correct.”

Bakugo stares at him in shock, not sure whether he’s being expelled, arrested, or let off scot-free.

“In my line of work, it is easy to forget that the incredibly intelligent and powerful individuals I manage are, in fact, children. As I see it now, you are a volatile threat to yourself and those around you, but you are also a very troubled child that has otherwise completed all other requirements to attend this institution. So, I am now put in a precarious position. It is up to me how and if you continue at UA. No matter what option I choose, there is an associated risk. Including and especially, the choice of expulsion,” The risk of releasing him back into the public, full of rage and unsupervised, goes unspoken. However, Bakugo’s stomach still drops like a stone as he realizes what risk, exactly, the principal sees in that option, “My only option, going forward, is to mitigate that risk as best I can. With that in mind, here is my proposal:”

Nedzu takes a breath, organizing the notes in front of him before he begins to read from one.

“The conditions under which Bakugo Katsuki may maintain his attendance at UA are as follows: First, Bakugo must demonstrate acceptable class performance in both grades and behavior, as will be monitored by Aizawa. Second, Bakugo’s ranking in class 1-A, for official purposes, will be reduced to 20th, which may change depending entirely on his continuing performance. Third, Bakugo will be required to attend daily therapy sessions in addition to his classes. Fourth, Bakugo is banned from all practical trainings until Aizawa or myself have received a letter of clearance from his therapist. Fifth, Bakugo Katsuki is not to interact with Midoriya Izuku in any capacity unless absolutely necessary.” Nedzu looks up, studying Bakugo with his beady gaze, “Do you agree to these conditions?”

“Yes.” Bakugo nods, letting it all sink in. He’s not expelled, which is good, but… part of him thinks it might have been easier if he had been.

“Wonderful,” Nedzu claps his paws together, “Now, shall we discuss specifics going forwards?”

Bakugo only nods.

---

When Izuku wakes up, his world is made of pain and bright lights. Only one of his eyes manages to crack open, every inch of him feeling as though he had gotten hit by a truck. Go figure.

“Izuku?” Shinsou’s voice comes from his left side, but he can’t see him, and he can’t turn his head. 

Izuku settles for groaning in response.

“Recovery Girl, he’s awake.” There’s a shuffling noise in answer. Well, Izuku figures that answers the question of where he is. 

“Is he now,” Comes the voice of Recovery Girl, “Well it’s about time, I was starting to worry I went too far with his last round of healing. How are you feeling, my boy?”

Izuku opens his mouth to answer, but even the smallest movement sends spikes of pain through his head. 

“S’ bright.” He manages to croak, someone clicking a light off in response. Izuku blinks in relief, some of the pressure behind his eyes dissipating. 

“I suppose that means the concussion hasn’t faded as much as I had hoped,” Recovery girl comments, the sounds of a pen scratching paper following the comment, “Can you tell us what you remember?”

Izuku pauses, trying to puzzle out the answer to that question. What did he remember about what? His aching body answers. Ah, right, how did he get here? He remembers noise. Lots and lots of noise. Pain too, burning pain. But there’s nothing substantial. Everything is cloudy. In fact, he can’t even remember having walked to school that day. He must have. How had this happened? He tries to keep his breathing even as he realizes he’s missing pieces of his memory. Oh no. Oh fuck. What had happened to him?

“Midoriya?” Recovery Girl asks, watching Izuku’s heart monitor warily as it spikes.

“Izuku, are you okay?” Shinsou’s hand is on his, the slight pressure and warmth bleeding through his bandages. Izuku focuses on that, forcing his breathing back to normal. 

“I- I don’t know what happened. I can’t remember much of anything. What day is it?”

Shinsou’s eyes go wide, but he answers calmly.

“It’s Tuesday. We had practical training and there was an incident. You got injured pretty badly.”

“What happened?” Izuku turns to look at him with his one good eye, the other still bandaged.

“Well, we were sort of hoping you would be able to tell us, but you had a concussion when they brought you in, so we figured this would be a possibility. The security cameras were destroyed in the blasts at some point, so we only have part of the fight.”

“Fight?” Izuku's throat feels tight, he’s not sure why.

“Yeah, you were pitted against Bakugo for the exercise. He went all out against you in an enclosed space with his explosions, so you sustained a lot of damage.”

Izuku can’t help it, he huffs a humorless laugh at that. Of course. Of fucking course it was Bakugo. What a dumbass.

Shinsou gives him a concerned frown in response, checking his vitals on the monitor again. Izuku remembers him mentioning having learned to read the charts from his dad. 

“So how much longer am I in here?”

“Really?” Shinsou asks. It doesn’t sound angry, just confused. 

“What?”

“I don’t know, I figured you would want to know more about what happened. Aren’t you at least curious?”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t need to know.” Izuku swallows. The truth is that he’s grateful for the amnesia. If he came out of it this badly then it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t remember. He already managed to repress the memory of most other things Bakugo did to him, it's nice that this one is taken care of for him, “How much longer?” He repeats.

“Only a few more hours. Your ribs have been set and started to heal, your hairline fractures are almost gone, and your wounds have started to close up. Recovery Girl says she’ll only need to do one or two more rounds until she can release you, but you’ll have to be tested for hearing and sight damage before you can be discharged. After that you’ll be okay, but you’ll need to take it easy for a week or so.”

“Where’s Bakugo in all of this?” Izuku finally asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“I don’t know,” Shinsou admits, “Apparently something happened with your quirk and they dragged him off. I don’t know what’s going to happen to him.”

“Hmm,” Izuku hums, trying to puzzle out what his quirk had done. Only one option really presents itself, but he really hopes it isn’t that.

“Are you feeling okay?” Shinsou’s face twists with concern and Izuku’s heart aches at the sight. He’ll figure this out. Sure, It’s a little messy, but he’ll get it together. This is just a bump in the road. He takes a steadying breath, careful not to breathe too deep so as not to disturb his ribs. Yeah, he’ll be okay, for Shinsou.

“I’m alright,” He assures him, “Sorry to keep you, though, I bet it’s getting late. My mom is going to kill me.”

“The school already called her and let her know there was a mishap in training and that you’re okay, but they didn’t go into details. She knows we’ll be back late.”

Izuku suppresses the smile that comes to his lips when Shinsou says ‘we,’ relaxing a little at the fact that he doesn’t have to be the one to tell her what happened. 

“Alright, I’m going to sleep a little more if that’s okay.”

“It’s okay.”

“Sorry to bore you,” Izuku offers him an apologetic smile, fighting off a groggy yawn, “Recovery Girl’s quirk does a real number on you.”

“You haven’t bored me, Izuku,” Shinsou laughs, “In fact, I wish you would bore me more often.”

“I’ll try harder next time.” Izuku mumbles back, his eyelids growing heavy.

“See that you do.” Shinsou gives him one last sad smile before Izuku drops off into darkness.

---

The train is nearly empty by the time they board, the commuting crowd having long since cleared out. In a way, it’s much more peaceful, and probably better for Izuku’s headache, though Shinsou finds it a bit eerie at the same time. 

Shinsou fights off a blush as Izuku leans into him, exhausted from their trek to the station. He looked better. He was still pale and his scars were red and irritated like they often were after quirk training, but he looked like Izuku again. Even if there were a few more scars than there had been before.

Thankfully, he hadn’t sustained any permanent damage to his hearing or sight, though Recovery Girl said he would have some issues with ringing in his ears for the next few days. His ribs were mostly healed, but he would still have some soreness and had been instructed to take it easy for the next week. A direction that Shinsou is sure he’s going to have to enforce. 

Izuku groans lightly as he shifts against Shinsou and Shinsou gives him a concerned look. The sun is setting through the train windows, glinting golden off the sides of the buildings and reflecting into their car to cast Izuku in a warm glow. Even though he looks tired and scruffy and had been hooked up to life-saving machinery a few hours ago, Shinsou can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks in this light. 

Shinsou sighs. He wants to keep Izuku safe, but it seems no matter what he does, the other boy manages to seek out trouble. He’s not sure how much his heart can take, but oh what a bittersweet pain it is to have someone to worry so strongly for. 

It’s not easy, and it’s not glamorous, but Shinsou thinks he could take care of Izuku for the rest of his life.

Whoah there , the reasonable corner of his brain interrupts, it’s just a crush man, cool the jets.

Shinsou ignores it, relishing in the feeling of Izuku leaning into his shoulder. Even if he never had anything else with Izuku, this was beautiful, and for now, this was enough.

---

“Recovery Girl says he has no memory of the incident. He’s been discharged, nearly fully healed. He’ll need to take it easy this week, but otherwise, he’s okay.” Nedzu says from his position by the window. Aizawa nods, taking in the information with everything else that had happened that day.

“So only you, I, All Might, Recovery Girl, and Bakugo will know the fullness of what happened today?”

“And Yamada,” Nedzu corrects, ignoring Aizawa’s confusion as he continues, “I’ve destroyed the tapes for Bakugo’s safety, and for the sake of moving on.”

“Why Hizashi?” Aizawa asks.

Nedzu turns to him with a pitying smile, “Aizawa, you need someone other than me to speak with about these things. I know how you are about therapists, especially with the sensitive material you’re dealing with, but you need to be talking to someone about all of this. You almost lost it when you found out about what happened to young Midoriya. There were moments that I briefly feared for Bakugo’s safety while you were speaking with him. I- I know who it is you see when you look at Midoriya, and I’m asking you to talk to the only other person that will understand that pain. Speak to your husband, Aizawa, he’s worried about you.”

“I know.” Aizawa drags a hand down his face, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders, “I will. I just- It’s difficult.”

“I understand.” Nedzu assures, turning back to the window, “Do you think I made the right decision?”

“As much as I want to hate that kid, I think you did,” Aizawa sighs, “You’re right, he needs help. I need to figure out how to look past this. I just- He broke my trust. He broke my trust in the worst way. Hurting someone the way he did-”

“Hurting Izuku? Or hurting Oboro?” Nedzu cuts in, “Because they are different, Aizawa. I need you to see that. Oboro is gone and Izuku isn’t him.”

“I know that!” Aizawa says, far more forcefully than he had meant to, “Don’t you- Don't you think I know that? I just- you’re right. In a way you’re right, I do see Oboro when I look at him, but he’s not all I see. I see Izuku for who he is.”

“A student?” Nedzu asks, “A victim?”

“A kid,” Aizawa corrects, “A kid who made some mistakes and is trying his best to move past them. I guess they both are.”

Nedzu smiles, apparently having found the reaction he had been waiting for. 

“Right, Aizawa. Now, you should go home, get some rest.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Aizawa gathers his things, turning to the door.

“Talk to him,” Nedzu calls after him, “If you get the chance.”

Aizawa nods, finally exiting the office. 

This was going to be one hell of a year.

Chapter Text

“If you think about it, pop tarts and hot pockets are just the same food but in a different, uh, font.” Izuku continues. His new favorite pastime is saying things that are almost correct to Shinsou and watching him implode trying to find reasons Izuku is wrong. It’s addicting.

“I am not having this discussion with you!” Shinsou throws his hands up, face still red from the last argument: whether cream puffs could be described as boxes.

“Okay,” Iida interrupts, “Let’s all calm down-”

“No wait, he’s got a point, let him talk.” Uraraka leans forward, grinning as both Iida and Shinsou splutter at her. Izuku returns her grin.

“Thank you, finally someone appreciates critical thought!” 

“You described etymological categories as FONTS!” Shinsou cries, far more distressed than he would like to admit, “You do not get to decide what is and is not critical thought !”

Iida stares at him open-mouthed, seemingly surprised by Shinsou’s unusual display of emotion. Shinsou, however, is too far gone to have the decency to be embarrassed. 

“Well, have you considered that toothpaste is-”

“Finish that sentence, Izuku,” Shinsou glares at him with the heat of a thousand suns, “I dare you.”

Izuku, wisely, shuts his mouth. Uraraka, sensing that the fun is over, heaves a sigh and settles back down in her seat. After a moment of thought she turns to Izuku.

“You know, I’m glad you’re alright,” Her tone has changed, now far more serious, almost melancholy, “You really worried me for a while there.”

Izuku turns to her, confused for a minute, before remembering that Uraraka had been the one that he was partnered with for the exercise. He doesn’t remember being partnered with her, but Shinsou had explained the events of the day to him. (And let him borrow his maddeningly familiar notes, seeing as Izuku had lost pretty much the entire day, give or take.)

“Oh right,” Izuku worries his bottom lip between his teeth, “If I’m being honest I can’t remember anything. Hopefully I didn’t freak you out too much.” 

He doesn’t say it, but internally he’s hoping she had been left unaware of his breakdown. Aizawa had told him what had happened, explaining that Izuku could use his quirk against himself, apparently, at least with that move. Izuku wanted to ask him more of the specifics of what happened, but it became obvious pretty quickly that whatever Aizawa saw, he wasn’t interested in retelling. Izuku is both thankful and frustrated that he can’t remember it, but he let’s Aizawa keep his secrets for him.

“Oh, well it wasn’t just you,” Urarak continues with an uneasy smile, “It was Bakugo I was most worried about. The building kept shaking from his explosions and for a while there I thought it was going to go down. I wasn’t terribly worried until you turned off your comm.”

“I turned off my comm?” Izuku, naturally, doesn’t remember this.

“Yeah, I tried to get you to stop, but you said you didn’t want me to hear what was going to happen.”

“Oh,” Yeah, that sounds like him. That was probably a good move, honestly. Especially considering the destruction and his condition when he had entered the infirmary. He’s really glad that the school wasn’t required to send his mother a full report. He’s even more glad that he had been able to convince Shinsou to water down the events so as to avoid killing his mother via heart attack. 

“But you seem alright now, and that’s all that matters!” Uraraka continues, the twinge of unease never fully leaving her features. 

“Right.” Izuku nods, sensing that this was the sort of thing that he should maybe just agree to. There’s no reason for her to know how close he had gotten to biting it. He hasn’t even let it sink in for himself, and he’s pretty sure Shinsou hasn’t either. 

“Shut up, class is starting,” Aizawa breezes into the room, throwing his balled-up sleeping bag behind his desk, Bakugo walking in silently behind him and taking his seat in the back. 

Izuku spares him a single glance, noting the way the other boy’s eyes stay downcast, the usual proud angle of his shoulders turned to something softer, something more defensive. Izuku can’t help but wonder what the other boy’s punishment had been.

“Today we’ll be doing something a little different. The decisions you make today will determine your futures,” Aizawa glares around the classroom, the students holding their breath in anticipation of his next words. His gaze pauses on Izuku for a moment, some strange emotion crossing his face before he returns to his scowl, continuing, “Today you will be choosing your class representative.”

A collective sigh escapes, the pink-skinned girl in the front muttering, “Oh thank God, normal high school stuff.”

Izuku can’t help but agree. He hopes that Aizawa’s weird looks will fade once the memory of him and Bakugo’s fight is no longer so fresh. He really doesn’t like being in the spotlight, especially with this guy. 

“I don’t care how you do it, but someone needs to be decided upon by the end of the class period,” Aizawa slumps behind his desk again, unfurling his sleeping bag and slumping against the wall, “Don’t wake me up.” He grumbles, his head dropping and staying down.

A second passes as they all watch this with mild shock and amusement, and then the class explodes in a cacophony of sound. 

“I think I would be the obvious choice-”

“No no, I should be in charge-”

“I shine the brightest for a reason, non?”

“Shut up, everyone knows I’m your guy-”

“No, I-”

Izuku tunes them out, turning to Shinsou with a roll of his eyes. Shinsou returns the look, a smile of wry amusement growing on his own face. Why the hell was everyone clamoring over each other like this? Sure, the position might lend you a tiny bit of notoriety, but certainly not enough to warrant this much noise, especially with a sleeping Aizawa nearby. Izuku had no interest in taking on the responsibility, so he’s surprised when he hears his name being thrown around.

“Midoriya could do it!” Uraraka cheers, and to Izuku’s mortification, a few people around her nod in agreement, “He’s a natural leader, and nearly top of the class!”

“If you want top of the class wouldn’t you want him?” Izuku points at Shinsu, who gives him a rather dramatic look of betrayal.

“No no, I’m all good. I want nothing to do with this, “Shinsou promptly turns away from the conversation, digging his headphones out of his bag and taking full advantage of Aizawa’s inattention to use them. 

Before Iida can get onto his case, Uraraka is distracting the blue-haired boy, talking to him in a hushed whisper. He hesitates, but nods.

“Eh-hem!” He clears his throat forcefully, arms already at a ninety-degree angle and swinging fast, “I believe the most rational course of action to choose a representative would be a democratic election!”

“But everyone will just vote for themselves!” A yellow haired kid, that Izuku now knows as Kaminari, responds in a whine. 

“Precisely!” Iida, not one to be put out by a mere objection, continues, “Each person will want to vote for themselves, but they are only one person. The person with the most votes will be someone who has managed to inspire confidence in at least one other person, thus proving themselves deserving of the role!”

Izuku had to admit, that made sense to him, and seeing how Iida had turned chaos to order so quickly, he knew exactly who he would be voting for. 

“All right!” Kaminari cheers, “Let’s do it!”

Izuku smiles as the class clambers to decide on a voting system, but his eyes are drawn to one of the few points of stillness in the room. Bakugo hasn’t moved or spoken since class started. Normally, he would have demanded to have been appointed president by now, but he simply sits quietly, an open notebook in front of him, a pencil resting untouched atop of it. Izuku wonders what on earth could have caused such a transformation, and he’s suddenly just a little more grateful that he hadn’t retained his memories of their fight. 

---

“Alright! Quiet down!” Iida calls from the front of the classroom, a groggy Aizawa blinking up at him, confused at being awoken from his nap, but apparently not particularly mad about it, “The votes are in, I will be recording the results here.”

At first, everything is fine, everything following suit, everyone voting for themselves. One vote per student, like clockwork. And then it starts.

“One vote for Midoriya!” Izuku flinches, he hadn’t voted for himself. He prays it’s a fluke.

“Another vote for Midoriya!” Iida reads a few minutes later.

“Another vote for Yaoyorozu!” Izuku breathes a sigh of relief. They were tied now, so hopefully-

“And another vote for Midoriya!” Izuku sinks in his chair. God dammit. This was the last thing he needed. He just wanted to be allowed to melt into the background. Was that too much to ask? Really?

“One left!” Iida announces as he pulls the last slip of paper, his voice a little strained. Even though Izuku has only known him for a bit, he knows it’s from disappointment. His heart wrenches a little. If anyone should be getting the position- “One vote for Iida!”

Iida smiles a little as he marks the tally by his name, and Izuku smiles too, glad he could be his friend's vote of confidence. 

“So it’s decided then,” Aizawa grumbles, rising from his sleeping bag like a corpse from the grave, “The class rep for 1-A will be Izuku Midoriya.”

Exclamations of excitement, congratulations, and disappointment ring out through the classroom. Someone claps him on the shoulder, but Izuku hardly feels it. He feels cold and hot all at once and he very desperately wants to sink under his desk and stay there, but suddenly he's being pulled to the front of the classroom, and everyone is staring at him expectantly, and Aizawa is sending him looks he can’t decipher, and oh god this was all too much.

“I- uh- why?” He practically squeaks, ignoring the way his hands have started to shake.

“Simple,” Yaoyorozu speaks beside him, having gotten the second most votes, she’ll be the vice president, “They believe in you. At least, three of them do, unless you voted for yourself.”

Izuku shakes his head, not sure just how much more obvious he can make it that this is a nightmare. Aizawa grunts with approval, and the class gives one last cheer before they are allowed to go back to their seats. 

Izuku takes his with a breath of relief, folding in on himself and sinking low near the desk. Shinsou shoots him a concerned glance, his headphones having been stored away as soon as Aizawa had shown signs of stirring. Izuku can only offer him a panicked glance in return, and Shinsou seems to get the message, looking sheepish. 

Suddenly, Izuku remembers that Shinsou’s name hadn’t been called. Shinsou hadn’t received any votes, yet he had voted. Wait.

Did he?

Izuku looks up again with a glare and Shinsou promptly turns back around. Izuku silently promises that this won’t be the end of things, grudgingly opening his notes as Present Mic makes his entrance, already shouting about conjugation.

Izuku will enact his revenge.

--- 

A few hours later he and Shinsou walk to the cafeteria in a much noisier fashion than they usually did. 

Before Izuku could pounce on Shinsou after class had let out, Iida and Uraraka were already at their desks, inviting them to eat lunch with them. Shinsou, knowing that Izuku was far too polite to tear into him in front of their new friends, hastily and enthusiastically agreed, much to the surprise and pleasure. 

So now here he is, shooting glares at Shinsou as best he can over Iida’s shoulder as Uraraka goes on about the complexities of disaster response hero teams. Normally, Izuku would be enraptured, but he can’t forget what Shinsou had done. Scratch that- he was trying not to forget what Shinsou had done. Shinsou had found out that Izuku’s brain moved so fast and thought about so many things at once that, given enough time since the incident, Izuku would quite literally forget he was mad at him about something, and by the time he remembers, he’s either moved on or the issue is solved. Either way, Izuku had figured out his games after a couple months and he was determined not to let this one go without giving Shinsou a piece of his mind.

Once they’re all settled at their table, Shinsou and Izuku on one side, Uraraka and Iida on the other, Izuku can already feel his anger fading. He’s never had great luck keeping it, especially in relation to Shinsou. Especially when Shinsou is sending him those glances every time someone says something that could be suggestive in an attempt to make Izuku laugh or blush. 

“Oh, you two are so cute together!” Uraraka croons, Iida nodding along with her. Izuku stops, staring with confusion as Shinsou turns bright red beside him, scooting a bit farther down the bench. It isn’t until he moves that Izuku realizes they had been practically pressed up against each other. Huh.

“What do you mean?” He asks, noting the way Shinsou sinks down a little further in his peripheral. 

“Well you’re both just so in sync with each other, so comfortable. How long have you been together?”

Izuku chokes. Oh. They thought they were- well- that certainly explains some things. Izuku feels his own face heating up as he stammers out a response.

“Wh- What? No, no we’re not- We don’t-” He glances at Shinsou, who is still trying to sink down beneath the table. Ah, so he’ll be no help here, then, “We- we aren’t together!” He finally finishes, feeling as though his face was going to melt with embarrassment.

“Wait, really?” Uraraka blinks in confusion, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, we’re just friends. We only met a year ago when we started training for the entrance exam.”

“Oh, well at least that explains how you two are so good at working together, and how comfortable you are around each other,” Iida adds, squinting as he tries to re-shape his perception of his friends’ relationship. Everything didn’t quite add up.

“But you guys are almost always touching or looking at each other, and you are on first-name basis, and you have matching costumes, and-”

“Okay, okay-” Izuku interrupts. Oh no, she had a point, “I get it, but seriously, we’re not dating, we’re just close!”

“Hmm” Uraraka doesn’t look totally convinced, but before she can question him further, the alarms are sounding. 

Izuku never thought he could find salvation in the form of emergency alarms.

Chapter Text

“What is that?” Uraraka yells over the noise. All around them students have abandoned their tables in favor of running toward the exit, causing an impressive bottleneck.

“That’s the level three security breach!” An upperclassman yells to them, “I’ve been here for three years and this has never happened!”

“What does it mean?!” Izuku calls back.

“It means someone got into the school!” The upperclassman is swept away by the tide of students all clamoring for the exit. 

“Come on,” Shinsou grabs his arm, following after Iida and Uraraka as they, too, make their way toward the exit. Uraraka reaches back, catching Izuku’s other arm and taking hold of Iida so that they’re all in a chain. 

Izuku silently thanks her, not wanting to be swept away by the crowds. All the students pressing together quickly becomes suffocating and he has to fight the urge to release a terrifying aura just to get some space. If the growing unease on Shinsou’s face is anything to go by, he’s not doing much better. 

The noise continues to rise, a familiar spike of pain shooting behind Izuku’s eyes. Ever since he was released from the Infirmary he’s felt weird. Random pains and headaches, vertigo, ringing ears, even some trouble sleeping. Hell, he’s starting to think he’s not just tired from the healing and recovery. His limbs feel like they’ve been filled with sand. 

Of course, he hasn’t mentioned any of this, because chances are it’s all just part of healing, and it’s not like it's stopping him from getting things done, so there’s no reason to whine about it. He bites back a cry and closes his eyes against the light, hoping it will pass. 

Shinsou drags him along unaware, and Izuku is grateful. The noise only increases as they are pushed further into the bottleneck, elbows and shoulders spiking out and hitting his still-sore ribs every few minutes, making it difficult for him to catch his breath and regain his bearings. His anxiety spikes and he digs his fingernails into the palm of his free hand to try and keep himself from dissociating or freaking out. 

Everyone is pressed against him and hitting him and it’s loud and hot and it hurts .

A sudden commotion somewhere ahead of him makes the people nearest him shove back, tearing him from Shinsou’s grip.

Untethered, he’s quickly overtaken by the crowd. He opens his eyes, but he can’t make sense of all the movement and bright colors and noise. His headache spikes again and he hisses, his vision swimming. An elbow swings back and catches him in the temple and he crumples to the ground.

Someone trips over him, crashing on top of him and pushing his head into the ground before they manage to scramble up. They say something and try to pull at him, but he can’t understand them anymore.

Izuku takes a tentative step back, avoiding the crater that Bakugou had blasted into the floor only seconds ago. He can feel the heat rising from it, slithering along the back of his neck.

Flashes come back to him, nonsensical noises and shapes and lights. He’s being attacked all over again, it hurts .

He just needs a minute, he just needs some air. He needs to think. Everything is so loud, so loud and painful and bright.

The shuffling around him seems to come to a stop, the accidental kicks and stray elbows ceasing their attacks. He can’t calm his breathing though. The gasping hurts his ribs but he can’t stop. His head feels like it’s splitting open.

He’s thrown back toward a wall that isn’t there anymore, scraping across the floor, one of his legs falling over the edge, dangling into the nothingness. It’s so loud. It’s so, so loud. It hurts. It burns.

Izuku grits his teeth until they creak, fighting back the overwhelming pain and nausea that rips through him. The room is spinning, the floor beneath him shifting so he can’t tell whether he’s on the ground or he’s still falling. The crowd is largely quiet now, but the ringing in his ears still grows louder, sharper. 

The shadows around him shift, clearing the way for more light, more pain to reach him. Distantly, he knows something is terribly wrong, but he can’t seem to figure out what. What is going on? How did he get here? What’s happening?

“Let me through!” Someone yells behind him, the shadows shifting again.

“Hey, hey Izuku, come on man,” That voice is familiar, that voice is safe , “Whoah, that’s not good.”

Izuku blinks up at Shinsou, knowing it’s him even though his eyes can’t quite seem to focus. The light hurts so badly, the pressure building behind his eyes, so he shuts them again, reaching out a trembling hand to meet Shinsou’s arm. He grabs hold as best he can, pulling himself up off the floor, ignoring the way that seems to make the world spin. 

“Izuku I need you to open your eyes, please,” Shinsou takes hold of his face and Izuku groans, another wave of pain passing through him. Thankfully, the ringing is finally starting to fade.

Izuku does as he’s instructed, blinking blearily into the light, willing his eyes to focus. They don’t quite manage it before he has to shut them again, gritting his teeth against the pain.

“Okay, your pupils aren’t responding to the light. I’m going to help you up, alright?” Shinsou tells him, voice even, but urgent.

Izuku nods, gripping his arm tighter. The dizziness is starting to pass a bit, but he worries the change in position will start it up again. Shinsou wraps an arm around him, being careful to avoid putting any unnecessary pressure on his ribs. 

“Up we go,” Shinsou hoists him up, swinging one of Izuku’s arms over his shoulders. 

Sure enough, the world starts to spin again, a dry heave forcing its way up Izuku’s throat. Shinsou starts dragging him away, not even bothering to try and get Izuku’s feet under him. He settles Izuku down on a bench belonging to one of the abandoned tables and Izuku has never been so grateful for a solid surface in his life. 

“Do I need to get recovery girl?” Shinsu asks, taking Izuku’s face in his hands again to try and assess the boy’s condition. His dizziness is fading fast, focus coming back to his eyes, even if the light still hurts like a half-assed lobotomy.

“No,” He manages to get out, forcing himself to re-orient, “No, I’m okay. I just got overwhelmed is all. Just really dizzy.”

“Your concussion isn’t completely healed yet, did you get trampled when you fell?”

“Not really, no,” Izuku lies, it hadn’t been that bad and he’s feeling fine now, so it’s not a big deal. His hands still shake from the shards of memory that had forced themselves into his mind, the phantom tone of his ringing ears still echoing in his mind, “I’m okay, I just need a minute.”

He closes his eyes, focusing on controlling his trembling limbs. He’s fine. He’s safe. He’s definitely worrying Shinsou. 

His gut twists a little at that last thought and he forces his eyes open, squinting as he adjusts to the light again. Slowly, the pain behind his eyes fades to a dull ache and he can see. 

Shinsou is looking at him as though he had cracked his head open all over again. Izuku hates the way his eyes go wide, their usual half-open smugness completely gone. It really doesn’t suit him. He offers him a smile, straightening up and squinting around the room as he regains his bearings. The students have gone back to milling around in confusion. Many gather by the windows while others meander back to their tables or talk amongst themselves. 

“What made everyone calm down?” He asks, a spark of amusement blooming in Shinsou’s expression at the question.

“After we got separated by the crowd Uraraka and Iida pulled off a crazy move and managed to launch Iida over everyone else. He landed above the door and managed to get everyone’s attention. Apparently the alarm was because the media managed to get in the front gates, so there’s no actual invasion threat.” 

