Archive of Our Own ^beta

The creature would arrive soon.

In his windowless, weatherless room, it was impossible to keep track of time. Best guesses were all he had: how long since his last meal; when he felt himself become restless or tired. Although his body clock was struggling, Izuku knew he had slept for a while. It wouldn’t be long.

Although he’d been stripped naked, the temperature in his enclosure was comfortable. Fresh water ran in an artificial fountain mounted on one wall, opposite the thin mattress where he sat. Shiny lenses pointed at him from all sides, unobtrusive but unavoidable. The floor was littered with blocky three-dimensional puzzles, ropes dangling and looping from the ceiling like a jungle gym.

His captor didn’t want him to be bored.

Although — was captor right? Sure, he’d been abducted, but Izuku couldn’t help but see it as an opportunity. He’d been researching Sparks for years. Every spare moment was consumed by it: sifting through ufology forums, scavenging for details in news reports, devouring every scrap of information he could find. A nearby sighting was the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

He’d hoped to examine the site. Document the aliens’ distinctive scorch marks; maybe get a sighting himself, if he was quick enough. Abduction was beyond anything he could have dreamed of.

Right on time, heavy footsteps approached the door. Izuku’s head jerked up, then quickly dropped back to check the smeared message at his feet. It was barely legible — he’d had to improvise the ink — but it would do.

By the time the door slid open, Izuku had already stood to meet it.

His captor was big. Maybe seven feet to the tip of the spines on its head, muscular with strong shoulders and meaty arms. Long protrusions curled from wrist to elbow, running in parallel with the creature’s thick, angular forearms. Its spiky tail moved nimbly to close the door behind it, shutting them in together.

The Spark moved with a startling, reptilian grace. Within a few paces, it grasped him between its three-fingered hands, the touch scorching but not meant to hurt. Squeezing his jaw until his mouth opened; running a swab along the inside of his cheek; delicately pricking his finger with a needle. Izuku held still, holding his breath.

It wasn’t until the Spark was about to leave, stashing its samples in the bag on its hip, that it noticed the floor. For a moment, it just stared.

“This says human.” Heart hammering, Izuku gestured at his work; the barely legible words written with his finger dipped in food. “This says Spark — that’s what we call your species.”

The alien’s eyes followed his pointing finger. Its gaze didn’t stray, but its first set of eyelids flickered in a blink, the translucent membranes passing horizontally across its irises.

Izuku hesitated. “You… know about written language, right?”

Straightening up, the Spark left without a sound.

Food was the worst part of being abducted. It wasn’t much more than a nutritional paste: a thick, savoury porridge that tasted of nothing in particular. But it wasn’t the food itself that had Izuku eagerly anticipating his next meal.

As usual, the Spark delivered it through a hatch at the base of the door. Izuku scrambled over as fast as he could, ignoring the tray to keep his eyes fixed on the opening. Waiting.

Just when he was about to feel disappointed, another slim, flat object slid through the hatch.

It was — he snatched it up — definitely some kind of book. It wasn’t paper; the pages felt light but incredibly tough, resistant to folding or tearing. Clipped to the side was a stylus, too big for human hands to hold comfortably. Experimentally, he touched the first page with his finger, and watched a mark bloom to mar the blank surface.

His free hand bunched into a fist, quivering with barely-contained excitement.

Another feeding time came and went, but Izuku barely noticed. Hardly even looked up from the book, writing enough to fill page after page — so much that his wrist cramped and sent warning pangs up his forearm. He was shaking out his wrists, flexing his fingers to dispel the tension, when the door slid open.

Once again, the Spark headed straight for him. Its long fingers curled most of the way around his bicep as it drew him closer; Izuku turned his arm outwards, letting it trace the blue-green veins inside his elbow.

“Thank you for the notebook,” he said.

The Spark grunted.

A pinch of pain as a needle punctured his skin. Izuku watched curiously as his blood slowly filled the vial. “It was driving me crazy not being able to write.”

