Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

        Prologue: Song Scarred Soul

        Patient

        Midoriya Izuku

        Quirk

        Soul song: Can hear the manifestation of a person’s health and experiences in musical form.

        Izuku frowned down at his notebook.

        It had been there all day, empty and staring back at him. If it were any other notebook the page would have been filled in a few minutes at most, but this notebook was mostly empty. Each page held only a few words at the top, and a single bullet point. He sighed and shut the notebook when the teacher entered the room. Whatever the teacher started off with was lost on Izuku as he glared down at the closed book.

        “…but you’re all going into the hero course anyways! And you have such fabulous quirks, but no using them in school!”

Izuku leaned over his desk, hands over his ears. The music played, regardless of his hearing, but he still tried every time. With everyone showing off, their songs had risen to a fever pitch out of nowhere.

        “Sensei!”

        Izuku groaned. Bakugo’s song killed the rest with a long, low note, then rumbled to life as if to fill the space they left behind, “Don’t lump me in with these extras!”

        Bakugo Katsuki was all deep intimidating notes. His song played like the slow march of a breaking storm: he lorded himself over them, threatening but not dangerous yet. A bolt of lightning rang in the music when he leapt onto his desk and began his monologue. Izuku’s eyes widened as he heard something ominous in his own song and he cowered in his seat as it grew louder.

        “Aren’t you also going to Yuuei, Midoriya?” Bakugo’s music stopped.

Izuku sighed as a sad note began to peal out through the room.

        The class promptly burst into laughter.

        The walk home was long and dreary. It took all his mental effort to silence his song, just so that he could have a moment’s peace. He didn’t need the melancholy background noise to tell him that he was feeling depressed.

        “If you think you’ll have a better quirk in your next life… go take a swan dive off the roof!”

        Izuku’s quirk came with a lot of benefits. Knowing how a person was feeling and the depth of someone’s emotions, having a few moments (in the case of anything significant) to react before bad things happened, lie detection... Izuku wished more than anything that he didn’t know Bakugo’s feelings. Hate wasn’t the right word. Bakugo didn’t hate people. He was determined to grind Izuku into dust through sheer force of pride, just in case people dared to compare them.

Izuku stopped in front of the bridge and glared at the pavement. A distant memory played through his mind, playing a deep melancholy sound in between the notes of his song.

        “I’m sorry Izuku! I’m so sorry!”

        No! I decided back then to keep my chin up keep moving forward! He stormed into the tunnel, letting his song slowly rise until it matched his determination.

        Halfway down the tunnel he heard another song slithering through the tunnel, just before his own music changed into something ominous. Without that half second of warning, he’d have been caught in the arms of the slime.

        “Hey, hey, you’re pretty good? How’d you know I was here?” A chuckle echoed from the tunnel as Izuku backed into the sunlight, “I don’t have time to talk, actually. I’ll figure your quirk out for myself…!”

        The slime grunted in surprise when Izuku dodged the next tentacle, and then growled when he managed to dodge the third swipe.

        “Stay still!” Izuku tripped and fell, eyes widening as the music darkened. Just before the slime reached him, something new assaulted his ears.

        A bell suddenly rang through the air. Izuku watched wide eyed as a manhole cover hit the street, and the owner of the new song emerged from the sewer. A drumroll echoed through the street until Izuku was sure that everyone would be able to hear this song. If Bakugo’s song was all pride and intimidation, this one roared defiance and tugged at something deep inside of Izuku, as if it were pulling him into the music and grinning ear to ear all the while. A man in cargo pants and a tight white shirt crawled out of the sewer, laughing as he entered the fray.

        “Fear not!”

Izuku’s eyes widened. He’d never heard this song in person, but sometimes, if he talked to the right people, he had heard traces of it. It echoed, even when someone had only seen the owner. “I am here!”

        The sludge villain tried to fight, but Izuku could tell there was no point. Heart songs never lied, and he was afraid of the giant man who had crawled out of the sewer. A blast of wind tore out of the tunnel, scattering the sludge and leaving Izuku in even more awe than before.

        He stared as All Might zipped by, scooping up the slime in soda bottles before nodding to himself and turning to Izuku.

        “Sorry for getting you caught up in that, young man! He got away from me in the sewers!” All Might laughed, and his song rose to accompany him. Izuku’s eyes widened as the hero spoke, “Young man? Young man are you all right?”

        “Eh?” Izuku blushed. He’d been so wrapped up in the music…! “Ahhh! So-s-sorry! I was, I couldn’t, I didn’t mean…!”

        “No worries!” All Might laughed again, but instead of rising… the music scratched. Izuku’s eyes widened again, only to turn his eyes to the sidewalk as quickly as possible. When he focused on it he could hear… something odd about All Might’s song. “Is there anything I can do for you, young man? Were you harmed?”

        “N-no… I, uh... heard him coming.” Izuku mumbled.

        All Might nodded and tucked the bottles into his pocket. Izuku shut his eyes as the wind kicked up, then flinched as All Might opened up his notebook… “Ah no!”

        All Might paused with the marker just a millimeter from the page.

        “S-sorry, but um, could you sign this one…?” Izuku hesitantly asked as he pulled Hero Analysis thirteen from his bag and tentatively held it out. All Might nodded, handing both back to him.

        “Of course! Is there something special about that empty notebook?” Izuku stared at the autograph for a moment before he closed the book and looked at his empty Heart Song journal.

        “I… my quirk lets me hear music. I’ve been trying to put it into words but it’s hard to describe a person’s song.”        

        “I see. That’s an interesting quirk. And… that other one, Hero Analysis for the Future, was it? Are you planning to be a hero?”

        Izuku hesitated and turned his ear to the right. He could almost…

        “Young man? Are you all right?”

        “Did you get hurt?” All Might froze. His music slowed and trailed off, replaced by something Izuku could only describe as quiet dread.

        “…come again?” Izuku’s eyes widened. He’d done this before. Mom had always warned him about asking things like that, about people’s privacy and how sometimes it was better to keep quiet.

        “I… sorry, I shouldn’t ask, but… your side,” Izuku glanced at All Might’s right side and shuddered, “I wasn’t sure at first but now I can tell, it’s definitely coming from your side. You’re hurt, right?”

        All Might’s music changed slowly. Izuku was only just now hearing the dissonance between the two sounds, and it was… odd. As if the first song was fighting against the second, trying to drown it out. His first song was full of gravity and sunshine and people cheering, of victory and the wind in his hair. The second song was tired and plucky with long notes and worn instruments. The longer the first song tried to drown out the second, the more it began to fail. Izuku’s eyes widened as it missed first one note, then another.

        “All Might?!” All Might stared at him as if he’d stumbled upon something horrible. For a moment, the smile looked more like a marble sculpture than All MIght’s signature grin. Before he could ask, the hero laughed again and spun around.

        “Nonsense, my boy! I ended that fight in a single blow! Honestly, I’m not that old!” Another laugh echoed down the street. All Might crouched and bounced on his heels.

        “Ah, wait, All Might, something…”

        “A pro hero battles not only enemies, but also time!” Izuku was moving before he could think.

        “Thanks for your support!” All Might shouted and leapt in the same motion, dragging Izuku into the air. Somewhere in the middle of their flight a trumpet pealed.

        “That was too dangerous, young man. You could have been seriously injured!” All Might huffed.

Izuku and his music both wheezed as he got his breath back.

        “B-b-but…”

        “No buts!”

Izuku’s teeth ground together as the tug of war between All Might’s songs grew worse. Even his normal, bright song was groaning under the strain.

        “You can’t! If you leave now…!” All Might glared back over his shoulder, and suddenly his song SNAPPED. Izuku screamed at the noise, watching in terror as All Might began steaming and cursing himself under his breath. The second song quieted down as the steam grew to cover him, and then…

        “ALL MIGHT?!” Izuku stared at the gaunt man left standing on the rooftop. He couldn’t believe that this was All Might, but… this music was definitely coming from his side, same as it had before.

        “Calm down, kid.” A fountain of blood poured from the man’s mouth, “I’m All Might, there’s no need to scream.”

        “B-b-b-b-b-b…!” The man sighed as Izuku covered his mouth, if only to stop the stuttering.

        “Jeez, you’re something else. No point in fighting, now,” All Might slumped down against the railing, “How’d you know about my side?”

        Izuku had to peel his hands from his mouth, and his voice was weak when he did.

        “Ah, th-the music… Your song changed… and there’s something coming from your side…”

        “My song changed…?” All Might stared at him in disbelief.

        Izuku sighed, then took a step forward.

        “Um… I c-can show you…?”

        All Might watched him carefully, but when Izuku extended a hand, he took it. Izuku chewed his lip for a moment, then took a breath and pulled All Might’s song out and played it aloud.

        All Might’s eyes widened in shock and Izuku smiled a bit.

        “The, um, your side…” Izuku frowned and reached a little deeper, trying to be as delicate as possible as he pulled out the broken instrument. All Might frowned when he heard the discord in the song. After a minute or so Izuku released All Might’s hand and gripped his backpack until his hands hurt.

        “People, I m-mean, everyone has a song. They’re all different, and it changes every single day. Y-yours… It sounds like someone who’s wounded, or sick.”

        “…That’s a very odd quirk,” All Might coughed, “I can see how you’d have trouble putting it into words. I doubt I could make sense of it at all.”

        Izuku bit his cheek. He wanted to say something, but… he waited instead. All Might sighed when he realized what Izuku was waiting for.

        “Five years ago, I was wounded in a fight with a villain,” Izuku hissed as All Might pulled up his shirt to reveal the scar, “I’ve kept it out of the media, but I’m only able to work about three hours a day. The damage, and the surgeries, were extensive. But I’m the Symbol of Peace.”

        Izuku wasn’t surprised to hear All Might’s theme play faintly behind the rueful song his injury gave off. For a moment it seemed like All Might’s eyes were glowing.

        “I will not be stopped by something like this.”

        Izuku believed him.

        “Was there anything else you needed, young man?” All Might groaned as he stood up. Izuku hesitated, but in the end, he’d pushed it down too long.

        “I, um... do you think I can be a hero…?” Izuku asked as All Might stared at him blankly for a moment, “I… I’ve always had this dream… to be a hero, like you, fearlessly saving everyone with a smile. B-but everyone says I can’t… do it.”

        Silence stretched out between them, All Might staring down at him and Izuku looking at All Might’s feet. After a few moments, Izuku could guess what was coming. All Might’s song grew so stressed that it hurt his ears. His own song died quietly, leaving him alone in the face of All Might’s answer.

        “…I’m sorry, young man,” All Might sighed, “Heroes must put their lives on the line every day. With a quirk like yours, you could surely help people. But, a hero? That may be a bit too far. I cannot ask someone to put their lives on the line for a dream like that.”

        A single, mournful chime rang inside Izuku’s chest.

        “I do not think you can be a hero.”

        Izuku couldn’t remember the last time he was able to walk without forcing his quirk to be silent. He wondered if All Might had killed his quirk along with his dreams, but… that wasn’t quite right.

        He glanced up when he heard the shout, scowling as he realized that he’d walked to the scene of a crime without paying attention. Explosions and fire rang out from the other side of the crowd. Considering the number of people between Izuku and the fight, it wasn’t surprising that he couldn’t hear the songs. Large groups of people were harder to sort through. Their songs floated at the edge of his mind like static, waiting for him to poke through and find whichever he wanted to listen to.

        After a few minutes of dejectedly staring at the crowd, he stopped fighting. He crossed the street and stumbled along the back of the crowd till...

        That…! Izuku choked when he saw the broad, inhuman grin lacing the slime. Behind the smile was a person, struggling against the grip. Without meaning too, he started picking up on the conversations in the crowd. A few minutes… I barely survived one minute, how could someone…

        When he locked eyes with the victim, his body moved.