Izuku huffs a bit of a laugh at that. He was glad he and Shinsou had shown up before the crowd of reporters got too out of control, he’s not sure he could handle having a microphone shoved in his face first thing in the morning. 

“Thank God he and Uraraka managed to convince them. I was worried we were going to have some casualties if that kept up the way it had been going.”

Shinsou makes a face at that, but it’s gone before Izuku can read it and he’s smiling again, “I’m going to start calling him Emergency Exit Iida.”

“Noo,” Izuku grins back, “Don’t bully our friends.”

“You should have seen it, Izuku, He pinned himself above the door, just like an emergency exit, shaking all over. I’m so bringing it up next time he yells at me for running in the halls. He launched himself like a rocket, there’s no way that’s in accordance with the student handbook.”

Izuku gives him an incredulous look, before being pounced upon.

“There you are!” Uraraka yells, throwing herself down beside Izuku and wrapping him (and a good portion of Shinsou) in a brief hug. Izuku would be lying if he said this wasn’t a little jarring.

“We lost track of you in the chaos,” Iida approaches much more calmly, though he looks more disheveled than Izuku had ever seen him, “I apologize for that. I should have been keeping better track of everyone.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shinsou placates him, “I let go when Izuku got thrown into the crowd. He fell so I had a little trouble finding him, but he seems to be doing better now.”

“Yeah, I’m all good.” 

Iida and Uraraka stare at him for a long moment before turning to each other, and then to Shinsou. Well fuck, is he that obvious?

“Yeah his concussion isn’t totally healed yet, so he got overwhelmed with all the noise and stuff.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Uraraka says, Iida interjecting at the same time with:

“You look pale, Midoriya!”

“Uh, thanks,” Izuku feels the need to melt into his seat, but a sudden idea stops him, all embarrassment forgotten. Oh, this was perfect .

“Hey Iida, the class president gets to make announcements, right?” he asks.

‘Well, yes. That is included in the responsibilities of the role. Why do you ask?”

“You’ll see, it’ll be great, I promise.”

The others exchange looks, varying from concerned to exasperated, but like much else with Midoriya, they’ll just have to wait and see what he’ll do. 

---

Shinsou forces himself to look away from Izuku as they make their way back to the classroom. He’s far more steady on his feet than he had been, but Shinsou still feels as though they should have gone to recovery girl for a quick checkup, just to make sure he was healing okay. 

Izuku, of course, had other plans and promptly decided to pretend his episode in the cafeteria had never happened at all. Shinsou can’t help but wonder if that’s because it isn’t an isolated incident. Has he been having symptoms like these since his discharge? Why hadn’t he brought it up?

He watches as Izuku smiles at something Uraraka said. He looks happy. He looks perfectly normal, perfectly fine, and if Shinsou hadn’t seen the state he had been in a half-hour prior he would have thought he was fine.

Shinsou frowns. What else could Izuku be hiding that he can’t see? What makes up the invisible burden his friend carries?

The classroom grows quiet as they enter, followed by much cheering and noise for Iida, who only smiles sheepishly.

“Way to go, Iida!” Someone yells.

“How did you even do that?” asks another.

Suddenly quiet falls on the class again as Izuku steps up to the podium, knocking on the wood to get their attention. He still looks pale, and Shinsou can see him shaking from nerves all the way across the room, but he recognizes the determined glint in his friend’s eye.

“In light of what happened today, I’d like to make an announcement,” His voice is steady and sure, “I think we all now see that Iida has what it takes to lead in moments of crisis. His quick action and willingness to step up made a huge difference for us today. For this reason, I think Iida would be better suited to the position of class president.”

Iida looks like he’s about to burst into tears, beaming at Izuku like he had just hung the stars in the sky.

“Well,” Kaminari practically shouts, “If it’s good enough for Midoriya, it's good enough for me. Let’s hear it for class president Iida!”

The class cheers again as Izuku hurries back to his seat, Shinsou offering him a knowing glance as he passes. 

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Aizawa, who had apparently been hanging around the entrance, watching the whole thing go down, enters the room with a bored expression, “Congratulations Iida, now everyone shut up.”

Shinsou smiles. Somehow Izuku always manages to put everything back in its rightful place.

---

The room is dark, the soft clink of bottles being shuffled and cleaned behind the bar accentuating the stifling quiet. A quiet otherwise filled with the static hum emitting from the idle speakers of the broadcast screen in the corner. A shadowed figure rests on screen, nearly motionless as it watches its pupil with rapt interest.

“It was almost too easy, sensei,” Shigaraki bites back a laugh, “I got everything I came for and more. They blamed it on the press, I doubt they even know to look for what was taken.”

“What do you mean?” The shadow on the screen leans forward with interest.

“The rat didn’t just keep their schedules and movements in his top-secret files. I found some information on a student as well.”

“Go on,” The shadow prompts.

“Oh no, sensei,” Shigaraki brings out the memory card with a cracking smile, “You simply have to see this for yourself.”

Chapter meme:

Chapter Text

“Tell me, Bakugou, have you ever heard of the theory of Growth Mindset versus Fixed Mindset?” His therapist leans forward in her chair, something warm, yet analytical in her eyes. She reminded him of Dek- Izuku in that way.

“It sounds like bullshit,” Therapy was one of the few places that he still allowed himself to speak unchecked. Everywhere else he was watched like a hawk, expected to be a model citizen, but not here. In fact, his therapist had told him off during their first meeting for filtering his words and expressions. She allowed him- no- required him to behave in accordance with how he feels. 

“Fair enough, but let me explain,” She references her notes before looking up and locking eyes with him. Her eyes were grey, but in the right light, he could mistake them for green, “This theory became popular in the early 2000s with educational and developmental specialists. It addresses one of the most subtle, yet pervasive, ways that adults damage a child’s mental and emotional development: The manner in which a child is praised.”

“I don’t see how that could really be that bad,” Katsuki grumbles.

“Then allow me to explain,” She offers him a smile that he doesn’t return, “A child’s perception of themselves is almost entirely shaped by the speech and behavior of those around them. An attractive child will not know themselves as such unless their peers and caretakers point this out to them. Similarly, an unattractive child will have no insecurities about their appearance unless someone gives them a reason to develop them. Every child, when building their identity, relies on the perceptions of others to shape it. If you tell a child they are smart enough times they will believe you and incorporate it into their identity. If, at any time, that identity is challenged, either by outside forces, or the observations and perceptions of the child themselves, this dissonance will cause great distress. They’ve built their perceived identity based on what others perceived. It has become their own perceived value. Perhaps the ‘smart’ child was really just a very hard worker or had a natural love of learning. When their perception of themselves as ‘smart’ is inevitably challenged by some small intellectual failure, the child will experience a variety of effects including, but not limited to: impostor syndrome, depression, distorted self-perception, self-alienation, shame, guilt, and a loss of motivation. The child will grow into a world of absolutes, and they will be ill-equipped to handle the many grey areas that life is riddled with. 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” Bakugou crosses his arms, promptly uncrossing them when he remembers his ‘defensive body language’ being called out during their second session. 

“You live in a world of absolutes, Bakugou.”

“No, I don’t,” He scoffs. He’s not some stupid kid. He knows who he is and he knows how the world works.

“You do, and I’ll list them. All of these words are yours,” She looks at her notepad, flipping the page and adjusting her glasses, “You are strong. You are smart. You are powerful. ‘Deku’ is weak. Everyone is stupid. Heroes win. Villains lose. You win, so you’re a hero. Does all of this sound right?”

It sounds stupid when she says it. Like the words of a self-obsessed toddler. Did he really sound like that? He grunts, neither agreeing or disagreeing. 

“When ‘Deku’-”

“-Izuku. I call him Izuku now.”

“When Izuku became strong, when he challenged that absolute, you lost control.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did, Bakugou. You lost control and someone nearly died.” 

She doesn’t say it with any bite, but it doesn’t stop the sick feeling pooling in his stomach. She was right. He hated that she was right.

“Okay fine, I got mad because he disrespected me.”

“You lost control because he challenged your perception of your own identity by changing the way he allowed you to view him. You can hardly believe someone is weak if they’re beating you in a fight. If your perception of your own strength relies on the apparent weakness of another individual, and your perception of your own strength determines your self-worth, then it is only natural that that individual’s success would be threatening to you. You felt the need to exact revenge for this perceived attack on your identity. You sought for control of something that you have no business being in control of.”

“Fine! Dammit, fine! I’m developmentally fucked because I got complimented or whatever. Fine, just- Just tell me how I fix it!”

“Okay, for starters, you aren’t strong. You aren’t smart. You aren’t powerful. You aren’t a hero yet, and you won’t always win. In fact, heroes don’t always win. Sometimes they don’t even survive. Izuku is capable of great things, as is everyone else.”

Bakugou hates the way his chest hurts, hates the way tears sting at his eyes, “Fine,” He croaks, avoiding her eyes, “What am I then?”

“For starters, you’re Bakugou Katsuki. You’re an aspiring hero, an aspiring public servant. You are capable of strength, and through hard work you may grow stronger. You are capable of and responsible for great powers. Powers that have the potential to kill as well as save. You apply a lot of effort into the things you care about. You study diligently and this allows you to learn and get good grades. You are not above your peers, simply apart from them, and some part of you still wants to close that gap. You are currently fearful of vulnerability. You currently feel threatened by the power and success of your classmates, namely Izuku. You are growing and learning and your personality is made up of what efforts you prioritize, not superficial labels and absolutes.”

“I don’t know how to change the way my brain thinks just like that,” He snaps, feeling drained from this conversation, it was a lot to swallow, a lot to accept. Part of him still doesn’t accept it, “I can’t just change who I am.”

“Why not?”

Bakugou looks up sharply, caught off-guard by the question, “What?”

“You heard me: Why can’t you change who you are? People do it all the time. I do it every day. There is no person on this planet who remains unchanged by time and experience. You shouldn’t expect yourself to be able to remain perfectly constant for years upon years. It’s unrealistic and unreasonable.”

Bakugou only stares, letting her words sink in. How much has he changed in the past few days compared to the past ten years? Is this what lies ahead of him, questions and uncertainty? Rebuilding and rediscovering who he is?

It sounds exhausting. It’s easier, in a lot of ways, to hold onto his view of the world. He wants so desperately to hold onto what’s familiar, what makes sense . But the tighter he grips it, the faster it slips away from him, doubts and fears and truths pouring in where once there was a barricade made of pride and rage and misguided confidence. The thought of those barriers, those protections, being torn down makes him feel sick. The small, neglected parts of him flinch in fear. The parts that are starved for affection and care. The parts that he buried when he made himself grow up too fast for the sake of being strong. 

Within him, a four-year-old steps toward the light with a trembling gait, wondering what it means to feel like a regular person, what it feels like to allow himself to be human, flinching at every threat of rejection. Bakugou doesn’t know how to protect him anymore. He’s not sure he ever did. 

---

“This Friday we’ll be doing a special training at an off-campus facility. I ask that you try to arrive ten minutes early to ensure we can get there in a timely manner. You’ll be taking your hero costumes, so if you’ve encountered any issues or need any repairs, please take care of them prior to Friday.” Aizawa reads through his announcements in a bored tone, ignoring the excited muttering that flits about the class at the mention of their upcoming field trip, “Alright, we have ten minutes of downtime until Mic gets here, don’t wake me up unless someone is dying.”

The class just nods, a few half-hearted “yes, sir!”s being thrown around as he settles behind his desk. He keeps one eye open, watching his class where they can’t see him.

The events of yesterday seem to have completely slid off their backs. Not even a hint of genuine tension can be found amongst any of them, except of course Bakugo, Todoroki, and Izuku. Bakugo is probably just trying to keep from blowing something up, and Todoroki has been like that since the start of the year. It’s worrying, but so far it hasn't affected his performance, so Aizawa has decided to wait to address the issue. He doesn’t want to scare the kid off before he can develop a rapport. 

Izuku, however, is a whole different story. The kid was looking better than he had after the cafeteria fiasco, but not by much. He was obviously tired, the shadows under his eyes even darker than usual. His skin was pale and he sat quietly with his friends, only interjecting when directly addressed. The kid looked stiff, staring at his hands or blinking at the wall every few minutes. Finally, the kid just lays his head down on his desk and closes his eyes. 

Aizawa can tell by the tension in his shoulders that he’s not asleep. His eyes are shut tight as he takes deep breaths in through his nose, like he’s in pain or nauseous or something. Aizawa frowns, watching as his friends continue talking, Shinsou mentioning something about him being tired to placate the others. Still, he sends the occasional worried glance to the other boy and Aizawa wonders what he knows that the others don’t. 

Obviously the two are close. That much had been apparent since day one. According to Mic, Shinsou had been distraught when he couldn’t find Izuku after All Might’s disaster of an exercise, going so far as to confront him directly for information. Aizawa wonders, half-heartedly, if he should discourage their interdependence, but then remembers his own friends back in his years at UA. Their trio had been just as tightly-knit, if not worse.

Of course, that hadn’t ended spectacularly, but he’s not going to allow anything similar to happen to these kids. Not if he has any say in it. 

Either way, he’ll need to keep an eye on that kid. Naturally, he’s not cleared for their exercise on Friday just yet, but Aizawa had decided that it would be best if he came along anyway. There will be valuable information and plenty of low-mobility exercises for him, so there’s no reason to hold him back from participating. Besides, he gets the feeling that Midoriya’s classmates will also benefit from having him along, both for the moral support and the fact that he was constantly helping the others understand things. For a kid that smart, though, he sure did do some stupid stuff when it came to his own well-being. 

The thought makes Aizawa’s chest tighten. He’s not sure how to work on that, so he supposes he’ll just have to keep the kid away from any situations that might make him act recklessly until he can figure it out. 

He sighs. Why does he get the feeling that it’s going to be like trying to herd cats away from boxes? In this case, a superpowered cat. Fuck his life. 

---

Izuku has been off all day. Shinsou knows he should talk to him about it, but every time he thinks to bring it up they’re either interrupted or Izuku looks at him with those tired eyes and Shinsou loses the will to shake him down for answers. He doubts he could convince him to go to Recovery Girl, especially since he doesn’t seem to be having any symptoms that he hadn’t been told to be prepared for, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to, even if it just means he’ll be able to know he got some rest. 

He doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping. Hell, even now he’s not sleeping, his shoulders rising and falling with shallow, inconsistent breaths. If there’s one thing Shinsou knows how to read, it’s whether a person is asleep. Having one parent that can’t and another that often won’t means that Shinsou, aside from suffering from insomnia himself, knows how to tell when someone is actually asleep or whether they’re just resting. He also knows what it looks like when someone has gone far too long without proper rest. Right now, Izuku very much fits the bill.

Izuku’s eye bags have always rivaled his own, but now they surpass him, taking on a grayish purple bruise-like quality. It’s been a few days since his incident, so Shinsou had hoped he would be looking better, but aside from his scars having gone back to their usual state, he looked worse. 

“Is he okay?” Uraraka asks, shielding her mouth half-heartedly to keep Izuku from hearing. Shinsou knows for a fact that Izuku hears it, but the boy makes no move to answer.

“Yeah,” He also knows that Izuku doesn’t want his- no, their friends to worry about him, so he says what Izuku would want, “He’s okay, he’s just tired.”

Uraraka nods, before going back to telling Iida something about how potato peelers work. Shinsou tunes them out, focusing on his notebook. 

His dad had taught him how to write in a special form of shorthand that he had made up, a form that only he and his close friends could even read. Shinsou still uses it to take his notes for class (much to Izuku’s annoyance when he asks to borrow them) seeing as it’s so much faster than writing everything out. However, there are other advantages to being able to write things without people being able to read them. Namely when he journals.

He’s not sure when he picked up the habit (if he can even call it that seeing as he hardly does it consistently), but it has proven helpful from time to time. Shinsou hadn’t had many chances to talk his feelings out as a kid, and those opportunities grew even fewer as he got older. Meeting and befriending Izuku had helped a lot with that, but there were certain things that he couldn’t talk to him about. Especially his feelings about Izuku himself.

So here he is, writing out his feelings about someone sitting right behind him like a heartsick middle schooler. Unfortunately, he isn't actually that far removed from that definition. 

It had started as listing his feelings for Izuku like a symptoms log. Entries like, “Makes my chest hurt when he’s away for too long,” and “Butterflies are a pain in the fucking ass,” became common. 

From there, it had evolved to include records of little things that had happened throughout the day. The sort of things he would tell someone if he were comfortable enough to gossip about his crush to a friend. Things Izuku had said and done. All the things he found so endearing. The entries had grown rather considerably in length since he started doing this. It helped to be able to puzzle out his feelings externally, but it also meant he caught himself almost composing sappy poetry about his best friend every few days. 

“Okay, what language is that?” 

Shinsou startles, turning around to find a very confused Kaminari standing behind him, Kirishima beside him also looking rather lost. 

“Oh, uh, it’s- it’s just shorthand.” Shinsou really hopes that’s enough explanation for them. How had they even managed to sneak up on him?

“It doesn’t look like any shorthand I’ve seen,” Kaminari leans closer, squinting, “Are you sure it’s not Korean?”

“Certain,” Shinsou swallows dryly, turning the page back to one that holds more innocent notes. Thankfully, it seems they can’t read it, but he’s not taking chances, “It’s a form my dad uses, so it’s not super widely-known.”

“Oh, neat, what does he do?” Kaminari, now firmly within Shinsou’s personal space, inspects the page of notes like some ancient stone tablet.

“He’s a doctor, a surgeon to be specific.”

“That’s so manly! Does he have some kind of healing quirk?” Kirishima’s grin is surprisingly sharp-looking. Were his teeth just like that or was he hardening them? Can he harden them if they’re already bone?

“No, he just has steady hands and he doesn’t sleep.”

“Ah, a hard worker!”

“No, he literally doesn’t sleep. He can’t. That’s his quirk.”

“Wait- What?” Kirishima looks markedly less enthusiastic than he had a minute ago.

“Yeah, that’s his quirk. It’s weird, but it works for him.”

“Well, then how did you-” Kaminari squints, trying to figure out how not sleeping translates into mind control.

“It’s complicated, but my quirk is a sort of combination between my mother and father’s quirks. It’s a long story, but it doesn’t really matter. What are you guys doing over here anyway?”

“Oh, we came over to talk to Midoriya, but he fell asleep.” Kaminari gestures at Izuku, whose head is still buried in his arms, though Shinsou can tell he’s awake.

“Yeah, he’s been tired this week. What did you need? I can let him know.”

“We were wondering if he might be willing to help us with our study group. Of course, we want all of you guys in our study group, too, but it kind of needs a leader that knows what’s going on before we add people to it. Unfortunately, neither Kaminari or I fit the bill.” Kirishima grins again, though this time far more sheepishly. 

“Oh, well I can ask him once he’s up. What subjects are you guys working on?”

“Mostly mathematics and quirk theory, but I know I’m struggling in the history section of foundational heroics, too. History, in general, isn’t really my thing.”

“I can help with that,” The words are out of Shinsou’s mouth before he can think to stop them. Izuku had rubbed off on him too much. What is he doing? “Izuku pretty much taught me everything he knew when we studied for the exam, not that much of it was actually on the exam. So I can help out if you need.”

Shinsou stiffens as he’s caught in a hug by two weirdly emotional teenagers, both thanking him profusely, but he swears he can see the edge of Izuku’s mouth quirk up. That little bastard.

---

Izuku tries to fall asleep. He really does. Even if it’s just five minutes, that would be five fewer minutes that his brain spends buzzing incessantly behind his eyes. The barrier between consciousness and unconsciousness has begun to feel like a trampoline. Not matter how far he manages to sink down into it, it pushes him back, never letting him break through. In short: He’s going to fucking Lose It if he doesn’t get some rest soon.

Everything grates on his nerves. People talking, shuffling, breathing, pages turning, writing, even the occasional sniff feels like gasoline on the bonfire that is his brain. He knows that it would be unfair of him to react the way his mind wants him to. He knows that it’s not their fault that he’s feeling like this, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the verge of punching something. 

He probably would have punched something by now if it weren’t for the fact that every inch of him is aching, exhaustion weighing down his limbs and eyelids, making his brain pound as he tries to pay attention and act normally. He just wants some peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask?

He’s grateful when Shinsou takes over for him, letting him at least pretend to sleep. He loves their friends and classmates, really, he does. But if he has to be kept trapped in a room with them all for much longer then he’ll risk shattering the idea of him that they’ve built. He makes an effort to be kind, even when he doesn’t feel like it, and he really doesn’t have a true mean bone in his body, but sometimes he’s so full of nothingness that he can’t make himself feel anything good or decent towards anyone. He’ll come off as rude or dismissive in the best case, and who's to say if something actually gets to him. He has no filter and his brain feels like it’s burning. God, why does he feel like this?

It bubbles up in his chest, sending shocks of pain and pressure behind his eyes. He closes them tighter, measuring his breaths and clenching his fists. There’s no outlet. He’s been excluded from training for fear of overexertion so he hasn’t been able to allow himself even that catharsis. He wants out. He needs some air. Some silence.

“Okay, what language is that?” 

His thoughts are interrupted by the boys currently leaning between his and Shinsou’s desks, evidently confused by Shinsou’s less-than-traditional note-taking. Izuku himself had been pretty confused by it the first time he had seen it, so he’s not quite surprised that the other students would be as well. 

He listens, expecting Shinsou to dismiss them, but he doesn’t. When Shinsou even offers to help them himself Izuku can’t help the little smile that comes to his lips. Sure, he’s in the shittiest of all shitty moods, but his best friend is finally reaching out to people. How long had it been since he’d had enough confidence and hope to make friends? A warm weight of fondness settles in his chest, and Izuku is able to breathe again for a while.

He’s got this. He can hold it together and make it through this for his and Shinsou’s sake. They’ll be just fine.

“GOOD MORNING LITTLE LISTENAAAAHHHHS!”

Scratch that, his headache just graduated to migraine and he’s going to kill someone. Present Mic is at the top of the list.

He sits up, blinking at the light, and glares at his desk. This is going to be one hell of a day. 

Chapter Text

Izuku’s hero costume has gloves now. 

He doesn’t remember requesting them, but then again, he doesn’t remember a lot of things recently. He slips them on regardless of whether it had been him or Aizawa that had seen fit to add them. Any excuse to show less of his scarring is fine by him. 

Shinsou waits for him outside the locker room, wordlessly joining his side as they make their way towards the busses. Izuku rolls his shoulders, trying in vain to roll out the knots that have formed there. He’s been tense for days. Sleep still eludes him and everything grates on his raw nerves, causing either extreme anxiety or burning frustration and rage. It’s exhausting and he doesn’t know how much longer he has to put up with it before his brain finally lets him get back to normal. 

He had nearly caved and went to visit Recovery Girl that morning, but he didn’t want to have to be held back from training any longer. If he doesn’t find a way to dispel some of this restless energy then he might just snap. Besides, most of the pain has faded, only the tenseness and irritability remaining. God, why did it have to be rescue training? For once he’d actually love to punch something.

The sun is already bright in the sky when they emerge into the courtyard. The bus is waiting at the curb, the majority of class 1-A ambling aimlessly while they wait for the others to finish changing. Almost everyone chose to wear their hero costumes, including Shinsou and himself. 

Izuku knows he’s seen Shinsou in his hero costume before, but he can’t exactly remember it. He really hopes he hadn't made a fool of himself before, because as it is, he can hardly look at his friend without blushing. 

The suit is skin-tight, as they had designed them, but Izuku had apparently not envisioned the potential issues with such a design. Sure, they’re incredibly mobile and effective, but they’re also incredibly distracting . Okay, maybe they’re only distracting for him, but he really wishes he had taken this risk into account. Shinsou walks slightly ahead of him, his mouthguard and visor hanging casually around his neck, his armor moving fluidly with his every step, entirely unimpeded by his jumpsuit. Dear God, what had Izuku been thinking? 

He pushes those thoughts away, focusing on what he should be worried about. He and Shinsou hadn’t trained a ton in the field of rescue, having believed the entry exam would be a combative exercise, but they hadn’t ignored it by any means. Their utility belts are each equipped with emergency medical supplies, flares, and other such equipment for emergency situations. Theoretically, they’re prepared for this exercise, but only time will tell just how well prepared they actually are. Izuku is kind of curious to see how well they’ll do. 

“Please form a double-file line so that we can load the bus in an organized manner!” Iida is yelling from his place by Aizawa, arms waving about mechanically. Aizawa somehow looks both bored and amused by this, a look that likely doesn’t bode well for Iida.

Sure enough, five minutes later they’re pulling out of the parking lot, Iida’s plan having been thwarted by the internal layout of the bus. Izuku sits by Shinsou, ignoring the way the boy’s leg is pressed firmly against his own as he listens to Iida’s distressed muttering. Izuku would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried about how upset he had been that his plan had failed, but it’s really not his place to judge. 

“Midoriya,” Tsuyu croaks from her seat across from him, a look he can’t quite read settling across her features, “I usually speak what’s on my mind, so don’t take offense to this, but your quirk seems kind of, well, unstable.”

Izuku blinks. Well, yeah, from what his class had seen it had sent him to the infirmary twice and made him split open with wounds right in front of them on the first day. Honestly, it’s a fair assessment. 

“You think so?” He asks thoughtfully.

“I do, kero. What exactly is your quirk?”

Ah, the ten-million-dollar question. What the genuine fuck is Izuku’s quirk?

“To be honest with you, nobody is entirely certain. I only got it less than a year ago after an accident. I know it has something to do with my life-force or energy. My antlers only seem to grow when I’m harnessing too much energy for my body to safely handle. It sort of holds me together, since it saved my life from all this,” He gestures to the spider-webbed cracks that cover the right side of his face. He isn’t totally sure how to explain this, “It’s like a psychic energy type of quirk.”

“Psychic energy and your life force? So like a soul force type of thing?” Uraraka asks.

“Huh, I never thought about that. Here, one second,” He pulls out his notebook. A soul-based quirk. That could be it. It would certainly explain why he had had to die in order to activate it. It could also explain what he’s latching onto when he rips at people with his quirk, and why he has so many emotion-based abilities. Did Uraraka really just figure out his quirk without even trying?

“Wait, you mentioned an accident, kero, what accident?” Tsuyu asks.

“O-oh, well, I got hit by a car. It- it messed me up pretty badly, but my quirk revived me, so I was totally okay.” Shinsou flinches a little beside him, likely less-than-pleased with Izuku’s cavalier tone. 

“Woah, that’s why you have all those manly scars?” Kirishima leans forward to stare at Izuku’s scars with a new sense of awe, “I thought they developed because of your quirk, not the other way around.”

Before Izuku can respond, Tsuyu is speaking again.

“If you only got your quirk less than a year ago, then you had to have decided to attend UA before it developed. Were you planning to try and get in without a quirk?”

“I- uh- yeah. I guess I was.” A scoff from Bakugou startles him. It’s the first sound he’s heard out of the boy since their disastrous training exercise. 

“It’s a hero’s quirk for sure, then!” Kirishima cheers, “You wanted to be a hero even before you got it, and it’s certainly flashy enough! Mine’s not so impressive compared to a lot of you guys.”

“What do you mean? Your quirk is so strong!” Izuku blurts. He hadn’t meant to just shout it out, but it was true, so he sees no harm in it, “I mean, it’s great for hero work, and it really seems to fit you.” 

“Ah, thanks Midoriya,” He rubs the back of his neck, flustered, “But if anyone has a powerful flashy hero’s quirk here, it’s Todoroki and Bakugo.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame Bakugou will never be popular, though, not with that terrible attitude of his.” Kaminari laughs.

“Hah?!” Bakugou bursts out from his seat near the back, some of his familiar fury leaking out.

“Well, it’s kind of telling that we’ve only known you for like, a week, and we already know your personality is flaming garbage.” Kaminari continues, apparently unaware that the shadow of death now looms over him. 

Never in his life did Izuku think he would live to see the day that Bakugou, of all people, would be made fun of. His head was spinning.

“Why you!- How dare-!” Bakugou chokes himself off, turning red in the face as he tries to maintain his restraint. Izuku wonders when he had started trying to reign himself in. Why did he even bother?

“Everyone stop messing around, we’re here,” Aizawa announces, looking equal parts bored and annoyed. 

Iuku breathes a sigh of relief, glad for the excuse to remove himself from his classmate’s scrutiny. He’s glad to be able to go back to doing something as normal as training. He melts back into the background, hoping this time he’ll get to stay there.

---

There are a number of correct ways to enter the water from ten meters above the surface, but judging by the way the air is forced from Izuku’s lungs as he impacts the surface, he has not exercised any of them successfully. 

The water is cold as it closes around him, his scars already beginning to faintly glow as panic settles into his body. The water muffles the screams that he knows still echo above the surface. Everything had gone wrong so fast. They had never stood a chance. 

He forces his limbs to move, ignoring the ache that seems to have settled into his bones, pushing himself up toward the surface. A flash of movement to his right catches his attention. A villain with some sort of shark quirk emerges swiftly from the blue, moving toward him with impossible speed. There’s no way he could manage to dodge in time. He closes his eyes and waits for the impact, hoping he’ll have enough time to fight back before the damage is too severe.

He’s yanked out of the water with a gasp, sucking in a moment too early so his lungs are filled with a burning mix of water and air. He’s dropped on a hard surface, but he can’t regain his bearings while he’s coughing his lungs up.

“Are you okay, Midoriya?” Tsuyu asks, kneeling down beside him. Oh thank God, he’s got allies. 

“Uh, guys, you need to come see this.” Sero is here, too. Good, the more of them there are, the better their chances will be.

