Chapter Text
The vibes were off in UA’s library. What was normally a quiet, relaxed study space was made slightly less so with the addition of an intense, concentrated aura coming from one of the open work desks, so palpable it could’ve come from a Quirk.
But that wasn’t the case, because it came from Izuku Midoriya, pouring every last ounce of energy into filling out the notebook before him.
It was all part of his duty as a manager. Now that he had an actual client, that gave him something tangible to work toward. The motivation hit him like a truck as a result, and he found himself fully committed to all things managerial. Not only was he playing the part, but he looked the part as well; his sleeves were rolled up, his blazer was draped over his shoulders, an uncapped pen sat clenched between his teeth while another zoomed across the page, and he even wore a green-tinted visor cap around his head.
He let out a small, exhausted breath, leaning back in his chair while admiring the sketch of his client amongst the smorgasbord of Quirk theories and suggestions. It was all part of his unorthodox process, a way to help him better understand the user of the Quirk he was analyzing.
And boy, did he need it! Togaru Kamakiri was counting on Izuku to make him into a better hero, and with their first-ever meeting scheduled for later today, he couldn’t disappoint. It was like Midnight said, his performance reflected on Kamakiri’s, so he wasn’t willing to give anything less than his absolute best!
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Togaru stood in front of the oversized doors to Training Room 07, checking his phone to make sure this was the right one. Shortly after signing his contract, he and Midoriya exchanged numbers so they could keep in touch with whatever management stuff he had prepared for the hero student. He wasn’t quite sure what that entailed before, but given where he was, and how he was asked to bring his hero costume, the picture made itself clear.
Before opening the door, Togaru unsheathed a blade from his hand, lightly dragging his finger across the edge. If he pressed any harder, he’d draw blood, which is how he knew it was sharp enough. Thank god. He already made a big enough fool of himself during the Sports Festival - if he did the same in front of his manager, he’d never hear the end of it.
As soon as he was ready, the door to the training room flew open, startling the boy on the other side as he quickly slammed the notebook in his lap shut. “Kamakiri! You’re here! Great!”
“Yeah, you told me to come here,” he said like it was a no-brainer, which it was.
“I know. I was just worried…” He shook his head, casting the thoughts away. “Whatever. Let’s uh - let’s get down to business!”
“You mean combat?” Togaru assumed based on the training dummies set up across the room. What else was he supposed to do, shake hands with them?
“W-Well, yeah, but I more so meant your Quirk. I’m sure I’ve only seen a fraction of what you’re capable of, so tell me everything.” Midoriya’s pupils dilated with excitement, looking more bug-eyed than the bug standing in front of him.
The overenthusiasm weirded Togaru out, especially for a Quirk like his. ‘Might as well ask me for my home address while you’re at it.’ Still, he obliged. “I can produce blades from my skin. That’s kinda it. It’s a pretty simple Quirk.”
Little did he know, that answer did not suffice for Midoriya. “That’s it…? I feel like that’s leaving out a few key details. How many blades can you make at once? How big can they be? What are they made of? Can they take multiple forms, or are they restricted to that singular shape? What are the-”
“SLOW THE HELL DOWN!” Togaru barked, unable to keep up with Midoriya constantly running his mouth. ‘This is gonna be a whole thing with him, isn’t it?’
Midoriya forcibly shut his mouth, like he’d explode if he kept talking any longer. “S-sorry…” His voice was deathly quiet, in stark contrast to three seconds ago. “I just… I don’t agree with the notion that yours, or any Quirk, is inherently simple. Even if it only does one thing, there are still hundreds of different ways to do it. Maybe a practical demonstration is more your speed.”
He gestured to the dummies, and Togaru finally felt like they were on the same page. “About time.” Summoning a blade from each arm, he rushed toward the dummies without a second thought.
From there, everything was instinctual. He’d cut up countless trees and logs as part of his training, and these things couldn’t even compare! His slices were as quick and clean as a knife through butter, perfect for showing off what he was capable of without any uncooperative opponents holding him back.
Within minutes, over half the dummies were diced up like vegetables. As he approached the next one, he found his eyes glancing over his shoulder to gauge his manager’s reaction. Only, he wasn’t expecting the judgmental look in the other boy’s eyes, switching between him and the notebook which obscured the rest of his face.
Togaru lowered his blades as he came to a halt, earning a delayed reaction from Midoriya. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
“What the hell are you writing?” He squinted at the notebook’s cover, which read ‘Management Notebook for the Future Now.’
“O-oh, this?” Midoriya was quick to hide the notebook behind his back, like he had something to hide. “Nothing! Just - just taking some notes on your performance. That’s all.”