        Toshinori stared at the burning alley and the slime villain within. He watched as the heroes were fended off by the boy’s quirk even as the school kid tried fighting back. Even if they wanted to, no one on the scene knew how to handle a situation like that. It was a no-win scenario for most.

        If only I hadn’t stalled with that kid. Toshinori gripped his side as he listened to the crowd talk about ‘All Might.’ His hand tightened painfully around his scar when they asked where he was, whether or not the villain had gotten away.

        I’m pathetic. How could I…

        Toshinori’s eyes widened when he heard the music. It came from nowhere and everywhere, as if someone had plugged in speakers and begun blasting the song through the alley. At first it was muted and uncertain and full of despair. Then the strings faded and gave way to a steady beat.

        The crowd watched as the boy took off running into the alley, and Toshinori spewed blood at the sight. As the boy ran, the music grew louder. People screamed, the heroes lunged, and Toshinori felt time slow to a crawl. For a moment, the music slowed and the screams of the people died away and Toshinori may as well have been right beside them to hear the first boy say

        “You… You looked like you needed saving…!” Toshinori felt something well up inside of him.

        No.

        He felt the music pulling at him. The music didn’t thunder along with his heart or shake him to the core with its metal. Despite the volume, it felt quiet. Firm. A gentle push on the back. Eyes turned on the horizon, and the dream waiting there. Feet planted firmly on the ground,  moving forward faster and faster until he was running.

        A reminder of who he was.

        A reminder of where he had started.  

        One for All burned when he seized the guttering flame and began to swell in spite of its sputtering. The music changed until it was something more familiar, yet alien all the same. If the first had been young and optimistic this one laughed and charged forward, pushing back fear and doubt through sheer force of will. He felt the sun on his face and the wind in his hair and even while his body burned and fought against him the music made him feel alive.

        “The lesson I left you with… I should practice what I preach!” He seized the boys just before the slime could hit them and drew back his left fist, “A pro should always be ready to risk his life!”

        When it was over, as the police collected the slime and people cheered and talked about the weather, All Might heard the music begin to fade. The song took the feeling with it, leaving him with the unpleasant sensation of holding his muscle form for too long. He watched as the boys were lectured and praised respectively, and his eyes lingered more on the smaller boy.

        Toshinori had travelled the world over and he’d seen plenty of odd quirks. When he’d been in the hospitals there were several empathy quirks and endorphin quirks. Mind quirks were rare, music quirks were uncommon, sensory quirks were usually unique and almost always strange unless they were simple voice quirks.

        He wanted to say that it was the boy’s quirk that inspired him. The music had been beyond him. No words could describe it. Only feelings could come close. Music, ordinary music, did not reach into a person and shake them to their core, or fill them with so much passion.

        Toshinori didn’t know what to think of it.

        He decided it was the boy’s actions that had inspired him and turned back to the reporters.

        Bakugo’s song had lost its thunder. It struggled to keep up as the boy walked away. Seeing Bakugo like that made Izuku sad, even if… even if Bakugo was right, in the end.

        He recognized the tune coming from the alley before he reached it and paused. All Might’s music had been exhilarating before, but it was more subdued now. Izuku pinched his lip, then smiled.

        It still sounded like victory.

        Izuku hid his smile when All Might slid into the street and posed dramatically. With a painful screech All Might’s song caved, giving way to the trudging tune of his secret form.

        Not ten minutes later, he made a deal with All Might, completely unaware that he was projecting his song aloud as he walked home.

        “Mom, what song are you playing?” Inko glanced over at Izuku.

        His eyes were wide for a boy of four years old. Wide and curious and sparkling.

        “Music? I’m not playing any music Izuku.” She had looked away from the dishes and watched him tilt his head to the side.

        “Where’s that sound coming from then?”

        “What sound?”

        “The music!” Looking back at him, she smiled. He had looked as sure as only a child could.

        At the time, though, she’d been…

        “Izuku, playing tricks isn’t nice.”

        “But Mom, I’m not…”

        “Hush now and finish your homework.”

        Her quirk was practical. Nothing flashy or extraordinary, but useful. Hisashi, for all the strength of his quirk, had never been anything but ordinary. When he was four and a half without one of their quirks, Inko started paying a bit more attention.

        He was six when he learned how to project. They had seen enough doctors and been through enough exams to know he had a quirk. Each doctor had a different opinion, and they were all at least a little bit right. Izuku’s quirk was sensory. Izuku’s quirk seemed to be mostly invisible. Izuku’s quirk may affect other people in some small way, given Inko’s quirk (she never let on how that last one stung).

        Izuku had been so excited that day, though he wouldn’t say why. He’d come home bruised and scuffed up again, but young boys were just like that, weren’t they? She patched him up and smiled gently as he bounced in the chair. When she’d asked, he simply beamed the widest smile she’d ever seen (ignoring those times he tried to rival All Might) and said he’d gotten her a present.

        “I wanna show you a song! It’s the best song in the whole world!”

        Of course his giddiness was contagious, and they were planning on going to her favorite little café for dinner, so she let him keep his secret. They dressed up and left around seven. After the meal was over, he’d gotten serious.

        “Mom, can you hold my hand? I think I need to touch you.” She’d been confused, but she’d reached across the table. When he took her hand, his face scrunched up.

        The sound was slow and quiet. Not difficult to hear, but quiet. Strings sang like ocean waves and the wind on an early summer’s breeze. A steady, somber beat padded along beneath humming woods and an occasional ring of windchimes. It sounded like candlelight on the beach the first time Hisashi had kissed her and the way she’d cried when they first held Izuku and made her feel as warm as she’d felt when she his smile earlier that evening.

        “Izuku, what…” Izuku beamed.

        “It’s your song, mom. The best song in the whole world!”

        That memory, no matter how many years passed, made her throat hurt and her chest tighten. After that, they’d talked about his quirk. She learned of all the years she’d missed with his quirk, telling him that that he was just imagining things. He told her of all his times trying to understand the songs, trying to show people or put it to words. She’d laughed when he talked about trying to learn some bigger words to fit the songs, only to learn that the kanji themselves also had songs, and those were even stranger than a person’s song.

        After that, she’d watched as he took off learning about his quirk. Staring at his back as he went made the ache in her chest worse every time he learned something new. Because, even if his quirk was something amazing and indescribable and beyond her, something plagued her. Something dark and nauseating permeated every new discovery and little moment that he told her about. It infected every time he wanted to show her a song, every time he asked her for help.

        Deep down, she knew his quirk wouldn’t make him a Hero.

        Sometimes after he went to sleep, she wondered if not telling him was worse than letting him try.

        She wasn’t sure what had changed. He’d come home after the mud-man incident with that old spark in his eyes. It reminded her of the day he’d showed her ‘her song,’ and that cut deeper than any knife.

        He didn’t tell her about his day. Instead, they talked about the incident, and he went to bed early. She heard him slip out early the next morning, and she was waiting when he came back sweaty and exhausted. They didn’t talk much after that, except when he asked for a few things. Dumbbells, some track suits, a different diet. He ate more and talked less. She watched him walk through the house like a zombie and work out even when it looked like he was ready to cry. She asked a few of her friends what she should make of it, and they weren’t entirely sure what to think either.

        Just let him be. Even if he can’t be a hero, it’s good for him, you know? It sounds like he’s working hard.

        Inko knew better.

        Izuku always worked hard.

        He confirmed her worst fears months later, when she found the application pages among his homework. She’d pulled it out of the pile without even thinking and stared as he did pushups in front of the television.

        Why are you doing this Izuku?

        He came to her a week before the exam, looking conflicted.

        “You already know, don’t you?” She chewed her lip.

        “ I… I saw the application…”

        “Are… would you rather I don’t try?”

        “Izuku… not if that’s what you want. I’m just worried for you.”

        The talk was short, and they hadn’t spent much time together afterward. He was studying in his room, and she was staring at the reflection in the silent television screen. She wondered what he had been expecting. Why had he asked her that?

        For all the years since that night at the café, she’d listened to him talk about his quirk. Suddenly she felt like it all hit her at once. Izuku wouldn’t look at her, but she realized that he didn’t have to. He could hear every word, every thought, because they were woven into her song. Ever since she’d picked the app from his homework, he knew that she was worrying.

        No. He’d always known.

        It took everything she had not to break, because she might have broken her son.

        She woke up the next morning, tired, nursing a raspy voice, tucked into bed with no memory of getting there herself. Izuku didn’t avoid her eyes, but he was quicker than usual on his way out the door. As he made his way to school, Inko sat at the table and thought. When she finally got up, she’d decided that, if he was determined to be a hero, then she would match his determination.

        He needed a mother who could support his dream, no matter what.

        She would be that for him, no matter what.

        When they’d begun, ten months ago, Toshinori hadn’t known much about Midoriya. Really, he’d known only two things for sure. First, Midoriya had a sensory quirk that manifested as… music, for lack of a better term. Second, he’d thrown his useless self into a no-win scenario on pure instinct.

        Slowly, over the course of their training, Toshinori’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. He was raising a successor, after all. Even if he was to die along the way… he wanted to know who Midoriya was beneath all the fidgeting and the muttering and the odd way he looked at people. Well, that’s how he thought about it anyway. He started slow and asked about Midoriya’s quirk. Midoriya gave him the name, and a short description.

        My quirk is called, um, Soul song… I can hear the manifestation of a person’s health and experiences in musical form.

        Toshinori had hummed and thought nothing of it until that evening, when he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

        “Midoriya,” He’d stopped the boy before training the next day, earning a curious look in response, “can you tell me about the mud-man incident again?”

        Midoriya hadn’t really seemed to understand, but Toshinori goaded him into it. Then Toshinori stopped him mid-story to make sure.

        “Ah, wait, how did you dodge him?” Midoriya blinked a few times.

        “My song changed and then I heard his song coming from the tunnel behind me.”

        “…You said you knew it was behind you because you could hear it, right?” Midoriya nodded. “So… you can hear the songs of everyone around you? Even if you don’t know they’re there?”

        “Well, yeah,” Midoriya frowned. “People’s songs are always there. I hear them like footsteps.”

        As if that said it all.

        In a way, it did.

        “Midoriya, you can hear my injury from my wound, yes?” Midoriya nodded. Toshinori stared at him for a few moments before he coughed and waved the boy down to the beach.

        Number three: Midoriya’s quirk gave him a lead on anyone trying to sneak up on him.

        After three months, Toshinori was… confused. He’d taken to writing the list of things he learned in his phone, and he grew more worried about it with each passing day.

        Midoriya

• One: has the soul of a hero.

• Two: Seems to think his quirk is ill suited for heroics.

        Midoriya’s Quirk

• One: Can gauge a person’s well-being, emotionally and physically, after a few minutes of listening.

• Two: Allows him to hear people coming similar to any physical noise.

• Three: Warns him of anything important/dangerous happening a few seconds beforehand.

• Four: Capable of projection, in small doses and quiet volumes.

• Five: Sarcastic?

• Six: Objects have songs too, sometimes.

• Seven: Music can be influenced, and so influences the person to whom it belongs.

        Toshinori was impressed by the what he’d learned. More often than not, though, he found himself wondering more about what Midoriya left out. For being a fanboy and obsessing over other people’s quirks, the boy had all but written off his own. Just thinking back on their conversation about the mud-man made Toshinori wonder just how much the boy actually relied on his quirk in general.

        When the boy collapsed, Toshinori wanted to be upset. Instead, before he could finish his lecture, he heard the music again. Instead of the optimistic, steady beat he’d heard back in the alley, Midoriya’s quirk played something insistent. It halted Toshinori, and when Midoriya looked up and exclaimed that he had to work harder than anyone else, Toshinori felt the music shake him down to his bones.