The Spark didn’t react. But it wasn’t like it didn’t understand; instead, Izuku felt almost ignored. Its big head tilted down towards its work, eyes narrow and focused. It capped and stashed the blood sample before turning to him again, one hand plucking a swab from its bag.

This time, Izuku opened his mouth before the Spark had a chance to pry his jaw open.

Its outer eyelids flickered, gaze jumping between Izuku’s eyes and his open mouth. Suddenly, it let out an explosive bark — almost like a laugh. The sound was harsh, choked off between its sharp front teeth; closer to kah than hah.

Holding his gaze, it reached out to lift his face by the chin.

Izuku held still, head back and mouth wide, as the creature took its sample. The swab ran lightly along the back of his tongue, hypersensitive but not uncomfortable; ticklish when it shifted to stroke the inside of his cheek. The Spark’s head dipped low, almost to Izuku’s level, revealing the fine texture of orange scales along the planes of its face.

Fascinated, he reached out and touched his fingers to its lipless mouth.

It jerked back, swab dropping to the ground.

“S-sorry!” Izuku held up both hands, empty palms facing outwards. “I’m not trying to hurt you — just curious—”

The Spark snarled at him, thick slime pooling between its teeth to spatter from its jaw. Its tail thrashed behind it as it turned and stalked out.

Several mealtimes had passed with no sight of the Spark. Each time Izuku heard the thudding approach of clawed feet, his lungs grew tight with anticipation — only to deflate, heavy and defeated, when the door stayed closed in favour of the food hatch. Had he been wrong to think they had bonded after the breakthrough with the notebook? That they’d made steps to bridge the chasm of technology and language, species and power?

For the first time since his abduction, he was having trouble sleeping. Found himself spending less time writing and more time with his enrichment toys, unable to sit still. Somehow, he’d never paused to wonder how long the Spark planned to keep him. College was one thing, but what about his mom?

Finally, finally, the door slid open.

“You’re here!” Izuku sprang to his feet and darted over. “I’m so glad to see you — I thought I’d upset you! Or you were angry, or might not come back, or—”

He cut himself off at the sight of the gurney the Spark was dragging behind it. It was stark and shiny, flat on top like a table with sides that tapered towards a narrow base, gliding above the ground with no sign of wheels. As Izuku attempted to look closer, the Spark placed a huge hand over his head, moving him aside like an unruly puppy.

Not missing a beat, Izuku tugged at the Spark’s wrist to free himself. “What’s that for?”

It tapped twice in the middle of his chest with a curved claw.

“Oh.” Izuku hopped onto the gurney, swinging his legs up so it took his weight. “Is this okay?”

The Spark stared at him. Its narrow nostrils flared — before it made another barking kah, sudden and loud like a hydraulic machine.

Kacchan, Izuku thought as the alien guided him onto his back. Cute.

Izuku hadn’t noticed the straps dangling from the gurney until the Spark — Kacchan — fastened them around each limb. But the restraints were loose enough that he could get free if he wanted — and he suspected Kacchan knew it. He bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to contain his excitement as the gurney hummed into motion, moving him for the first time into the spacecraft beyond his door.

Without the enrichment toys that filled Izuku’s cell, the overall effect was stark. High, curved ceilings arched above him, bathing the corridor in sickly greenish light. Izuku fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, wanting to take in everything he could. All too soon, a doorway sealed behind them, shutting them together.

Every wall of the room was lined with shelves covered with equipment, odd wires and tubes stacked in tidy chaos with a single lens peering out among the mess. Kacchan steered the gurney to rest against the opposite wall, hitting a button with its tail on the way. A fine mist sprayed from the ceiling, filling the room with a harsh smell like alcohol and landing in a cool, tingling layer over Izuku’s naked body.

Kacchan had turned to rummage through a nearby shelf. It pulled out a handheld device, as thick as an arm and covered in lights, and aimed it at Izuku’s forehead.

“What’s that?”

Kacchan narrowed its eyes.

Obediently, Izuku went quiet.