“I’m okay,” Izuku croaks, finally managing to speak through the coughing. He can still feel some dredges of water in the bottoms of his lungs, but he can breathe around it, so he tries to stop coughing long enough to speak, “Thanks Tsuyu. What’s the situation?”

“Call me Tsu, it looks like we were scattered around the USJ. Right now we’re surrounded in the shipwreck area. The villains all have some kind of water quirk from the looks of it.”

Izuku forces himself up to his feet, peering over the deck to see what she’s looking at. Sure enough, villains with various water-based quirks are gathered below, watching them. Strangely, none of them move forward.

“They’re just… watching?” Sero mutters.

“That’s good. This is good,” Sero gives him a confused look, but Izuku continues, “They don’t want to rush in because they don’t know our quirks. If they had known then they wouldn’t have sent Tsuyu-”

“Tsu.” Tsuyu corrects.

“They wouldn't have sent Tsu to the shipwreck zone. She’s well within her element here.”

“Okay, so they don’t know our quirks, that’s good, but they won’t hold back forever. My quirk isn’t suited to this environment like Tsu’s”

“You’re right, we’ll have to-” The ship is rocked to the side sharply as one of the villains launches an attack, the hull creaking, the roar of water pouring in echoing up from the lower decks.

“Move up, keep out of the water!” Izuku grabs Sero’s arm, dragging him after himself as he follows Tsu’s lead to the highest point of the ship, ignoring the way the whole structure tilts nauseatingly. 

“Oh God, oh shit , what do we do?” Sero is freaking out.

“Hey, snap out of it!” Izuku smacks him gently in the back of the head to force him back to the present, “We have the advantage here. They don’t know what we’re capable of, so they don’t know what we can and cannot do.”

“Do you have a plan, Midoriya?” Tsu asks, still watching the villains as they seem to grow more agitated. 

“Enough of one,” Izuku answers, this will be tricky. The risk of failure is high, but it’s their only real chance, “Tsu, Sero, how long can your tongue and tape stretch, respectively?”

“I can get up to twenty meters, kero.”

“I can go as high as a hundred meters for one strand, but the more of it there is, the less control I have, typically.”

“Okay, that will work. It looks to be about eighty meters to shore. If Sero can output sixty and Tsu can output her twenty, then that will be enough. As long as you two are attached, we only have to worry about getting one of you to shore. Since Tsu is so fast in the water, it will be best to send her. From there, she can retract her tongue and you can retract your tape and you should be able to get across without too much issue, just make sure you start high so that you don’t end up falling into the water before you get across.”

“Okay, two issues. One, how would we get you across? And two, how is Tsu supposed to get past the villains on her own?”

“I’ll take care of the villains. It’s like Kirishima said, I have a flashy quirk. They’ve never seen it before, so even if I don’t deal a lot of damage, I can scare them off. If I can’t scare them off, at least I’ll have their attention and Tsu will be able to pass without issue.”

“Okay, but we’re not leaving you.” Sero objects. Izuku takes a deep breath. Right, he’s in a hero course. They have morals and shit.

“He’s right, kero, we won’t let you take the fall.” Tsu agrees. If Izuku weren’t so stressed he would be touched.

“It’ll be okay, once Tsu is across it will be too late for the villains to do anything. Just grab me with your tape as you go across and we’ll all get to shore just fine.” Izuku amends.

“That’s risky,” Sero points out, “If I miss, you would be left behind.”

“Then don’t miss,” Izuku says flatly. It’s their best chance. Their only chance. 

“Okay- okay fine.” Sero finally agrees. 

“Good, on three we’ll start. Once the villains have created an opening, go ahead and link your tape and tongue so that Tsu can get across. If she looks like she’s in danger, reel her back in and we’ll regroup. Watch her back.”

Sero nods.

“One,” Izuku takes a breath, allowing his quirk to flood his veins.

“Two,” His muscles tense, his scars already glowing. He pushes as much of it up as he can, tiny arcs crackling across his skin. He takes off the gloves, letting them drop to the deck of the boat. He hopes he won’t end up regretting that.

“THREE!” He jumps over the railing, trusting Sero and Tsu to keep each other safe. 

He’s falling.

He tries not to think about the fact that he’s falling. 

With a scream, he unleashes the power that builds along his scars, his antlers buzzing as they grow to accommodate the power. Arcs of power, larger than he’s ever been able to produce, stream through the water as he approaches the surface. He slams out a hand, his quirk obeying as it had during the entrance exam, a force field forming beneath him, keeping him shielded from the water. 

He screams again, this time his voice splitting as it had so many times before. Something vaguely nightmarish pouring out of him. His scars burn like a brand against his skin, but he grits his teeth and redoubles his attack, the arcs growing larger, reaching father. 

The villains scream and Izuku lets his aura release, a feeling of overwhelming panic and dread spreading like poison gas from him. He can feel his energy waning fast, but he holds out, ignoring the scars on his hand that have already started to split again. 

Before he can start screaming again he’s yanked into the air, Sero racing towards shore above him. Izuku’s force-field moves with him, skidding along the surface of the water as Sero and Tsu pull him back from the villains. 

Izuku stumbles as he hits the shore, his quirk flickering out, his right hand dripping blood from where it had begun to open. He hisses and presses it against his chest, mentally taking stock of his first aid supplies. He’s not sure that he has anything for this. He could just wrap it.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Sero cheers, “How the hell did you do that, Midoriya? You took them all out!”

“I- what?” Izuku looks behind him, and sure enough, half the villains can’t be seen, and of those he can still see, they’re floating unconscious in the water. Holy shit. He did that?

His knees give out, a sudden wave of pain and dizziness pounding through his skull. Shit, he overdid it. He really overdid it.

“Midoriya, are you okay, kero?” Tsu asks, exchanging a worried look with Sero, “Is your hand bleeding?”

“Yeah,” Izuku takes deep breaths, trying to wait out the pain. They still need to find the others. They need to figure out what’s going on and get help, “Don’t worry about it, it’s normal. I’ll be okay, I’m just dizzy. Can you guys see any of the others?”

Tsu gives him a mildly horrified look, but looks away to scan their surroundings. A loud crash sounds from somewhere on the other side of the low wall on the shore, but Izuku can’t see over it from his kneeling position. Tsu turns to look, and her face goes white.

“Oh no,” She whispers.

“What is it?” Izuku struggles to his feet.

“Oh my God,” Sero turns as well.

Izuku finally manages to get to his feet, and suddenly he understands. 

A huge, hulking black monster throws the unmistakable form of their teacher into the ground, crushing his head against the pavement. Izuku can hear the crunch of breaking bones.  Izuku feels sick, his stomach dropping like a stone.

“No,” He breathes, his quirk once again flooding his aching body, “No, no no no-”

“Midoriya?” Tsu backs up as Izuku’s skin once again dances with arcs of power. They jump from his form, lashing out around him. 

“Go find the others,” Izuku readies himself to charge.

“No, Midoriya, you can’t possibly go up against that thing.”

“I can’t just watch, either,” Izuku spits back, “Go and help the others, I’ll just distract them enough to lead them away from Aizawa. Once it’s safe and you guys have enough people to protect each other, I need you to get him out of there.”

“Midoriya-” Tsu starts, but Izuku cuts her off.

“ Please , Tsu, get him out of there, okay?” Izuku doesn’t wait for her answer, he jumps the wall, moving impossibly fast toward the creature trying to kill his teacher. The strange man with the hands all over his body smiles at Izuku’s approach, but Izuku ignores him, releasing choking waves of dread and fear, connecting an arcing kick to the side of the creature. It jerks from the energy, but it doesn’t budge otherwise.

“Well, well, well!” The man with the hands sounds gleeful as he approaches. The creature makes no move to fend off Izuku’s attacks. Something is wrong here, “If it isn’t UAs resident ghost! I’m a little surprised to see you in the flesh. I thought you would be taller by now.”

Izuku growls low in his throat, lunging toward him instead. He seems to be the leader, so he’s probably the master of that thing. If he can get him to change the attack orders from Aizawa to himself he’ll be able to lead them away. He can buy Aizawa time. 

Pain. Pain, like he’s never known, erupts from his forearm where the man had caught his blow. Just as quickly as it begins it suddenly stops. Izuku doesn't dare look at the damage as the man takes his hand away with a huff.

“Damn, Eraserhead, you really are cool,” He sneers at Aizawa. 

So it’s his quirk. Aizawa was still conscious and he managed to erase this guy’s quirk. Well, that means-

Izuku surges forward, an explosion of light emitting from his skin, his antlers creaking as they grow once again. His right hand slams into the man’s chest, catching him off-guard. His quirk lashes out, catching on something within the man and pulling harder than it ever has before, an aura of blood-curdling malice thickening the air around them. 

Izuku screams, yanking at his connection to the man until he feels something break. Energy arcs from his bleeding hand making the man convulse, his bloodied hand leaving a red handprint on his shirt.

The man collapses, gasping, on the ground. 

“Nomu,” He rasps, “Kill him, Nomu.”

Ah, so that’s the thing’s name. Izuku immediately runs in the opposite direction of Aizawa, hoping that the creature would be slow due to its size.

It was most definitely not slow for its size.

Before he can process what’s happening he’s being slammed into the ground so hard that his vision turns white, a series of pops and cracks erupting in his chest, his ankle crushed in the Nomu’s grip. 

He’s thrown back toward a wall that isn’t there anymore, scraping across the floor, one of his legs falling over the edge, dangling into the nothingness. It’s so loud. It’s so, so loud. It hurts. It burns.

No, shut up, dammit. He’s here, he’s in danger, he needs to think.

The cool metal of the railing leaches the warmth from his shaking hands. He takes a breath, another, the air is sweet. 

No, no no no no! Not now! He can’t do this now! Think, dammit!

His vision slowly comes back to him, the shadow of the hulking beast staring down at him. Its beaked face is expressionless, its eyes are empty. 

What can he do against this thing? His attack hadn’t even bothered it before. There’s only so much else he could do. He shifts just barely, ignoring the aching numbness blooming in his right shoulder.  

The creature bends down to grab him again and Izuku takes advantage, grabbing onto the creature with both hands. His quirk lashes out, trying to hook into something within the Nomu. 

It doesn’t feel right. There’s no unified core, just weak fragments gathered within it, nothing substantial for Izuku to tear at. Dammit, plan B, then.

Izuku gathers up as much of his quirk as he can, ignoring the burning, stinging sensation of his scars reopening. He screams, releasing the largest wave of his quirk that he’s managed yet, energy sparking around the Nomu’s form. It freezes and then begins to seize, nearly falling.

Izuku’s vision is beginning to fade. He knows he can’t hold this for much longer. A flash of movement behind the Nomu catches his eye. A flash of red and green. Kirishima and Tsu have gotten Mr. Aizawa out of there. Good, he just needs to give them a few more seconds to get away safely. He feels one of his teeth crack from how hard he’s gritting them. With a final push, he allows his quirk to surge with everything he has, enveloping the Nomu in white-hot lightning.  

He feels the flickering before he sees it. His quirk finally fails, the light that had been covering the monster disappearing completely. Smoke rises from its form, but it still doesn’t fall. It blinks, and Izuku nearly cries.

He’s given everything he has, and still, it wasn’t enough. He’s too weak. 

The Nomu shuffles closer to him, raising a fist. Izuku lets his eyes fall closed, hoping that his friends are far enough away that they won’t have to see this. 

“I AM HERE!” 

Izuku can’t tell whether he’s imagined it or not. He can’t open his eyes, and his thoughts are being swallowed by blackness, but the smallest smile forms on his face. For the first time in a long time, he’s happy to hear that. 

He let’s go.

Chapter Text

Rain pummels the sidewalks, water overflowing the storm drains and gutters, leaving an almost ankle-deep layer of dirty water over everything. Shinsou wipes the rain out of his eyes yet again, sloshing forward onto the next street. He can hardly hear anything with the sound of the wind and rain roaring around him, but the clang of a struggle rises sharply through the dull roar. He follows it like a lighthouse, not sure if he’d find friend or foe on the other side. 

When he comes to the head of the alleyway it’s filled with a group of dark shadows, all moving rapidly in all directions. In the center of the chaos a single figure stands still, the translucent shadow above them thrashing in time with the other shadows. The still figure turns and Shinsou is able to catch sight of a familiar profile. Tokoyami has already engaged the villains.

“Hey!” He yells, waving one hand in the air and making a ‘shush’ motion with the other, hoping Tokoyami will catch on to what he’s trying to do, “Who are those clowns jumping around you, Tokoyami?”

As expected, Tokoyami immediately understands, giving him the slightest nod as some of the villains shout back in indignation.

“Hey, who the FUCK are you!?” A burly guy with some kind of strength enhancing quirk yells. 

Shinsou takes hold of him just as another starts to answer.

“Who you callin-!” Shinsou grabs this one faster. It’s a woman with some kind of snake-like quirk. She goes stiff in her crouched position on an outcropping above the alley.

“How dare-!” Some guy in a suit starts, face crinkled in a mixture of disgust and indignation. He’s the easiest to snag out of all of them, freezing with one hand still raised to his chest from his position between Shinsou and Tokoyami.

Unfortunately, two other villains fail to respond, and Shinsou has just made himself a very clear target. 

A woman with a lithe, almost catlike form jumps down from atop one of the buildings, steely, razor sharp claws barred and ready to tear into Shinsou’s flesh. Instinctually, Shinsou freezes, holding his breath and closing his eyes as he waits for the hit to land. 

It never does. 

With a screech and whap Dark Shadow knocks the woman to the ground as though it were something as simple as spiking a volleyball. The woman hits the ground hard and doesn’t move. 

“Hah!” Dark Shadow croaks, “The bird gets the cat today!”

“Dark Shadow, our right!” Tokoyami calls back, squaring up with the spotted man that charges them. He strikes with a staff, anding a hit across Tokoyami’s face before dark shadow manages to throw the man back toward one of the alley walls, where he connects with a sickening crack. 

Shinsou really hopes they didn’t just murder two people.

“Shinsou!” Tokoyami forces himself up from the ground where he had fallen, one hand holding pressure to the gash that had been slashed just above his beak, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Shinsou makes his way over quickly, scanning his classmate for any other injuries. Other than a slight limp in his left leg, the other boy seems fine. Shinsou breathes a shallow sigh of relief, “How are you holding up?”

“Just peachy!” Dark Shadow crows with glee. 

Shinsou gets the feeling that Dark Shadow may not share his distaste for excessive violence. He’s suddenly very glad that he’s on their side. 

“We’re alright, just shaken up.” Tokoyami responds, checking his hand as the bleeding slows on his gash, the rain quickly washing away the blood as fast as it can drip out. 

“Good, good,” Shinsou nods, looking past him at the villains he had frozen, a slight pressure beginning to form behind his eyes from the strain of holding three people all at once, while they’re all experiencing some level of pain and discomfort. Pain always makes it so much harder to maintain control, “What do you want me to do with the last three?” 

“Oh,” Tokoyami turns to the frozen forms, “Can you knock them out?”

“Uh,” To be honest, Shinsou had never thought to try, which seems stupid now that he thinks about it, “I can try, just keep Dark Shadow on standby if it doesn’t work.”

Tokoyami nods, turning to watch Shinsou’s quirk in action against the villains. 

“Lay down on your back,” Shinsou starts, watching as two of them lay in dirty sluggish water flowing through the street, faces up so they won’t drown. However, the one that had been crouching simply rolls over, immediately falling off of her platform and crashing to the street below. Shinsou feels a sharp tug on his quirk before it disconnects from her. He holds his breath, but lets it out as he realizes that she must have managed to knock herself out with the fall, “Fall asleep and do not wake up for two hours.”

Tentatively, Shinsou releases his quirk from immediate control. Sure enough, the villains stay down. Tokoyami lets out a low whistle. 

“That went surprisingly smoothly.” He remarks with a hint of amusement.

“Well, you put in all the muscle. Thanks man.”

Tokoyami only nods, accepting the compliment, “Do you know anything about the situation so far?  You’re the only other person I’ve seen from our class.”

“I haven’t seen anything else. Whatever quirk that misty guy had must have scattered us around the USJ so we’d be easier to pick off. The weirdo with the hands said something about killing All Might, but with low level thugs like these, they have no chance. It looks like our best bet now is to get out of this area and try to regroup with the others.”

“I agree, there must be something more to this. We’re stronger with numbers,” He squints through the rain at the ceiling, “Based on the way the dome is sloping, the middle of the USJ is that way,” He points the Shinsou had come from, “If we make it there out of here and move that way we’ll have better chances of finding some of our classmates.”

“Good thinking,” Shinsou blushes a little at the fact that he hadn’t thought to use the ceiling to orient himself, but falls into step beside Tokoyami as they make their way out of the storm zone, Dark Shadow hovering above them, keeping watch on all sides for threats. 

---

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that would greet them when they finally managed to escape the storm zone, having dispatched three more villains on their way out. Blood seeps into his eyes from a shallow gash across his forehead where a villain's sharp claws had grazed him. It stung, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He almost convinces himself that its the blood in his vision that makes the scene so grotesque at first, but as they grow closer, Shinsou’s stomach sinks like a stone. 

Tsuyu, Kirishima, and Sero stumble their way up the stairs from the basin of the USJ, carrying the bloodied and broken body of Earaserhead between them. They look tired, hollowed out, none of them free from some scrape or bruise.

“What the hell happened?” Shinsou rushes forward, torn between wanting to know exactly how bad their teacher’s injuries are and the overwhelming urge to look away and spare his peace of mind.

“They have some kind of creature with them, kero,” Tsuyu croaks, adjusting her hold on the shoddy makeshift stretcher they had managed to make from Sero’s tape, “It was too powerful for Aizawa to take on alone. Midoriya created a distraction so we could get him out of there. Bakugo just ran down to try and help.”

Shinsou’s world tilts on it’s axis.

“Izuku was with you?” he breathes, his heart seizes in his chest as the commotion from the basin below them grows ever louder, flashes of light sparking from the fight. Familiar flashes of light, “You left him down there!?”

“Sensei is dying, Shinsou, we didn’t have a choice. We don’t like it anymore than you do!” Sero looks angry, but Shinsou couldn’t give less of a shit. 

“You left him down there, with Bakugo of all people?!” Shinsou knows he shouldn’t be yelling at them, but he’s panicking. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. 

Before anyone can answer, there’s an explosion of white light below them, the smell of ozone reaching them even from where they stand so high above the fight. Shinsou chokes in a gasp. The light continues, flickering for a moment before it grows even brighter, a nearly inhuman scream accompanying the lightning that wraps around a dark form like a thousand writhing serpents. 

All at once, the light dies. There is stillness for a moment, and then the dark hulking figure shifts, pulling back a fist the size of a small car. 

Shinsou manages to fill his lungs to scream, but he’s cut off when the front doors of the USJ burst open, the familiar figure of All Might exploding into the building.

“I AM HERE!”

Shinsou’s relief is palpable, the bubble of hope forming once again in his chest. 

All Might's form disappears from the top of the stairs, reappearing as a blur of red, blue, and yellow as he engages with the dark figure that had been hovering over the body of his friend. 

“Thank God,” Kirishima sounds as though he’s on the verge of tears, “The teachers found us. Come on guys, let's get him out of here.” 

Kirishima moves to start back up the stairs, leading the small party carrying their unconscious teacher. Shinsou takes his chance. If All Might is distracting the villain, then he can do the same thing for Izuku that his classmates had done for their teacher. He can get him out of there.

Shinsou charges down the steps, but he’s held back as something nearly-solid slams into him, forcing him back. 

“Shinsou, what are you thinking?” Tokoyami calls to him, Dark Shadow still curls around his shoulders and chest, holding him back. 

“He’s down there!” Shinsou chokes out, “Someone needs to get him out of there! He could- he could be-”

“He’ll be okay, All Might is down there, he couldn’t be in better hands. We need to get to the exit so the pros can do their jobs.” Tokoyami’s voice is steady. He knows what he’s talking about, and Shinsou knows that he’s right, but his instincts tell him that Izuku needs him. 

A loud crash sounds below. Smoke obscures the scene, only the occasional movement, shout, or explosive impact telling them what the fight was happening at all. Shinsou can’t see Izuku’s distant gray form anymore.

“Come on, Shinsou, we have to go!” Tokoyami pulls on him with Dark Shadow, and Shinsou finally complies, shaking as he turns away, feeling for all the world that he’s abandoning Izuku.

They make it halfway to the top of the stairs before an explosion sounds behind them, a wave of air pressure causing them to stumble. A crash sounds as the dark figure is launched through the domed ceiling of the USJ. 

Shinsou watches with wide eyes as the smoke starts to dissipate. Just one second more and he should be able to pick Izuku’s form out of the rubble.

A wall rises up, blocking their view of the USJ center floor, cementoss and the other teachers rushing in and taking their positions all across the building. Shots begin to ring out and Shinsou’s throat starts to burn with bile. This was real. This was all real.

Shock settles in quickly. Apparently the other had kept moving, because the next thing he knows, he’s alone on the stairs, Midnight helping him back up and leading him toward the exit. When had he sat down?

He watches his surroundings as though they were behind glass.

As Midnight leads him out, they pass Uraraka, Jirou, and Momo, who all gather around the fallen form of 13. Uraraka looks up and says something to him, but he doesn’t hear it. He wants to go to her, but his body just keeps following Midnight.

The sunlight seems unnatural after the smoky dimness of the USJ. It seems wrong that such a beautiful day could hold such horror.

At some point, Midnight leaves, likely going back in the building to gather more students. Paramedics swarm around the entrance, but none of them dare approach Shinsou after he had snarled at the first one for trying to touch him. He didn’t want anyone to touch him right now.

Aizawa is transferred to a proper stretcher and taken away. Next, 13 is carried out, Uraraka, Jirou, and Momo following after, their faces tear streaked, scraped, and bruised. Slowly, more of his classmates emerge from the dark entrance of the USJ.

Kaminari.

Koda.

Shoji.

Every disturbance of the still shadows gathered by the entrance is a chance that it could be Izuku. He’ll be the next one out, he’s sure of it. He’ll walk out, scraped and tired, but okay, and he’ll give Shinsou a smile and he’ll be okay.

Hagakure (or, well, her uniform).

Ojiro.

Sato.

There’s no way he lost. He’s probably just getting scolded by one of the teachers. It’s an awful lot of stairs to climb, maybe he had an injured leg?

Aoyama.

Shoto.

Mina.

Bakugo is still in there. Maybe he’s causing a ruckus and they’re trying to calm him down. Hopefully Izuku isn’t caught in the crossfire.

Bakugo, escorted by cementoss, both their faces grim, Bakugo’s hollow and shaken.

Bakugo is never shaken.

Shinsou’s breath shakes. It’s coming fast. Faster than it should. He has to calm down. He needs to keep it together. It’s all okay. They won. They won.

At first, he doesn't recognize the figure as Izuku. They carry him out on a stretcher, Paramedics rushing alongside him as he’s taken away. Blood. So much blood that it obscures the white of his hair, the gray of his suit. More blood than Shinsou has ever seen.

He doesn’t know his legs are moving until a Paramedic holds him back, yelling something about not being able to follow. That they need to get him out as quickly as possible. 

Izuku’s body is taken away, loaded into an ambulance. The doors shut, and Shinsou feels as though someone has severed a limb from him. 

The vehicle takes off with incredible speed. The paramedic in front of him is speaking, reaching forward to place a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder. Shinsou slaps the hand away as though it could burn him, staring after the red and blue lights that fade so quickly down the road.

He blinks and he’s facing a different direction. Uraraka stands in front of him, speaking as well though her tears. She holds him by the shoulders, but her touch doesn’t feel wrong. It’s warm. 

Shinsou surges forward, catching her in a crushing embrace. She freezes for a moment, then holds him back.

Shinsou holds onto her like an anchor in a storm, and he shatters.

---

The fight is easy. 

Far, far too easy.

The nomu puts up some resistance, even managing to get a couple of hits in against him, but Toshinori is able to overwhelm the creature with relative ease, even in his weakened state. 

It isn’t until the beast is dispatched that he notices the bloody figure on the ground, a familiar pair of antlers making his chest seize. Shigaraki stands over the body, but he doesn’t move, only staring down, almost lost.

“Your plan failed.” All Might boasts to him, forcing some false bravado into his voice, “You will pay for your actions!”

Still, Shigaraki doesn’t move. All Might doesn’t move either. The steam rising from his skin reminds him that he’s far surpassed his limits today. Anything more could push him over the edge. 

“Master” The shadowy figure of the teleportation villain appears beside Shigaraki, “We must retreat.”

“Retreat.” Shigaraki repeats, though it doesn’t quite sound like a command. 

A wall raises beside him as a series of shots ring out, black mist swirling around Shigaraki’s now prone and bleeding form. All Might rushes forward, but he’s too late. By the time he reaches them, Shigaraki and Kurogiri have disappeared.

All Might approaches the figure of his student slowly. His muscular form fades away, and he lets it, knowing that he did not have the luxury of secrets when it came to Izuku Midoriya. 

He kneels beside the boy, shaking his shoulder and desperately hoping that he wasn’t too late. 

Izuku does not move.

Ignoring the blood that now coats his hands, slippery and cold, Toshinori takes the boy’s pulse, nearly crying with relief as he feels the sluggish movement beneath the boy’s skin. He hadn’t failed. Not completely, anyway. 

Recovery Girl wordlessly pulls him away, shielding him from the view of the paramedics that rush to Izuku’s body. All Might wonders why she isn’t rushing to him as well, but he bites his tongue, trusting her judgment. 

His head feels as though it’s full of cotton, the emotions of the past few minutes finally draining out of him. He reaches up to brush the hair out of his face, but pauses when his hand leaves something sticky across his forehead. 

All Might stares down at his hands, frowning at the sight of Izuku Midoriya’s blood. 

---

His ward is in pitiful condition when Kurogiri finally returns him. The boy’s plan had been a complete bust, all thanks to one singular, white-haired chaos factor. All For One smiles as the boy’s memories play through his mind.

A soul-based quirk. 

They’re rare, and he only came across one this powerful once or twice a generation. If Tomura’s memories are to be trusted, the boy has power beyond belief for his novice state. The skill with which he had engaged them, the incredible composure with which he had faced the Nomu, it was all rather impressive, especially considering the child’s instability.

All For One pulls another memory out, examining it as he pieces Tomura back together, reburying all the pesky things Izuku’s quirk had unearthed in his successor. The boy’s quirk was powerful, but so was he.

It takes him hours to re-fuse the pieces of his protege’s mind and soul that had been displaced. Apparently, their subject of interest was one of the top of his class, beloved by his fellow students and teachers. They must be so proud.

Shigaraki will heal from this, never knowing the true extent of what Izuku’s quirk could have done to him. He will go on to complete his missions, of course, but when he wakes he will have an idea. An idea that he will believe is all his own.

He will know just how much power resides in the secrets of Izuku Midoriya, and he will use that to crush them all. Shigaraki will shatter Midoriya as Midoriya had shattered him.

Vengeance will be sweet.

Chapter Text

The first thing Izuku notices is that it’s bright. Impossibly bright. His eyes, surprisingly, don’t hurt though. He looks around, but nothing makes sense. There’s just a void of light.

“Am I dead?” His voice feels small in the great expanse. There’s no echo.

No. Nearly, but no.

The voice seems to come from inside his head. The light in front of him shifts, amalgamating into a more concentrated shape. Izuku can make out the blurry outline of what seems to be a person.

“Who are you?” He knows this voice, this presence. It had been there when he fell.

I am you. We are us.

“I’m you?” If Izuku could feel his head he’s sure it would be hurting.

Yes, exactly. I am yourself from the higher plane. Your soul.

Ah, so either he’s going insane or Uraraka was right. It seems that his quirk really does have something to do with his soul.

“Okay, well, I have questions,” Izuku feels weird, like the feeling you get when you’re speaking to yourself in a mirror and your mind can’t quite connect the face that’s talking and your own sense of what and who you are. It’s disconcerting, but not unfamiliar, “What exactly is a soul? Like a ghost?”

Yes and no. I am your 5th dimensional existence. I am the you that exists outside of time and space as you know it. I exist simultaneously at every moment of your life, including those that haven’t happened yet.

“So you know our future? You know if I’m doing the right thing?”

Again, yes and no. I have seen every single possible path you could take, but there’s no way of knowing what you will actually end up doing. Every second you are alive, every choice and action you make, solidifies some piece of your fate, and I am spread over less and less timelines. Essentially, I am not fully formed, and I will not be until you have made every action and decision you ever will.

“So, you keep forming and solidifying until I die?”

Until you reach your finality, yes. At that point, we will be fully joined, and our mind and soul will be a single, solid entity. You form your soul as you live. You become yourself in your entirety, and you aren’t done until you’re done. 

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain my quirk. How can I even be talking to you right now?”

You met the criteria for your quirk to develop only barely. It was very nearly the end of development for me, I could feel the timelines closing off. However, before I could join with you, your quirk activated, joining us partially. Your quirk is Soul Conduit. You can harness the powers of your own soul, and interact soul to soul with others.

“Wait, so you can shoot lightning and stuff?”

Yes and no. A soul is the single most powerful thing in the cosmos. Each one is an entire self-contained reality. You are a conduit for 5th dimensional energies in your 4th plane. Of course, your body wasn’t designed to even be capable of interacting with the 5th dimension, so it only makes sense that channeling this power is so difficult for you. I doubt any quirk, no matter how powerful, could disobey the laws of the universe without some form of consequence. Your quirk makes you a bridge between the world you belong in, and the higher planes that no living, forming soul, should be able to see. To answer your question though, I cannot shoot lightning, we , however, can.

“So I’m my soul possessing my own body.”

Yes.

“I have so many questions-”

You can’t stay here.