        He’s looking that far to the future, huh…

        When he revised the plan, Toshinori thought back to the slime villain incident. He thought of the songs he’d heard, and how it had affected him.

        “Midoriya, would you show me the song that plays when I’m in my hero form?” Midoriya had looked surprised, but excited as he accepted. Toshinori’s smile hurt when he heard the music playing. It was the same music that had driven him to save Midoriya in the alley, just after Midoriya had given his conviction in words.

        Toshinori blinked and looked down at Midoriya in shock.

        His quirk… played my own song for me? With that much effect? Midoriya smiled and went back to hauling the junk gladly. He doesn’t inspire people because of who he is… He inspires them in spite of it. But… that’s not quite right either.

        Toshinori saw a few things that worried him, too. Midoriya didn’t talk about having friends. He never spent any time outside of school with other kids his age or talk about anyone but his mother. Sometimes, if Toshinori guided him along, Midoriya would talk about times he went out to learn about his quirk. He enjoyed talking about those little adventures most of the time, because they led to him muttering about heroes and quirks and their songs. But they were short and littered with trouble. For the life of him Toshinori wondered how someone like Midoriya managed to find so much trouble in the first place.

• Eight: Gives subtle information about quirks and intentions.

        Around month seven, he noticed the music more often. He was surprised by the music and the boy both. Several times he caught the sound just before Midoriya lifted something that seemed a bit too heavy, or when he pushed past what should have been his limit. Occasionally, when Midoriya looked out over the ocean, Toshinori felt the music whispering quietly between them. Even if he couldn’t understand or put the sounds to words, he found himself looking forward to hearing that music. It happened more when he spoke up and encouraged Midoriya, so he began offering more inspiration. He learned when to offer it and how.

        He realized (a bit too late) that when Midoriya wasn’t letting the music play, he was worried. In the ninth month, the music tended to sputter and die just after he’d accomplished something. Midoriya was guarded and quiet. For some reason, he was more apologetic than before as well. Toshinori could feel the boy’s gaze on his back often, and when he turned to look Midoriya pushed himself even harder. Whatever was bothering him was pushing him even harder than before (considering his self-destructive nature that wasn’t a good thing).

        On the morning of the exam, he arrived at six to find Midoriya already finished. More than finished. Suddenly the sun broke over the horizon and Toshinori heard something ring out across the shore. A battle cry reverberated from Midoriya’s chest, but more than that his song began screaming defiance alongside him with more body than Midoriya could ever manage himself. It blew like a fierce gale at Toshinori’s back, urging him forward. Coals inside of him suddenly blazed to life, drawing One for All out before Toshinori could do so himself.

        When he caught the boy and looked him over, Toshinori finally realized what he’d been trying to put his finger on for ten months.

• Nine: He inspires people by being who he is, because who he is brings out the best in everyone.

        Izuku stared up at the gates of Yuuei, shaking like a leaf.

        I’m really here?! Songs passed by him constantly, all echoing with a sense of awe and determination. A few were laced with worry and doubt, one was definitely sick, that one over there…

        “MOVE, DEKU, or I’ll kill you…!” Izuku bounced out of the way as the storm rolled past him. Bakugo’s music had grown even more wild than it had a year ago, if that was possible, but he had avoided picking on Izuku ever since the incident. Maybe they weren’t friends, but it was a start. Izuku had always loved listening to Bakugo’s song. Despite everything, it was one of his favorites.

        I… I need to do my best too. Izuku swallowed and forced himself to smile. This is it… my first step…!

        Before he could step forward, he paused. Somewhere, just over his shoulder judging from the sound, was a song. Normally he would have taken it in and kept moving but this…

        He’d never heard anything like it.

        Izuku spun around, catching the attention of a brown hair girl with pink cheeks and a scarf. Before he could remind himself that he was staring (and obviously making the girl uncomfortable), the song washed over him.

        Her song was bubbles floating in a chilly spring morning. Bubbles that popped with a flash and a giggle, like children running barefoot through the snow. Chimes reminiscent of his mother’s song broke through, only to be muted when she frowned at the strange boy who was staring at her… wait…

        “Ah, So-s-sorry…!” Izuku bowed frantically, turning his eyes to the sidewalk. The song was quieter now, and the bubbles were full of smoke instead of light. A deep bass note thrummed beneath her tune that reminded him of Bakugo’s thunder, but instead of breaking through the sky, hers clung and drifted like a thick, creeping fog of starlight.

        After a moment, she laughed, mixing the smoking bubbles with the shining ones.

        “That… It’s fine… Please stand up… People are looking…”

        Izuku blushed and kept his eyes firmly on the ground.

        “I, um, good luck…” Izuku said as he turned and walked away, suddenly filled with the urge to suppress his quirk until he was through with the exam. He had One for All, anyways.

        Ochako watched as the weird boy left. He’d looked really embarrassed, but the way he was staring had been… weird. Like he was looking through her, or barely looking at her at all. She shivered, feeling a bit violated and a bit… flattered? No, she decided. Not flattered. Just weird.

        Katsuki was quiet throughout the lecture. With Deku sitting beside him, it was almost impossible to listen to Present Mic’s explanation of the practical. As soon as the hero walked on stage, Izuku had started giving off a faint music that sounded like a puppy staring up at a person.

        Shit doesn’t even make sense. Katsuki growled. Deku never made any sense. Not since Katsuki had beat him up and sent the boy home with the biggest smile anyone had ever seen. People around them didn’t notice the music, of course. Until they did. Then they hated Deku, same as Katsuki.

        “Whoever is giving off that awesome vibe, please turn off all your music for the presentation!” Present Mic shouted.

Katsuki blinked. Suddenly Deku was blushing and ducking in his seat.

        The revelation that the nerd was projecting without thinking about it was… new. Deku’s music quirk was useless, sure, but why was it changing? Why could other people hear it?

        Halfway through the lecture, someone stood up and yelled at Deku for being rude to the other examinees, even though the idiot had already turned his quirk off. That was pretty funny, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the rage that was starting to build in Katsuki’s gut. Deku glanced over at him a few times, worried (and for good goddamn reason), before he scuttled out of the theater in fright. Watching the little nerd flee was about as satisfied as Katsuki would get ‘til he got to actually kill things, he decided.

        Toshinori stared at the screen, watching as the students took off through the streets of the facilities. Every time Midoriya, or the blonde boy with the explosions, appeared on screen Toshinori followed them closely. Bakugo (Toshinori had to think about that one) was a star from the beginning. Any robots who got too close were decimated with accuracy and ferocity that was more like an animal than a teenager. Midoriya… Midoriya was flunking. Hard. If he was honest, Toshinori hadn’t expected the practical to go well, but… he’d expected a little bit more. Midoriya was running around frantically, not doing anything productive at all.

        When he heard the music start up from nowhere Toshinori finally realized what Midoriya meant all those months ago, talking about his quirk. A few moments after the music started up, someone pressed the button and released the zero pointers. Toshinori focused on ground beta, watching carefully. Quietly the music began to ramp up, changing from something desperate…

        “Is someone playing music? What’s going on?” Toshinori blinked in surprise as the teachers began searching themselves.

        They can hear it? Something resonated in Toshinori, before he could ask, and he spun to face the screen. Apparently, several of his fellow teachers had the same idea, because they all turned to look.

        Toshinori grinned. Midoriya’s song had grown throughout their training. Optimism and determination had been given some spine and pushed to the limit. A frantic, rushing beat forced the teachers up onto their feet in shock as the quiet green haired boy raced toward the robot.

        “What’s he thinking?!”

        Ochako stared as the creepy green haired boy began running towards her. She’d only paused for a second, wondering where the ominous music was coming from, when the rubble had trapped her ankle. Now she had to be saved by… her eyes widened as he ran past her and crouched-

        The frenzied beat gave way to a long, bright chorus. Some of the frenzy was still there, but the only thing Ochako could hear was-

        “SMAAAAAAAAASH!” Between the boy’s leap and his fist striking the face of the robot, Ochako’s breath caught.

The music was definitely coming from above, from that boy, and quietly, she heard something come from the rocks beside her. A quiet tune full of awe, and why not? Above her, the boy was ringed in a halo of sunbeams, facing down a massive robot and glowing… wait, glowing?

        When he struck, Ochako squeaked. The impact (even on the ground, ten stories beneath him, his attack created a gale that cleared the rubble from her ankle) caved in the face of the robot with enough force to crack the pavement beneath her feet. A long moment passed, leaving him suspended there in the sky.

        Ochako hoped that she wasn’t the only one who’d seen.

        Before she could be truly grateful, the boy began to fall. The music was back, but instead of frantic, it was insistent and afraid. Ochako bit her cheek and slapped the first spare part she could find, pushing it up into the air and leaping on as it rose.

        For a week after the exam, Inko wasn’t entirely sure what to do. She caught him smiling at the fish they were having for dinner and… well, she’d been a bit frantic over the whole thing. He wasn’t talking to her yet, but she’d started hearing Izuku’s ‘music’ playing throughout the house at odd times. The sound worried her.

        He sounded… empty.

        When he gave him the letter and he disappeared into his room, she worried just outside the door. She heard some scuffling, a frantic shout of… no, couldn’t be All Might. Couldn’t be.

        She didn’t stop worrying until she heard the sound of trumpets and pure, unbridled joy coming through the door. Quietly, she slipped out and went to buy a little celebration desert.

Chapter Text

         Alternate Chapter Title: No one is really sure what to do with a Green-Haired Boombox 

        Patient

        Midoriya Izuku

        Given Quirk

        One for All: Inherits the power stockpiled by all previous wielders of the quirk. Can be passed on through force of will. Includes eight lifetimes of tragic memories and an arch-nemesis.

        Born Quirk

        Soul song: Can hear the manifestation of a person’s health and experiences in musical form.

        The door was too big . Izuku hesitated just outside the door, staring up at where it met the ceiling. After a moment, he took a breath and shut his eyes and began listening carefully to the sound coming from inside the room.

        Bakugo’s storm boiled, cracking and roaring and boiling upward faster than Izuku had ever heard it. Forget frantic, the song sounded more like a charging army than a drumbeat. If Izuku was right, he was arguing with someone.

        Beneath Bakugo’s song was another, more… even melody. Izuku could barely even call it a melody, really. Very few sounds made up the majority of the song. What he heard was… light hearted, calm and steady. Every few moments, a deep note of disappointment broke the rhythm, only to disappear. Shortly afterward, a few high pitch notes rang out as the person tried again. He guessed it was someone single minded, probably dealing with Bakugo.

        There were a few other songs coming from the classroom: a song made entirely of lightning, firing off so that each arc was a note and long steady strings of bass notes that Izuku could only compare to cables conducting and playing off every shot; a song that seemed entirely too ordinary until he listened closely and heard something like the steady pounding of feet while men stared at a bonfire; an… opera? Yes, that was definitely an opera coming from the back of the room, quiet and high-class but full of… cracks. Not breaks in the music, but hesitant moments throwing the entire song off key.

        Closer to the door was a cluster of students: Shouts and fistfights and rowing beneath a storm in the sunshine overwhelmed some of the others, forcing Izuku to push through that… He paused, watching some of the beats in that loud song skip before he finally pushed through. A song made of bubblegum and electricity (not ‘lightning,’ but ‘humming,’ live wire kinds of electricity) raced and beat in a steady, constantly changing rhythm. Someone was singing quietly in the background of the others, swaying along to a slow jazz tune checked by what sounded suspiciously like a heartbeat. He listened to that for a moment, reveling in the simplicity and the depth of that song.

        Near the back were a pair of odd songs. Both were nearly entirely muted. One was a simple set of beats that kept dissolving into its parts, creating little songs within the song for a few moments before they joined the main tune.

        Izuku took one look at the other song and backed slowly away from the door.

        “Oh, it’s you!” Izuku blinked as the bubbles began popping from right beside him .