The device passed slowly from one side of his head to the other. It was slightly warm, humming at a frequency he could hardly hear and emitting a faint light that glimmered in his periphery. Kacchan’s focus on him was intense, enough that he felt self-conscious — even as the creature seemed to scan his brain.

After the device beeped, Kacchan turned it to Izuku’s bare chest. The shimmering beam mapped his ribs from side to side, casting an eerie glow over his skin. He could feel Kacchan’s breath like the heat of a campfire, playing on the line between warming and burning.

He wanted to feel more. Impulsively, he wriggled one hand free and took Kacchan’s wrist.

It dropped the scanner with a clatter. Its pupils narrowed to a pitch-dark slice, holding steady on his face, but it didn’t pull away.

Gently, Izuku guided its hand down to his chest.

Kacchan’s palm was hot. Its nostrils flared at the contact, its three fingers splaying to flatten against his breastbone, almost wide enough to cover the entire span of his ribcage. Izuku could feel his heartbeat echoing steadily in the hollow of that huge palm. Kacchan squeezed, just enough to press into the flesh of his chest; enough that it bulged between those thick fingers. One fingertip shifted, trailing the outline of his pec until it poked at the bud of his nipple.

Izuku couldn’t hold back his gasp.

Immediately, Kacchan yanked away.

Izuku’s stomach dropped. Wriggling his other hand free from its strap, he wrestled himself upright. Kacchan had stalked to the opposite side of the examination room and was rummaging furiously through equipment.

“I’m sorry!” Izuku called, trying to be heard over the noise. “Nothing’s wrong, I just didn’t expect—! It’s a, um. Sensitive area.”

But when Kacchan turned around, it was empty-handed. Behind it, the shelf had been rearranged to obscure the lens in the wall.

Izuku swallowed. “We’re not being watched?”

Kacchan inclined its head.

“I know you can understand me,” Izuku said wonderingly. “Why don’t you talk?”

This time, Kacchan took his wrist. Crouching so he could reach, it guided Izuku’s hand up to the side of its neck. There, where his fingertips rested, a small indentation sat below the creature’s jaw. Inside the hollow, Izuku could feel something smooth: a membrane, he realised, as it vibrated beneath his touch.

“You don’t have a voice box?”

Kacchan blinked both sets of eyelids at him.

Izuku tipped his head back and gestured towards his throat, prompting its gaze to drop. “This is how humans speak. See?”

Curious, Kacchan placed its thumb on his adam’s apple. Izuku hummed to make his larynx buzz; swallowed so that it bobbed up and down, ticklish under the pressure. Kacchan’s pupils expanded and it pressed a little firmer, feeling out the edges of his voice. With his other hand still on Kacchan’s neck, Izuku traced the circumference of the membrane. It expanded and contracted rhythmically, steady waves rolling with its breath.

“I’ve let you study me,” Izuku said quietly, running his hand around Kacchan’s jaw. “Can I…?”

Kacchan lowered its chin until his fingers brushed against its mouth.

Breathlessly excited, Izuku tugged his legs free from the straps and shifted to kneel. When he tugged on Kacchan’s mouth, it opened, allowing him to see its rows of teeth. Short and sharp at the front, a longer, serrated pair on either side. Its tongue was dark, coiled at the back of its mouth. When Izuku tapped it curiously, Kacchan let its tongue unfurl, hanging thick and wet. It was as long as Izuku’s forearm.

He pulled away hastily. “Um! Thanks.”

Before he could escape, Kacchan touched a finger to his flaming cheek. Izuku held still, fighting the urge to turn away in embarrassment — it wasn’t as if an alien could understand blushing.

Then it barked again, hard enough to blow the hair away from his face. Its lips drew back, letting its teeth gleam in the light.

Was it… making fun of him?

Feeling indignant, Izuku grabbed its wrist. “Don’t be mean!”

He tugged its hand away from his face, but was quickly distracted by the powerful fist in his grip. Kacchan’s fingers were strong and straight, tipped with claws that came to a curved point. Each finger was as thick as three of his own.