“What?”

We can’t be close to joining like this for too long. It’s dangerous. You need to wake up.

“Wake up?”

Wake up. Rise. Become. Be.

---

When Izuku wakes up, the first thing he notices is that his throat is painfully dry. He swallows, but it only aggravates the scratchiness, so he gives up.

He’s in a hospital. That much is obvious from the fluorescent lights and tiled ceiling. The scent of antiseptic is heavy in the room, but not to the point of being overwhelming. He turns, body feeling as though it’s weighed down by sandbags, and catches a glimpse of himself in the darkened window on the wall beside him. 

The first thing he notices is that he looks like absolute shit. The shadows under his eyes aren’t shadows anymore. They’re dark purple bruises, fading to green and yellow along the edges. Bandages cover the right half of his face, disappearing down his neck and below his hospital gown. He can’t see his scars, and for the first time, that bothers him. He wants to know how bad the damage is. 

His antlers. 

They are much longer now, curling up above his hair, an additional two points on either side. Sure, they had been a bit noticeable before, but now? His classmates will definitely stare. He doesn’t even want to think about how much stuff they’re going to get caught on. Putting on a t-shirt is going to be a pain in the ass. Thankfully the UA uniforms are button ups, but still.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Recovery Girl enters the room, clipboard in hand. It’s a little strange to see her outside of her own infirmary, but chances are UA wanted her to oversee the injuries received at the USJ.

“Yhhg-” Izuku tries to speak, but it gets caught in his throat, coming out like a hoarse honk.

Recovery Girl chuckles at the sound, disappearing from his view for a moment. She comes back with a glass of water that Izuku takes gratefully, forcing himself into a semi-upright position. His ribs feel bruised, but nothing seems to move around that shouldn’t be, so he’s probably at least mostly healed. The water is the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he’s downed the whole glass before he can stop himself.

“Better?” Recovery Girl asks, taking the cup and setting it back on the tray that Izuku can now see resting beside his bed. 

“Yeah, much better,” His voice sounds like gravel, but it’s worlds better than it had been, so he decides he’ll take what he can get. 

“Good, because I have a lot of questions for you, young man.” She gives him a small glare, pulling out her clipboard. Izuku does his best not to heave a sigh. Of course they would have questions. 

“First, why didn’t you tell me you had lingering symptoms from your fight with Bakugo?”

“What?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. What is she talking about?

“Judging by the damage, you have been experiencing headaches, dizziness, disorientation, irritability, insomnia, and severe anxiety attacks. Does any of that sound familiar?”

Izuku pales a little. He knew he wasn’t doing too hot lately, but he had thought that was all normal.

“Yeah, but I thought that was all normal for a concussion.”

“Midoriya, it is not normal for those symptoms to persist more than a day or two at most after I’ve healed you. If I had known-” She cuts herself off, taking a steadying breath, “You shouldn’t have even been on that field trip. You should never have had the opportunity to get into this situation!”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku squeaks, not sure if she’s mad at him or someone else, or the situation itself.

“It’s- well- it’s not fine. You need to be honest about what you’re struggling with, Midoriya. Your teachers and I need to know so that we can keep you safe. If you feel like something is wrong, even if it’s something small, you need to tell us.”

Izuku nods sheepishly. She’s right, of course, but he’s always had trouble trusting people, especially teachers. He can’t just flip a switch and suddenly start trusting people again. Recovery Girl sighs and continues.

“It’s called Post-Concussion Syndrome, Midoriya, it’s the result of brain damage.”

Izuku feels a pang of fear at those words. Brain damage is serious. Brain damage is irreversible and unpredictable. 

“Unfortunately, you hadn’t been healed as we thought, so when the Nomu attacked you at the USJ and you sustained a second concussion, the damage compounded. Along with the stress and swelling induced from your quirk overuse, it took emergency paramedics a while to get the pressure in your skull to go down, even with the minor healing quirks of the triage receiving staff. Long story short, it wasn’t looking too good for a while there. We were able to salvage quite a bit, and your body is almost completely healed, thanks to some additive healing quirks from a couple of surgeons, but we don’t actually know how much damage you may have sustained. Evidently, you’re awake, aware, and talking, so we know the damage can’t be that severe, but we won’t be able to gauge the extent of the effects until you’ve been up and about for a while. I’ll need you to take notes on any symptoms you experience in the next few weeks.”

“Does this mean I won’t be able to train?”

Recovery Girl takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as though she were trying to stave off a headache. She probably is.

“Once you are fully healed you will be able to train. Whatever damage you still have at this point is permanent, there’s nothing that can be done to correct it because your brain will have healed around it. However, I implore you to be careful not to overuse your quirk so severely, it can cause swelling of the brain, and if that is severe enough you could have an aneurysm and I won’t be able to save you.”

“Understood.” Izuku leans back against his pillows, letting her words sink in. He’s sustained some form of brain damage, but they don’t know what was affected yet. If he overuses his quirk again, he may die, and Recovery Girl will be helpless to help him. God, what a mess he had made. 

“Izuku!” He jolts up at her voice, his mother standing at the door with an expression somewhere between relief and horror. 

“Mom,” He breathes, both glad she’s here, and wishing she didn’t have to see him like this. 

She surges forward, capturing him in a crushing embrace that makes his ribs ache a bit, but he holds her back just as tight, to reassure her that he’s okay. She cards a hand through his hair, stopping at his antlers and pulling back. She wipes the tears from her eyes with a smile.

“They’ve grown,” She runs a hand along the base of one, “It suits you.”

He knows she’s trying to make him feel better, and he appreciates it, but he can’t help the voice within him that disagrees. 

“Ma’am,” Recovery Girl interrupts before Izuku gets the chance to respond, but he doesn’t mind in the least. He isn’t sure what he could say, “Would you mind stepping out with me for a moment to go over your son’s file?”

“Yeah, that would be fine.” She gives him one last squeeze before following Recovery Girl into the hall, passing Shinsou who had slipped in silently behind his mom. Shinsou stands with a blank expression by the door, a thin pink scar running across his forehead.

Izuku can’t tell what he’s thinking. Shinsou makes no move, just keeps staring at him with that lost look in his eyes. His chest aches in response.

“Hitoshi?” Izuku’s voice sounds rough.

Shinsou’s expression doesn’t change. He steps forward until he’s standing directly beside Izuku’s bed. His hands, gentler than Izuku has ever seen them, reach out, cupping Izuku’s face. Shinsou collapses in the chair beside his bed, closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. Breathing deeply, as though trying to keep himself under control.

Izuku blushes at the closeness, but pushes his embarrassment aside. Why isn’t Shinsou speaking?

“Hitoshi?” He asks again, softer this time, “Are you okay?”

Shinsou doesn’t make any show that he’s heard him until Izuku realizes that his shoulders are shaking, his breath hitching. Still, he holds Izuku’s head to his own, one of his thumbs stroking Izuku’s cheek, his touch feather-light. 

“Hito-” Before Izuku can finish the word, Hitoshi’s face crumbles, tears he had been desperately holding back spilling down his cheeks and dropping to the linoleum tiles below them. He opens his eyes and Izuku gasps softly at the look of absolute devastation swirling in his gaze. 

“I thought-” Shinsou’s voice sounds like gravel, catching on the sobs that roll through him like waves. Izuku reaches up, putting his own, bandaged hand over Shinsou’s, returning the gentle touch, “I thought I lost you.”

“No, no Hitoshi, I’m here, I’m okay.” Izuku feels tears of his own forming as he realizes what he’s done to Shinsou.

“They took you out-” Shinsou chokes again, the words sticking in his throat, “They took you out on a stretcher-”

He sobs, pulling Izuku closer so he now held him by the shoulders, hiding his face in the crook of Izuku’s neck. Every inch of him is trembling.

“I waited- I waited for you to walk out. Everyone else walked out and they wouldn’t let me back in- they- they-” He inhales with a shudder, “There was so much b-blood. You weren’t moving and no one would talk to me and there was so much -”

He cuts off, holding Izuku tighter. Izuku returns it, hugging Shinsou to his chest, desperately wishing he could ease some of his friend’s pain. 

“I’m here,” Izuku whispers into his hair, his own tears now falling freely, “I’m right here, Hitoshi. It’s alright.”

“It’s- it’s not!” Shinsou squeezes him tighter, as though he were afraid someone might try and take Izuku away from him again, “You were- you were hurt! They hurt you and I- I couldn’t do anything. I should have been there! I should have-”

“No.” Izuku interrupts, a steely tone encroaching on his voice, “You did so well, Hitoshi. You did amazingly well. You fought so hard. You’re so strong.”

Shinsou shakes his head, but at this point he’s crying too hard to respond, shaking and gasping for air. Izuku holds him, not sure what else to do. He’s never seen Shinsou this upset and it makes his stomach hurt. To think that he was the cause of this?

It aches more than all the wounds he had ever suffered. 

Shinsou is hurting and it’s all his fault. He had befriended him and made him dependent on him, and in the end all he could do was insult him with the (accidental) threat of abandonment. Izuku feels sick. He has to fix this while there’s still time. He has to make sure this can never happen again.

Shinsou deserves people that will always be able to be there for him. He deserves people that are whole and unbroken. He deserves so much more than Izuku can offer. 

He can fix this. He’ll get stronger. When he gets hurt he’ll be quieter. Shinsou will never have to see it. He’ll be Shinsou’s friend, but he’ll make damn sure he’s not the only one. He’ll help Shinsou grow closer with the others so he can grow more distant to Izuku without ever realizing it. He’ll be protected so that, inevitably, when something like this happens again, it won’t be his entire world that’s at risk, just a part. 

Izuku can’t fix himself, but he can make sure he doesn’t take Shinsou down with him when the time comes. 

Something hollow rings in his chest at the thought of having to pull away, the place in him made up for Shinsou aches at the thought of being even the slightest bit empty. Izuku just closes his eyes a little tighter, breathes in the scent of his very best friend, and tries not to cry at the realization that the thing he needs to protect him from the most, is himself. 

Chapter Text

It’s been two days since he woke up and Izuku is starting to think that if he doesn’t get out of the hospital, he’s going to lose his mind. Test after test after test, they would come in and poke him, or tell him to pee in cups, and he’d had just about enough of it. 

It’s beyond a relief when the nurse announces that he had been cleared to be discharged later today, but he doesn’t have his hopes up for whatever they plan to do to him before he gets out. Shinsou had visited that morning, and as happy as Izuku was to see him, it was a little difficult too. They had talked, played uno, and just generally had a good time, but Izuku doesn’t miss the way Shinsou had looked at him when he thought Izuku couldn’t see. He can’t stand the sadness in that gaze.

In the time since he’s woken up, Shinsou has been by his side, apparently breaking the family-only rule the hospital was enforcing for his guests, but Inko vouched for him, so they allowed it. He’d noticed that Shinsou seemed on edge unless he was touching him in some way. Usually it was a hand on his shoulder, or leaning against him while they sat side-by-side, but Izuku doesn’t miss the way Shinsou seems to get antsy when he’d gone too long without touching Izuku in some way. 

He doesn’t want to think about what that could mean. He really doesn’t. But with nothing else to do, and being banned from screens for his recovery, his thoughts were allowed to run rampant. Shinsu had thought he was dead. He had really thought he was dead and gone, so he can't blame him for wanting the reassurance that comes with feeling Izuku’s skin, still warm with life. Still, that doesn’t stop him from blushing furiously as his mom gives him a look when she catches Shinsou sleeping draped over Izuku’s chest, hugging him in his sleep. They had been sitting on his bed playing cards when Shinsou had started to nod off, so Izuku had let him use him as a pillow. He hadn’t thought about how the position might look from someone else’s perspective. He probably should have. 

Uraraka’s words from their lunch conversation still live in the back of his mind. He can’t really blame them for thinking he and Shinsou are dating. He had never really noticed just how much casual touch happened between them before someone had pointed it out. It just felt natural with Shinsou, so he had never questioned it. 

He had never gotten the chance to ask Shinsou how he felt about it, to ask whether it had made him uncomfortable. Obviously, it’s not the contact itself that Shinsou would be uncomfortable with, but he doesn’t want to embarrass Shinsou in front of their friends for being clingy on accident. He’ll just be more aware in the future.

Shinsou and his mom had left about a half hour ago to get a change of clothes for him to wear out of the hospital, so Izuku is alone for the first time in what feels like forever. 

Izuku loves them, he really does, but sometimes he just needs the peace that comes with solitude. The freedom and comfort that comes with not being seen for a while. However, the universe hates him, so he doesn’t get to enjoy it for long.

A knock at his door catches him off-guard, and he’s even more surprised to look up and see that the principal and some man in a suit are the source. For a second, his heart jumps into his throat, thinking that somehow he had done something to get himself expelled, but he assures himself that they wouldn’t expel him for a villain attack that he didn’t know was going to happen. Would they?

“Hello Midoriya!” Nedzu greets him brightly, giving a little wave, “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, g-good.” He’s not sure what it is about the principal that sets him on edge. He doesn’t get the sense that the principal means him harm in any way, but every time he looks at him Izuku can’t help but feel that he’s seeing everything Izuku wants to hide. It's unnerving. 

“Glad to hear it, you had us worried for a while there,” The principal sounds surprisingly genuine, stepping back to make room for the plain looking man. He wears a suit that suggests he’s some kind of official to Izuku, normally that would make him on edge, but the man’s kind brown eyes seem to assure him that he means no harm as he steps forward with a smile.

“Hello Midoriya, I’m relieved to see you recovering so well. My name is Detective Tsukauchi. I work with the local Mustafu police and the hero commission. I was wondering if you’d be okay with answering a few questions?”

Izuku nods. His mom and recovery girl had mentioned something about being questioned, but he has a bit of trouble remembering what. This is probably what they meant. 

“Is your mother or Shinsou around?” Nedzu asks, gazing around the room with a mild frown.

“No, they went to get me a change of clothes, but I can answer questions.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until they get back? We don’t want to overwhelm you, Midoriya, you’ve been through a traumatic event.” The detective looks a bit worried, but Izuku can’t really imagine why. It’s just questions, he has nothing to hide. 

He doesn’t like the way he had said ‘traumatic event’ though. He doesn’t feel like he went through a traumatic event. It just happened and he dealt with it and now it’s over. He’s fine, really. 

“I’ve been bored,” He finally says, “I really don’t mind having something to do. Besides, if I can be of help, it would be best to do this sooner rather than later. Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable, especially when the subject had a head wound.”

They just blink at him for a moment, and Izuku wracks his brain for what he could have possibly said wrong. Everything he said was correct. Reasonable, even. But they still look at him like he grew an extra head. 

Finally, Nedzu breaks the silence, “Midoriya, while that is correct, the ‘subject’ in this case is recovering, and should be treated as a victim before a witness. Also, do you make a habit of referring to yourself in the third person?”

Izuku prickles a little at the use of the word ‘victim’ but his face heats up with embarrassment at Nedzu’s question. He doesn’t know why they’re acting like he should still be upset. 

“No, not typically.” He settles for saying. 

Nedzu just tilts his head and regards him again, but the detective breaks the silence. 

“Well, if you’re sure, I suppose we can begin. Before we start, you should know that my quirk allows me to know whether a person is lying or telling the truth.”

“Huh, me too.” Izuku huffs a little laugh. He didn’t use his touch empath abilities much outside of training with Shinsou, but he had developed them pretty well.

“You- what?” The detective seems taken aback and Nedzu chuckles.

“I was wondering if you had thought to use your quirk in that way. I was going to suggest that Aizawa have you train it for that, but it seems you’re one step ahead. Detective Tsukauchi’s quirk is different, though. First, it doesn;t require contact. He can tell just by speaking with someone. And second, it is his quirk exclusively, so his is likely much stronger and more accurate than your own, though he can’t determine emotion either.”

“Wait, I thought he had some sort of energy-channeling quirk-” The detective is still spluttering.

“He does. It has a mysterious psychic element as well, though. His quirk only developed within the last year, so we don’t have much information on it yet.” Nedzu explains, now smiling as though Izuku’s quirk was the most perfect surprise anyone had given him.

“Within the last year?” The detective asks, looking even more lost the longer the conversation goes on.

“Traumatic stress-induced,” Izuku offers, hoping that will be enough of an answer. He really doesn’t want the detective to ask what triggered it. He doesn’t like that he can’t lie to this man.

“Oh, what ha-” The detective starts, but he’s interrupted by Nedzu.

“I’m sure Izuku is eager to be on his way back home.” Nedzu asserts, something unreadable behind his smile. Izuku can’t fathom why he stopped the detective, “Why don’t we go ahead and get started.”

“Right.” The detective pulls out the chair by Izuku’s bed, the one that was usually filled by either Inko or Shinsou, and takes out a notepad, “Let’s start with a few easy questions. What’s your name?”

“Izuku Midoriya.”

“Wonderful, we’ll skip the quirk question. What is your occupation?”

“Student of UA High.”

“Good. Now we’ll work our way through the more complex questions, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Where were you during the attack on the USJ?”

“I was with my class at the USJ for a rescue training exercise.”

“Okay, when the attack started, what did you see? What made it apparent that something was wrong with the situation?”

“A black mist rose up from the central plaza. At first, we thought it might be part of the training, but then Aizawa told 13 to keep us safe, so we knew something was wrong. We were charged by a man covered in black mist almost immediately. We were scattered around the building so that the villains could pick us off easier.”

“Did the man in the black mist mention anything about his motive?”

“No, he didn’t. But the other man with him did. The one with the hands all over his body. He said his goal had been to catch All Might and kill him. Tsu, Sero and I figured out that he must have some unknown weapon or something because the villains who came after us all seemed to be relatively low-level delinquents instead of properly trained threats. We didn’t know for sure what they had up their sleeve until we got away and saw their monster for ourselves.”

“Asui mentioned that you were the one to orchestrate your escape. She said you had used yourself as a distraction and had managed to incapacitate the villains. She said you were showing signs of quirk overuse by the time you had all gotten away. If you were in such a bad condition, why did you engage their ‘monster’ as you put it?”

“I didn’t feel I had a choice. The creature- well, they called him Nomu- the Nomu had Mr. Aizawa. It was obvious that if something wasn’t done to stop the attack he wouldn’t survive.”

“Okay, what happened next?”

“I re-activated my quirk and told Tsu and Sero to get Mr. Aizawa out of there once I had gotten the villains’ attention. I charged at the Nomu first, but it didn’t seem to respond, so I went after the man instead, since he seemed to be in charge. I thought if I could make him change the Nomu’s target to myself instead of Mr. Aizawa, I could lead it away and give Tsu and Sero an opportunity to get him out.”

“I’m assuming this is when you sustained the injury to your arm, is that correct?” 

“Yeah,” Izuku looks down at the thick bandages covering his left arm. He hasn’t had a chance to see it yet, but he doesn’t have his hopes up. Apparently, the flesh had been disintegrated down to the muscle.

“You used your quirk on Shigaraki, did he manage to say or do anything before or after?”

Izuku thinks. He’s sure the man had to have said something, but he can’t remember what. It’s all a little fuzzy at that point.

“He sicced the Nomu on me, I remember that, but everything after isn’t super clear. I know that it got me, and that I fought back, but it’s only really feelings at that point. I don’t think I could see any more.”

“R-right.” Tsukauchi takes down the notes, looking a little pale.

“Well done, Midoriya. We appreciate your cooperation!” Nedzu says with a smile.

“And your honesty,” Tsukauchi adds, quietly. 

“Of course.” Izuku nods, “Is that- Is that all?”

“I believe so,” The detective gathers up his notes, closing them and rising with a sigh, “You filled in an important gap in our timeline. In the space between Aizawa losing consciousness and All Might’s arrival, you were the only one near Shigaraki.”

“How is he, Aizawa, I mean?” Izuku had gotten the basics from Recovery Girl, but he doubts she gave him the un-sugar coated version.

“He’s recovering well. He’s expected to be able to return to class this next week.” Nedzu also doesn’t seem keen to give him details of the man’s injuries, but as long as he’ll be okay, Izuku supposes it doesn’t matter. 

“I’m glad.” Izuku breathes a small sigh of relief.

“We’ll leave you now, Midoriya, get plenty of rest.” Nedzu offers him a wave as he leads the distracted detective out of the room. 

Izuku watches them go, feeling like he’s forgotten to mention something, but unable to remember what it is.

---

When Izuku gets home he’s careful to avoid mirrors. 

His scars are thicker now, some of them spreading a little farther than they had before. They’re an angry, raised red, but they don’t ache too badly. Whether that’s from their lack of severity or the pain meds is unclear though. He’s dizzy from walking, his head spinning whenever he stands, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Recovery Girl had told him that it would be a day or two until he felt one hundred percent back to normal, so he’s not too worried about it. 

The worst part is the large scar that covers most of his forearm. It’s red and warped, almost like a burn, but it’s sunken in just barely, proof of where his flesh had been torn away. Izuku is eternally grateful that his mother had thought to bring him a long-sleeved t-shirt. 

His mother hasn’t said much since they got home, letting Shinsou and Izuku disappear back into his room to play cards before bed. He had noticed how she almost flinched at his mentions of being excited to go back to school, and he gets the feeling that this is something they’re going to have to talk about. She had handled the whole situation suspiciously well, which makes Izuku think that maybe she’s not really dealing with it at all, opting to put on the act that everything is okay for Izuku’s sake. He knows when to recognize it, seeing as he does the same, but he doesn’t call her out on it, not yet. 

Truthfully, he’s grateful. He doesn’t want to talk about what happened. It happened and now it’s over and they’re moving on. Sure, it had been scary, and Izuku had almost died, but the keyword is almost. He’s fine now, and he hasn’t even noticed anything wrong that could be the result of brain damage. Maybe he got lucky.

Izuku turns on his lamp as he and Shinsou get back to his room, Shinsou taking the end of the bed out of habit and stretching across it like a cat, his phone already out. Izuku feels a little jealous, seeing as Recovery Girl had banned him from screens, but he pulls out his notebooks instead. It would be a good idea to take down notes of what he saw at the USJ. Tsu’s and Sero’s quirks are especially interesting, and he doesn’t have anything on any of his classmates except Bakugo yet. 

He flips open the latest volume, coming to rest on the last page he had written. He must have been tired when he wrote it, because the words make no sense to him. They don’t even really look like words. He laughs and Shinsou turns to look at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“My notes. I must have taken these when I was dead tired because they make no sense at all.”

“Oh yeah?” Shinsou slips his phone into his hoodie pocket, sitting up with a smirk, “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Okay, but no judgment.”

“I would never .”

Izuku gives him a look, but still starts at the first line. It’s difficult to make out. 

“Kay amuiey wu- uh- hoodses’ quahay yirkish hin- h- herlive erstatiley?” Izuku laughs between the sounds, not entirely sure how he had intended them to be strung together. They look so weird, almost like they aren’t japanese at all.

Shinsou chuckles as well, reaching out a hand to see for himself. Izuku hands it over, still laughing. 

Shinsou squints in confusion at the page, and at first Izuku thinks he’s having difficulty, too, but then he looks up at Izuku with slightly narrowed eyes, his smile completely gone. 

“Izuku, this looks normal.” Ah, so he’s pulling his leg.

“No, it doesn’t,” Izuku laughs again, turning back to his desk to fiddle with his pencil, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you read it.”

Shinsou gives him a look that Izuku can’t quite make out, but he looks back at the page, reading aloud, “Kamui Woods’ quirk is highly versatile.”

“Hah, what?” Izuku snorts, with all the shorthand Shinsou uses, he’s probably better at making out nonsense than Izuku is, “How did you do that?”

Shinsou’s face pales, all remaining hints of humor fading. He reaches into his pocket with a shaking hand. 

Before Izuku can ask what he’s doing he’s pulled up something on his phone, shoving it in Izuku’s face. He blinks at it for a moment, it’s some headline or other.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks, trying to ignore the way Shinsou is staring at him. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Read it,” Shinsou’s voice is low, clipped with urgency, “Out loud.”

“Okay…” Izuku squints, trying to make out what it says. Again, it doesn’t totally look like Japanese. The words don’t make sense.

“Lee agu ey o-ofil rains lan unchel Atin- tak onu- uh- hig sich ol?” Izuku chuckles again, but Shinsou doesn’t join him, “What the hell is that?”

Shinsou’s eyes go wide and he turns the screen toward himself, taking a deep, shaky breath before he reads, “League of Villains Launch Attack on UA High School.”

“What?” It hadn’t said that unless it’s in some weird dialect or something that Izuku doesn’t know.

“Izuku, why- why can’t you read these?” Shinsou’s voice is shaky.

“What do you mean? They don’t make any sense. It doesn’t even look like words, really.” Izuku is starting to get a little freaked out.

“They’re normal, Izuku, you should be able to read them.”

“Oh,” Well that’s… that’s not good, “It’s- it’s probably because of the headache. I’m still healing. I’m sure I’ll be able to see it better once I’m back to normal.”

Shinsou looks like he wants to protest, but just nods.

“Right, yeah. We can try again once you’ve rested. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Good idea.” He really, really hopes he’s right about this.

---

“Young Bakugo, how are you today?” Nedzu settles in his desk chair with a little huff, smiling brightly.

“I’m fine.” He says it gruffly, but not impolitely. A fine line he’s nearly mastered in the last week or so. 

“I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure you know why we’re meeting today.”

“Yeah, I’m getting expelled.”

“Haha, no,” Nedzu laughs, gesturing with a paw as though he were waving the thought away. Katsuki releases a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding. He had been prepared to receive bad news when he was called in by the principal, but if that’s not the case, then why is he here? “While you technically went against one of your criteria, I think the circumstances are more than adequate.”

“I ran into a situation fully intending to use my quirk for unauthorized combat. Just because the smoke guy managed to transport me at the last second doesn’t change that.” He knows he shouldn’t be giving him reasons to kick him out, but he hates when things aren’t clear, when they don’t make sense. He had been given clear instructions, he had broken them, so he should be facing consequences. He thought he knew what to expect.

“Today I will implore you to pay a bit more attention to the why than the what of the situation. Of course, you understand why you are banned from combat exercises, right?”

“Yeah, because I can’t be trusted to control my quirk.”

“No. On the contrary. I believe you have extraordinary control of your quirk, but your motives, your core reasons for why and how you used it, those were the issue. You used your quirk to fight, to win, to overpower and defeat others. This is where the issue lies. However, your behavior during the USJ attack denotes an entirely different motive. You were prepared to use your quirk to protect and defend.” Nedzu shuffles his papers to the side, locking eyes with Katsuki as he delivers the last line, “I think this is perhaps the best sign of development that I could hope for.”

Bakugo just stares at him for a long minute. He’s the first to break eye contact.

“How is your therapy going, Bakugo?”

“It’s-” He wants to say that it sucks and he hates spending an hour every day being picked apart when he could be training and becoming better and not twiddling his thumbs and falling behind his classmates, but instead, “It’s going well.”

“You’re frustrated.” It’s not a question, “Tell me, when is the last time you used your quirk?”

“The USJ.”

“And before that?”

“The- the exercise with All Might.” 

“As I suspected. Your quirk seems to be a soothing presence to you. It’s only natural you should have some difficulty when your access to it is cut off.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I mean I want you to start training your quirk again. You’ll be training alone, or with one of the teachers, of course, but I believe it could be good for you. As always, though, there is a condition.”

“What is it?” Bakugo reels himself back, trying to pretend that it wasn't as snappish as it was. He’s embarrassed by how much he wants this. Nedzu was right, his quirk is his outlet, “What’s the condition, sir?”

“When you use your quirk, I want you to envision the scenarios in which you will be using it. Imagine the scenarios you may find yourself in as a pro hero one day.  Instead of envisioning inflicting pain or power over others, envision protecting, saving, and rescuing people. Learn to view your quirk as the necessary tool of a hero, not the sole component of what makes a hero.” Nedzu leans back with a smile, “I think you’ll find it far easier, and far more rewarding than you would expect.”

Katsuki nods, allowing a small smile to form. It’s not freedom, but it’s something. He’s getting better.

Chapter Text

Izuku had never thought about just how many things a person reads in a day, until now. He hasn’t seen Shinsou since the night he got back, and he’s not keen to. He had asked to come over a couple of times according to his mom, but Izuku hasn’t responded to the texts, refusing to even take his phone back from his mom. He says it’s just caution, but he can tell that she knows something is wrong. He doesn’t have to look to know he won’t be able to read Shinsou’s messages. 

He had spent hours looking through his notebooks, newspapers, random novels, and even textbooks. Some words he could still manage to sound out, but they didn’t click as words until he said them out loud while looking away from the page. It feels like trying to decode a tongue twister game, where they give you a few words to say that, if said fast enough, sound like something else. It had been scary for a while, and he may or may not have screamed into his pillow for a few hours and pulled out some of his own hair in frustration, but now it just feels distant. 

It can’t be real. He can’t have forgotten how to read. He had written a note to his mom just to see if he could, and she had read it without issue, but when he took it back, it made no sense again. The characters didn’t mean anything to him. He can still write, so he should be able to read, right? There’s no possible way this is actually happening. He just has to wait for it to click back into place.

The train station is almost empty now. He had arrived just as the train before his own had left. He’s early on purpose. The map that displays his route to school offers no words that he can understand, but it has everything marked with pictures. He has his route mostly memorized, but he needs to be certain he’ll get off at the right stop. He finds UA on the map, marked with a little blue star. The station is five stops away. Just because he can’t read the station names doesn’t mean he can’t count. Besides, as long as he doesn’t listen to music like usual, he’ll be able to hear the announcement of his stop. If only he could remember what the station was called. It’s A-something. Starts with an ‘ah’ sound. That will have to be good enough.