        “Eeh?!” He blushed, half leaping into the air as the cute girl with the strange song appeared in the hallway. On instinct he turned his eyes to the floor and struggled to silence his quirk. “S-sorry I was in your way again wasn’t I?”

        “Huh? Oh, no! I wanted to say thanks! For saving my life I mean! I was worried you didn’t get in because of that whole ‘one point’ thing, but you’re here! Just like Present Mic said!”

        “Ah, b-but you had to sp-speak up for me…,” Izuku stammered, blushing crimson as the girl rambled. She blinked at him with wide eyes.

        “How’d you…,” The girl cocked her head to one side. “Are you playing music?”

        Izuku froze and stared at her.

        “Eh…? You… can hear that?” The girl stared at him.

        “So that is you? I remember something like this from the exam. Is your quirk music-based? But…” Izuku stopped paying attention after the first few words. He leaned over, trying hard not to ignore the nice girl but…

        Is that a caterpillar? Izuku felt his jaw drop a bit.

        Whatever the long yellow thing inching toward them was, the girl seemed to notice that he wasn’t paying attention anymore and turned.

        “Huh?”

        “You’re late on the first day? That’s irrational.”

        Izuku squealed at the comment, when the caterpillar turned over to reveal a face. A face that subsequently drained a juice box with a ridiculously powerful pull.

        “You, you’re a teacher?” The caterpillar stood up and suddenly changed into a scruffy man dressed in a ridiculously long and thin scarf over black clothes climbing out of a sleeping bag. What kind of butterfly looks like that?

        “Get in the classroom. You’re still being irrational.”

        Izuku followed him, staring at the man’s back in confusion. For some reason, this man had no music. As if that weren’t odd enough, he seemed to force the music around him into submission, muting everyone else’s sound.

        “Are you coming, curly?” The cute girl asked, eyes innocently wide.

        “C-curly…?” Izuku mumbled, nodding and following her into the classroom.

        Kyoka was used to white noise and hearing things people didn’t want her to hear. People were always surprised by how strong her hearing actually was. It bothered her just as much as it did other people, though no one really believed that.

        What Kyoka wasn’t used to was suddenly hearing a bunch of strange noise coming from fucking everywhere . Someone had either heard she was coming and rigged speakers on everyone, or the school was under attack. But that didn’t make sense, because no one else seemed to pick up on it. The only things she knew were that the noises were easily the weirdest things she’d ever heard (save for the unmentionable things she’d discovered about her middle school teachers) and that one boy seemed to have an actual song coming from him, if you could call that weird shit a song.  

        She discovered the second thing on accident, because he arrived late. Standing in the same crowd with him made her grind her teeth and distracted her enough that she didn’t hear any of Aizawa’s speech until blonde bastard screamed ‘ DIE!’ and let rip an explosion that would have made most bomber villains jealous.

        Glad he’s on our side.

        Kyoka blinked as a few sarcastic notes washed over the field. Before she could question the noise, her classmates started getting hyped about the exam and then… the music grew ominous. She glanced over at the nervous, green haired student who’d shown up late and scowled. He looked ready to have a panic attack.

        “S-sensei!” Aizawa paused in the middle of saying something and glanced over at the problem student. Kyoka grinned at the obvious impatience in his face.

        “What, Midoriya?”

        “Um, I, I just wanted to ask, w-what if our q-quirks aren’t suited for this…?”

        Kyoka frowned at the question.

        Even Aizawa looked a bit surprised, though he didn’t bother with empathy.

        “This is a hero course, Midoriya. We won’t coddle you. Figure it out.”

        “B-but…!”

        “Shut the fuck up Deku!” Green flinched.

        Kyoka didn’t blame him. Blondie seemed a bit…

        “Hey, isn’t that a bit rude?” Someone muttered under their breath. Kyoka sighed.

        “Don’t encourage him,” Blondie growled, shoulder checking the green haired boy on his way back into the crowd, “Deku never knows when to shut up. Apparently, his quirk is the fucking same .”

        Green made a strangled noise and caved in on himself. Slowly, the music began to fade.

        So it is him. Fuck. Who doesn’t have a handle on their quirk at this point? Kyoka sighed and decided to just be thankful that the sounds were gone. Any more distractions and she’d have gone mad or tried to murder ‘Deku.’

        Keeping his quirk locked down was distracting. Walking around without the songs in the background was like stuffing his ears full of cotton. Distracting enough that he was slower than he should have been on the tests. Sure, he was above the physical average because of the training. That wasn’t enough for All Might’s successor, though.

        Aizawa was looking at him too. Not much, but carefully. Once, Izuku let up on his quirk enough that he could check, and found Aizawa’s song to be one of those songs. He sighed in frustration and shut his quirk off, resolving to listen some more later.  The girl with the purple hair was definitely annoyed with him, Bakugo was getting more and more wound up, that cute girl kept looking at him funny and then, in the background of everything was a very angry humming sound that was giving him a very bad headache.

        “Midoriya,” A nudge on the shoulder checked him out of his mental rambling. Aizawa was glaring at him again, “It’s your turn for the long jump.”

        His score was awful. Everything was awful. All Might was watching now (hiding because he was so goddamn adorable for being a fucking giant ), and Izuku wanted to scream. Watching the bubble girl get infinity on the ball through made him slap himself in the face, earning a few more odd looks.

        There was nothing he could do about the leak when he stepped into the circle. Nerves had him shaking. Controlling the quirk that people hadn’t been able to hear until that day ? Impossible. He rolled the ball through his hands, playing back the entire test in his mind.

        You haven’t even tried that yet. Izuku frowned at himself, then looked back at the crowd. But if you do they’ll hear and they’ll get mad… Aizawa sensei already looks mad, if I make it worse… Damn it, I don’t have time to think about this…!

        A strangled cry escaped his throat and Izuku flung his arm back. His throat and eyes stung, he’d popped his shoulder with that sudden motion and drawing on One for All made his whole arm hum as if he’d just eaten a miniature star, but he pulled on All Might’s power…

        Halfway through his throw the world shook with a sound like the opening of some ferocious monster’s maw, devouring every song nearby and dousing the world in dissonant silence. Slowly, he stood up and stared at the ball, at his arm, then looked back towards the crowd. They all stared back, confused as to what he was doing, but he’d turned just in time to watched Aizawa reach for his scarf.

        “The entrance exam was…” The words came out before Izuku could bite them back.

        “Eraserhead…!” Aizawa paused, and Izuku blushed fiercely, then shut his mouth as firmly as possible.

        “You were going to break your limbs again, weren’t you?” Izuku frowned, then looked up at Eraserhead and flinched, “If you’re just going to break yourself saving one person before needing to be saved yourself, how will you be a hero Midoriya? What kind of hero are you trying to become?”

        Izuku shut his eyes tight. Even with his quirk gone, the voices in his head and the songs he’d heard over the years didn’t disappear. The inside of his mind felt like a raw, gaping wound. His heart thundered in his eyes and his eyes burned. Without a quirk, without All Might’s quirk, he…

        Aizawa blinked.

        Izuku collapsed as the music returned to the world. All the music, all at once, without warning. Eraserhead’s quirk had unlocked the floodgates that Izuku had carefully controlled. Without the balance, the full force of Izuku’s song tore from his chest as a hurricane of noise and emotion. The sheer force of the quirk moved Aizawa back a few steps, clutching his ears. Behind him, Izuku’s classmates screamed and fell backward.

        A splitting pain tore through Izuku’s head. The world swayed and blurred, but it didn’t stop the full force of everyone’s songs echoing across the practice field, converging on him as a result of his quirk. When it became too much and his vision started to blur dangerously, Izuku stopped trying to force anything into submission. Instead he forced himself to stay awake, drifting in and out of consciousness as he sifted through the songs and found his own. He’d never heard it so loud or so… angry. Hidden deep in his song was the sound of One for All.

        He’d only had One for All for a month, and he’d grown used to hearing it play within his own unique song. Taking a different quirk into his own wasn’t as cut and dry as they’d imagined, he knew that. During that time, he’d guessed a few things, both about himself and about All Might. Now he was sure.

        One for All wasn’t just a quirk.

        They’re all… trapped… Izuku dug his nails into his scalp, watching as his classmates cried out. I’m hurting them…!

        With the last of his strength he took hold of his song and matched One for All peak for peak. For one terrifying moment he held his breath and drew the vise tight around his heart.

        Izuku’s song paused for a second. Two seconds. When he gasped for breath again, the sound was gone. One for All quieted, even though it hummed angrily beneath Izuku’s quirk. He spared a single glance toward the class. Eraserhead stood between Izuku and the class, staring at Izuku with the eyes of a cornered animal and his capture weapon ready.

        Izuku tried to stand; to go and ask if they were alright. The world went black before his first step hit the ground.

        “Let me get this straight. After you cancelled Midoriya’s quirk- in interest of his safety and for no other reason at all, you say- his quirk exploded. In the aftermath, every single student in our school felt the blow, and each individual was exposed to the power of a quirk that we don’t yet fully understand. Two of your students were knocked unconscious by the noise.”

        Toshinori squirmed in his seat. Aizawa looked about as cowed as Toshinori had ever seen him.

        “That’s what happened.” Aizawa muttered.

        “What did you say to the boy, Aizawa? Before the incident?”

        “I warned him that he couldn’t be a hero if he couldn’t contain his power,” Aizawa said.

Toshinori, for the life of him, couldn’t suppress his coughing fit.

Nezu picked up on it like a hunting animal.

        “Something the matter, Yagi-san?”

        “I, um… have some history with the boy. He’s got a… complex. We met a long time ago, when I resolved an incident in town…,” Toshinori gave a quick glance towards Aizawa and a nearly unnoticeable nod from Nezu confirmed that the principal understood his misdirection, “but from what I understand, Midoriya has spent several years thinking his quirk was next to useless.”

        “Midoriya’s quirk,” Nezu tapped the file on his desk. “This explanation is remarkably short. For something as strong as we’ve seen this afternoon, it should be much more extensive. If I were to guess, from what you both have told me, Midoriya was doing poorly. Between the threats from the other students and his poor performance in the tests, he was on edge. When told he couldn’t be a hero, he must have been dealing with a lot. I can imagine that having less than optimal control over his quirk and being in that spot could create a disturbance. But what we saw wasn’t a disturbance. Midoriya is powerful. We must see to it that we guide him well, in order to maintain that power.”

        Toshinori sighed. Nezu was right for the most part. But neither of them understood Midoriya. Something told him that getting to the root of the problem would be difficult at best.

        “I would like to be there when he wakes up, with both of you. We need a better explanation of what happened, from the victims’ point of view,” Nezu said.

        Toshinori blinked. Something told him Nezu wasn’t talking about Midoriya when he said ‘victim.’

        Kyoka hissed as she sat up. Light slanted through the windows, setting the room on fire and causing her to flinch when she caught a little too much light in her eyes.

        “Oh, you’re awake. Good,” Recovery Girl. Kyoka frowned and raised a hand to her ear.

        “Huh? How long was I out?”

        “About three hours or so. Between your sensitive hearing and being so close to him, I’m not surprised. Even in here that sound was terribly loud.” The way Recovery Girl said it made it almost sound like the most natural thing in the world.

        Kyoka’s eyes widened.

        “That kid, what happened to him?”

        Recovery Girl nodded to the other bed, and Kyoka turned.

        Green looked like absolute shit.

        “What happened?” Kyoka hissed. Her ears were still ringing from the explosion. Recovery Girl sighed.

        “Quirk exhaustion as well as regular exhaustion and, surprisingly, malnourishment. That boy... really, I should have expected as much. He’s a troublemaker, just like that other bonehead. But I can’t be mad either.”

        Kyoka didn’t ask any more.