If he was trying to lie, he was doing a bad job at it. “Okay, are you gonna show me what you actually wrote in there, or what?”
His shoulders raised at his sides, almost touching his ears. “Um… I’m not sure that’s completely necessary. What’s important is the advice I give to you. The notebook just helps me collect my thoughts better.”
A frustrated snort escaped Togaru’s nostrils, leaving Midoriya on-edge as he turned back around. It was a sound enough explanation, but it didn’t make Midoriya come across as any less of a dork. Togaru let it go for now, focusing back on cutting up the dummies. But even as he did, the scratching of the pen against the notebook became a little louder in his mind.
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Once he was done slicing through the rest of the dummies, and Midoriya had finished writing god-knows-what in his notebooks, he was finally allowed to show off his hero costume. It was a simple design - just a dark green cloak with a matching mask, gray pants, and black combat boots - but it was one Togaru thought got the point across. His points, to be specific.
He just wished Midoriya felt the same.
He wasn’t sure what his manager’s opinion was, but he’d spent the past minute pacing in circles around Togaru, quizzically observing his costume from every possible angle. It was like he was a painting, and Midoriya was some kinda snobby critic who thought their opinion on art made them more important.
As the seconds dragged on with Midoriya’s curiosity still not satiated, Toagru decided enough was enough. “Are you gonna tell me what you think, or are you gonna hide that away in your notebook too?”
Midoriya startled in place, non-subtly hiding his notebook behind his back. “W-well, do you want my honest opinion?”
“Just spit it out.”
“As far as hero costumes go, I’d say it’s - er - on the lesser side…” His voice grew quieter with each word spoken, but Togaru still heard enough to piss him off.
“What?! What the hell’s wrong with it?” Midoriya flinched at his volume, shielding himself with his notebook. He had no clue why - he wasn’t even being that loud.
“Well, th-there’s nothing w-wrong with it, per se. The darkness of your cloak helps draw attention to your face, which is a good thing.”
“But?”
“B-but… the addition of a cloak in the first place is questionable, given the nature of your Quirk. I mean, it already looks partly torn up!” He gestured to the cloak’s edges, already in tatters due to weeks of Quirk use. “If one of your blades gets caught in the fabric in the middle of a fight, that could seriously leave you vulnerable.”
Togaru made sure Midoriya noticed him rolling his eyes. Of course he knew that - it’s why he made the cloak cut off at his arms. “They won’t get stuck. My blades are sharp enough to cut right through it!”
“Okay, but what if they’re not?”
“Well they are!” Midoriya flinched again, like a deer at the slightest provocation. For all Togaru knew, that might be his Quirk. “Besides, if my cloak does get torn up, I can just get another one. It’s not like they’re expensive to produce.”
“That’s a whole other issue…” he continued to argue back, his voice getting shakier by the minute. “Most heroes don’t exactly have disposable c-costumes. They switch them out every now and then, but most, on average, will last for years at a time.”
Togaru folded his arms at him, unaring. “Psh, so?”
“So, if civilians see you cutting up your own hero costume every day, they might start to see you as unreliable. The best course of action would be either to make it a part of your hero persona like Midnight, or update your costume to fix the issue. It all depends on what kind of hero you want to be.”
Midoriya eyed his client intently, posing it like an inquiry. “What kind of hero do I wanna be?” Togaru parroted. “The kinda hero who kicks ass, that’s what!”
Midoriya’s expression displayed little confidence in his answer. “Okay, but that’s still a pretty broad goal. Look at All Might and Endeavor. They both ‘kick ass’, but the way they do so earns them completely different reputations.” Togaru would admit he had a point - there was a reason he idolized Endeavor over All Might. “Let me rephrase. What do you want your hero persona to be? When villains, civilians, and even other heroes look at you, what kind of emotion do you want to elicit?”
Togaru opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The more he thought about it, the less he had to say, he realized. He always thought of himself as a simple guy; simple Quirk, simple motivations. But now his manager came along and tried to convince him there should be more to his reasoning? What for? What good would that do? He signed Midoriya’s contract to help make himself a better fighter, not to question everything about himself.
He already knew what he was, and there was no point in trying to change that…
“Kamakiri?” Midoriya snapped him out of his funk, prompting the mantis boy to turn and storm out of the training room.
“We’re done for today. I’m leaving.”
“Um… okay.” he lightly shook his head, knowing better than to argue against him. “Just… think about it, alright?”
Togaru gritted his teeth as he slammed the doors behind him. As much as he wanted to ignore Midoriya’s request, the questions continued floating around in his head throughout the rest of the day.