The train rolls into the station with it’s usual low rumble, and Izuku feels his gut tighten with anxiety. Getting to UA was one problem, but how the hell is he supposed to go to school if he can’t read anything? 

He steps on anyway, hoping against hope that he’ll go back to normal before he arrives. 

He counts the stops. 

He’s relieved when he recognizes the platform as he pulls in, some UA students already milling about, most looking somewhere between excited and exhausted. As he steps onto the platform Izuku realizes that it’s the first time he’s done so without Shinsou’s help. Something twists in his gut at the thought, but he pushes forward. If he gets to his class early enough he might be able to avoid being swarmed all at once. 

The gentle noise and bustle of the hallways in the early morning is comforting. He knows what they’re whispering about, and he swears he sees people watching him out of the corner of his eye, but no one has tried to approach him yet, so he’ll just pretend he doesn’t see it. 

He knows he looks like absolute shit. His scars are still red, though they aren't as raised and angry as they had been. The shadows under his eyes haven’t improved at all since he was released from the hospital. He hadn’t exactly been getting enough sleep. Sure, he laid on his bed for eight hours, but his mind just races on and on through the night, burning behind his eyes. As the voices inside his head grew louder, everything around him grew quieter, and now he feels a comfortable disconnect between himself and the outside world. It’s probably not healthy, but it’s keeping him sane, so he let’s it happen.

He hesitates as he reaches the classroom door, sending up a quick prayer to whatever was listening that he would be the first to arrive. 

“There you are!” Izuku desperately wants to go back in time and slap himself before he can open the door, but instead he just takes a breath and plasters on a smile as he turns to Shinsou. He’s sitting smugly at his desk, Uraraka and Iida already beside him.

“Hah, yeah,” He resists the urge to turn tail and run as he approaches them, “Here I am.”

“Midoriya!” Uraraka cheers, capturing him in a hug before he can stop her, “We were so worried! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I got out in one piece, somehow,” He laughs, ignoring the way Shinsou flinches a little, “How are you guys? No one seems to want to tell me any details.”

“We got out okay, just a few scrapes and bruises. 13 is expected to make a full recovery as well. As far as I know, you were the only student that had to be hospitalized.”

“Indeed, Midoriya, Your quick thinking and decisive action saved lives!” Iida delivers the lines with a tone of seriousness that seems far too severe for the early hour, but Izuku appreciates them nonetheless.

“I texted you.” Shinsou states, and Izuku knows what he’s asking. He wants to know if Izuku could read them, why he didn’t respond.

“I don’t have my phone back yet,” Izuku was prepared for this, “My mom thinks it might be a good idea to give me a little longer to recover before I start using screens again. I’ve been having some mild headaches and we don’t want to risk making them worse.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Midoriya, what’s your number? I made a class group chat and I want to add you to it.”

“O-oh, uh-” He doesn’t know whether he should he give it to her or not, so he opts to stall, “I actually can’t remember what it is off the top of my head, embarrassingly enough. I think it changed over the summer when I got my new phone.”

“It did,” Shinsou shakes his head, “Of course that’s not the kind of thing you would bother memorizing. No, it was more important to memorize the names and quirks of every hero currently operating in Belgium.”

“Listen, I wanted to expand my knowledge of overseas heroes, it’s not my fault their names are hilarious.”

“They’re not that funny.”

“Sterke Man” Izuku sees Shinsou bite back a smile, so he continues. He will make him crack, “Waterjongen, Zwarte Dood, Spinachtige, need I go on?”

Uraraka snorts, so Izuku decides to count it as a victory. 

“I like your antlers, Izuku, they’re longer now. They make you look like some kind of woodland prince!”

Izuku chokes, helpless to stop it as his face turns bright red. 

“That- that’s not- I don’t-”

“Don't hurt yourself, Izuku,” Shinsou drawls with a smug smile, all too happy to watch Izuku self-destruct as he tries to accept a compliment.

“I- I uh- thank you,” He finally squeaks out, fighting the urge to hide his face in his hands. He takes his seat, and tries to ignore the looks thrown his way as the class files in, grateful that Iida and Uraraka keep him engaged in their conversations so no one else has a chance to butt in and ask questions that Izuku doesn’t have the heart to answer. 

Eventually the topic of who their substitute will be comes up, and apparently the top contenders are either Midnight or Cementoss, but the class goes silent when their teacher walks through the door. 

Aizawa is covered in bandages, looking like a mummy that had risen from the dead less-than-willingly. Izuku stares, wondering why and how the man had decided to attend class anyway, despite not being fully recovered.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Mina gasps, “Are you sure you should be here so soon?”

“I don’t need the bandages,” his voice is muffled, but his annoyance is clear, “The old woman wouldn’t let me leave unless I wore them. I’m fine.” 

His eyes sweep the class, pausing for a moment when they pass over Izuku. He sinks in his seat a little, not excited to know why their teacher has decided to take an interest in him today. 

“Alright, shut up and listen up,” Aizawa continues, pulling out a clipboard and resting it atop the podium, “We have the sports festival coming up in a couple of weeks, so we’ll need to start preparing. We’re already at a disadvantage because of the lost time, so I expect you all to buckle down.”

“Is it a good idea to be holding the festival after what happened?” Kaminiar asks, and surprisingly, Aizawa doesn’t look too annoyed to be interrupted. 

“I understand your concern, but security will be tripled, in addition to the fact that the event will be crawling with pro heroes. UA has decided to go ahead with the festival in a show of strength and resilience. That means you can expect even more people than usual to be watching this year, and I trust you all not to disappoint.”

The class nods, a few half-hearted ‘yes sir’s being thrown around. Aizawa seems satisfied, heaving a sigh before he continues.

“That’s all for now. Midoriya,” Izuku looks up sharply, his throat constricting at the thought of being called out by name in front of the entire class, “I need to talk to you, meet me in the hall.”

Aizawa doesn’t wait for him, already stalking out the door, leaving it cracked open behind him. 

Izuku rises on shaking legs, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he makes his way down the row of desks. His limbs feel numb, like he doesn’t have complete control of them. Whispers follow him out of the room, and it’s a relief when the door shuts behind him, but the relief is short-lived. Aizawa fixes him with the most intense stare Izuku has ever seen, and if he didn’t know the effect his quirk had on him, Izuku would think he had activated it. 

“Midoriya, how are you feeling?”

Okay, that’s not what he was expecting.

“F-fine, sir.”

“Any headaches or anything? I didn’t believe Recovery Girl when she said you would be back so soon, but it seems she was right.”

“Nothing I can’t handle, sir, that is- nothing out of the ordinary. A-and I could say the same for you, sir.”

“Hm,” Aizawa grunts, and Izuku can’t tell if he’s imagining the hint of amusement in the expression, “You’ll let me know if there’s any change, won’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Izuku’s voice is shaky, no matter how he wills it not to be.

“I’d like to meet with you again when classes let out, we need to talk some more, but for now you should get back to class. Mic will be arriving any minute now, and I’d rather not be here when he does. My head is killing me.”

Izuku just stares at him. He’s never heard Aizawa speak this casually, or this honestly. It’s a little weird. 

“Well, go on,” Aizawa shoos him, and Izuku takes the hint, giving a little half bow and ducking back into the classroom. 

He takes his seat quickly, avoiding the prying eyes of the class by leaning down to get his notebook out of his bag. He might not be able to read right now, but he can write. He’s not sure how that will help him take notes, but he figures it’s worth a try. 

---

Izuku now understands why Aizawa had been so eager to duck out before Present Mic’s arrival. They’ve only been in class for about fifteen minutes, and already the subtle ache behind his eyes had grown into a full-bodied migraine. He shuts his eyes to avoid throwing up, and just prays he can get through the class without the pain becoming too overwhelming. 

“Midoriya!” Present Mic crows happily, likely believing he was waking the boy up, as though anyone could sleep through one of his classes, “Would you be willing to read the next section on the use of the semicolon?”

Izuku stares down at the page, trying to control his breathing as his eyes run over it frantically. If it weren’t for the picture of the semicolon beside the paragraph, he wouldn’t even know where to start, not that knowing where the passage begins will help him any. His stomach knots painfully as he starts. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, burning.

“ T-t,” Think, dammit, chances are the section will start with the, that’s the only word that makes sense there anyway, “The Se- semin-”

He hears a giggle from the front of the class, Present Mic’s expectant smile slowly fading to a confused frown. Izuku begs his voice not to shake as he continues, tears already burning in his eyes, blurring the page further. The class starts to whisper, his heart beat pounding louder in response.

“The s-” He chokes. His breath is coming fast, too fast. He feels like he’s burning, sweat running down his back, hands shaking uncontrollably, “Th-”

“Midoriya? Is everything okay?”

Izuku doesn’t answer him. Someone else says his name, but he can’t tell who. If he doesn’t get out of there he’s going to pass out. 

“-his quirk,” Somebody is announcing, “Stay calm.”

Izuku throws himself to his feet, ignoring the way his classmates turn to him as his chair clatters to the ground. Present Mic is walking toward him, his face twisted with concern, but Izuku can’t hear him. He can’t stay here any longer.

He shoves past his teacher, practically launching himself at the classroom door. He doesn’t stop once he’s passed through it, letting it slam shut behind him. He grips his head in his shaking hands, pulling on his hair in a feeble attempt to ground himself. His breath is coming far too quickly and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. The floor seems to tilt beneath him, but he keeps running.

Fuck, this is really happening. 

He had thought that if he just gave himself time it would sort itself out, but sure enough, he can’t read anymore. 

He almost wants to laugh. How the fuck does this even happen? He can still write, can still understand everything people say to him, can still respond to them without issue, so why is it that he can’t read anything? It doesn’t make any sense.

By the time he’s aware of his surroundings again he’s standing outside of the infirmary, shaking head to toe as he tries to calm his breathing enough to keep from passing out. She’ll know what’s going on. She’ll know what to do.

Still, he hesitates. If he tells someone, if he admits it out loud, then it will be real. There will be no going back, no more pretending. His stomach lurches and he narrowly avoids throwing up, forcing the bile back down his throat and wrapping his arms tight around his middle. 

Recovery Girl doesn’t look up immediately when he enters.

“You had better have a teacher's note,” She drawls, typing something on her computer, still not sparing him a glance, “I am not a candy dispensary, after all.”

“Recovery Girl,” He huffs, suddenly feeling very lightheaded.

Finally, she turns, her mild frown turning to shock as she takes in his appearance. He knows he’s not looking too hot. His face is pale and clammy, he’s breathing fast, doubled over himself. Add that onto the fact that he had looked like hell when he got to school to start with, and it’s not a pretty picture. 

“Midoriya,” She breathes, “Sit! Sit! I will not have you fainting on my floor!”

Izuku does as she instructs him, sinking into one of the chairs by the door, trying to ignore the way his legs continue to shake even though they aren’t holding him up anymore. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” She presses a hand against his forehead, her other hand already holding his wrist to take his pulse.

“Oh, that’s- that’s very fast.” She pulls back, looking him in the eyes.

“Midoriya I need you to take some deep breaths, follow my lead.” She breathes in, audibly, and Izuku does his best to mimic her, his own breathing more stuttered and shaky, “That’s it, keep breathing with me.”

He does so, the tension slowly leaking out of his limbs, leaving them heavy as a wave of exhaustion sweeps through him. 

“Now, tell me what’s going on, are you injured? You were in class Present Mic, correct?”

“Y-yeah. I’m okay- I’m- I’m physically okay, I think.”

“Physically?” She repeats. He gets the feeling she knows where this is going. 

“Yeah, I- I’m-” The words stick in his throat. He doesn’t even know how to say this, “He asked me to read and- and I couldn’t. I can’t- I can’t r-” He feels his breathing pick up again and he forces himself to stop.

“Midoriya, are you trying to say that you’re having trouble reading?” Her voice is even, controlled, but it doesn;t hide the hint of concern that laces her words.

“I can’t,” Izuku feels pathetic as the words fall from his lips, “I can’t read.”

“Okay,” She takes a deep breath of her own, “I knew we may have a problem like this, though I wasn’t expecting this particular issue, of course. Can you write?”

He nods.

“Good, okay, and you’re not having trouble speaking or understanding people?”

He shakes his head, still not trusting his voice completely.

“Okay, I’ll need to monitor it, and run through a few exercises with you, but it sounds like you’re describing something called alexia. It’s common in cases where there has been some damage to the rear left lobe of the brain. You probably suffered a minor lesion in the area before we could get the swelling under control.” 

Izuku swallows. He hears the information, but none of it feels like it’s really sinking in. 

“Oh God,” He groans, “This can’t be happening. I can’t- I can’t do this. Not now-”

“Calm down, Midoriya, it will be alright. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like pure alexia, meaning you can still write and process auditory language. We’ll find a way to work around this, okay?”

He wants to agree, but he can’t seem to make his mouth form the words. This is anything but okay.

“I- my classes- I can’t just-” How the hell is he supposed to make it through the most difficult heroics academic course in the country if he can’t even read?

“Midoriya, think of it this way: If we can accommodate for blind students, who also cannot read a traditional text, then we can accommodate you. I’m not going to tell you it will be without its challenges, but it is possible.” She places a hand on his shoulder, “I’m going to call Present Mic and let him know you’re okay, just try and keep calm.”

Izuku nods as she turns away, doing his best to keep his breath even. He’s really done it now. He took one of his strongest skills and bashed his skull around so much that he lost it. Good thing he took fourteen volumes of now-useless notes. Why is he so fucking stupid?

He buries his head in his hands, digging the heels into his eyes. The ache in his head has only grown worse, the consistent reminder of what he’s done to himself. Why is it that he always tries to do the right thing, and all he ever manages is to break himself? Even his fall, in some sick, twisted way, was an attempt to do something right. To do something for others. After all, he wasn’t the first one to plant the thought in his head.

His breath shudders as he bites back another sob. God, this is pathetic. 

“Midoriya?”

He looks up, ignoring the sympathetic look Recovery Girl gives him when she sees his red, tired eyes. 

“You’ll figure this out, and until you do, it’s okay to be frustrated. Stay as long as you need, Mic knows where you are, and he doesn’t mind that you left. He understands.”

“I should still probably apologize to him. I was rude.”

“You were having a panic attack,” Recovery Girl corrects, “And you can make it up to him by listening to the lecture he’s recorded for you. He says he’ll record his classes for you for the foreseeable future so you can trim the audios for your notes. I’ll be informing your other teachers of your situation as well. I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to make accommodations.”

“Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” She smiles warmly, patting him on the shoulder as she goes back to her desk, giving him some privacy. He’s both thankful for it, and wishing for something more to distract him from the thoughts that swirl through his mind like a storm. 

An hour later, he leaves Recovery Girl’s office with a promise to return for further analysis, and makes his way to Cementoss’ class, purposefully late so that no one can try to talk to him. He doesn’t bother taking notes anymore.

---

Izuku can feel Shinsou’s eyes on him as he packs up his things. He had managed to avoid him and the others throughout the day, even skipping lunch in favor of locking himself in a bathroom stall and trying not to have a breakdown. He knows he can’t hide any of this from Shinsou, from their friends, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to tell them just yet. The wound is still too fresh.

“Izuku,” Shinsou catches his elbow before he can get out the door, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all good,” It sounds weak, even to him, “I just got a little overwhelmed today, being back to class and all.”

“We can- we can talk?” Shinsou sounds hurt, unsure. Izuku hates that it’s his fault.

“Yeah. Yeah we can talk about it- just- just not now. I need to meet with Aizawa.”

“We usually walk to the station together,” Izuku knows he’s talking about this morning as well, and Izuku feels bad, but he had to do that on his own. He had to prove to himself that he could do it alone.

“You go on ahead. This may take a while.”

“Right.” He sounds hurt, closed off. Izuku can’t leave him like this.

“I’ll see you at the station tomorrow morning, though. Say, seven-ish?” As far as olive branches go, it’s weak, but it’s what he has to offer right now.

“Yeah,” Shinsou’s voice is softer now, the smallest hint of a smile teasing at his lips as he searches Izuku’s face for something. Izuku doesn’t know what, but he smiles back, “Seven-ish. On the dot.”

Izuku laughs, and Shinsou bumps his shoulder one more time before he strides out of the classroom, leaving Izuku alone. Or, so he thought.

“Midoriya, you actually stayed.” Aizawa sounds as though he’s surprised, crossing through the door only seconds after Shinsou had swung it shut. 

“Why would I not?” 

“Well, it’s been a pretty eventful day for you from what I’ve heard from Present Mic and Recovery Girl. How are you feeling?”

“I- I’m fine,” Izuku manages, his hands starting to shake again from nerves.

Aizawa snorts at that, “Yeah, sure kid.”

Izuku deosn’t know how to respond to that. On one hand, Aizawa is right, he’s not taking this well at all, but on the other hand, he really doesn’t feel comfortable confiding in his new teacher. He barely knows the guy and half the time he feels like the man is trying to dissect him with his gaze alone. It’s a little intimidating.

“Alright,” Aizawa sighs, “Well, I spoke with Recovery Girl, and I’ll be recording my lectures for you for the foreseeable future. We also though it might be a good idea to get you a recorder of your own so that you can take notes whenever you need to, that way our recordings can act as a sort of backup. Does that sound good?”

With a recorder he would be able to take notes. And not just on school stuff. He can fill tapes upon tapes of his continued hero analyses. It’s not the same as the comfort of his ever-present notebooks, but it may be a good substitute.

“Yes. I- I would like that very much,” He manages to choke out, “Thank you, sir.”

Aizawa looks almost sad when Izuku gives him a half-bow in thanks. He sighs again.

“Kid, this is like, the bare minimum we can do to help. You really don’t need to thank me. In fact, I should probably be thanking you.”

Izuku’s head shoots up, and he knows his face must be twisted in confusion, but he can’t help it. Why would a literal pro hero need to thank him?

“What you did at the USJ was reckless beyond anything I would have expected out of you. It scared the absolute shit out of me. Before I continue, I want to stress that I never want to see you do anything like that ever again, understand?” Aizawa fixes him with an intense stare.

“U-understood, sir,” Izuku isn’t entirely certain that he isn’t being scolded. It’s all very confusing.

“Good. Like I said, what you did was reckless and stupid, but I also have to thank you. You stepped in where many pros would have lacked the courage, believe me, I worked with a lot of them. A part of me still wishes you hadn’t, but it’s probably the only reason I’m still standing here today. I thank you for that, Midoriya, but-”

He sighs, inhaling shakily. Izuku stares on, confused as to why Aizawa has such a strong reaction to what he had done. Sure, it had been dangerous, but as he said, it had been worth it. 

“You almost died. I never plan to lose a student, and when I saw you there, holding Shigaraki back even as he used his quirk on you, I thought I was about to. Look at me-” He gestures for Izuku to raise his eyes up from the floor, “Your life is worth just as much as those you protect. No one would be better off in a world without you, Midoriya Izuku, nobody. And certainly not me. So stay alive, got it?”

Izuku swallows, ignoring the way his eyes have started to sting, a painful knot forming in his throat.

“I need to hear it, kid. Promise you’ll look out for yourself, even when I can’t.”

“I- I promise.” His voice is hoarse and broken, but Aizawa pretends not to notice.

“Good, I’ll hold you to it, problem child.” And Izuku believes him.

Chapter Text

When Izuku steps through the door his mother is waiting for him. On it’s own, this isn’t a bad sign, but there are tears in her eyes and she’s forcing a smile, and Izuku’s stomach is dropping like a stone. 

“Hey Izuku, how was school?” Her voice is wobbly and unsure.

“It was- It-” Izuku drops his own fake smile, “It wasn’t great. Did they call you?”

She nods, “Go ahead and take off your shoes and backpack, I’ll be on the couch.”

Izuku sighs as she turns the corner. He knows, logically, that she would have to find out eventually, but he didn’t want to add to her burden so soon. If only he’d had more time to figure it out, to find some solutions. Then her knowing wouldn’t be so bad. But right now? He’s just as lost as she’s probably feeling.

He deposits his things by the door and joins her on the couch. A small silence stretches between them, but she breaks it. 

“They called it Alexia,” She starts, “They said it impacts your ability to read.”

“Yeah, I can still sound some things out, but not much.”

“When did you notice it?”

Izuku can hear the hidden question there: Why didn’t you tell me?

“I wasn’t sure until I got to class, but I suspected something was wrong before.” He clears his throat past the knot that’s threatening to form, “Since I wasn’t using screens I didn’t actually read anything until I got home. I thought I was just having trouble because I was still recovering, so I just tried to ignore it.”

“Izuku, you can come to me about things like this. Even if you aren’t sure, even if they don’t end up being that serious, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” He fights back tears, not entirely sure why they’re forming, “I know, mom. I- I just- I didn’t want to say anything, because if I said it out loud, then it would be real. I know it might sounds stupid, but I was hoping it might just go away.”

“That’s not stupid, honey,” She reaches forward, gathering him into a hug. Izuku lets himself lean into it. He hadn't noticed how badly he needed this, “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. First you get attacked and see your teacher hurt and then you have to deal with your own healing, and now this. It’s natural that you would get overwhelmed. I just wish that you would come to me when that happens instead of shutting down. I haven’t said anything because I know you’re growing up and figuring things out for yourself, but I feel like you grow more distant from me every day. I know that middle school was rough for you, and I wanted to give you space, but I’m worried that I might have made the wrong choice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone against all of this.”

 He doesn’t say what he wants to say, that he’s sorry for pulling away, that he has no intention of not pulling away. He wants to apologize for having become so distant and closed off, but he also knows that its something he has to do. This distance will protect all of them, himself included. 

“I know, mom,” he murmurs into her shoulder, “It’s not your fault, you’re an amazing mother. I wouldn’t be who I am without you. I just-” He sighs. How is he supposed to explain this, “Sometimes I need to figure things out alone for my own sake. I need to make sense of it myself before I can bring other people into it. You get that, don’t you?”

It’s only half a lie.

“I do,” She holds him at arms length, a shaky smile forming on her lips as she takes him in. He’s grown so much, and sure, he looks very different than the little boy she raised, but he’s still that same kind and curious boy at heart. She can’t help but feel proud of his bravery in the face of everything, even if she wishes that he didn’t have anything to be brave about, “We’ll figure this out, Izuku. I believe in you.”

“Thanks mom,” He returns her smile, finally pulling fully out of her embrace. 

“I’m going to go get started on dinner, would you be willing to listen to the instructions your teacher sent? They’re something about setting up your phone so that you can do everything through sound instead of text.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good. I think I’m cleared to work with screens again, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

She ruffles his hair as she passes him to go back toward the kitchen, her phone left on the coffee table with a bright red play button displayed over what he assumes to be his teacher’s instructions. 

Izuku listens as Aizawa (and Present Mic, at random intervals) instructs him on how to instal text readers and other programs on his phone, many of which are made for the blind. He follows the instructions as best he can, and he and his mother celebrate the small victory over dinner that night. 

Izuku begins to wonder if he ought to try learning braille, and it’s at that point that his mother sends him to bed, knowing that if she lets him stay up with that train of thought he won’t sleep until he’s tested his theory. For now, it can wait.

---

At six fifty-four the next morning, Izuku spots Shinsou’s vibrant indigo hair through the crowd at the train station. Shinsou spots him about the same time, waving him over with a sleepy half-smile.

“You made it,” He leans against Izuku’s side, slinging an arm over his shoulders, “Seven-ish on the dot, as agreed.”

Izuku laughs, leaning into his touch just the slightest bit.

“How are you feeling?” Shinsou’s voice is lowered, more serious, but the hint of a smile never leaves.

“Good, actually. My headache is gone.”

“Glad to hear it, does this mean the position is open?”

“What?”

“May I apply to be your personal headache today?” Shinsou grins brightly, likely trying to distract Izuku from the fact that he’s pickpocketing him. For some reason, Shinsou had thought that might be a useful skill to pick up.

“It looks like you already are. Give it back.” He holds out his hand for his phone, pretending to look bored.

“Give what back?” Shinsou asks, unlocking Izuku’s phone and looking through his news feed, “You follow Irish Heroes Daily?”

“Yes, it’s good to keep track of what’s going on internationally. Now, give it back.”

“Fine.” Shinsou grumbles, handing it back. He doesn’t mention the speaker icon he had seen that now accompanies all the text on Izuku’s phone. Instead, he pulls Izuku closer, disguising it as a stumble.

“Sorry, my balance is always wonky in the morning.”

“Right.” Izuku looks down, and Shinsou swears he sees the edge of a blush, but he could just be imagining it. 

“Do you think Splody Von Bombmeister will be allowed to compete in the festival? Apparently he was banned from combat exercises after he tried to kill you.”

“He was?” 

“You mean you didn’t notice?” Shinsou gives him a weird look. 

“Not really, I kind of just ignore him if I’m honest.” Izuku tucks his phone back in his pocket, “He hasn’t tried anything for a while, so I’ve just let it be.”

“I honestly can’t believe Aizawa didn’t expel him. He seems like the type that wouldn’t put up with that sort of thing.”

“Aizawa’s focus is on potential,” He tries not to think about the concern that had been in Aizawa’s eyes last time they had spoken. It was almost unsettling to see their teacher soften like that. It didn’t seem fitting, especially for Izuku’s sake, “If he thinks Bakugo still has a chance of becoming a hero he won’t get rid of him. Besides, with a quirk like his UA would be stupid to get rid of him that easily.”

“I don’t know, if I were a civilian I don’t think that’s what I would want to come to try and rescue me.” Shinsou bites back a grin.

“But if you were a villain, would you want to go against him?”

“Hmm, good point. Though, I get the feeling his collateral damage will be on-par with Endeavor.”

“I wonder if Endeavor was this bad when he was in school.” Izuku laughs, “If he’s insufferable now, imagine him with teenage hormones. Yikes.”

“Ew, gross, I’d rather not.”

“Oh, that’s us,” Izuku nods at the approaching train as it’s brakes begin to hiss with it’s arrival.

Izuku doesn’t miss the way Shinsou manages not to break contact as they board the train, sitting so that their thighs and shoulders were pressed against each other. For a moment, Izuku considered asking about it, but he didn’t want to risk making Shinsou self-conscious about it. Besides, it was kind of… nice.

“How are you feeling about the festival?” Izuku finally breaks the silence. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, but he feels he’s been too silent around Shinsou lately.

“Well, it’s sort of a mix. On one hand, it’s a dream come true and an awesome opportunity to show off my skill. But, on the other hand, I’m kind of scared.”

“Scared?” Izuku resists the urge to use his touch empathy to read his emotions. Shinso probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

“Yeah,” Shinsou sighs, “I came out on top in the exams, but it was due to a fluke. It feels like everyone has just been taking me seriously because of my score and once they see that I’m not as good as that made me look they’ll know I don’t really belong.”

“That’s impossible.” Izuku says lightly, Shinsou turning to him sharply in confusion.

“What do you mean that’s impossible-?”

“Simple, they can’t see that you don’t belong because you do belong. Even if you came in last in the test, didn’t manage to kick our teachers ass in the assessment, and you get eliminated immediately in the sports festival, you still belong. You’re already more of a hero than most of them. You have the heart for it.”

Shinsou looks down at his shoes, trying and failing to hide his now very red face. Izuku just chuckles. He’s so easy to fluster.

“Thanks,” He finally mumbles, pressing into Izuku’s side a little. Izuku presses back.

“Just don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

Shinsou nods and a moment of silence passes between them. The sounds of the train clacking over its tracks and the quiet shuffling and murmurs of the morning commuters creating a soothing background. As they come around the corner the early morning sun glints off the glass towers of UA, sending small sparks of golden light through their train car. Shinsou is the one to break the silence this time.

“Did you hear about the fight Mount Lady worked last night? Apparently some stupid gang members thought they could use rope to stop her like in those old movies.”

“You’re kidding,” Izuku laughs.

“Dead serious, they had a whole speech prepared and everything and she just swept it aside like cobwebs.”

“Oh my god,” Izuku snorts, laughing harder at the ridiculous noise, Shinsou joining in as they melted into a pile of giggles. 

As they make their way through the gates of UA Izuku can’t help but remember just how lucky he is to have Shinsou as a friend. Life doesn’t feel as heavy when he’s with him. 

“I promised Recovery Girl that I would stop by for some tests, so I’ll meet up with you when I get back,” Izuku lingers at the foot of the stairs where Shinsou had turned back when he realized he wasn't following. Shinsou blinks for a moment, but eventually nods.

“Yeah okay, sounds good. Uh, good luck?”

“Thanks,” Izuku huffs a laugh, lingering just a second longer before he finally turns to go. He’s not sure what made him hesitate, but it felt weird to leave Shinsou’s side again. It’s probably just nerves.

---

By the time Izuku finally manages to escape Recovery Girl’s office, the first period is nearly over. She had run him through a series of physical and mental tests, taking notes all the while. Finally, she had given him a voice recorder, a lecture on safety, some bad news, and sent him on his way.

He’s still reeling a little as he fiddles with the device, figuring out the controls. She had spoken with Aizawa and Nedzu and they’d all agreed that it would be best if Izuku didn’t participate in the sports festival. 

Of course, the news had been a shock, but he really should have seen this coming. So far he’d managed to cause problems in every other thing they’d let him participate in, including the entrance exam. It’s only natural they’d grow sick of it, he just didn’t know he’d screw things up so soon. 

“Out of concern for your safety, we thought it would be best if you didn’t participate in the sports festival. Your quirk is still new and it’s undergone some changes since the USJ incident and you haven’t had enough time to adjust. You’re still recovering, at least mentally, and I don’t want you pushing yourself the way the sports festival requires. There’s also some concern that you may have made yourself a target during your fight with Shigaraki, and we don’t want you to be publicly exposed too much until we know more about the situation. Do you understand?”