        I was dissing him pretty hard out there. Carefully, just as her mother had taught her, she played back the incident. Bakugo’s shoulder checking and language. Aizawa getting fed up. Kyoka getting fed up. Everyone looking at him when he muttered. His squeaking, his frantic jittering. Signs of… things Kyoka didn’t want to think about.

        “Is he gonna be okay?”

Recovery Girl chuckled,“He’ll be fine with some rest. I’m more worried about Aizawa than the boy…”

        “Now why would you say that!”

        Kyoka jumped as a rodent appeared directly behind Recovery Girl, accompanied by a skeletal man in a suit and her homeroom teacher (who, to Recovery Girl’s credit, looked near dead). Recovery Girl sighed and tapped the rodent with her cane.

        “I heard what happened from the students. He needs the rest, so let him sleep.”

        As if on cue, the boy groaned and began waking up. If anyone looked surprised or pleased with themselves, Kyoka decided it wasn’t worth it to get involved. The two men and the creature took positions by the bedside and watched as Green started coming to. Kyoka, for her part, laid back down and turned over onto her side. Something told her that she wasn’t supposed to hear the next bit (not that she had a choice).

        “Midoriya-kun? How are you feeling?” Toshinori asked, worriedly.

        “Eh… Oh, I, um… I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

        Kyoka felt her heart freeze in her chest. No one had a chance to say anything before he laughed. The sound was about as broken as could be. “I’m sorry if I hurt anyone. Really. It, I’ve never had a problem with that before, but… it’s been getting more powerful and things have been so busy with the entrance exam… I was scared you know? I didn’t think about how loud it had actually gotten, or that other people would hear it, I swear…”

        “Midoriya, breathe,” Aizawa sighed, “We only asked how you were feeling.”

        “I… I’m fine. A little tired.”

        Recovery Girl snorted, “Tired indeed. When was the last time you slept a wink?”

        Midoriya didn’t answer that. No one bothered asking a second time.

        “Was everyone okay?” Midoriya whispered.

        “Jirou’s hearing made her particularly weak against the outburst. She’s been unconscious since the incident. Everyone else seems okay, though they were… rattled.”

        “…oh.”

        Kyoka blushed, wondering why they’d lied so quickly.

        “What exactly happened, Midoriya?” Asked Nezu.

        The bed squeaked a bit as he shifted around. Kyoka could imagine him squirming under the gaze of the teachers.

        “I… I think… my quirk has been getting stronger. And I’ve been worried about it. I was working on keeping it down, b-but the… everyone was excited and worried, and keeping my quirk shut off entirely was harder than usual. Th-then…” The sheets ruffled, but nothing happened. For a moment, no one spoke. Midoriya seemed uncomfortable, if Kyoka had to guess.

        “Then I erased your quirk,” Aizawa muttered.

        “Um, my quirk is usually always on. Other people hear it when I’m around unless I, um, make everyone be quiet. So, when it came back, I… I lost control. And I hurt people.”

        “What do you mean by your quirk always being active, Midoriya-kun?” Nezu asked.

        Midoriya flinched audibly.

        “Oh…! Um… well, people give off songs no matter what, even if I’m not around, but I just… I’m the only one who can hear them. But sometimes people affected by my quirk can hear the songs too. Lately people can hear them just being close by. I’ve been trying to keep it locked down but being here, at Yuuei… I got a little nervous.”

        “Will something like this happen in the future?” Aizawa asked.

        “N-no! I’ll get better, I promise!”

        A soft chuckle came from the skeletal man in the corner. The rodent made a small appreciative noise.

        “Then we’ll announce that a student had a bit of trouble with their quirk and that we are working on a solution. In the meantime, Midoriya, please feel free to come to us if you’d like any help with your quirk beyond what the hero course offers.” Nezu said.

        “I… yes, sir…”

        “Very good! In that case, we’ll let Recovery Girl check you out and we’ll leave you to get home. I’m sure your mother is worried by now.”

        “Oh… it’s past the end of the entrance ceremonies isn’t it…”

        “Quite a bit, young Midoriya.” The mouse chuckled. Kyoka frowned.

        After a few more minutes, the teachers shuffled out. The skeleton stayed behind and asked how Midoriya was feeling, but Midoriya didn’t want to talk. For a few minutes after the tall man left, the room was quiet. Recovery girl was making little noises as she checked Midoriya, over but...

        “I’m sorry I hurt your ears, Jirou-san.” Midoriya said quietly.

        Kyoka’s eyes shot open. Recovery Girl seemed to pause as well.

        “…How’d you know I was awake?” Kyoka sat up and turned, looking at the other bed. Midoriya wasn’t looking at her, or Recovery Girl. He stared straight at the bed.

        “I could hear you listening.” Midoriya muttered.

        Kyoka frowned. Recovery Girl went back to checking Midoriya over, and then placed some gummies in his hand and told him to get some rest. They watched him shuffle out, barely standing, and Recovery Girl groaned.

        “Those boys will be the death of me. That one in particular.”

        Kyoka looked back at the door, then reached for one of her jacks to twirl it between her fingers. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it all.

        Izuku tried but didn’t get much sleep the night after the ‘ceremony.’ Instead, he worked over old notes and tried some meditation, but his song was too unruly to deal with. Even his usual exercises for calming down didn’t even out the melody.

        Classes the next day were mundane. He’d kept his quirk locked down since arriving at the school, and writing notes wasn’t terrible without the songs humming at him from the board and page. Pro heroes moved in and out of the room, each one giving him a different amount of consideration. It took all his willpower not to be sick when he realized what was going on (Present Mic had definitely hesitated when he looked towards Izuku’s desk). When lunchtime came, he raced out of the room for the cafeteria.

        Lunchtime, over the years, had become one of Izuku’s favorite times of the day. Most people didn’t go out of their way to bother him while they ate lunch, and Izuku could listen to songs when he was finished without worrying about others. He did his best to hit the line early, get through and find a spot in the corner. When he was nearly through his meal, he felt the hum of someone approaching.

        “You’re Midoriya, right?” Izuku blinked a few times before swallowing the rice in his mouth and brushing his mouth clean. When he offered a shaky nod, the cute girl with the bubble-music offered him a weak smile. “Could I sit with you, if you don’t mind?”

        “Oh, um… sure?” Izuku nodded again. The girl sat down, looking nervous. With her sitting so close, Izuku didn’t dare let up on his quirk. She hummed quietly across the table, completely oblivious to the sound.

        “Are you alright? After yesterday, I mean.” She took a few bites of the meal, eyes widening in glee as she tucked in in earnest. Izuku rolled her question around in his head for a moment before he smiled.

        “Y-yeah. I just lost control for a bit. My quirk is kind of hard to handle these days.”

        “I was hoping to ask about that. What exactly is your quirk?” Izuku turned his eyes to his table, then offered the simple explanation that he always gave.

        “Um… It’s called Soul Song. I can hear the manifestation of a person’s health and experiences in musical form.”

        The girl stopped chewing for a moment, then swallowed.

        “That sounds complicated. So that music that everyone heard, those were your emotions?”

        Izuku frowned.

        “I… I don’t remember much? When I lost control, I think that everyone’s music all came out at once.”

        “Everyone’s music?” She cocked her head to the side again.

        Izuku sighed and dug a hand through his hair.

        “Well, yeah. Everyone has a song. My quirk just lets me hear it and play with the volume a bit.”

        “So you stopped controlling the volume and it all came out at once? That’s crazy.” The girl nodded, “This rice is really good.”

        Izuku blinked.

        “Um… yeah…”

        “So, are you using it right now, or what?”

        “Huh?” The girl took another bite of her meal.

        “Are you using your quirk? I would’ve thought the cafeteria was a hard place to be for someone with a quirk like that.”

        “Oh, I, um… I turned it off.”

        She nodded and suddenly veered off topic, asking what he’d thought about the pro heroes being teachers.

        Yuuei’s afternoon program was ‘hero studies.’ Izuku had stared at the schedule for a while, wondering what it could entail, before he gave up. In the last few minutes before class started, he shut his eyes and focused.

        Deep in his chest, his song plodded along without a care. Even with his quirk on lockdown, there was no way to fully shut off HIS song. What he focused on was deeper than that. Buried within his own song was a bit of discord.

        One for All. Izuku frowned as he listened. One for All, All Might’s quirk, was… impossible to understand. Most songs had their own rhythms, at most one or two (like that octopus guy) or at most, three (Izuku shuddered when he thought of that student). Songs were raw and confusing but listening to them for a while always gave him some sort of common ground. All Might’s quirk felt more like crazy radio static buzzing in the background of his own quirk, adding crazy spikes of power whenever it synchronized with his body.

        And this was what it felt like when he kept it turned off.

        He could remember the few times he’d used it. One for All was like injecting liquid sunlight into his veins and riding a tsunami over Tokyo. All Might’s song had a lot of ‘natural’ sounds, like sunlight and the wind in his face. Izuku wondered if that same torrent of power was there, or if it worked differently for him.

        “I AM COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!” Izuku glanced up and smiled as All Might strode into the classroom. His classmates were going wild over the costume, the smile, anything about having All Might as a teacher in general. Despite keeping a strict lock on his quirk, Izuku could feel them humming with excitement.

        Battle Training.

        Izuku felt himself moving through a haze. He’d changed into his costume slowly, barely even jogging as he headed through the tunnel.

        Battle Training… Why did it have to be…? The light blinded him as he ran out of the tunnel, and for a moment he lost himself in seeing everyone’s costumes. Uraraka (he’d finally gotten her name) looked… well, she was cute. He didn’t bother going any further for risk of completely losing his mind in thoughts. Most of the class looked uncomfortable with him but didn’t bother saying anything. Even without listening to them, he could feel his own song become quiet in response. All Might was making a speech, something about the exercise, and Izuku was half listening.

        Once you better temper your vessel, you’ll be able to use that power freely! Izuku pinched his lip, tuning in to One for All’s crazed hum. Uraraka nudged him when it was his turn to pick from the ball, which he was grateful for. All Might’s eyes gleamed as he reached into the bucket, and Izuku decided to risk loosening control for just a moment.

        All Might’s song was the same as always, down to that painful groan that came from his side and the strain on his song. Izuku knew he was getting weaker with time. The ball came up A in his hand, and Izuku shut his eyes to focus.

        Deep within All Might’s song Izuku found what he was looking for. He stepped away, holding back tears as Uraraka bounced and congratulated him on being paired with her.

        One for All… All Might only has traces of it left. Like embers… Izuku stared at the pavement, too aware of the worried hum coming from Uraraka. He thought back to his first meeting with All Might…

        “…Passed on to me like an Olympic torch…” Izuku’s eyes widened.

        All Might thought of One for All as fire. As a torch, a duty, a flame that grew with each person carrying it.

        Izuku tuned All Might’s speech out. His mind slowly grabbed the pieces he’d been looking for and put them together.

        All Might had One for All, but One for All was a part of his song. The two blended almost seamlessly. Izuku had only been able to find it because of the missing parts, the song humming in his chest, and a lot of stubbornness on his part.

        Izuku’s One for All was… chaotic. It was something beyond Soul Song, beyond Izuku. All Might’s quirk was like a great, sputtering fire in a midnight blizzard. One for All hummed through Izuku like the force of a natural disaster, spinning together eight different songs with so much static that Izuku could barely make any sense of it at all.

        Looking around, Izuku took a breath and loosened his death-grip on his classmates’ songs.

        I know I heard one that sounded like… He found it. A blonde boy with a song of cables filled with lightning was standing in the crowd, talking animatedly. Izuku listened to it for a moment before he pressed it down.

        Bakugo was staring at him again. Izuku met his eye and pulled on Bakugo’s storm, causing the blonde’s face to twist into a sneer. When his palms popped with firecrackers, Izuku heard Bakugo’s storm rumbled with thunder. For a brief moment, lightning ripped through the clouds in a controlled, white hot burst of fury.