“Surprisingly dexterous,” he muttered, as Kacchan trailed its other hand down the slope of his neck.

The tips of its fingers touched delicately: his collarbone, shoulder, back down to his chest. Slowly, deliberately, the peak of a nipple.

Izuku shuddered, a jolt of sensation spreading downwards. “B-be gentle…”

Moving as if in a dream, he attempted to mirror Kacchan’s touches. Placed one hand to its broad chest: hot, lightly scaled skin stretched over dense, wiry muscle. The thrumming below, alien anatomy shifting as it moved. The whole time, it kept touching his chest, now on both sides with two huge, deft thumbs. Under the pressure, his nipples quickly hardened — which only made Kacchan more interested. It touched more firmly, back and forth over the nubs, the plush pads of its fingers circling and stroking until Izuku had to bite back a moan.

“Th-that’s enough,” he gasped, squeezing his thighs together.

The motion got Kacchan’s attention. It glanced down, pupils expanding when it spotted his half-hard cock.

“It’s involuntary,” Izuku explained sheepishly, attempting to cover it with his hand. “It’ll go away if we wait.”

Kacchan narrowed its eyes. Abandoning his chest, it tugged his hand away from between his legs, leaving him uncovered. Under its watchful gaze, its hot breath on his thighs, Izuku only got harder. Soon his cock stood tall in front of Kacchan’s face, twitching gently with his pulse.

Taking his wrist, Kacchan moved Izuku’s hand to his dick.

He sucked in a breath, so sudden it burned his lungs. “You want me to…?”

Kacchan gestured at him impatiently.

“O-okay…”

With a slow exhale, Izuku sat back, propping himself on one arm and making room for Kacchan to crawl up next to him. It stared, unblinking, as he let his knees fall open and hesitantly took hold of his cock. Mesmerised, its gaze followed the journey of his hand as he slowly began to pump.

Izuku had never been so scrutinised. He couldn’t help but feel flattered.

“I do it like this,” he explained breathlessly. Pausing to rub his thumb over the slit, he let his hips jerk into his hand. “Mh! It’s sensitive — right here.”

Kacchan’s skin was changing. Over its face, chest, and the patch of skin between its legs, gold-green hues shifted and darkened. Still stroking his cock, Izuku let his eyes drop, watching as the place between Kacchan’s hips grew flushed and moist.

His hand was outstretched before he could stop to think. “What about you?”

When his fingers made contact with gleaming flesh, Kacchan jolted. Its chest rattled in a groan, hips shifting and allowing him access further below.

Curiously, Izuku stroked the area between Kacchan’s legs. The skin was slick, wetness seeping out from somewhere inside, turning the surface shiny. He could see a bulge that he hadn’t noticed before, growing firm under the attention and shifting below the surface to nudge up against Izuku’s questing fingertips. Finally, with a wet sound that went right to his cock, the flesh swelled and parted. A thick appendage unfurled: a dark, reddish colour, ridged along its length and pointed at the tip, dripping with clear, viscous fluid. Underneath, Izuku could see the pouch it had been resting in, now empty and spilling slick onto his fingers.

“Wow,” he murmured.

Kacchan’s hips twitched back and forth, making his fingers glide along the edges of the slit. Hot, wet, giving way under his touch. Izuku curled his other fingers out of the way and pressed in deliberately with his index, deep into the clenching heat of Kacchan’s insides. It made another low sound, thighs quivering.

Izuku’s head was rattling with questions. What this meant for Spark reproduction, how their anatomy worked, whether Kacchan was male or female or something else entirely. But he couldn’t keep up with his own thoughts when Kacchan took his cock in its large, warm, three-fingered hand.