He understood just fine. 

He’s weak, permanently handicapped, at least mentally, his quirk isn’t under control, and he had been stupid enough to provoke high-profile villains into fighting him. It’s really a wonder they hadn’t just expelled him. Maybe Aizawa just doesn’t want to expel him because he feels guilty that Izuku had jumped in when he was attacked. It’s more pity than it is potential at this point. He’ll probably wait until Izuku screws something else up so he doesn’t have to feel like the jerk that kicks a kid out for getting brain damage. He really should have seen this coming. It was only a matter of time. It’s not like he could ever really be a hero, but it had been a nice thought while it lasted. Hopefully Shinsou will still talk to him when it happens, not that he’d deserve it.  

He clears his throat past the painful knot that had begun to grow, the burning pressure behind his eyes telling him that he’s dangerously close to tears. Of course, he’s too weak to even think about everything without fucking crying. God, he’s pathetic.

He can hear the class talking and joking through the classroom door and he takes a deep breath. The door looks even taller than the first time he had seen it, or maybe he just feels smaller. He just needs to hold it together until it all falls apart on its own. It’s only a matter of time, but he’ll try and enjoy it while it lasts. Finally, he bites the bullet, opening the door and stepping inside with the best fake smile he can manage. 

“Midoriya!” Uraraka cheers from her position leaning over Shinsou’s desk. Izuku notices that Aizawa is curled up in the corner in his bright yellow sleeping bag, so they must have ended class a little early today, “Shinsou said you were at a meeting, it’s great to have you back!”

“Yeah, it’s great to be back,” He rubs his neck nervously, setting his bag by his desk with a soft thud. Belatedly, he realizes that he’s still holding his recorder. 

Uraraka’s eyes have already locked on it before he can hide it.

“What’s that thing?” At her question, Shinsou and Iida also look up, a knowing look crossing over Shinsou’s face, while Iida’s morphs into a mask of confusion.

“Yes, Midoriya, what is that?” Iida adjusts his glasses as though that would help him get a better look.

“Oh, this?” Izuku pretends not to have noticed it, “It’s just- uh- it’s-” He stumbles over his words. He needs a little bit of time before he discusses his Alexia again today. He still feels fragile and raw from his conversation with Recovery Girl, and he doubts he’ll be able to hold it together if they start asking questions now, “Tell you what, it’s kind of a long story, so I’ll explain at lunch if that’s okay.”

“Ooh, mysterious!” Uraraka croons gleefully. Shinsou gives him another look, and if Izuku didn’t know better, he would say it almost looked proud.

“Good idea, Midoriya, I’m sure Present Mic Sensei will be arriving any minute now, it would be best if we focus on preparing for class!” Iida announces, and Izuku has never been so happy to be friends with a total square in his life. 

“Right,” He takes his seat, pulling out his notebook even though it’s unlikely he’ll use it and setting his recorder where it’s out of view from most of the students.

Sure enough, Present Mic is bursting through the door a few seconds later with all his usual flare, sending Izuku a subtle nod as he sets his own recorder on the podium, out of sight. 

They had developed a system where Present Mic would point his pinky out if he was going to say something important or read the notes on the board so that Izuku could record the important parts and save himself the hassle of practically attending school twice every day to splice his recordings into useful notes. Present Mic would make a full recording of the lesson as well for a sort of backup in case he forgot to give a signal, or Izuku wanted to go back and record something he had missed. 

It was going to be an interesting class for sure.

---

Lunch comes far too soon for Izuku’s liking, but he keeps his word, following his friends to the cafeteria, his recorder still in hand. He’s not entirely sure why he brought it. He doesn’t need it to explain the situation, but it felt wrong to leave his hands empty. 

The cafeteria is loud, but not overwhelmingly so. The room was designed with the noise and crowds in mind, so it never got too bad, but that didn’t stop it from grating on Izuku’s nerves. It all just feels like so much. 

“So,” Uraraka sets her tray down with a more muted version of her usual smile, “What’s going on, Midoriya?”

What’s going on indeed. He pushes his tray back. His appetite has yet to make an appearance and the smell of the food makes his stomach hurt. He’ll just have to tell the truth and hope it goes well.

“I- I sustained some brain damage in the USJ fight,” He pauses to gather his thoughts, ignoring Uraraka’s little gasp and the way Iida leans forward, “I didn’t know it right away, of course, but apparently my brain had been swollen for too long and since I hadn’t even recovered from the training exercise with- with Bakugo- and it all sort of compounded. We didn’t know how it would present itself until the day I was discharged.  It’s called Alexia, it means I’ve lost the ability to read.”

“Midoriya, is that what happened yesterday? in Present Mic’s class?” Uraraka looks like she’s on the verge of tears and Izuku feels bad, but he nods.

“Yeah. I was hoping that the effects might be temporary and they would go away, but when I realized that I couldn’t read in front of the whole class, I kind of panicked.”

“That makes sense. Your quirk started acting up,” Izuku stares at her in confusion as she continues, “Shinsou told us that sometimes your quirk will activate if you feel threatened. He called it an ‘aura’ I think,” Shinsou nods, “It felt weird, like having fight or flight activated but not knowing why.”

“I’m so sorry-” so that’s what had happened. Not only had he freaked out and made a fool of himself, he had attacked the entire class with his quirk as well, “I- I didn’t realize-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Shinsou explained what was happening so no one panicked. We were mostly just worried about you. Shinsou tried to follow you, but Mic-sensei stopped him and insisted we give you some air.” Beside her, Shinsou blushes a little, turning to hide his face in his collar. 

“W-well I’m doing better now. I can still use this recorder to take notes, and the teachers record their classes for me as well as a backup.”

“Your dedication to your studies is admirable!” Iida exclaims, seeming to have recovered from his shock, “Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help!”

“I- thank you, Iida,” Izuku can’t help the surprise that leaks into his voice, “I really appreciate that.”

“Yeah,” Uraraka nods, “I’m more than happy to help. Maybe we can have our own study group!”

Izuku looks at Shinsou. He knows he’s supposed to start meeting with Kirishima and Kaminari for a study group soon. They’d probably be happy to join with more people.

“Wait-” Uraraka interrupts before Shinsou can say anything, “If you’re still recovering, will you be ready in time for the sports festival?”

Ah. There it is. The familiar stone of grim resignation sinking into his stomach. He should have known they’d ask about that. 

“Uh, no, not really,” He forces his voice to keep steady as he continues, “Recovery Girl spoke to me this morning. I won’t be allowed to participate in the sports festival.”

“What?” Shinsou finally speaks, “Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, why not?” Uraraka joins in, not noticing the slightly desperate look that Shinsou now wears. He never thought he’d have to go into the sports festival alone. 

“They say my quirk and injuries are too unpredictable,” He leaves out the part about maybe having made himself a target to a villain organization. That would be a great way to make sure Shinsou never let him out of his sight again, “They don’t want me to have to train that fast and risk any more damage.”

“It’s unfortunate that you won’t be able to participate, Midoriya, the sports festival is one of the main opportunities students have to make themselves known for internships and work studies.”

“Yeah,” Izuku struggles to keep his cheerful demeanor. It’s not like he has much of a future to be planning for at this point anyway, “It’s not great, but I’ll make it work. There’s always next year.” The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Right!” Uraraka cheers, “By then you’ll be so strong you’ll take them by surprise!”

Izuku smiles at her vote of confidence, but he can’t miss the devastated expression that crosses Shinsou’s face. He looks almost guilty, though Izuku can’t imagine why. 

“Just to be clear, Midoriya,” Iida says, “should we keep what we discussed here today a secret? I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position with the rest of the class.”

“Don’t worry about that. They’ll all find out eventually, and honestly I don’t feel like telling them, so feel free to share with whoever asks.”

“Sounds good,” Uraraka practically sighs, “The others have kind of been hounding us about you because Shinsou threatened them not to bother you.”

“Did he now?” Izuku flashes Shinsou a shit-eating grin and Shinsou returns a look of mortification.

Shinsou buries his face in his hands again as Uraraka laughs.

“Oh yeah, he had everyone shaking in their shoes. What was the phrase you used again?”

“Don’t-” Shinsou groans, but he’s too late.

“Oh yeah, ‘Bother him and I’ll teach you a new definition of fear.’” Uraraka growls out in her best impression of a livid Shinsou.

Shinsou groans again, his blush now rashes his ears as he slams his head against the table to hide it. Izuku is laughing too hard to feel bad for him. He can’t believe he actually said that.

“I thought you were trying to make friends with them, Hitoshi.” Izuku teases.

Shinsou just groans again.

“It was rather intimidating,” Iida adds, fixing his glasses again. Uraraka and Izuku dissolve into another fit of giggles at that, ignoring the way Shinsou tries to melt into the floor in embarrassment. 

---

It doesn’t take long for word to spread throughout the class. Izuku would have to be blind to miss all the looks thrown toward him and his recorder. Most of them seem pitying, though a few are merely curious. He doesn’t like it, but he doubts he’ll have to put up with it for long, so he just squares his jaw and pretends he doesn’t see it. 

Final bell comes as a saving grace, and Izuku is all too glad to gather his things up and finally head home. He falls into step beside Shinsou, but he’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder just as they reach the front steps of the building. To his surprise, it’s Tsuyu that stops him.

“Oh, hey Tsuyu, what’s going on?” Izuku asks, Shinsou turns as well, looking as confused as Izuku feels. 

“I- uh- would it be okay if I talked with you? Alone?” She looks nervous, which is strange. She’s always been so confident, so sure of herself. 

“Y- yeah, of course, uh-” Izuku gives Shinsou a look and he seems to catch on.

“I’ll wait for you at the station.” He assures.

Izuku gives him a thankful nod as he turns away, turning his attention back to Tsuyu.

“What’s going on, is everything okay?” She seems nervous and upset. Izuku can’t imagine what would prompt such a reaction in her, or why she would come to him about it. She had handled herself well at the USJ, so the thought of something that could rattle her is certainly concerning. 

“I’m sorry,” She croaks, finally looking him in the eye. He starts at the tears that are gathered there.

“W-what? What do you have to be sorry about?” Izuku splutters.

“At the USJ, I just left you behind. I should have gone back to help you. You shouldn’t have had to fight alone,” She takes a hitching breath and Izuku’s heart twists at the sight, none of that was her fault, “It’s my fault you got hurt so badly, and now you might never fully recover,” She bows deeply, “I’m sorry for failing you, Midoriya.”

“Whoah, whoah, hey,” He relaxes just a fraction when she finally comes out of the bow, staring at him curiously as she wipes her tears, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Tsu. You got Aizawa out of there like I asked and I couldn’t be more grateful for that. You were so brave. It was my choice and my choice alone to rush into a situation I wasn’t prepared for. I made a choice and I’ll deal with the consequences. I was prepared for something like this to happen when I launched my attack. You behaved like a real hero and got Mr. Aizawa to safety.”

“You didn’t even hesitate,” She nearly whispers, “You charged that monster like you had done it a hundred times before. You’re twice the hero I’ll ever be, Midoriya.” 

Izuku tries to keep from choking up as he continues. He doesn’t want Tsuyu to think any of the blame could be hers. The thought of her blaming herself makes his chest ache.

“Thank you, Tsu, but I wouldn’t bet on it,” He gives her the most genuine smile he’s managed that whole week, “With a heart like yours, I have no doubt you’re destined for greatness.”

“Thank you, Midoriya,” she croaks, a smile of her own breaking through her somber expression. Izuku’s shoulders relax just a fraction in response. He hadn't noticed how tense he had gotten at the thought of her being upset, “We’ll be heroes together.”

“Together,” Izuku agrees, ignoring the way his voice shakes, he turns a little toward the gates, “I should go now, Shinsou will be waiting.”

“Safe travels home, Midoriya.” She offers him a wave, turning away as well.

“Right, you too.”

---

When Izuku finally arrives at the station their train is already pulling in. Shinsou hooks an arm around his shoulders like he had that morning, and he swears he feels Izuku sink into it. 

“Was she okay?” He asks as they file into their car, sitting side by side.

“Yeah, she is now. She felt bad about the USJ.” This time Shinsou is certain that Izuku leans into him, but he doesn’t comment on it, choosing to focus on keeping his heartbeat under control instead. 

“Oh,” he settles on saying. He curses himself internally. Even with the warmth of Izuku pressed into his side, he feels like the distance between them is a chasm, filled with all the things he hasn’t had the courage to say. He wants to bridge the gap so badly. The thought of standing by, unaware, as Izuku suffers is intolerable.

But… right now Izuku is dozing off, the late afternoon light turning his white locks into gold, and Shinsou doesn’t have it in him to disrupt the tentative peace they’ve found. He lays his head back against the window behind them, ignoring the rattling of the train car. 

They’ll figure this out.

Chapter Text

“Any questions?” Aizawa finishes, passing his tired eyes over his class. They stay quiet, and he’s eternally grateful that they want to get out of here just as much as he does, “Good. If anyone has any other questions or concerns about the sports festival, feel free to reach out to me or one of the other teachers. Dismissed.”

He huddles into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes. This time he actually does fall asleep, until the ruckus at the door brings him out of it.

---

Izuku likes to think of himself as a patient person, however, he also has limits. This is scraping dangerously against those limits.

“Ah, the infamous class 1-A,” Some blonde kid drawls, the crowd around him apparently belonging to the other heroics class, though there seemed to be too many of them for just the other class. Either way, the idiots had completely blocked the exit, and Izuku was so not in the mood for this bullshit after having to sit through yet another lecture on the details for the upcoming sports festival that he wouldn’t even be allowed to participate in. Add that to the fact that his recorder hadn’t charged last night and he’d had to take notes that he couldn’t read (he’ll get Shinsou to read them for the recording later, but it’s a pain in the ass), and he’s just about at his limit. 

Unfortunately, the universe has yet to change it’s opinion of him, and the annoying blonde kid continues to speak. Izuku seems to have particularly bad luck when it comes to avoiding annoying blondes.

“They say you guys survived a villain attack, but you don’t look so tough to me.”

Deep breaths.

“Do they even count as real villains if you all could defeat them? I mean, come on.”

Focus on your senses, keep yourself under control.

“I bet you wanted to get attacked so you could have all the glory, huh?”

Oh, fuck this.

“Izu-” Izuku shrugs Shinsou off, marching right up to the kid, his aura spilling from him, unbidden. 

The guy shrinks back a little at Izuku’s approach, the weight of his aura pressing down on him, but his stupid grin doesn’t fade.

“And who are you? Rudolph?”

There it is. The straw that broke the camel's back. 

Izuku laughs. A broken, hysterical laugh. Eerily similar to the one he had used against Aizawa during the assessment. This time though, he’s not acting. 

The crowd backs off in his peripheral, leaving him and blondy in their own little bubble of space.

“Wha-” The kid starts, but Izuku interrupts him.

“Do you know what it feels like when your flesh atomizes?”

“What?” Izuku is smiling at him, but there’s no light in it. His aura grows heavier.

“Because I do.” Izuku pulls back the compression sleeve he has been wearing on his left arm. No one except himself and his mother had seen this scar. It's an angry red, sunken half a centimeter into his arm, warped and twisted almost like a burn where his flesh had tried to heal over itself. They hadn’t even had enough time to try and attempt a graft while they were fighting his brain swelling.

“I couldn’t bleed fast enough to keep my deep tissue nerve endings from being exposed to the air.” Izuku’s smile is not a smile at all now, it is a baring of teeth, “It didn’t heal as pretty as everything else. They couldn’t waste time on a skin graft because I was bleeding into my own brain.”

The kid takes a minuscule step back, his face paling as his smile fades away. Izuku grabs him by the front of his uniform, pulling him face to face, but being careful not to let his palm come into contact with him.

“I have stared into the gaping maw of death,” He’s practically whispering now, hissing the words between his teeth, “We all have,” He gestures back toward his own classmates, who watch on with fear. Not fear of Izuku, but fear for Izuku. Fear for what had happened to him when they turned away that day, “So forgive me if I am not amused by your taunts. We did not want to face off against villains for glory and praise. We wanted to survive long enough to save each other, to give the pros time to arrive,” Izuku takes a breath, reeling his aura in, forcing himself to calm down, “Taunt me all you want. Call me whatever funny names you think will make you look strong and clever, but don’t you dare disrespect my classmates. They’re the only reason no one died that day. I owe them my life.”

“Izuku,” The hand on his shoulder is warm, Shinsou gently pulling him back. Izuku let Monoma go, the other boy stumbling back a bit, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Izuku agrees, allowing Shinsou to lead him through the crowd that parts easily to let them through, most far too eager to get out of Izuku’s path. Uraraka and Iida trail behind them, and Izuku refuses to look back.

He doesn’t see Aizawa behind him, behind his class, watching Izuku go with a look of profound sadness.

---

The day of the sports festival comes sooner than Shinsou would have liked. He and Izuku had been training all week (under the watchful eye of Inko) in order to make sure Shinsou was in peak condition. They’d even managed to improve some of his hand-to-hand skills, which he hopes he won’t have to use too much. Neither of them had spoken about the incident with the other class, and there seemed to be a silent agreement among class 1-A to leave it be. 

His parents had called while he and Izuku had been on the train that morning, letting him know how proud they were and that they would be watching the whole time. It felt weird for some reason. He’s seen them a bit more since school started, and he loves them, but he’s starting to feel like they’re strangers. Closer to grandparents or an aunt and uncle than his actual parents. He’s not sure when the shift began, but it makes him feel vaguely sick. 

For a very long time, his parents had been all he had, especially after his quirk came in, but suddenly they’re just a background influence. The transition had been slow, starting maybe two years ago as their careers picked up and he got used to the house being empty more than he saw it full. He’d had to get used to them not being there, he had to accept it even if he didn’t think he could stand the silence. Then he met Izuku and Inko and his world wasn’t so quiet anymore. Suddenly he preferred family dinners at their house to his own. 

He loves his parents, and they love him. He knows that. But… that doesn’t make silence any less loud. It doesn’t make the Midoriya’s house any less warm. 

Shinsou pointedly refuses to think about what could have happened if he hadn’t been found by Izuku on that beach so many months ago. He’s nearly certain he wouldn’t have survived. 

He shakes his head, bringing himself out of his thoughts. The cheer of the crowd echoes through their tunnel as they wait for their signal from Present Mic. The class murmurs amongst themselves as they wait, Izuku leaning against the wall beside him. 

Izuku had been quieter than usual today. 

Shinsou knows why, of course, because as soon as they’ve made their entrance and heard the athletes pledge, they would all continue on while Izuku went to his place in the stands. His hands feel clammy at the thought of delivering the athletes pledge himself, but his nerves are overshadowed by his worry for his friend. 

“You ready for this?” He asks.

“Are you? ” Izuku shoots back with a half-hearted smirk.

Ah, he should have seen that coming. Izuku is a master of deflection.

“Yeah, it’s just a speech in front of thousands of people. What could go wrong?”

“Right,” Izuku snorts, setting a hand on his shoulder, “No reason to be worried at all.”

“Exactly.” Shinsou agrees with a nod. Some of the tension melts from his shoulders as he falls into familiar banter with Izuku. This never failed to make him feel better (but his goal was to make Izuku feel better). 

“You remember your strategy training?” Izuku asks with a smile.

“Ugh,” Shinsou groans, remembering the countless hours Izuku had made him watch previous sports festivals to prepare him for possible events. He’d guided him through situational analysis exercises, attack deflections, schooled him on all the ways he could use their classmate’s quirks to his advantage, and drilled the most effective strategies for every possible event based on what the winners had done previously. It had been hideously thorough, “I wish I could forget.”

Izuku laughs, but it cuts off suddenly as another student steps in front of them.

“Midoriya,” Todorki says, a hardened look in his eyes that sets Shinsou on edge, “I need to speak with you.”

“Uh, okay,” Izuku just stares, waiting for the other boy to speak. Instead, Todoroki sends a side-eyed glare at Shinsou.

“Alone.” He says, and Shinsou decides that he doesn’t like this guy.

“Alright,” Izuku waves him further into the tunnel, and Shinsou watches them go until they’re out of hearing range, sighing and leaning back against the wall. He has no idea what the weird peppermint-looking guy could want with Izuku, but he doesn’t like it.

A few minutes pass and Izuku finally comes back, Todorki brushing past them to go back to his original position. Izuku’s shoulders are tense, his expression a weird mix between angry and worried, but before Shinsou can ask what all of that was about, Present Mic’s voice rings through the arena.

“CLASS 1-A OF THE HERO COURSE! THEY’VE ALREADY PROVED THEMSELVES THIS YEAR, SURVIVING A VILLAIN ATTACK AT THE USJ!”

Shinsou does his best not to cringe at that, but it sounds so much like the tone Monoma had used to speak about it almost a week ago. He knows they need to make a show of strength, but he really wishes they didn’t have to use a bunch of kids to do it. 

Dutifully, their class marches forward. Shinsou’s legs feel numb, but he plasters on what he hopes look more like a smile than a grimace, and fights the urge to cover his ears in response to the deafening cries of the audience. Izuku doesn’t look much better off, the other boy opting to stare at the ground as he marches to keep his face hidden from the cameras. 

For the hundredth time, Shinsou curses himself for not having the guts to make Izuku talk to him. In all that time they spent prepping Shinsou for the festival, he should have at least tried to get Izuku to talk about how he felt. 

He sighs, steeling himself as they get into position and the other classes are announced. There’s still time. He can talk to him between events, he’ll make sure he’s actually okay.

He swears his legs have fallen asleep as he makes his way up to the podium at Midnight’s signal. He nearly stumbles on the steps, taking deep, deliberate breaths to calm himself down. He can do this. It’s just words. 

He stares out at the crowd, thousands of eyes watching him expectantly. He turns from them, searching the crowd for that familiar white hair, locking with those brilliant green eyes. Izuku gives him a small smile, and some of the tension leaks out of him. Suddenly it doesn’t matter that there are thousands of people, because he knows at least one will be happy no matter what he says. 

“I am Shinsou Hitoshi of class 1-A,” He starts, voice surprisingly steady, “And I look forward to seeing just how much we’re capable of. Go beyond! Plus ultra!” 

He raises his fist with the cheer, the students joining in. The crowd goes wild, even though it hadn’t really been much of a speech, and he looks to Midnight for permission to leave. She gives him a nod and he happily descends the stairs to take his place with his class. Izuku knocks his shoulder lightly, flashing him a quick smile as Midnight continues.

“And with that, let the games begin!”

Chapter Text

Izuku doesn’t look back as he heads back into the tunnel, the roar of the screaming crowd and students stuck in the bottleneck by the exit echoing off the concrete walls in a curtain of noise. He almost misses it when it fades as he turns the corner. Its absence makes his thoughts seem louder.

He turns back towards the locker rooms, a small twinge of guilt forming in his stomach. Shinsou is competing right now and he promised him he’d watch, but if he doesn’t get some peace and quiet he might just lose it. 

With a sigh, he settles down on one of the benches, the distant rumble of the competition a constant reminder of just how isolated he’s become from his classmates. Sure, he’s always been a little different. Okay, a lot different. But… he had hoped that it would be better here. He has friends, people that care about him, but for how much longer? That stupid stunt he pulled with that class 1-B kid certainly didn’t paint him in a friendly light, add that to the fact that he now can’t even fucking read, he’s on a whole different skill level in training, can’t even participate in group training and events like this, and the chasm between him and everyone else just keeps growing wider. 

Hell, even Todoroki saw it.

“We all know that you’re actually the one to beat.”

“What?” Izuku laughed, “Last I checked Shinsou was firmly top of the class.”

“You and I both know that those rankings don’t matter. Shinsou isn’t the one who held his own against a beast designed to kill All Might as a first-year. I don’t think they would have allowed you to compete in the festival whether you were injured or not, honestly.”

“Wh-what? Todoroki, that doesn’t-”

“Think about it, after an attack like that, they can’t let their first years look bad by adding an overpowered kid into the mix. How confident would the public be in our strength if you were out there making everyone look weak?”

“I think you’re severely overestimating-”

“No. I saw it all, Midoriya. I was in the mountain zone, I could see everything from up there. I saw you decimate the villains in the shipwreck zone. I was certain that you had overdone it, that that was the peak of your ability, but then you charged the villains on the plaza like it was nothing. No hesitation, no fear. You didn’t see it, but you nearly killed that beast before you collapsed. All Might barely even had to try against it.”

“I almost died Todoroki! What do you mean ‘no fear’? Of course I was afraid! There’s no possible way I would be able to use that kind of power for the sports festival without killing myself. I was only able to do that because there were lives at stake!”

“And yet you did do it, didn’t you?”

“Why are you talking to me about this?”

“Have you heard of quirk marriages?”

“Huh?”

Todoroki had told him a story that made his stomach hurt. Even now, the thought of it is horrifying, though not as immediately worrying as what came next.

“My father raised me to surpass All Might, to become the number one hero. With power like yours, you’ll be my test. I will defeat you. If not now, then soon. And I’ll do it without using any power of his. ” he sneers the last word and Izuku can only gape at him for a moment.

“Todoroki, what-”

“Consider this a declaration of war.”

So, not only had he managed to drive a wedge between himself and everyone else in the class, he’d somehow managed to make an enemy out of quite possibly the most powerful kid as well. Add that to the fact that said kid could potentially be right about why he wasn’t allowed to participate in the sports festival, and, well-

Izuku takes a deep breath, leaning his head back against the cool concrete wall. Right now he just needs to pull himself together enough to get out there and cheer for his best friend. He’ll figure out the rest later.

He pushes himself up, ignoring the wave of vertigo that rises with him. That had been happening ever since the USJ, and as annoying as it is, it’s nothing too difficult to handle. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like it will affect his combat abilities and it fades rather quickly.

The noise of the arena is about as pleasant as he expected it to be. The sun is irritatingly bright, but he just grits his teeth and waits for his eyes to adjust. On the giant screens in the center of the stadium footage of the obstacle course flashes by. The robots from the entrance exam are swallowed by a wave of ice, as well as a good portion of the other competitors. However, to Izuku’s glee, one camera cuts away to show Shinsou finishing his scale of the stadium wall, standing high above the now-frozen crowd. 

They had prepared for this event, and as much as Shinsou complained about having to do all the situational analysis exercises, Izuku is pretty certain he’s glad he had. In a stroke of what is either mad genius or a terrifying lack of self-preservation, Shinsou smiles as he watches the giant zero-pointer fall, waits until its head swings close to the entrance gate, and jumps .

Izuku holds his breath. Shinsou’s fall seems to take forever, an eternity of panic as it looks like he won’t be able to make the jump. Finally, blessedly, he lands, gripping onto the bots head as he swings himself on top of it, running across it’s back as it crashes to the ground. At the last second, he jumps to the side as it makes impact, swinging himself up onto the frozen side of another bot, scrambling to use the tops of Todoroki’s ice walls as his own personal walkway while the other contenders struggle to climb them and escape the destabilized bots. 

Izuku laughs as Present Mic scrambles to announce what’s happening.

“IN A STUNNING DISPLAY OF SKILL SHINSOU HITOSHI OF CLASS 1-A PULLS AHEAD!”

Shinsou is by no means leading the pack, but he’s firmly within the front twenty, along with a lot of class 1-A and weirdly enough, some girl from the support course who is cackling madly all the way. Izuku isn’t entirely sure why, but he feels a strange sense of respect for her. 

About halfway through the ropes section of the course, Izuku hears a familiar shuffling behind him. He’d know those footsteps anywhere. Thankfully, Bakugo settles in the corner farthest from him, so Izuku doesn’t even have to look away from the displays, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep a constant peripheral tab on where the other boy is. He notices every shift, every movement, every potential threat.

He only manages to fully ignore him when Shinsou begins the most insane plan that Izuku has ever had the pleasure of witnessing. He bites his lip as he watches Shinsou dig up mines in the corner of one of the cameras, stacking them into a pile. There are so many ways this plan could go wrong. They never went over improvised explosives, pyrotechnics, or munitions, and yet here Shinsou is, taking otherwise harmless mines, and adding them together to multiply their power to a devastating degree. For as many ways this plan could go wrong, Izuku can’t help but sit forward at the thought of just how spectacularly this could go right .

He nearly has a heart attack when Shinsou takes up a piece of rubble he had been toting with him, wielding it like a strange mix between a shield and a sled. Without a hint of hesitation, he jumps directly onto the now-deadly pile of mines, rocketing himself into the air. For a terrifying second, the pink smoke obscures the cameras, blocking any view of Shinsou,  but finally, finally, it clears, and Shinsou is flying over the heads of everyone, still entirely intact. 

He soars through the air as though he had been doing it his whole life and Izuku can’t help the way his jaw drops. Shinsou braces for impact, coming down on another mine. It’s enough to launch him one last time. He swings his shield, taking out Todoroki, and propelling himself over the finish line. 

“SHINOSOU HITOSHI OF CLASS 1-A IS THE FIRST TO REACH THE FINISH LINE!” 

Izuku can’t even hear his own hollering over the thunderous cry of the audience. Shinsou stumbles into the arena with a wide (almost feral) grin, and Izuku swears he’s looking his way. Todoroki enters only seconds later, already fuming. Izuku can’t help but smile even wider at that. It serves him right for underestimating Shinsou. Izuku may be strong, but Shinsou is top of the class for a reason.

Pretty soon the other contenders spill into the arena, the top forty or so getting to move on to the next stage. Bakugo shuffles behind him but makes no comment, so Izuku opts to pretend he isn’t there as the next event is announced. 

A cavalry race!

… and Shinsou is worth ten million points.