        Lightning suited Bakugo. His explosions burned, but they were always carefully controlled. Izuku had never taken the time to look at the lightning before. The thunder usually sent him running for the doors.

        All Might thinks of One for All as a fire… A torch, something he passed on… but it sounds more like Lightning.

        One for All hummed through him like Kaminari’s song hummed, with all the contained power of Bakugo’s lightning eight times over. Calling it a natural disaster wasn’t far off, considering what the users were capable of.

        Before he had a chance to think about the quirk more, All Might called his team. Izuku met Bakugo’s eyes.

        It took all his concentration not to flinch before Bakugo’s hate.

        “Midoriya, are you okay?” Izuku glanced over at Uraraka, then back down to his hands. He’d been wringing them enough that his arms hurt.

        “I, um… I’ll be fine…”

        “You and that Bakugo, you know one another, right?” Izuku chewed his lip.

        “Y-yeah… We’ve known each other since we were kids. He’ll know about my quirk.”

        “Is he the reason you’re scared?” Izuku wasn’t sure why he was talking. Something about her eyes, he guessed. Uraraka looked so innocent and curious.

        “He… Bakugo is amazing.” He choked out. “Quirk, strength, intelligence, he’s… A really tough opponent.”

        Uraraka hummed.

        “I guess with a quirk as powerful as yours, you’d be natural rivals huh?” Izuku froze.

        “Huh?” Uraraka blinked, staring as if the answer was obvious.

        “Your quirk. It hit the entire school yesterday, and you said that was an accident, right? With a quirk like that it’s no surprise he thinks of you like a rival.” Uraraka’s eyes widened. “A fated battle between men…!”

        Izuku didn’t think he was supposed to hear that last part.

        “I’m not… Bakugo and I aren’t rivals… I can’t even hold a candle to him.” Izuku muttered. Uraraka frowned.

        “Have you ever tried?”

        “I…” Izuku stopped.

        He had tried. Back when he only had one quirk, he’d tried a lot.

        “I mean, anyone who can beat down that Zero-Pointer is pretty strong right?” Uraraka elbowed him, smiling gently.

        “INDOOR ANTI-PERSONNEL BATTLE TRAINING START!”

        Izuku focused on breathing as they snuck in through the window. The entire place was corners, but it wasn’t hard to navigate. It had only taken a few minutes to go over the layout. When they were inside, he dragged Ochako into a room and took a deep breath.

        “Uraraka-san… Kacchan is coming for me. He’ll try to fight me.” Uraraka blinked. Izuku kept talking. “Iida is on the top floor, in the middle. Probably, he’ll be ready for you… he’s doing his best for this exercise, so be prepared. For now, you should follow a little bit behind me and wait till I lead Kacchan away.”

        For a moment, she looked like she wanted to fight him. Then she toughened up and nodded quietly. Izuku swallowed. With her faith in him…

        He would do everything in his power to win. There was no other choice.

        She followed quietly, trailing a full hall behind him and peeking around the corners. When he was a fair distance away, Izuku took another breath and let his quirk reach out to the music, instead of letting up on the volume. It took more effort than he would have liked, but the result was immediate. Each song hummed to life in the building, giving him an idea of where Bakugo and Iida were and making him all too aware of the gentle pop in Uraraka’s song.

        He paused in the middle of the corridor as Bakugo approached the corner ahead of him. Part of him wanted to dash forward and try an ambush, but…

        “Deku.” Bakugo hissed. An explosion popped in his hand menacingly while the storm-song began to churn with the force of a hurricane.

        When was the last time Bakugo had been this furious? Izuku couldn’t remember.

        Why had he volunteered for this…?

        A bubble popped by his ear, and Izuku grind his teeth.

        “Ka-Kacchan…” He stammered. Bakugo sneered.

        “How’d you do it, huh? Training behind my back? Were you just pretending all along?”

        “…huh?” Izuku took a step back as Bakugo advanced.

        “Your quirk is supposed to be useless.” He growled. Slowly the storm rose and began to scream. Izuku frowned and stopped backing away. Bakugo stopped advancing. The storm hadn’t broken yet.

        “I… I was always trying to figure it out… I never gave up, Kacchan…” He managed. Behind him, Uraraka’s song hummed with anger and reassurance. Izuku felt a few of the bubbles pop and release more bubbles, as if her emotions were boiling over. Determination held her frozen at the corner behind him. Not determination to save him: determination to win, and to trust him.

        Izuku lowered his stance into something vaguely hero-like (if only he could stop shaking).

        “I… I’m not going to be afraid of you, Kacchan… I’m going to be a hero…!”

        “You spout all that crap… even if you’re shaking like a leaf, you fucking nerd…” Bakugo grinned ferally. “You piss me off!”

        Izuku felt the storm break. Bakugo’s rage poured through his song with all the force of a churning ocean, ready to beat anyone ‘beneath him’ into submission.

        Izuku saw the move coming from a mile away, grabbed Bakugo by the shoulder and flipped him. For a long moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Bakugo fought to stand, staring up at Izuku in disbelief, and Izuku stared back.

        “I’ll kill you…!” Bakugo seethed. Izuku darted to the right, straight down the hallway.

        Your turn Uraraka-san… Please, please don’t waste this chance! Izuku slid around the corner and booked it. Uraraka took her chance and ascended. He let go of her song and focused on Bakugo, who was screaming something.

        Really, Explosion was a little too well rounded. Watching Bakugo chase him by rocketing around on explosions was terrifying. Corners helped, but not nearly enough. Ducking beneath Bakugo as he rocketed around one corner earned him an enraged squawk but Bakugo still caught up. A high note caught his ear, giving him just enough time to spin and catch the kick on his guard, then pull the capture tape around Bakugo’s ankle.

        Now… Bakugo twisted, forcing Izuku to retreat and destroying the tape in one fell swoop. There’s that one… But I almost had him…

        “What the fuck… Was it fun, laughing at me this whole time you little SHIT?!” Bakugo roared. A kick swept by Izuku’s head, followed by a grab with Bakugo’s left. Every time, Izuku managed to slip out with just enough to spare. Slowly, his song was matching the crazed beat that Bakugo was setting for their battle. The songs faded to the back of his mind, twisting into a duet of music that warred rather than harmonized.

        The storm howled and beat down relentlessly. A single figure stood beneath, facing the thunder and the wind. Slowly his feet sank into the earth, and it was all he could do to fight against the wrath of the storm. He could feel the will to fight wane with each gale and each inch of clothing left open to the stinging rain, and each time it seemed he would fail, a scene played out behind his eyes. A memory of snow, of children laughing as they played along the bank of the river and of the morning sunshine through the trees. The warmth of a scarf, a coat and a hug. Sunlight in bubbles of laughter.

        When the boy beneath the storm retreated, albeit slowly, it hurt. When he thought of finally turning and running, that maybe he’d bought her enough time, a hand settled on his shoulder. No one else stood beneath the storm, but he felt it as he felt the sunshine on a bright spring day. The wind of the storm was hot and angry. For a moment, he felt the cool breeze against smiling cheeks, and he could see a clear sky stretching over his city. A laugh tore itself from his chest, despite the rage of the hurricane, and he was filled with sunshine, with candlelight on the beach and the joy of holding a child, with bubbles of spring sunshine and laughter. Each song came together at his back, holding him up against the force of the torrential downpour.

        He screamed defiance at the storm. For years, he’d watched silently as the storm marched onward, always confident that it could destroy him any time it wanted. Once, he’d thrown his life away to try and keep the storm alive.

        Izuku admired the storm. He knew every inch of the storm, all the times it was sad and the times it was confused, each time it grew in strength and each time it was under the weather. He’d run from the thunder, been burned by the lightning and soaked in the rage and confusion. Every single day, Izuku faced the storm, whether he wanted to or not.

        Overhead, the storm howled defiance. Behind him, a chorus of voices rose and encouraged him.

        Beneath the storm, Izuku stood and screamed.

        He ducked beneath the right hook and swung for ‘Kacchan’s’ face.

        Izuku’s fist slammed into Katsuki’s face like a bucket of ice water.

        For a moment, Izuku wasn’t Deku. Deku ran away and cried and took his beatings like a good little extra. Katsuki had caught a few glimpses of this new person over the years, when ‘Deku’ tried fighting back. Sometimes he’d dodge and swing wildly, but he’d gotten lucky too often. He dodged too well, swung at just the right times.

        Katsuki seethed when he thought about it. He didn’t like not knowing. Deku was supposed to be worthless, but there was something beneath that. Something hiding behind that ‘useless, quiet nerd’ persona that Deku gave off. No one else noticed how Deku watched people. They were blind to the things Deku wrote in those stupid notebooks. Everyone ignored the nerd and wrote him off, never quite noticing that something hiding deep in Deku’s brain.

        But the thought of Deku landing a hit on HIM…?

        A chime interrupted Katsuki’s daily Deku drubbing. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning like a maniac.

        Bakugo began to grin, raising the gauntlet that had chimed. Izuku could already guess what they did. Bakugo’s expression confirmed the worst of his fears. He knew he should’ve been afraid, but instead he smiled. Echoes of All Might sang over his shoulder, and One for All hummed in his chest in anticipation.

        Izuku watched as Bakugo reached for the trigger and leapt to the side, all too aware of All Might’s voice in his ear and Bakugo’s response in the hallway before fire engulfed him. The blast roared off to his right and shredded his costume, leaving him mask-less and missing a sleeve. Before the smoke cleared he reached for his earpiece.

        “Uraraka, what’s the situation…?”

        “Midoriya, what happened…!? Um, he found me, I’m sorry! But I can’t get to him.”

        “Where are you?”

        “The top floor, near the pillars by the window! Ah!” The com went dead as Iida began speaking again. Izuku blinked the smoke from his eyes and coughed. Bakugo came stalking through the aftermath of his attack, still grinning.

        If he wasn’t tuned to Bakugo’s song, he’d have been convinced that the other boy had snapped.

        “Still ignoring me, eh? What, am I not good enough to fight you, Deku?!” Bakugo frowned and spat at his earpiece. Several notes of displeasure ran through his song before he rocketed towards Izuku in a massive leap.

        Izuku took a step and threw himself through Bakugo’s smokescreen, narrowly avoiding the attack from behind. Bakugo barked in surprise and darted forward. When his left swung, Izuku flipped over his back and grabbed Bakugo by the shirt, hauling him forward and throwing him bodily across the room.

        Bakugo was shaking with rage as he stood up. Izuku stared him down, waiting.

        “What the fuck… YOURE NOTHING!” Bakugo roared. “You’ve been holding back for so long, looking down on me… I CAN’T STAND YOU AND YOUR BULLSHIT!”

        “I was never holding back…” Izuku said quietly. Bakugo trembled, slowly adjusting his weight for his attack. Their song was as quiet as the eye of a storm for a moment. “But I never stopped dreaming of the day when I finally beat you, either.”

        Bakugo yelled and closed in with an explosion.

        The storm closed in like a wild beast, intent to make up the moment of silence by condensing into a single, massive surge of wind, rain and thunder.

Still, that roar was nothing compared to what it was truly capable of and Izuku felt the chains digging into the song as if he’d ever been in any danger in the first place. No one else could feel know that above the storm was an aria unlike anything they’d ever heard before, so powerful and resolute that no song could hope to match it.

        Izuku watched in slow motion as Bakugo leapt forward, all too aware of what was coming. He ground his teeth and moved to meet the attack.

        Songs filled him, and even the storm fell away. Bakugo’s fury and despair drummed onward, desperate for the victory he’d imagined. Uraraka’s song scratched with each defeat she suffered, and Iida’s song had twisted into a farce of a villain’s song. Izuku wanted to laugh and show them what he’d heard. None of them, not even All Might, knew the song of a real villain. As if in response, Iida and Uraraka’s songs held their breath. For a moment, ‘Deku and Kacchan’ sang alone.