“Oh,” he gasped, letting his head fall back. “Yeah, that feels good…”

He tried to be good as well, fingering Kacchan’s slit like he might a pussy or an ass. It didn’t really feel like either — or like a human body at all. Squishy and elastic, sporadically flexing in waves as he fucked his finger in and out. Experimentally, he added another and got a pleased hiss in response, Kacchan moving its hips to guide the pace and ride his hand. Its padded fingers continued to pet the tip of Izuku’s cock, spreading wet over the crown as it grew tender and slippery with pre. It was almost too much, too intense — until Kacchan’s other hand dipped to cradle his balls, and Izuku couldn’t wait any longer.

When he pulled his fingers out, Kacchan snarled viciously at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Izuku babbled, but kept moving. With wet hands he took Kacchan’s hips and tugged it forwards, bucking up at the same time so his cock slid against the loose folds of its slit. “Can we — like this?”

Kacchan slammed a hand over his face and pushed him on his back.

Izuku reeled, cock throbbing and cheeks smeared with pre, as Kacchan climbed up over him. With its free hand it grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the gurney above his head. Their cocks rubbed haphazardly, hot slick oozing from its slit to coat them both, until Kacchan lifted. Just enough for them to separate; enough that Izuku moaned in protest, hips bucking into nothing. Then it sank back down, swallowing him up.

Izuku arched, his choked gasp muffled under Kacchan’s palm.

Its insides were so hot it was almost painful. At first the slit felt loose, until the walls seemed to sense him and drew tight around his cock. They squeezed and massaged along his length, clamping down in surging ripples of muscular movement.

Izuku could hear his own voice as if from a distance. Slurred and pleasure-drunk, mumbling streams of nonsense in the shape of “yes, ah, yes, yes”. His hands were still pinned, but he rocked his hips as much as he could under the weight atop him, just enough to fuck his cock in and out of that powerful, pulsing grip.

Thick, strong legs tightened around his hips to keep their bodies locked together. Kacchan was making noises he hadn’t heard before: not like human moans, but creaking whines and loud chuffs, breath blowing like steam over his naked skin. When he forced his eyes open behind the clawed hand clamped over his face, Izuku could see the creature’s writhing cock. It leaked in time with the pulses of its insides, more fluid oozing from the tip with each stroke. Kacchan’s face had flushed dark, drool dripping from its fangs to splatter on Izuku’s chest.

“Gonna make me come,” he panted, scrabbling at Kacchan’s fingers in an attempt at a warning. “I — oh — I’m gonna…! Come — I’m coming—!”

His body arched off the gurney, coming hard enough his toes curled. The squeezing around his cock drew even tighter in response, rhythmically pulsing to urge out his orgasm and drink it deep inside. Above him, Kacchan shook hard enough to rattle the gurney, fluid spraying from its slit to paint them both.

In the wake of being so vigorously milked, Izuku could do nothing but quiver.

When Kacchan let him go, he blearily looked up.

“Did you, uh…?”

But it ignored him, effortlessly lifting itself to stand. With a slick sound, the slit at its crotch closed up, the edges sealing together until it was barely visible. Then the pouch turned inside out, the flesh protruding from the creature’s body and expelling Izuku’s cum with a gush. Kacchan caught it in a vial, diligently collecting every drop.

Izuku’s cock tried to twitch, and Kacchan’s gaze leaped to it.

Izuku didn’t know how long they spent in the examination room, but it was enough to come at least twice more. Once with Kacchan’s long tongue wrapped around his shaft, and again buried to the hilt in its hot slit. Long enough to learn its body intimately; the taste of its skin, tongue, and cock — smoky, sweet, and sharp. Enough to recognise the gush of fluid it released when it came, feel it drown his lips and chin, drip sticky down his wrist.

Finally, once nothing it tried could make his cock stiff again, Kacchan relented. Throat parched and fingertips wrinkled, Izuku let it place him on the gurney and promptly passed out.

“I knew Sparks weren’t hostile.”

Another round of feedings and tests, back in Izuku’s holding room. Even though the place was unchanged, it suddenly felt like a cell: dull and empty by comparison with the dizzying bliss of the examination room.

Kacchan made a questioning grunt, digging out a fresh vial.