Shinsou seems to realize this at the same time as Izuku, his triumphant expression falling into something panicked, almost hunted-looking.

The other contenders realize it too, turning on him with hungry eyes. 

With that, Midnight announces the break.

---

Ten million points.

Fuck.

The others turn to him, their expressions varying from interest to greed to malice. Is this how Izuku felt before he got his quirk? Shinsou had always been shunned, but he had never been prey, not truly. They fought him and lashed out because they were afraid, paranoid, but not because he was powerless to stop them. 

This certainly explains why Izuku has such nervous tendencies. 

Shinsou resists the urge to shrink into himself in an attempt to hide. He fixes his expression back to his usual bored disinterest, fighting against the panic that rises up his throat. He can handle this, he just has to stay calm and think of a plan. What would Izuku do?

“Shinsou! Let’s team up!” Uraraka comes bounding over, her smile as bright as ever. Shinsou has never been so happy to see her.

“Uh y-yeah, absolutely!” He resists the urge to ask her if she’s sure. She wouldn’t offer if she weren’t.

“Great! Now we just need a couple more people!” She turns to scan the surrounding contestants. She must see something because she promptly grabs him by the arm and drags him through the crowd.

“Iida!” She calls, “Join our team!”

“Ah, Uraraka, Shinsou,” He greets them as he always does, though there’s something hesitant in his expression, “I’m sorry, but I believe it would be best if I were to expand my abilities on some other team. I’m already familiar with the two of you.”

“O-oh,” Uraraka sounds disappointed, but she recovers quickly, “Okay, I understand. It’s good to push yourself to do new things!”

“Good luck, Iida,” Shinsou offers his hand to Iida, who gives him a look of surprise before he takes it.

“Good luck, Shinsou,” Iida takes it with a smile, releasing him and turning back to the field where the contestants have already begun to group up.

Shinsou watches him go before turning back to Uraraka, the beginnings of a plan already forming. 

“We should take a page out of his book. We’ll need to make some unexpected team-ups if we want to win this. We’ll need some surprises on our side.”

“All we really need to do to win is avoid getting caught, right?”

“Yes, but we won’t be going against the other teams equally like everyone else. Chances are they’ll work together, even accidentally, to immobilize us. With your quirk, we already have a leg up, but we’ll need some surprises for when we end up cornered.” Shinsou scans the crowd, noting the strange pink-haired girl shoving her way between people, apparently looking for someone.

“You kind of sound like Izuku right now,” Uraraka says with a hint of a laugh, “You two have been together so long you’re turning into the same person.”

Shinsou feels the traitorous heat of a blush burning his face.

“We- we’re not together-”

“You know what I mean,” Uraraka really is laughing now, “Though, we have seen the way you two look at each other. Mina says it’s only a matter of time. I’m pretty sure there’s a betting pool going on it.”

“There’s a what ?” Shinsou squeaks, his voice cracking as he chokes on the new information. Was he that obvious? Wait- did Uraraka say ‘you two’?!

“You!” The pink-haired girl he had spotted earlier is now firmly within his personal space, “Team up with me!”

“What?”

“I need to show off my babies and you’re the best way to do it, Mr. Ten Million! Everyone’s eyes will be on you and I plan to use that for my personal gain!”

“Whoah, what- babies?” Uraraka seems just as lost as Shinsou.

“Yes! My babies! I’m Hatsume Mei from the support course!” She offers a remarkably dirty hand, smudged with what appears to be motor oil and gear grease. When Shinsou hesitates, she closes the distance, catching his hand in a crushingly-firm grip, “I think I’ve got just what you need to win this!”

She opens a smudged and burnt notebook, flipping through the thoroughly scribbled pages until she comes to whatever she’s looking for.

“Here! A mobility solution for our team, courtesy of Hatsume Industries!”

The writing on the page is completely illegible, but the diagram is clear. It’s some form of a jetpack. 

“I have this one ready to go! Come on, I’ll show you everything else I’ve got!”

“Wait-” Uraraka catches the girl by the arm before she can dart into the stands, “We still need to get one more person. We wouldn’t want to leave them out of seeing your- uh- babies.”

“Good point!” Hatsume practically shouts, “How about him?”

Shinsou follows where she’s pointing, and there stands the very familiar profile of Tokoyami. If the USJ was anything to go off of, Shinsou would love to have Tokoyami on his side.

“Perfect, let’s ask him.”

Shinsou leads his strange little pack over, waving to get the other boy’s attention. Tokoyami turns, a small smile forming when he sees that it’s Shinsou who is approaching. So far so good.

“Hey, Tokoyami! We need another person and we’d love to have you, what do you say?”

Tokoyami’s smile grows a little.

“I’d be honored to fight with you again, Shinsou.” He bows a little and Shinsou tries not to blush at the formality.

“Awesome, Uraraka will be with us,” Uraraka offers a smile and a wave, “and so will Hatsume from the support course.”

Hatsume, in lieu of smiling, waving, or introducing herself, immediately walks up to Tokoyami and grabs him by the face, turning him this way and that.

“Wha-” Tokoyami starts, but he’s cut off by Hatsume who is practically vibrating with excitement.

“How do your sight and smell compare to the average person?”

“I- I’m not completely su-”

“Fascinating!” Hatsume cries as she finally lets him go, stepping back only to thrust out a grease-smeared hand, “Hatsume Mei of Hatsume Industries! Nice to meet you!”

“I- I’m Tokoyami,” He takes her hand cautiously, “Nice to meet you as well.” 

“Come on!” Hatsume crows, turning toward the tunnel leading out, still holding Tokoyami’s hand, dragging him behind her, “You have to meet my babies!”

“Her what ?” Tokoyami asks, eyes going wide.

Uraraka laughs in response, following them toward the tunnel. Shinsou keeps pace with her, fighting his own smile as Tokoyami starts looking a little desperate.

“Okay, seriously, what is she talking about?” 

Shinsou fights back a laugh, “Her inventions, Tokoyami. She is in the support course, after all.”

“Yes! You’re going to love my babies!”

“Does she have to call them that?” Tokoyami sounds strained.

“What else would I call them?”

---

Team Ten Million (as Uraraka and Hatsume had dubbed their group) gets into position as Midnight calls out the countdown. Shinsou fiddles with the clunky metal mouthpiece thing Hatsume had given him. She had called it a voice modulator, her theory being that people would be more likely to respond to him if they didn’t know it was him who was talking. This way, even when they figure out his quirk, he’ll be able to get them. 

That, paired with the retractable shield and jetpack, means that Shinsou is full of surprises, just as he had intended. Hatsume, though she may be a little bit much, knows what she’s doing.

“... Three! Two! One! Go!”

Immediately, three teams charge their way.

“Alright, evasive maneuvers, just like we discussed!”

“Space cadet?” Uraraka calls back.

“You got it!” Shinsou responds, firing up the jet pack as Uraraka’s quirk takes hold. To reduce her strain Tokoyami is using dark shadow to hold himself up, Hatsume is using her levitating boots, and Shinsou is using the jetpack, which doubles as a steering method. With any luck, Uraraka will be able to go the whole game without getting too exhausted.

“Hold on!” He calls, shooting them up above their competitors at the last second, causing two of the three charging teams to go down in a giant tumble, disqualifying them.

“Whoo!” Uraraka cheers as Midnight calls them off the field.

“- AREN’T THEY JUST FULL OF SURPRISES! WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING THESE KIDS, ERASERHEAD?”

“I didn’t teach them that,” Aizawa mumbles back. Shinsou had almost forgotten that he was supposed to be commentating as well, “They’ve had potential since the beginning.”

“AW, ERASERHEAD!”

“Shut up, Mic.”

“OH? LOOKS LIKE TODOROKI HAS FROZEN FOUR TEAMS AT ONCE! THEY’RE COMPLETELY IMMOBILIZED! HE’S COLLECTING THEIR HEADBANDS WITHOUT ANY RESISTANCE!”

Shinsou looks down, and sure enough, a good portion of the field is encased in ice. Todoroki’s power, incredible and seemingly endless, is the greatest threat to them out there. Based on the glare the other boy had sent his way after the obstacle course, Shinsou can guess that Todoroki intends to defeat him. He can’t allow that to happen.

He fastens the voice modulator around his face. It fits almost perfectly, the sliding plates clinking softly as he adjusts the knobs to increase his resonance, heighten his voice slightly, and increase the volume.

“Test” Shinsou mumbles, in a voice eerily similar to Present Mic’s. Oh yeah, this is going to be great. When this is all over, Hatsume is going to have a customer for life. Shinsou has found his first support item.

“LOOKS LIKE TODOROKI’S TOO SCARED TO PUT UP A FAIR FIGHT!”

--

“Mic, what are you-”

“HUH?!” The real Mic scrambles with his microphone, turning it off as he turns to Aizawa.

“What was that, Sho? It wasn’t me!”

“What do you mean it wasn’t-”

“HE GOT IN ON RECOMMENDATION, TOO! HE NEVER TOOK THE ENTRANCE EXAM LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! COULD HE BE JUST ANOTHER CASE OF DADDY’S MONEY?”

“Oh my god,” Aizawa murmurs, looking past Mic and into the arena.

“What? What is it, villains?”

“No,” Aizawa fights a laugh, “It’s Shinsou.”

“ WHAT?! ”

--

“Shut up!” Todoroki growls, glaring up at the commentator’s booth.

“Gotcha,” Shinsou takes control, shifting the modulator so now it’s his regular voice, just much louder.

“Freeze the field.” He commands, a headache forming as Todoroki resists the command. Getting to the point where he could get people to use their quirks while under his control had been difficult, and even now it takes massive amounts of concentration, but it’s worth it.

The crowd gasps as they catch up with what’s going on. Todoroki’s ice spills across the field, capturing the legs of all the other teams, immobilizing, but not disqualifying them. Todoroki breaks free of his control with a snarl, glaring up at Shinsou, who simply waves. If he was able to break out by using his quirk, then that means there’s some sort of pain associated with its use. That means Todoroki does have a limit, and he’s fast approaching it. Things just got interesting.

---

Ten minutes later, it’s all over. Team Ten Million, haggard and exhausted, still hold their ten million points in addition to the many headbands they captured, putting them firmly at the top, followed by Todoroki’s team.

They collapse in a pile, sluggishly untangling their limbs from one another and stretching out the muscles that have frozen up from being in the same position for too long. 

“I’m so glad that’s over,” Shinsou groans, finally removing the jetpack that continues to leak an alarming amount of smoke. 

“That was great!” Hatsume yells, leaning over him so she blocks out the sun, “My babies did so well, right?”

“You’re a damn genius, Hatsume,” He unbuckles the retractable shield, setting it beside the jetpack as he begins to loosen the voice modulator, “When this is all over we need to talk. I’ll be needing your help with some things.”

Hatsume grins impossibly wider, snatching up the jetpack, cracking open a panel on the side, and reaching in. Shinsou has no idea what she did, but the smoke stops.

“Oh, you got it, Ten Million. I’ve already got more ideas for your support items.”

“You’re fantastic,” He hauls himself up with a grunt, turning to lend Uraraka a hand, who’s looking just a little green.

“Yep! Well, I’ll be off now, see ya!” Before anyone can respond she’s halfway across the stadium, so they just watch her go.

“She’s not the only genius here. Your strategies were incredible, Shinsou.” Tokoyami adds, dark shadow popping up over his shoulder to crow “Yeah!”

“Thanks, but it wasn’t all me. Izuku has been training me all week to prepare for this. I doubt I’d have made it this far if not for him,” Shinsou looks up to the stands, scanning their section of the bleachers for that familiar shock of white hair. He frowns when he doesn’t find it.

“Yes. It’s a shame he couldn’t compete himself. Is he recovering well?” Tokoyami follows his gaze, noting his worry.

“Yeah, a damn shame,” Shinsou sighs, “I think he’s doing better. He’s not the kind of guy to really talk about his feelings all that much, though, so it can be difficult to tell.”

“Has he always been like that?” Uraraka asks, seeming to have mostly recovered from her nausea.

“Like what?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain. He’s not quiet or anything, but it always seems like he’s holding something back. It’s like he’s always hiding, like there’s some big unspeakable thing just under the surface.”

Shinsou turns to her with wide eyes. He had never been able to put his finger on it, but she’s right. Izuku always seems like he’s hiding something big and heavy. He had noticed it when they first met, but when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to go pouring his soul out, Shinsou had just gotten used to it. He’d always thought maybe the guy was anxious or something, but he had never really wondered what it was that made him so withdrawn. 

“Well, yeah. Now that I think of it, he’s always kind of been like that. I think it makes him anxious when people know about his vulnerabilities. He was bullied back in middle school, so it kind of makes sense if you think about it.”

“Oh,” Uraraka’s gaze drops with sadness.

“But Midoriya is so kind and smart and powerful, why would they bully him?” Tokoyami frowns in confusion.

“He wasn’t always like that. His quirk came in late because it required a traumatic stress trigger. He got hit by a car about a year ago, just a week before we met. He’s lived the majority of his life quirkless.”

Tokoyami’s frown deepens, but he nods in understanding. Shinsou shifts nervously, the air suddenly filled with a tense sadness.

“Right,” He takes a deep breath, “I look forward to competing with you two in the next round. I’m going to go find the nerd and make him eat. With all the heroes in here, I doubt he’s even taken bathroom breaks from his note-taking. I’d be surprised if he hasn’t tried to get half the stadium to sign those books of his.”

“Wait,” Uraraka squints in thought, “If he can’t read, how does he take the notes?”

“Oh, he can still write, I don’t really get it, but it’s some kind of weird brain stuff. He still writes in his notebooks, just not as much as before because he has to have someone read them aloud for his note tapes. I think he finds it embarrassing to ask.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Good luck!” Uraraka waves him off, her and Tokoyami turning back to watch the other competitors and discuss their theories. 

Shinsou turns back to the tunnel, letting out a breath of relief as the noise fades when he turns the corner. The back of his neck still prickles with the feeling of being watched by hundreds of eyes, but he shakes it off. 

He wanders toward the stairs that let out into the student section of the stands, but stops when a familiar voice echoes down the empty hallway. He inches closer, now able to pinpoint the small side-tunnel the voices are coming from.

“-How dare you insinuate that he isn’t-” Izuku’s voice is raised, a rare occurrence. Even stranger, a deeper voice cuts him off.

“I know you had something to do with it. I saw him at the USJ, he didn’t fight like that. He didn’t think like that. I’ve only seen that confidence in one other person, and that’s you.”

Shinsou holds his breath. He recognized the other voice now as Todoroki, and he doesn’t have to guess who they’re talking about.

“You underestimate him.” Izuku's voice is low, laced with steel, “Your inability to recognize the strength of your opponent will be your downfall, not anything of my doing.”

“So he just magically developed the ability to strategize like that?” Todoroki’s voice is clipped, frustrated, and confused.

“No. He worked for it.”

“It doesn’t make sense. He shouldn’t have been able to do that-”

“Do what? Win?”

“No, he- I- I almost broke my vow. He almost made me break my vow. During the cavalry battle, I nearly lost control against him, and that wasn’t even when he used his quirk on me.”

“Good.” Izuku’s voice is a bit softer now, but it hasn’t entirely lost its edge, “Your vow is bullshit.”

“How can you say that when you know- ”

“What? That your dad is a sack of dicks?”

“I-”

“You aren’t your father Todoroki-”

“Of course I’m not-”

“No part of you is your father!” Izuku raises his voice again, drowning out Todoroki’s protests, “Your quirk is your own, your power is your own. Just like Shinsou. He won’t hold back. You can’t beat him if you won’t give everything you’ve got.”

“I have to-”

“Why? Why do you let him control you like this? Why should he dictate what parts of you you will and will not recognize? You’re your own person.”

“That’s not what’s happening here!” Todoroki’s voice wavers, almost as though he were close to tears. Shinsou can’t even imagine his usually stoic classmate looking anything like that. 

“Isn’t it?” Izuku’s voice softens, “Todoroki, you’re not the only person who has a complicated relationship with their quirk-”

“What, like you?” Todoroki scoffs, and there’s silence for a moment.

“Yeah,” Izuku nearly whispers, “Like me.”

“What-?”

“I died, you know,” Izuku’s voice is even, but thin, “I died and woke up with a power I never dreamed of possessing and it terrifies me. I cheated death. I made a choice and I-”

Izuku cuts off with a choking noise.

“I- I got in an accident. I was stupid. I cheated death and I came out of it like this. Every day I feel like the other shoe is going to drop and it’s all going to be ripped away from me. I worry that the universe made a mistake and it’s only a matter of time before it is rectified. This quirk can tear my body apart, can tear a person’s soul apart. There’s a reason I wear these gloves.”

Shinsou holds his breath. He knew Izuku struggled with his quirk, just like he did, but he didn’t realize it was still so bad. 

“But I’m not the only one,” Izuku’s voice is a low soft murmur, “Hitoshi- Shinsou- he’s suffered because of his quirk his entire life. People called him a villain, hurt him, ostracized him. He has every reason to resent his power, but he’s out there giving everything he has because that’s what heroes do. He can’t save others when he’s busy fighting a part of himself, and neither can you. If you’re going to be the number one hero, hell, if you’re going to be any hero at all, you have to do it on your own terms.”

“I can’t- it’s his- ”

“No. It’s your power, Todoroki. And you’ll need to see that too if you have any chance of holding your own against Shinsou. I think the least you owe your opponents is the respect to return the same effort they’re bringing to the match. They deserve it, and so do you.”

“It makes me sick. ” Todoroki’s voice is choked with emotion now.

“I know. I- I’m not great around fire myself, but you can’t keep denying a piece of yourself. You are your own person, no matter what that looks like. Show them that. Make sure they can’t forget it.”

“Midoriya, I’m sorr-”

“I’ll leave you to prepare,” Izuku clears his throat, his footsteps growing clearer as he nears the entrance to the main tunnel. 

Shinsou ducks back into an alcove, holding his breath as he passes. He waits until he hears Todoroki leave as well, headed in the opposite direction, before he finally emerges back into the tunnel himself. 

Well, that was… 

Worrying.

Chapter Text

By the time Shinsou finally gets back to the student section of the stands, Izuku has already settled in again with his notebook, but he isn’t writing. He’s just staring down at it, his shoulders trembling the slightest bit. His eyes are wide, too wide. Something tells him that Izuku isn’t seeing the notebook at all.

“Hey,” He puts a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, trying to pretend not to notice the way he flinches at the touch, “You okay?”

“Me?” Izuku turns around with a bright smile, but his hands are shaking, “Yeah I’m great! Your team was incredible!”

Shinsou knows he should have expected this. It’s not like Izuku is ever prone to being open with him. He’s never been prone to being open with anyone, or so he thought. He knows it’s irrational, but he almost feels jealous of Todoroki. Why can’t Izuku just talk to him? Shinsou sighs, not even trying to hide his disappointment at Izuku’s redirection.

“Subject change,” He points out, settling down next to him. He hadn’t used that phrase for a few months now. He didn’t think he would have to after knowing each other this long.

“What do you mean?” Izuku blinks at him and Shinsou’s frown deepens.

“You’re not okay.”

Izuku freezes a little at that, but his hands continue to tremble where they rest atop his notebook on his lap. The page is empty.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He smiles again, but this time Shinsou sees the way he tries to force it to his eyes, the tiredness gathered there. Has he been sleeping enough?

“Because,” Shinsou reaches out, stilling his hands, “You’re shaking.”

Izuku stares down at their connected hands for a long moment, seemingly frozen. His smile finally begins to fade. Normally, Shinsou would be a little embarrassed, but he doesn’t let himself pull away. 

“I drank too much coffee this morning.” It’s a half-hearted lie and they both know it.

“Tell me the real reason.”

“I-” Izuku hesitates, “I spoke to Todoroki.”

“And?” Shinsou feigns ignorance, motioning for him to continue.

“And I’m worried about him.” It’s not a lie, but Shinsou knows it’s a deflection. He lets it happen, hoping that it will at least get Izuku closer to talking to him about what’s actually going on.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“He- he’s got some trouble at home. I don’t think it’s left him in such a good place, mentally.”

Shinsou takes a deep breath as he processes that. Todoroki had never really spoken about his home life, despite practically everyone having tried to ask him about what it was like to live with the number two hero. Shinsou hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, Todoroki had been a bit prickly about the questions, but the guy was always prickly. Still…

It makes sense. 

Endeavor had never really been known for his friendliness, and he certainly isn’t known for his consideration of bystanders. More than once people have been injured or killed because he prioritized the capture or defeat of a villain over civilian safety. It’s really no surprise that he’d also take that attitude home with him. 

Shinsou feels a twist of guilt form in his gut at the memory of the words he had used to goad the other boy into a response. It had certainly worked, but he hadn’t really meant to cut so deep just for a sports festival. 

“It’s why he refuses to use his fire. It reminds him of Endeavor and he doesn’t want to be associated with him. That, and because Endeavor raised him to surpass All Might, and Todoroki thinks that if he can become a hero without using his fire, it will be the ultimate insult to his father.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’” Shinsou frowns along with Izuku as the bracket flickers to life over the stands. It looks like he’ll be going third. The first heat is Sero and…

“Yeah, but he can’t keep holding himself back like this. It’s not healthy, physically or mentally. It’s also not fair. Everyone here gave up so much to make it to where we are, it’s an insult not to give everything you’ve got.”

“I guess we’ll get to see if you got through to him soon enough,” Shinsou points up at the bracket. Thankfully they’ve included the student’s profile pictures next to their names so Shinsou doesn’t have to read it for Izuku. He can tell Izuku hates that that’s something that has to be done for him now.

“Oh fuck,” Izuku’s eyes aren’t pointed at the bracket, but at the entrance to one of the tunnels. 

At first, Shinsou doesn’t see the issue. When he spots it, it takes a second for his mind to catch up. A flickering red light is reflecting in the tunnel, subtle enough that you would miss it if you weren’t looking for it. Sero doesn’t have a fire quirk, and there’s no way Todoroki would have jumped straight into using his own outside of combat like that, so there’s only one option for who that could be. The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach.

“That bastard,” Izuku mumbles, his pen gripped so tightly in his fist that Shinsou worries it might snap. For the second time that day he places his hands gently over Izuku’s, calming them. 

The crowd roars as the two competitors emerge onto the field. Sero waves to the cameras and audience with a bright smile, sending up another wave of cheers at his enthusiasm. Todoroki, on the other hand, stalks forward with something dark and dangerous in his gaze. 

They meet in the middle and the crowd goes quiet as they take their positions.

“Three!” Midnight begins the countdown.

“Two!” The two fall into their stances. Todoroki’s eyes never leave Sero’s form.

“One!” A sudden chill envelops the area.

“Begin!”

A resounding crack, somewhere between a car crash and a sonic boom, thunders through the arena. Biting cold wind explodes outward in a shockwave, followed by an immense white and blue wall made of angles and sharp edges, expanding as fast as an explosion.

Before Shinsou can even process what’s happening, Izuku is moving.

He leaps from his seat into the air, holding himself up by the glowing white forcefield beneath his feet. His antlers glow as brightly as flares, having already branched out impossibly far. With a scream of a thousand voices, Izuku raises a fist, a wall of white light expanding up from the ground, blocking the stands just in time for Todoroki’s wave of ice to shatter against it.

The crash echoes in the following silence.

Shinsou, like everyone else in the arena, can’t move his gaze from the figure of Izuku, glowing from every scar, his eyes, and his now far-branching antlers. 

He looks like a God.

---

Izuku barely feels the burn of his scars, his quirk pouring through him in a way it never has before. What once had been a stream is now a river, its current swollen and thundering from flooding. It is terrifying, but it is right.

He lets it flow through him as Todoroki’s ice settles, dropping his shield and leaping to catch the edge of the glacier, pulling himself atop it. Eyes burning and head held high, he stares down at the other boy.

Todoroki is shaking, his eyes betraying the pain that curls around his heart. Izuku’s breath nearly catches at the sight, but he holds his gaze. He releases his aura, flooding the area with a sense of comfort and calm. The moment it hits Todoroki there is a visible change, his shoulders dropping, his fists uncurling. 

“ Who are you? ” Izuku’s voice sounds like a chant.

Todoroki blinks at him in confusion. Izuku steps closer, slowly climbing down the glacier, but careful to keep out of bounds of the competition.

“I- I’m Todo-”

“ No, ” every voice that spills through his mouth drips with kindness, but his firmness remains, “ Who are you ? ”

Todoroki blinks again, but then the smallest hint of a smile forms. He nods.

“I’m Shouto.” 

“ And you know what to do, Shouto? ” Izuku returns his smile, finally stepping off the glacier and onto the grass. He lets his aura fade, feels his antlers begin to shrink, their light lessening.

“Yeah.” Todoroki steps toward Sero, raising his left hand. 

Steam begins to rise and the two speak to each other, but it can’t be heard over the thundering of the crowd as they break out of whatever stupor they had fallen into. Izuku knows the cameras turn to him as he calmly walks into one of the tunnels, not bothering to look back. He hears his name in Present Mic’s voice, but he doesn’t stop to listen to what he says. 

Finally allowing his quirk to flow out of him, he collapses panting against the cold cement wall, trembling all over as the adrenaline finally fades from his body. His head pounds, but he notes with satisfaction that though his scars are red and raised, none of them split. 

Recovery Girl is going to kill him.

He wasn’t even supposed to be part of this event. If Nedzu was on the fence about expelling him before, he’s probably made up his mind now. 

He calms his breathing as it threatens to speed out of control, biting back the panic and the hopelessness. 

It doesn’t matter if they kick him out. That was worth it. He kept people from getting hurt, he kept Todoroki from hurting himself any further. 

He did what a hero is supposed to do, and he won’t let himself regret it.

He pushes himself off the wall, ignoring the dizziness and nausea that tugs insistently at him, leaning against the wall as he makes his way forward. He’ll put on a smile and he’ll be there for his friends. There will be time to break down later.

---

“AN INCREDIBLE SAVE BY IZUKU MIDORIYA OF CLASS 1-A! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING: WHY ISN’T HE COMPETING? BUT IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF FORMALITY DUE TO HIS RECOVERY FROM THE USJ INCIDENT! DON’T WORRY, YOU’LL HAVE PLENTY OF CHANCE TO SEE HIM AGAIN NEXT YEAR!”

“Recovery Girl is going to kill you both.” 

“HEY-”

Shinsou tunes the commentators out, turning to watch the entrance to the student section. Izuku should be emerging any second now. 

“Wow,” Uraraka shuffles in next to him, staring at the sheer cut edge of the rapidly melting glacier, “I had no idea he could do that.”

“He must have increased his threshold at the USJ, kero,” Tsuyu (call me Tsu) comments from his other side. Shinsou’s not sure when those two had moved so close, “He did push himself beyond his limits, after all.”

“Probably,” Shinsou mutters, scanning the entrance again, still no sign of him. Strange, it’s not a long walk.

“He looked pretty cool, didn’t he?” Uraraka pokes him in the side and he turns to see her smiling like the Cheshire cat. Okay, maybe not quite like the cheshire cat, but far wider than she had any right to be smiling at such an implication. 

“Y- yeah- yes. He- he looked very powerful.” Shinsou agrees, trying desperately to fight off a blush for the umpteenth time that day.

“And pretty, too,” Uraraka goads, “He was glowing like an angel.”

“Yes, he- he glows.” Shinsou agrees, ignoring Tsuyu’s soft snicker.

“And strong,” Uraraka continues, now slinging an arm over Shinsou’s shoulders and sighing like a lovestruck character in a cheap sitcom, “What magnificent power, what incredible poise!”

“Stooop,” Shinsou groans, hiding his face in his hands.

“Stop what?” Izuku asks from behind him, a hint of a laugh in his voice, “Uraraka, are you picking on him?”

Shinsou really wishes his quirk was invisibility like Hagakure.

“Me?” Uraraka places a hand over her heart in mock offense, “I would never .”

“Right,” Izuku laughs, “Come on, scooch, give me my seat back.”

Uraraka pouts, but backs off so Izuku can settle down next to Shinsou again. He looks pale, his scars angry and raised.

“Are you alright, Izuku?”

“Awe!” Mina squeals, turning around to look at them.

“Shut up,” Shinsou groans, “He’s recovering from a brain injury, alright? I’m allowed to be concerned!”

Mina pouts, but turns back around. 

“What’s their deal?” Izuku asks, glancing in confusion at Uraraka and Tsuyu, who have started giggling with each other. 

“N-nothing.” Shinsou is certain his face is red now.

“Right,” Izuku agrees with a snort, turning back to the screens above the arena that show the cleanup in process. All but the outer edges of the glacier have been melted. The bracket display has updated, moving Todoroki’s profile up to the next level. The next match is between Hagakure and Iida, and Shinsou can’t wait to see the most straight-laced, and the most chaotic individuals he knows go head to head. 

A twenty-minute break is announced to allow for cleanup and people shuffle out of the stands to get food or go to the bathroom. Shinsou just leans back, pretending that he isn’t at all affected by the fact that Izuku is sleepily leaning against him. 

---

“Aizawa?” Nedzu stands by the door to the announcement booth, his ever-present smile seeming a little more genuine than it usually did.

“Yes, how can I help you, sir?” Aizawa rises from his chair, Present Mic had gone off to get some tea a minute or so ago.

“Oh, no need to get up, we can talk in here. I trust you saw young Midoriya’s performance?”

“Yeah. Though, it didn’t look like much of a performance.” Aizawa settles back down with a grumble. That kid was supposed to be resting.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right. His ability has grown considerably.”