        One for All howled, and for a moment the world went white.

        A cough scraped the inside of his throat, wracking his body with pain. His arm was numb for the moment, but it was all he could do to stay standing. Bakugo stared at him with wide eyes. For the first time in years, Izuku heard Bakugo’s storm fail and dissipate, replaced by long, somber notes of despair.

        “I… Couldn’t use it like this…” Izuku choked out. Bakugo flinched. “But… If it’s you… Then I can’t afford… to keep… losing…”

        All Might called the match, and the world went black.

        After getting chewed out by Recovery Girl (seriously why were old ladies so scary), Izuku stumbled back to class. He opened the door and shuffled towards his desk, pausing when the red headed boy, who’s song sounded something like a team of oarsmen, strode over and caught him.

        “Hey, Midoriya! That was a hell of a fight you guys had! I couldn’t hear what you were saying but you were really going at it!” Izuku forced a smile and held up his good hand.

        What… is going on…

        “Eh, thanks…”

        “Midoriya, your arm…!” He glanced over and Uraraka and saw real concern on her face.

        “Oh, I… apparently I’m low on stamina and she couldn’t heal it entirely.” She nodded, not looking entirely convinced he was okay. Suddenly there was another one, a pretty girl with pink and horns and a song that hummed dangerously like an insect’s wings.

        “Midoriya! Nice dodging during the fight!”

        “Eh?!” Izuku backed up a touch in the face of her grin and the way she was bouncing. Slowly each of them called out a compliment on his fight, or at least a wish that he get well. For a moment, he was dumbstruck. Then he noticed what was missing from the room.

        “Um, where did…?” Uraraka noticed him looking and answered. Izuku nodded and darted towards the door.

        “Kacchan!” Bakugo froze and turned to face him, face neutral. Izuku could hear the storm brewing again, but there was no rage. Dry winds blew, rasping over the strings.

        “Eh…?” Izuku opened his mouth… and suddenly he had nothing to say. His mouth opened and closed for a moment, but he couldn’t find the words. The songs were like that. “Say whatever you came down here to say, Deku.”

        “I can’t!” Izuku frowned. “I… I can’t explain it. Not like that.”

        “For all that time you spend writing in those shitty notebooks you’re awful with words.”

        “I can show you.” Izuku’s eyes widened at his own words. He hadn’t really known what he was trying to do, tracking down Bakugo, but it wasn’t…

Bakugo scowled at him.

        “You mean with your quirk.” Izuku nodded. Bakugo’s growl deepened, then turned into a hiss. “What the fuck! What kind of weirdo uses his quirk to explain shit, Deku?”

        Izuku didn’t bother answering. He reached out with his quirk instead, carefully pulling on Bakugo’s song and projecting his own. When Bakugo stopped growling, Izuku shut his eyes and remembered the song from the fight.

        As the last notes of the song died, Bakugo turned to him and glared.

        “What the hell is that supposed to explain, huh? What am I supposed to do with your stupid music?!” Izuku watched Bakugo quietly. “What the hell am I supposed to do when I can’t beat you? How about that ice-kid, half and half?! I’m supposed to be number one, but…! Why are you always, always getting in my way?! Why doesn’t anyone else know!”

        “You look down on everyone too much, Kacchan.” Izuku sighed. “I…”

        “DON’T!” Bakugo spat. “Just… Don’t. I don’t need you to tell me what I’m fucking feeling. I don’t need your help, DEKU. I’ll figure it out, on my own, and I’ll make sure you all know I’m the best. Don’t dare think this is the end!”

        Izuku smiled. Bakugo scowled, but he didn’t storm off. He waved his hand, as if swatting a fly, and he trudged towards the gate.

        All Might was just a few minutes too late. Izuku chuckled when the giant was shrugged off.

        He’s right. This is only the beginning, isn’t it?

Chapter Text

        Ochako wasn’t sure what to make of the green haired boy.

        First he’d been ‘creepy green haired boy who stared at people for no reason and made strange noises’.

        Then he’d come running in to save her, managing to break three of four limbs and caving in a ten-story tall robot with a single punch (he still made strange noises, which didn’t really add up…) without getting a single other point in the exam.

        After the exam, trying to offer up her points as some form of thanks, she’d gone home and thought about him. Maybe a little bit more than she liked to admit. Trying to thank him had been both being thankful and not wanting to be indebted to someone like him. On the off chance that he tried using that as an excuse, and still ended up being weird, then… she had a way out. And she’d done the right thing.  She really hoped he wasn’t that kind of person.

        When she saw him standing at the door of their classroom, eyes closed in concentration, she wondered if he was weird at all. Could he just be… awkward? Nervous? Had she really written him off so quickly before? She’d barely said a word to him and found him blushing like crazy, staring at his feet the entire time, until they’d been interrupted by their homeroom teacher (who cosplayed a caterpillar? Really? Could she do that during winter?)

        Thanks to him interrupting their teacher during the demonstration, she learned his name and watched Bakugo be a complete asshole all in the same few minutes. Seriously, what was with that? Who gave someone such a nice nickname and told them to shut the fuck up in the same sentence? Quietly, she thought they were like the protagonists in an anime, or a protagonist and the rival. She didn’t like that, though, because Bakugo would be a really horrible main character.

        All her previous ideas went out the window when Midoriya exploded.

        She’d learned a few things after that, while Aizawa abandoned them on the field and Midoriya was ferried to the nurse. One, Bakugo knew something about it (Kirishima nearly got his hand blown off, so asking wasn’t a good idea). Two, everyone on campus had been affected by Midoriya’s quirk. Everyone seemed to have a different idea about what happened, but they’d all heard some crazy noise and no one knew what it was. Third, Iida was strangely worried about Midoriya (she’d literally run into him on her way out the gates) and Iida seemed kinda funny (was he…? It was none of her business).

        Later that night, when she thought about it, Midoriya’s quirk seemed special. She’d always heard something weird when he was around, and she could remember something weird when he’d smashed the Zero Pointer. His quirk must be some sort of sound quirk, but why was he so skittish? Was he just walking around with that noise on all the time? Ochako couldn’t imagine walking around with power like that running rampant.

        Midoriya in class was quiet. The entire class was quiet, actually. No one seemed sure of how to approach him. There was an aura of despair clinging to him like his own personal rain cloud, and anyone who got close to asking seemed warded off by it.

        She managed to approach him during lunch and ask about his quirk, but it seemed really strange. How could everyone have a song? What kind of song was it? Despite her curiosity, he seemed really nervous, so she stuck to regular topics. That seemed to keep him taking, at least, and he relaxed a little bit. Really, he didn’t seem so bad. Just nervous, and frightened. Ochako decided she would be his friend if it killed her, because he seemed lonely.

        Watching him before the trial was a bit unsettling. Midoriya seemed to drift from worried to focused to anxious to focused again and finally to pure panic when their pairing was announced.

        As he sat wringing his hands nervously, staring at the page but not seeming to really learn anything (seriously, was he always shaking that badly?), a thought struck her.

        Midoriya is really afraid, isn’t he?

        She’d only meant to ask about Bakugo, because their whole dynamic didn’t really make sense, but somehow they’d stumbled on down that road and ended up in the… really depressing area Ochako hadn’t wanted to end up at. Offering up support was what teammates did… right?

        Then why did Midoriya seem so lost?

        When they stepped inside, he was different. He’d spent the last minute of preparation time thinking quietly, without all the worry in his face. Suddenly he was ready, and he knew more than she’d expected. She followed him because she didn’t have anything better, and because she was sure he needed a partner. Not someone trying to fight him.

        She watched from the corner as he baited Bakugo and flipped him.

        Wait… He’s…?! She watched Midoriya flip Bakugo over his shoulder, despite shaking like a leaf. Bakugo climbed to his feet, just as confused as she felt. Midoriya took off down a hallway and Uraraka felt something urge her forward.

        Finding the rocket was easy with the top floor so empty. When she peeked around the corner and saw Iida getting into character, though, she lost control. The fight wasn’t easy on her stomach, but she held it together. Something was coming. What, she didn’t know. But she could feel it in her bones. Midoriya would…

        Ochako and Iida both paused when they heard it. Unlike the day before, or the Zero-Pointer, the song came quietly. A few beats from beneath their feet, echoing quietly and gradually becoming louder. It sounded familiar, and at the same time like nothing she’d ever heard. Too many parts played out at once. Voices screamed and wept and sang, all while some inhuman sound accompanied them in a song made of pure emotion and old wounds.

        She collapsed on the floor, feeling as if the music had consumed her and drawn her towards whatever was happening below. For a brief, terrifying moment, she cowered behind Midoriya, caught in the throes of a hurricane. Her hands reached out and touched Midoriya’s shoulders, holding him up as he sank back beneath the downpour. When he turned and looked over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of his smile. The storm broke overhead, and sunlight wreathed Midoriya and everyone standing behind him. Ochako stood beside a smaller woman with green hair, both of them dwarfed by All Might. Bakugo appeared for a moment, standing beside Midoriya and staring up at the storm with a smile only to disappear a moment later. As he faded, Ochako looked up and saw him flying in the sky over the storm, looking down at them.

        The storm convulsed, converged and descended like the wrath of the gods, and Uraraka felt her grip on Midoriya’s back loosen. All Might and the other woman disappeared, leaving her alone at Midoriya’s back. She stared as he drew back an arm and laughed in the face of what had to be the end.

        Ochako was ripped away as the fake Midoriya began to glow.

        “Now, Uraraka!”

        The music died (the world held its breath) and Ochako leapt up to grab the pillar at her side.

        When the floor exploded and flew towards the ceiling, Ochako grinned.

        “HERO TEAM WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINS!”

        Ochako and Iida watched Midoriya being taken away with a sense of… awe. It was the only word that could describe the feeling, but it didn’t quite describe how empty it felt. As if someone had left a cave in their chests, and they could only stare at the ceiling in awe of the size.

        Whatever they’d seen, it wasn’t normal. She knew that. Midoriya’s quirk had created that. He’d spun them all together as if they weren’t only school kids but characters in some epic tale.

        She glanced over at Iida before they left the building and followed his eyes to where Bakugo was being escorted by All Might.

        “That… Bakugo was the storm... right?” Iida asked, his voice full of uncertainty. Ochako frowned.

        “I’m not really sure what that was.” She glanced over at Iida again. “Where were you?”

        “I… I’m not sure. I was caught in the storm, but watching from the ground while Midoriya…” Iida clenched his fist. “I don’t think… I was supposed to be where I was. I wanted to be with Midoriya.”

        Ochako knew what he meant.

        “How… Why did we see that?” Iida’s voice grew raspy. Ochako sighed and grabbed his arm, pulling him forward.

        “Something about a fated battle between men, I think.”

        Ochako was glad Iida got the title of V.I.P., even if they knew the truth. Bakugo looked… wrecked, for lack of a better word. If her stomach hadn't been acting up, she’d have asked if the other's had felt Midoriya’s quirk even here, in the control room. The three of them filled into the crowd as the next teams moved out, and the short girl with the ear-jacks nudged her arm.

        “Hey, did you guys hear anything weird while you were out there?” Ochako blinked.

        “Yeah, but… it was more than that.” The girl’s eyebrows rose. Ochako looked at the screens, watching as the new teams filed into a new building but remembering what it felt like to be beneath the storm. “…I don’t really know how to describe it. Even though he was two floors beneath us, it felt like… I was fighting right alongside Midoriya and Bakugo. At least for a second.”

        Jirou stared at her for a moment before she nodded and turned back to the screens.