“I used to get into fights about it on forums,” Izuku admitted. “But, I mean, your technology is so advanced! If you wanted to attack Earth you’d have already done it.”

Kacchan made its harsh, barking laugh, flashing its teeth in agreement.

Izuku was quiet for a moment as Kacchan swabbed his cheek. It had been a long time since he thought about his home. The notion lingered, a bittersweet ache.

“We must be a long way from Earth by now,” he said quietly.

With a flick of its tail, Kacchan plucked the notebook from the ground. The stylus fit perfectly in its clawed hand as it began to draw: first a circle, then a spiralling series of rings surrounding it.

“Saturn?” Izuku asked, peering around Kacchan’s elbow.

It shook its head. Izuku squinted at the drawing for a moment before it hit him.

“Oh — orbit! Are we orbiting Earth?”

A nod.

Izuku looked up at its face, confused. “Why?”

Kacchan tapped him in the centre of the chest, then at the circle in the picture.

Izuku’s heart sank. “You’re… taking me back already?”

On a new page, Kacchan wrote, forming the characters with slow, painstaking strokes.

EXPERIMENT COMPLETE

“But… you can’t!” Izuku pushed past the barrier of Kacchan’s thick arms, knocking its hand aside. “We’re just getting started! I want to know you better, and you… Don’t you want to learn about me too?”

Kacchan reeled away, stepping back to put space between them. Teeth bared, it held the book in front of Izuku’s face and tapped forcefully at the drawing.

Izuku shoved the book aside and reached up. He was barely tall enough, desperately grasping at the sides of Kacchan’s head until he could yank its face closer. “Let me stay! Please? I want more time — this isn’t just science for me, Kacchan!”

Its scarlet eyes went wide.

Abruptly, it turned on its heel. Stashing its equipment, it made for the door without looking back, its tail thrashing a staccato rhythm.

“What about my samples?” Izuku called after it.

But the door had already slammed shut.

His next meal was nothing new to look at — but Izuku knew better. Snatching the bowl from the tray, he took it into his bed in the corner, huddling over to hide from the lenses as he pretended to eat. If the process for returning humans was anything like abduction, there were sedatives involved.

Luckily, there was no risk of accidentally falling asleep. Even lying on the mattress with his eyes closed, his heart pounded far too loudly for him to rest.

He wouldn’t let this chance slip through his fingers.

Before long he could hear the door open. Large, alien hands moved him onto a gurney once more, depositing him flat on his back. Although Izuku kept his eyes closed, calm in feigned sleep, he could feel the tips of his fingers quivering with nerves, barely disguised by the faint whir as the gurney hummed to life. Heavy feet padded behind, the heat of Kacchan’s body looming tall above his head. He counted just under thirty seconds of movement before, after the hum of another door closing, the gurney came to a stop.

It was foolish, but Izuku took the risk. He cracked an eye open.

The room was mostly empty. A huge hatchway occupied almost the whole of one wall, flanked by a panel lined with switches and flashing lights. In front of it, the floor was wide and bare — save for a single feature of note.

Atop another gurney lay a middle aged woman: flat on her back, deeply unconscious, and just as naked as he was.

Hastily, Izuku shut his eyes again.

Around him, feet padded to and fro. The entire room rumbled, like the thrumming of an engine far below, before a breeze hit Izuku’s face.

He tensed, ready to make his move at any moment. When the hum of a gurney started up again, it was quieter; more distant, with no buzz in the surface below his back. 

Izuku opened his eyes just in time to see Kacchan wheel the woman out through the open hatch.

This is it.

Instantly he jumped to his feet and lurched to the door. Closed: smooth, featureless, with no handle or hinge. Izuku scrabbled at it. No movement when he pushed, nowhere to pull or slide. Stepping back a few paces, he scanned  the wall frantically. No keyhole; no keypad. He would get no better chance than this, no more opportunities to find a way to stay, and with every passing second it was slipping away from him. Desperate, he lurched towards the nearest bank of machinery—

Only for a hot hand to seize him by the wrist, yanking him against a broad alien chest.