“He used his quirk to the point of nearly dying, I’d be more surprised if there was no change. Now I just have to figure out how to convince him to improve it more slowly to avoid any severe injuries. It’s almost like he thinks he deserves the pain for using his quirk.” Aizawa goes silent as the words pass his lips. Nedzu only gives him a sad, knowing look, “Oh my god,” He buries his face in his hands, “He thinks he deserves to be punished for using his quirk. Shit, why didn’t I see this before? It certainly explains the reckless behavior. He’s not just apathetic toward his wellbeing- which would be bad enough- he’s justifying his power with either pain or doing good for someone else. Often both.”

“In the 1500s self-flagellation was a common practice used to garner forgiveness for ones’ sins.” Nedzu says it softly, but Aizawa hears him loud and clear, “His behavior is consistent with someone seeking penance. Take what he did for young Todoroki, for example,” Nedzu hoists himself up into Mic’s chair, “He helped him find hope in a darkness that we could hardly even see. He crawls into hell in order to drag others out of it, but I wonder if he’s spent too much time there. It’s very easy to fall victim to the comfort of familiarity, no matter what form it takes.”

“I need to talk to him, I just don’t know how. I feel like he’s just waiting for me to lash out at him and I don’t know how to convince him that I won’t.”

“Trust takes time, Aizawa, especially for someone for whom safety is so rare a luxury,” Nedzu fixes Aizawa with gaze, “Right now the best thing you can do is keep an eye on him and make sure you remind him that he’s a person, too. I believe he may have a tendency to forget that.”

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?”

“Not entirely, though it still has to do with the boy. I want him to return to training with his class as soon as possible.”

“But Recovery Girl said-”

“I know,” Nedzu holds up a hand to silence him, “I spoke with her. We agreed that right now the best way to maintain his physical health will be to improve his mental health. He’s already prone to feelings of isolation and I fear that those feelings will only grow stronger the longer he’s kept from regular interaction with his peers.”

“Okay, that makes sense. I’ll let him know tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Aizawa, and not just for letting him know.” Nedzu slides out of his chair, starting toward the door.

“What do you mean, sir?” 

“I know how difficult it is for you to deal with all of this, and I’m thankful that you’re willing to. That boy has a natural propensity for heroics that I haven’t seen in a long time. Thank you for helping me ensure he survives to become what we know he can be.”

“I haven’t done much yet.” Aizawa nearly mumbles. 

“And yet it’s working. He’s still here.”

“Right.”

“Enjoy the rest of the festival!” Nedzu raises a paw as a goodbye, disappearing back through the door. 

Aizawa collapses back in his chair. This kid is going to give him early gray hairs. 

Problem child.

Chapter Text

The fight between Hatsume and Iida was outrageous, though not unexpected. The ending brought a sigh of relief from the audience, though most of the student section had been laughing and cheering throughout the entire impromptu commercial. 

The two bow to each other, and Iida takes the whole thing like a champ, even though his face is bright red. Shinsou snorts as they walk offstage and the next match is announced. Izuku grins, rising to go wait for their friend by the tunnel entrance. Shinsou drags himself along, wordlessly. Izuku suspects it’s because he doesn’t want to be cornered by the girls again. 

The next match is called, and still Iida doesn’t come through the tunnel. It ends, and Izuku sits by the entrance, now frowning. Shinsou joins him, his face twisted in confusion.

“Do you think he got hurt?”

“I don’t know,” Izuku mumbles back, “There didn’t seem to be any real hits exchanged, and he showed no signs of an injury, so probably not.”

“Hmm,” Shinsou nods.

Behind them the crowd cheers as the fourth round begins. Finally, Izuku sighs, “I’m going to go check on him. You should get ready for the next bracket level. You’ll be going first against Iida.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m probably going to have to just curse until he yells at me. No idea how I’ll dodge him long enough.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Izuku gives him a smile and a pat on the shoulder, before turning back toward the tunnel.

“Good luck!” Shinsou calls to him. Izuku just laughs and offers another wave. He plans to be back in time to offer Shinsou a proper good luck for his next match.

His smile fades the further into the tunnel he gets. It’s not like Iida to hide away unless something has happened. There’s virtually no way he could have been injured in that fight, and sure, it may have been a bit of a hit to the ego, but it's nothing he can’t handle, right?

Izuku sighs, turning toward the prep rooms, still stuck in thought. He’s so caught up in his head that he doesn’t immediately register the weird flickering light up ahead until it’s too late and Endeavor has turned the corner, spotting him. 

The man’s face lights up with recognition, his brow furrowing deeper as he stalks down the hallway toward Izuku. Izuku, being the respectful individual he is, stops, refusing to meet Endeavor halfway so the man has to stalk angrily down far more hallway than if Izuku had simply kept walking. His stomach turns at the sight of the man, equal parts nerves and rage battling within him.

“You,” Endeavor growls.

“Me,” Izuku tiredly agrees.

“Are you trying to make a fool of me?” 

Izuku almost laughs, but he manages to hold it together enough to offer a less-than sincere, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You insolent child-” He stops himself, his fire flaring out a bit like a cat puffing up to look bigger. Izuku bites his cheek to keep from laughing at that mental image, “I had hoped to see you defeated today.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Endeavor seems to ignore that comment, “As I had suspected, you are the only worthy opponent for my son to prove his strength. It’s a pity you had to act so foolishly during the incident at your training grounds. You seem like just what Shoto may need to get him to stop this- this rebellion of his.”

“Foolishness?” Izuku’s voice is low now, reverberating in a strange, almost inhuman way, “Strange that a pro hero, whose job it is to risk his life for others, would find such a notion foolish.”

“You made yourself a liability.”

“Perhaps, but that was a risk I was willing to take. We don’t all have flaming mustaches to keep us safe from harm.”

Endeavor’s flames poof again. 

“It would be unwise to make an enemy of me, boy.”

Izuku laughs then, actually laughs. It borders on hysterical and Endeavor takes the smallest step back in surprise. 

“ You know, ” Izuku lets his voice split into hundreds, echoing against the walls around them, doubling over itself, “ You aren’t the only one who has something to prove. Threats don’t work on someone with so little to lose. ”

“What are you-?” Endeavor’s flames drop a little, but Izuku hears a clattering further down the hallway. He has things to get to and he really doesn’t want to be caught talking with this guy by anyone he knows.

“Anyway, great talk, it’s an honor or whatever, bye.” He takes advantage of the man’s shock to slip past him, hurrying down the hallway.

He’s in no way prepared for what he sees when he rounds the corner. 

Iida is curled against the wall, his phone pressed against his chest, tears streaming freely down his face as he tries to muffle his sobs. Before he can fully process what’s happening, Izuku has already dropped down beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Iida, breathe,” Iida looks up at him, his eyes dark and tortured in a way that Izuku had never seen. Something must have happened.

“Midoriya,” Iida tries to wipe the tears away, but they continue to fall, “What- ah- what brings you here-” His voice is watery and cracking, and Izuku only sighs, settling against the wall beside him.

“You don’t have to hide, Iida, I see that you’re hurting. What happened?”

Iida drops his head onto his knees, letting another heavy sob escape. Izuku just waits, keeping a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“My brother,” Iida finally rasps, “He was attacked while on patrol. He’s still in surgery. The doctors say he’s in critical condition. Th- They don’t know if he’ll-” He trails off, once again hiding his face.

Izuku is quiet for a long minute. 

“Okay,” He finally breathes, “First things first, would a hug help?”

Iida doesn’t look up, but he nods, so Izuku gently gathers him in his arms, holding him until some of his shaking has subsided. Izuku hasn’t been a huggy person in a long time, and even now, some part of him still strains, telling him to get away. Physical touch is a complicated thing, especially after so many years of receiving it in the exclusive form of violence, but right now Iida needs comfort, and this is the best way he knows how. 

“Now,” Izuku still holds him, speaking softly, “What do you want to do?”

“My family said they’d send a car,” Iida mumbles back, “They’ll be here soon.”

“Okay, that’s good. Do you want me to stay until they come?”

Iida hesitates for a second, but finally nods, still clutching to Izuku like a drowning man.

“Once you’ve left, what- if anything- should I tell the others?”

“I don’t want to worry them,” Izuku’s heart aches a little to see how deeply Iida cares for their classmates, even when dealing with so much of his own distress, “They’ll know soon enough, but I’d rather they were able to focus on the festival.”

“Okay, I won’t mention anything, then. If they ask what happened I’ll just say you had to leave and keep it at that.”

“Thank you,” Iida pulls him a little tighter into the embrace, his sobbing becoming a little more intense again.

“Hey, it’s okay, just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Iida nods again and they stay there, curled together on the floor until Iida’s phone pings, announcing his ride’s arrival. 

Izuku walks him to the exit of the school, waving farewell until the car rounds the corner out of sight. The instant it disappears, he deflates. Today had been much heavier than he was expecting. 

With a silent prayer on Iida’s behalf, he turns back towards the arena. He’s not sure what this means for Shinsou’s match, but he promised himself he’d be there, so he makes his way back inside, ignoring the way his feet drag with exhaustion. 

---

Shinsou leans against the tunnel wall, watching the writhing crowd outside. His match isn’t set to start for another five minutes or so, but he had opted to leave early because without Izuku to act as a social buffer he would have to sit through Mina and Uraraka’s very loud gossiping about the nature of his and Izuku’s relationship. 

When Izuku hadn’t come back after twenty-or-so minutes, Shinsou had figured something was up. Sure enough, as the time ticks down, no figure emerges into the tunnel mirroring his own. 

“WELL FOLKS, UNFORTUNATELY IIDA TENYA HAS FORFEITED THE MATCH DUE TO HIS PRESENCE BEING NEEDED ELSEWHERE! SHINSOU HITOSHI WINS BY DEFAULT AND WILL BE CONTINUING ON TO THE NEXT LEVEL OF THE COMPETITIONS! STAY TUNED AS WE PREPARE FOR OUR NEXT MATCH-”

Shinsou tunes him out, too stunned to focus any longer. He’d...won?

Where the hell did Iida go?

He turns back down his tunnel, making his way toward the student section. Hopefully, Izuku’s gotten back by now. It feels strange to walk back into the tunnel without having even faced the crowds, but he continues until their dull roar has faded.

When he finally emerges back into their section of the stands, Izuku is waiting for him by the entrance. He looks even more exhausted than he had before he left, and Shinsou wonders, not for the first time that day, just how much his friend really carries.

“Hey, you alright?” His voice feels too weak for the situation.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Come on, Uraraka is up next.” Izuku nods toward their seats in the stands. He doesn’t mention Iida, so Shinsou doesn’t either, even if he’s burning with curiosity about what could have happened. 

They settle into their seats with a tense, but familiar silence. Notably, Izuku doesn’t lean into him this time, and Shinsou misses the feeling more than he thinks is appropriate. 

“ALL RIGHT LISTENERS, NEXT UP WE HAVE URARAKA OCHAKO OF CLASS 1-A VERSUS IBARA SHIOZAKI OF CLASS 1-B!”

  The girls step out onto the platform, the audience cheering even louder in response. Uraraka flashes a wide smile to the crowd, but Ibara only continues forward with her hands clasped in front of her, almost as though she’s… praying?

“Take your positions, girls!” Midnight announces, gesturing with her whip to either side of the circle. They step into place without complaint. 

“Three! Two! One! Go!”

Immediately, green vines ripple across the concrete with incredible speed, headed straight for Uraraka, but Uraraka is fast as well, applying her quirk to herself and shooting above the vines before any can grab hold. 

She drops herself down just meters away from Ibara, grabbing a vine before they can redirect to grab her. With a tug, Ibara is brought off-balance, falling toward Uraraka who meets her with a punch to the gut. 

Shinsou winces as the hit lands. Uraraka’s form wasn’t perfect, but even so, there was some major force behind that. 

Before Ibara can hit back, Uraraka has launched herself up again, this time still holding the vine she had grabbed so that Ibara is tugged sharply upwards. In a panic, she drops her vines, and then Uraraka takes yet another chance. 

Dropping in nearly on top of the other girl, Uraraka locks her in a hold, jumping to launch them both up. Once she’s about fifteen meters above the circle, Uraraka releases herself, leaving Ibara floating helplessly above her.

After a moment of floundering to get her bearings, Ibara sends down a barrage of vines to try and anchor herself back to the ground, but Uraraka is ready for her. She catches the vines, tugging them with all her might, causing a weightless Ibara to come flying back toward the ground like a meteor.

Abruptly, Izuku stands, shoving past Shinsou to get to the exit.

“Hey,” Shinsou watches as Uraraka lands another hit, sending Ibara shooting out of bounds, “Where are you going?”

The crowd roars as the match is called. Uraraka is the winner.

Izuku’s response is drowned out in all the noise, but Shinsou swears he sees him mouth the word ‘bathroom’ so he lets him go. A good portion of him wants to follow the other boy, but it would be best if at least one of them were here to greet Uraraka when she comes back up. 

Shinsou watches him go, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut that he does his best to ignore. Izuku can handle himself, he doesn’t need Shinsou always butting into his business. 

With a sigh, Shinsou turns back to the field, where Uraraka is helping Ibara to her feet with a smile.

---

Izuku stumbles through the tunnels until he sees the sign he’s looking for. A single stall family bathroom in the student section of the arena, somewhere he won’t be disturbed. He throws the door open, locking himself inside without even bothering to turn on the light. 

He sinks down against the door, hands already tangled in his hair and pulling as the sound of his labored breathing fills the small room, echoing back at him mockingly. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, his lungs don’t feel like they’re able to take in enough air, like the bottoms are blocked off so he can only fill them halfway, “Fuck, fuck, no, I don’t- I can’t-”

He sobs, tearing at his hair in a desperate attempt to ground himself. He can feel some of the roots tear loose from his scalp, but he doesn’t have it in him to care. 

The cool metal of the railing leaches the warmth from his shaking hands. He takes a breath, another, the air is sweet. 

“No!” He curls in against himself, falling over so his head knocks against the floor. It hurts, but he wants to do it again. He wants to bash his head against the cement until everything goes quiet, “Stop, I’m- I’m so tired-”

Sobs scratch at his throat as he groans against the darkness, his own voice compounding over his memories that rise like bile, burning and lurching. 

“Please,” He doesn’t know who he’s begging, “No more of this. I’m tired. I’m so tired-”

He breaks down into incoherent babbling, trying desperately to ignore the images that flash behind his eyes. 

A body, falling fast toward the ground as his muscles freeze up. He tenses for an impact that never comes. It’s just a competition. They’re safe, everything is fine. Nobody is falling. Uraraka wouldn’t actually let anyone fall. She wouldn’t make them fall. 

So why does he feel like he’s been plunged into freezing water?

He swings his other leg over, now holding to the very edge by his heels and his grip on the railing. 

“No,” He groans again, his eyes burning from tears, the pressure in his head mounting with every heartbeat, “I didn’t- I didn’t- I’m okay. I’m fine! I was hit by a car-” His breath hitches with a wheeze, “I was hit by a car! I was hit by a car! IwashitbyacarIwashitbyacar-”

God, everything aches.

His vision is spotty from the black dots now forming at the edges from lack of oxygen, but he can see how his scars have begun to light up the small room. He’s losing control.

“Stop, please stop- It hurts- It hurts so much. Get it together, dammit,” blackness continues to encroach on his vision, blocking out his own light, “No, no no no nononono-”

He can barely even hear himself panting and begging now. It’s as though everything is underwater. 

---

When Izuku wakes he can hear the thundering of the crowd above him. For a moment, he freaks out, feeling himself blink even though he can’t see anything, but his situation comes back to him in bits and pieces. 

He’s in the bathroom. The light is off. He had a freak out of some kind and he must have passed out. 

God, he’s fucking pathetic.

He feels along the wall until he finds the switch, flicking it on and flinching at the way the harsh fluorescent light floods the room, causing his headache to pound with a vengeance. He closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe through the pain. 

Finally, he’s able to squint them open enough to figure out what his surroundings look like. Opposite the door, there’s a mirror bolted to the wall above the sink. With a groan, Izuku drags himself to his feet, stumbling over and bracing himself against the counter as his head swims with vertigo. 

After a moment of glaring down at the sink basin, he finally looks up, nearly flinching at the sight that greets him. 

He looks pale, almost gray. His dark shadows stand out even more, making him look hollowed-out, corpse-like. His eyes are rimmed in red, though thankfully most of the swelling from his crying has gone down. His hair is tossed erratically around his head, likely from all the pulling he had done. His scars are distinct, a dark angry red, almost purple in places. Thankfully, none of them split, but that doesn’t stop them from aching horribly. 

He groans as he stretches, watching himself in the mirror. How had he let things get this bad? People were bound to notice, and there would be questions and worrying. He doesn’t have time for questions, and his stomach knots with guilt at the thought of making anyone worry. He has to pull himself together. Today he’s here to support Shinsou, he shouldn’t be abandoning his friend to go throw a pity party in the bathroom.

Shit, how long has he been out?

Has Shinsou already competed again? Has he missed it? Was he looking for him?

He debates washing his face to try and make himself look more presentable, but opts against it. He shouldn’t waste any more time. 

With a near silent groan, he forces his features back into their usual neutral-friendly look. He ignores the way his muscles ache, pulling the door open and turning off the lights as he emerges back into the hallway. The crowd above him rumbles again as Present Mic announces something, and Izuku picks up his pace a little. 

The sunlight in the student section makes him gasp in pain as the throbbing in his head reaches new heights. As quickly as he can, he schools his expression back to neutral, continuing forward to take his seat again. 

“Hey! Izuku you’re back! We were wondering where you went,” Uraraka pats him on the shoulder as he lowers himself onto the bleachers, desperately ignoring the way his scars and muscles protest the movement. God, everything aches, “You look a little pale, you feeling okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Izuku offers her the best smile he can muster, “I just felt a little nauseous there for a while. I’m feeling a lot better now, though.”

“I’m glad!” Izuku can’t tell whether she really means it, or whether she sees right through him, but if she’s willing to drop it, he’s not going to complain. 

Below them, Midnight begins the countdown, and Izuku finally spots who’s competing. 

Shinsou stands at one end, the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he stares down Tokoyami. 

This is going to be interesting. 

“-Two! One! Go!”

Izuku ignores the twinge of guilt in his gut at the fact that he hadn’t been there to wish Shinsou good luck before he began the match. Even worse, he had missed almost the entire second tier of the bracket save for Uraraka’s battle. He had to have been out for at least half an hour, probably closer to a full hour. What had everyone thought of his disappearance? What had Shinsou thought of him abandoning his friend?

Below them, Shinsou circles Tokoyami, keeping a close eye on Dark Shadow who hovers over the boy’s shoulder, ready to strike. Shinsou is speaking, but there are no microphones to pick up what he is saying. Wisely, Tokoyami seems intent not to respond. 

Dark Shadow, on the other hand, seems to have no qualms, shouting right back at Shinsou. 

A sudden thought occurs to Izuku at just about the same time as it seems to occur to Shinsou. If Dark Shadow can act independently of Tokoyami, does that mean he has a mind of his own? If so, does that mean-

Dark Shadow suddenly freezes, Shinsou falling into a fighting stance to steady himself as Tokoyami stares up at his shadowy companion in confusion. The cameras close up on the two competitors, and Izuku sees the small amount of blood leaking from one of Shinsou’s nostrils. It must take extra effort to hold onto the creature, meaning he wouldn’t be able to maintain his control for long. He needs to think fast.

And think fast he does, shouting a rapid-fire series of commands at Dark Shadow as Tokoyami tries to yell over him, attempting to override Shinsou’s commands with his own. 

Luckily for Shinsou, Dark Shadow remains firmly in his control, picking up his companion and swiftly depositing him outside the bounds. 

The match is called, and Izuku joins in with the crowd as they cheer on Shinsou’s victory, ignoring the way the shouting makes his head pound more severely.

Shinsou swiftly joins Tokoyami out of bounds, offering him a hand in thanks for the match. Tokoyami takes it gladly, and the two exchange words, though there's no possible way the cameras could pick up the conversation through the noise. They leave the arena together, both smiling as Present Mic crows something about impressive sportsmanship.

Izuku sags a little as he realizes that Shinsou will be coming back, and he’ll have to justify his abandonment. He hasn’t the faintest idea what to say.

---

Shinsou parts from Tokoyami as they reach the fork in the tunnel, his friend going to retrieve his things from the locker room on the other side of the student section. He sighs as he begins to climb the stairs, alone. 

Izuku hadn’t come back after he ran off at the end of Uraraka’s fight. When Uraraka herself had gotten back, Shinsou had hoped she might have seen him, but she had no idea where he went either. He had tried looking for him for a bit, but to no avail. He knows he should have listened to his gut and followed him. God knows where he is now, and whether he’s okay.

Who is he kidding? Of course he’s not okay.

He’s lost the ability to read, been dealing with shitty side effects from his quirk and brain damage, had at least one classmate trauma dump on him today (he still doesn’t know if he and Iida had a talk, but he suspects they had, so maybe two), had to intervene with a huge amount of skill and energy when Todoroki’s fight went askew, not to mention the fact that Shinsou had never even managed to actually talk to him about his feelings on being left out of the sports festival, or how tired he looked, or the way he wasn’t eating as much or talking as much anymore, or the way his eyes had grown slowly more dull as time passed. 

Wow, he’s really dropped the ball on this one. Some friend he is. 

He squints against the sun as he emerges back into the class 1-A stands, and he feels himself relax at the sight of Izuku’s bright white hair. He’s sitting next to Uraraka, nodding along with something the other girl is saying to Tsu. 

His relief is short-lived when Uraraka loudly announces his presence and Izuku turns around with a weak smile to greet him. Shinsou’s breath catches in his throat.

In short, he looks like shit. 

Sure, Izuku has been a little under the weather lately, especially with all the noise and excitement today, but that doesn’t warrant the way he looks now. 

He’s pale, almost ashen. His scars stand out in stark contrast, the shadows under his eyes darker than Shinsou’s ever seen them. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair’s a mess, he looks like he’s going to keel over any minute. 

“Izuku,” he breathes, ignoring the way Uraraka glances at him with waggling eyebrows. He couldn’t care less about her silly opinion right now, “Is it okay if we talk real quick?”

He tries to keep his voice light, indicating toward the tunnel with a nod of his head. Still, something like fear flashes through Izuku’s expression before he nods, hesitantly, and rises to follow him. Shinsou can’t help but notice how gingerly he moves, as if it hurts him to do even that much. What has happened to him?

They turn the corner in the tunnel, out of the way of passing students and out of eyesight of their class. It’s not absolute privacy by any means, but it will have to do. 

Shinsou turns to Izuku, instinctually reaching up to hold his face in his hands, to examine him for injury. At first Izuku flinches at the movement, but before Shinsou can pull away, he melts into it. 

“Izuku,” Shinsou starts, voice soft as the other boy blinks at him tiredly, swaying the smallest bit on his feet. Shinsou probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if he wasn’t holding the other boy in some capacity, “What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku responds, wrapping a hand around one of Shinsou’s and guiding it back away from his face. Reluctantly, Shinsou let’s him go, “I should have been there to see you off for your match.”

“My match?” Shinsou almost laughs, “Izuku, you look dead on your feet, to hell with the match, what happened to you?”

“I’m just tired is all-”

“No. Not that’s not all. You’ve been struggling for days and I’ve been pretending not to notice because I’m a coward and I was worried about ruining the lightness of the moment or something. I should have asked you this days ago: What’s wrong?”

“You already know what’s wrong, Hitoshi, but I’m trying to get better, I swear. I’m recovering pretty well. Today is just an off day.”

“No, it’s not just the USJ, there’s something else. There has been for a long time, I just haven’t wanted to see it.”

Izuku freezes at his words, seeming to stop breathing for a moment. Finally, slowly, he responds.

“I’m okay, really, I’m just a little stressed is all-”

“Why won’t you talk to me?” Shinsou interrupts, ignoring the way Izuku shrinks in on himself a little when he raises his voice. Izuku has never looked as small as he does now. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re-”

“You never really talk about what you’re feeling. You always deflect, or insist there’s nothing wrong, even when I can tell that something is the matter. You’re always there for everyone else, why won’t you let anyone be there for you?”

“Hitoshi, I’m okay, really, I’m just stressed. I’ll be better by monday.”

“Will you?” Shinsou steps closer, forcing Izuku to look him in the eye, “Or will you just hide it by Monday so I don’t see how much you’re struggling? You know what, I don’t even need to know everything, just tell me what happened after you left during Uraraka’s match. Why do you look so pale, so tired?”

“I- I just needed some time alone, to let out some energy.”

Shinsou stares at him hard. Suddenly, he remembers where he’s seen this look before, though not as bad. After the incident when they were quirk training, when Izuku lost control, and again after he had that episode in Present Mic’s class. His eyes widen as he realizes what’s been going on.

“You’ve been having panic attacks,” his voice is barely above a whisper. Izuku stares at him with wide eyes, which is all the confirmation Shinsou needs, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not that serious. I can handle it fine on my own.”

“Maybe, but you shouldn’t have to. That’s what friends are for. What if it was me, would you want me to hide my struggles from you?”

Izuku’s eyes widen again, “No!” He blurts before reeling himself in, “No, I- I just didn’t want to worry you, with the sports festival and all, you have a lot on your plate.”

“I’ll never have so much going on that I won’t have room for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that this is only one thing. I know there’s others you aren’t telling me. You don’t have to tell me now, but I do want to know eventually. I haven’t known you this long just to be some half-assed fair weather friend. We’re in this for the long-haul, right?” He locks eyes with Izuku, ignoring the way his stomach flips at the sight of his beautiful emerald irises. He suddenly remembers why he avoids intense eye contact with his friend. 

Finally, Izuku nods, “Yeah, the long-haul,” He agrees.

“Good,” Before he can stop himself or talk himself out of it, he surges forward to catch Izuku in a hug. The other boy goes stiff as a plank for a moment before he finally sinks into it, settling his arms, tentatively, on Shinsou’s back. 

Shinsou wishes he could stay in this moment forever, but finally, he pulls back, offering Izuku another smile, “Come on, let’s go watch the matches. Uraraka will be back up soon.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” 

---

Uraraka’s fight against Todoroki is far more drawn out than any of Todoroki’s previous matches, but predictably, Todoroki still comes out on top. Not that Uraraka hadn’t given him one hell of fight. She’d had to be taken out of there on a stretcher, Todoroki sheepishly following after. Midnight announced that her collapse was due to exhaustion, not injury, much to the relief of the audience. 

They hadn’t taken too kindly to Todoroki’s aggressiveness in the beginning, until Aizawa had scolded them and they all quieted down. It had been… interesting. 

Present Mic announces a small break as they repair the arena and get ready for the final match. It will be Shinsou versus Todoroki for the finals, and Shinsou is fighting to keep himself from turning into a solid ball of nerves. 

“So, what’s your strategy?” Izuku asks, nudging him in the shoulder to break him out of his thoughts. Maybe his internal meltdown is a bit more obvious than he thought. 

“Uh, make him talk, I guess. Maybe I’ll just go off on him and tell him to cut the bullshit about his quirk so he’ll actually use it. If it’s a big enough deal for him, it might count as a sort of response?”

“Maybe,” Izuku’s brow furrows in thought as he brings a hand up so his knuckles presses into his top lip. He had developed the habit since they’d been at UA to stop himself from mumbling out loud when he thought. An old habit that Shinsou had found ridiculously endearing and everyone else found mildly worrying or irritating. Honestly, he kind of misses it, “You’ll need to be prepared for that plan to fail, though. Normally your suit would help you combat fire a little bit, but without it you’ll be at much greater risk of injury. How’s your heat tolerance?”

“Uh, I get nervous about being too close to the stove sometimes, so… not great?”

Izuku gives him a look, but finally shrugs, continuing, “Okay, so you’re going to want to avoid exposure as much as you can. How are you about keeping your wits when you’re injured?”

‘Uh, not terrible, I guess. I’m not sure, I haven’t been in a ton of situations where I had to think a lot while I had a substantial injury.”

“Really?” Izuku sounds genuinely surprised, “I thought you were bullied pretty badly in middle school?”

“Oh, I was, but it was mostly non-physical. That day you found me on the beach was a pretty substantial outlier. Most were too afraid to really get that close to me. Why? Were yours more hands-on?” He laughs a little, but Izuku just looks at him.

Shinsou regrets the joke almost immediately.

“Yeah. They- they weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.”

“Hm,” Shinsou clears his throat awkwardly, “Sorry about that. Bad joke. Anyway, I think I can function fine with mild injuries, but if they get too serious I may be in trouble.”

“Okay, most burns are a seven to ten on the pain scale, so you’ll need to avoid those if at all possible. In contrast, frostbite and excessive cold often take longer to grow severe and usually remain partially numb, putting them closer to the three to five range on the scale. They’re also a duller pain, so they won’t be as surprising or disorienting.”

“So, pretty much what you’re saying is, I’m going to get my ass beat, so if I can manipulate him into giving me the right kind of ass-beating, I might make it out of there?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’ll have to use the fire-activation-as-a-possible-response thing as a last resort. I do suggest trying to rile him up about his fire though. Maybe use the fact that he can’t talk back to talk some sense into him. You’ll want to close the gap between you two pretty quickly as well. He does better as a long-range fighter because it gives him the opportunity to overwhelm his opponents. In hand to hand he’ll have the advantage of his quirk, but you have some substantial experience in hand to hand, so it will level the playing field as much as possible. Close range is also better for talking, so it will give you more opportunities to use your quirk.”

“I get the feeling you’ve thought about this a lot.” Shinsou huffs a little laugh at the way Izuku turns red.

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it. You know my brain never shuts up. At least now it might be a bit useful.”

“I think it’s plenty useful. I’ll keep close, fight dirty, and talk dirtier.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily-”