Kacchan’s eyes were wide. Its gaze darted over his body, a frantic series of clicks issuing from its vocal membrane.

“I didn’t take the drugs,” Izuku confessed. “I — I don’t want to go back yet. Please—”

Abruptly, Kacchan’s head lifted. A huge hand clamped over Izuku’s face, shoving him against the wall. Izuku scrabbled at its arm, still trying to plead his case against its scorching palm, until Kacchan made a rapid gesture covering its own mouth.

Frantically, Izuku nodded.

Kacchan let go and turned to the door. A faint light emitted from it, scanning its iris, before the door slid open and Kacchan stepped out.

In the corridor, Izuku could hear sounds. Several new sets of footsteps; more rattles and chuffs of alien voices. With both hands stifling his mouth, he tucked himself into the corner of the room and attempted not to breathe.

At last, the conversation seemed to slow: first one, then two sets of feet retreating. With a great hissing sigh like a steam engine, Kacchan returned.

As soon as the door had closed behind it, Kacchan whipped its head towards Izuku. Smoke lifted from its palms, turned forwards and out like weapons, and a ring of orange skin flared around its ears, outlining its face with a knife-sharp crest.

“I-I’m sorry.” Izuku didn’t dare venture out of his corner just yet, shrinking back in the face of its righteous fury. “I didn’t know you weren’t alone. I don’t want to get you in trouble, I just… didn’t want to leave.”

Saliva spattered from the creature’s fangs and onto Izuku’s face as it hissed.

“But…” Slowly, his mind was catching up. “You helped me.”

Kacchan faltered, its flared frills drooping.

“You did! You could have let me get caught.”

Izuku took a step forward. Before Kacchan could move away, he reached out to grasp one enormous thumb.

“Thank you,” he said.

Slowly, its hand turned to curl around his, two huge fingers spanning his palm. When Izuku dared to squeeze, he felt a pulse of heat in return.

Izuku frowned at the mirror. No matter what methods he tried or products he used, he couldn’t get his hair to sit neatly. Tongue poking from the corner of his mouth, he tried once again to smooth it into place — only for a stubborn curl to spring back out, mocking him.

“Izuku! Have you packed your emergency charger?”

“It’s all ready!” he called.

He gave his reflection another glare, but decided to give up. No point in fighting a losing war. Taking a few steadying breaths, he opened the bathroom door.

His mom was right outside.

“In case you get the sniffles,” she said, and pressed a pack of tissues into his hand.

Izuku blushed, even as he took them instinctually. “Mom, please! I’m an adult!”

“I know you are.” Watery-eyed but beaming, she smoothed his collar. “Have fun on your date, now.”

“H-huh?” Izuku almost dropped the tissues, before hastily stuffing them in his pocket. “I told you already, it’s just a research trip!”

“In your best shirt?” She scoffed affectionately. “You can’t hide from me.”

“It’s true,” he insisted, heat rising in his face.

She gave him a knowing look, but conceded. “Well, then. I’m sure your research partner will think you look very handsome.”

Izuku groaned, but didn’t argue.

“Be safe,” his mom insisted at the door.

The scent of dough and cheap soap filled his nose as she hugged him. He couldn’t help but squeeze her back, resting his cheek on her head for a moment.

“I will, mom.”

Knowing she was watching, Izuku was careful at first. Keeping a steady pace out the apartment, down the street towards the station — until he turned the corner and broke into a run.

Come on, come on. His feet pounded the pavement, blind and routeless, legs burning as they carried him out of town. Streets turned to lanes turned to paths, traffic and concrete giving way to wilder country, the scent of earth and greenery swallowing him up.

Finally, once empty fields surrounded him on all sides, he stopped.

Nothing moved. The air was clear and windless. Somewhere in the distance, birds sang.

When the sky began to shiver, he didn’t blink. A light beamed down around him, bright enough that his eyeballs ached, and a powerful wind flattened the grass.

Grinning wide and fearless, Izuku looked up.