        Ochako watched the rest of the class chatting as they packed up their things. Part of her wanted to join them. The rest of her felt as if her energy had been totally drained from the trial. Iida seemed the same (he hadn’t even yelled at Tokoyami for sitting on the desks), but she didn’t want to talk to him much either.

        The door slid open quietly, and the class paused to watch as Midoriya slipped in. Before he could reach his desk, Kirishima caught him.

        “Hey, Midoriya! That was a hell of a fight you guys had! I couldn’t hear what you were saying but you were really going at it!” Midoriya smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head with the hand not in a sling. Ochako blinked and confirmed that yes, his arm is in a sling and cast?!

        “Midoriya, your arm…!”

        “Oh, I… apparently I’m low on stamina and she couldn’t heal it entirely.” Midoriya smiled (genuinely, this time). Ashido, the pink skinned girl closed in on him.

        “Midoriya! Nice dodging during the fight!” Midoriya’s smile became a little more forced as, one by one, their classmates called out compliments. There was still some space- only Kirishima had bothered to close the gap and talk to him face to face. Everyone seemed to be aware that there was something more to Midoriya than they could put their finger on.

        “Um, where did…?” Midoriya looked towards Ochako, and somehow she guessed what he meant.

        “Oh, Bakugo headed home a few minutes ago.” He nodded, frowned and rushed towards the door. When it shut behind him, the classroom grew quiet again.

        “So… Which one do you think is stronger…” Kaminari broke the silence, glancing towards the back of the room. “Midoriya or Todoroki?”

        Ochako headed towards the door as the debate sparked up and died, ignoring the answer entirely. She watched as Midoriya and Bakugo had a shouting match on the path and she hugged her arms.

        After two days, she had no idea what to think about Midoriya.

        Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him then?

Chapter Text

        ACT: The Past is a Mirror and Pictures cut deeper than they thought

        1… 2…

        Waves flowed up the shore, calmly echoing across the beach. A gentle wind blew, but there was nothing behind it.

        1… 2…

        Heavy shadows blanketed the beach, leaving empty space between the songs. Echoes changed and drifted feebly in the emptiness until they finally died out.

        1… 2…

        The song of the ocean was deeper than anyone could ever truly understand. Clouds drifted too far overhead for him to be sure, but the song of the sky was gentle as a whisper on clear mornings.

        1… 2…

        The morning was calm, and silent as nature ever could be.

        1… 2…

        Izuku’s eyes were closed and focused. Directed inward, where he could feel the pulse of his song. His song was long and sleepy from being on the beach at three am. Peaks were no different from the tiny waves that gurgled up the shore and trickled out again between the swells. Between the ocean and the sky, Izuku’s song was something like the sand. Even deeper than that was another song. Slowly, Izuku was learning how to pick apart the chaos of One for All. Trapped within Izuku’s song, One for All had no choice but to relax in the early morning stillness.

        Eight different songs, all woven together at their peak, made up the quirk Izuku had received from All Might. He could see All Might’s music pulsing within the concert, as sunshine stood out at midday in the summer. Just before All Might, a magenta song stood firm, despite the heavy burdens dragging the corners of her smile. Furious orange pulsed before that, and a light green trudged onward before that. Red, blue and white sang quietly at the forefront of the song. Across each song, Izuku could feel them weakening as he played them back. White played feebly, with traces of sickness and misery laced heavily through the song.

        Sickness, and some sort of static that Izuku couldn’t identify. Almost as if, instead of being a part of the song, it was pressed onto it like a brand in the shape of someone’s hand.

        But that was impossible.

        …Right? Izuku sighed, listening to the songs pulse inside him. He decided to ask All Might about the static. For some reason it was vaguely familiar.

        He reached out and took hold of the power, thinking of All Might’s power. A grunt escaped him as One for All filled his veins and muscles. Slowly, as he’d learned to do after the entrance exam, he took One for All into his entire body and held on for dear life.

        Izuku’s song changed. One for All filled his song with the strength and hope of all those who’d borne the quirk before him. More than that. Deep in the song he could feel the strength of everyone who’d supported those people woven in, like a gigantic tapestry of Heroes masquerading as a quirk.

        Just like yesterday… Izuku thought of his fight with Bakugo. Feeling All Might and his mother and Uraraka-san weaving their songs into his own and lending him their strength, if only in spirit. But… It wasn’t only in spirit, was it? One for All takes the voices of those who need help and combines it with brave hearts, he said. Does it actually work like that?

        Filled as he was with the strength of One for All, Izuku felt as if he was about to break. It took all his strength not to move, to focus on the song. Carefully, he opened his eyes.

        Maybe… I can try some things… with my quirk… Izuku watched the ocean roll in and out, keeping his breathing even, and took hold of the combined quirk. Slowly, he eased up on the control he’d kept over his quirk. Just as slowly, he heard the song of Izuku (All Might’s Successor) coming to life across the beach. When he loosened control entirely, he winced. One for All was a little too powerful for him to leave unchecked. The sound played across the entire beach easily, and since he was the source it rattled him down to his bones. As he turned the volume down, any idea struck him.

        Keeping control of his quirk held his song tight within his heart. If One for All was his quirk, then he could do the same. Unleashing the full power was beyond him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t control it at all.

        He filled his lungs with cool ocean air and focused.

        One for All didn’t like being taken and forced, so he tried finding ‘Izuku’s song’ within the song of ‘All Might’s Successor’. There was so much difference between the two that he was a bit surprised Recovery Girl could heal him at all. Power like that should’ve reduced him to dust, no matter how strong he was.

        Izuku grinned when he thought of himself as a conductor, stepping onto a podium and facing the orchestra. One for All watched him carefully, ready to protest the moment he tried to take control of it. His song, meanwhile, fell silent and waited. Between breaths on the beach, Izuku hesitated.

        Toshinori wasn’t entirely sure why he ended up at the beach. Sleep wasn’t easy, with his scar, but he was tired from working so much. Worry made his dreams a mess, and old memories mingled with nightmares until he was miserable enough to climb out of bed and stumble out of his apartment.

        Over the months before the entrance exam, Midoriya had turned the beach into a paradise. People frequented the place now, from what Toshinori had seen, and there was even a question of ‘who’d done it’ among the local magazines. Not that no one at all had noticed, but it wasn’t until afterward. For the time being, no one knew who the green haired youth really was.

        He’d barely parked when he was forced to cover his ears in a desperate attempt to hide form the noise. Compared to what he’d heard from Midoriya in the past, this was more like an entire orchestra of voices and emotions singing at once, all in a rush. The music dimmed and Toshinori shuffled towards the guard rail, shocked yet again by the sort of things Midoriya’s quirk made him capable of.

        Something told him that he’d just heard One for All, in its entirety. Nothing else made sense. Maybe it was arrogance but he wanted to believe that only his quirk, the legacy his master had passed on to him and he had passed to Midoriya, could be capable of such a terrifyingly awesome sound.

        Midoriya was there. Toshinori didn’t bother wondering why. If he asked his protégé, he’d have to ask himself. He didn’t want to think about why he was there. At least, for the moment, he knew why Midoriya hadn’t been sleeping much. What surprised Toshinori was that the boy was glowing. Lightning arced off of his skin in gold and orange and white and red and blue flashes. Slowly, though, the glow and the colors faded. Toshinori gaped as the minutes passed and Midoriya was left sitting there, suffused in a faint shine and arcs of lightning similar to the color in his eyes. A grin split his face and he shook his head, but when he shut his eyes…

        Toshinori stood at the foot of a mountain. Littered across its slope were countless shadows, all flickering and staring towards the sky, same as Toshinori. Clouds hid the top of the mountain, but well above any of the other figures stood one that glowed with the fierceness of the sun itself. Bolts of real lightning struck the crag on which the figure had paused, looking down across the slope and flashing a wide smile in Toshinori’s direction. All around him the shadows’ forms solidified, and the clouds overhead shrank back before his light. Someone cheered, and the cheer took hold. Everyone on the mountain cheered him as he took another step up the mountain, and they followed him quickly as they could.

         Toshinori opened his eyes and leaned on the rail, content to watch as Midoriya’s glow fluctuated. His smile was starting to hurt his cheeks. After a little while, he turned and headed back to the truck.

        He slept soundly for the rest of the night, and dreamed he was taking a nap in sunshine.

        Izuku yawned as he headed into the classroom. People noticed him and waved from their little groups, but none went to greet him. With the white-knuckle control he kept on the strength of their songs, he couldn’t read into it too much, so he ignored the negatives his brain spouted as much as he could and took his seat.

        “Midoriya-kun! Did you get bothered by those people with the cameras?!” Izuku blinked as Uraraka slipped by.

        “Huh? People with cameras… Oh, I saw a crowd so I found another way in.” Uraraka gave him a “look”. A lot of people were confused by Izuku. He didn’t talk much, and people in school tended to avoid him before, so he wasn’t really sure exactly what it was that confused people. He took a wild guess. “Um, there’s another gate on the north section of campus…”

        “Wait, Midoriya, didn’t you just get here?” Izuku glanced towards Kirishima and shrugged.

        “I got here about an hour early. The path from the north section is pretty long.”

        Now there were two of them. Izuku waited a few minutes, but when they showed no sign of stopping he couldn’t help glancing between them.

        “What?”

        “Er, nothing…” Kirishima chuckled. Uraraka sighed and took her seat. Izuku ruffled his hair and reached for his bag, pulling out his English notes and scowling down at the page as it began humming faintly.

        School was weird.

        Aizawa lectured both Izuku and Bakugo, telling the former to stop ending up in the nurse’s office and the latter to ‘grow up’. Bakugo just grunted in response. When he told them the class was picking a class representative, Izuku glanced around the room.

        He’d taken a bit of time before the quirk test to look at their songs, but that was before he knew people could still hear him. Trying to pick a president out of the crowd would be hard if people were listening, but picking through them one by one would take a long time…

        Iida had just recommended democracy when Izuku decided that choosing a president wasn’t important enough to go digging through people’s songs. The voting was quiet. People chose quickly, though he assumed they were all voting for themselves. Any one of them would be fine, if they could step up to the job. After a moment or two Izuku wrote down a name on his paper and gave it up, watching as everyone stared. Of course, his had been the last one.

        Midoriya Izuku – Jirou Kyoka : 3

        Yaoyorozu Momo – Asui Tsuyu : 2

        Everyone else : 1

        Izuku stared at the board blankly after they’d finalized the decisions. Uraraka called for him to head up to the front, and he did. Standing up in front of the class was nerve wracking, but he managed not to shake too much. Yaoyorozu looked disappointed though, and Izuku would wager money that there were a few more slipped notes in her song.

        Classes blurred by as usual, and Izuku ended up getting a headache long before they were due in the cafeteria. To his surprise Iida came to sit with them as well, looking… Actually, they both looked a little bit out of sorts. Izuku frowned and ate quietly, chiming into the forced conversation occasionally. Until he couldn’t.

        “Are you both… Um, if you’d prefer to sit somewhere else, I won’t be offended…” Izuku said slowly, looking at them both. For a moment they stared back, then looked at one another.

        “What are you talking about, Midoriya-kun?” Iida’s voice was carefully measured. Uraraka looked a bit embarrassed, as if she knew that things weren’t normal but couldn’t say why.

        “You’re both acting strange. Even if I didn’t have my quirk I could tell… I’m glad you’re here, honestly! I like both of you. But if you’d be more comfortable sitting elsewhere I won’t blame you for that.” Izuku set down his chopsticks and watched as Iida’s expression gradually changed from careful to curious and cautious.

        “Midoriya… may I ask, what is your quirk, exactly?” Iida asked quietly. After a moment Izuku frowned.

        “Um… It’s called Soul Song. It plays people’s emotions and history as a song.” Iida blinked, and waited. When Izuku didn’t continue, Iida frowned.

        “Excuse me if I’m being forward but… You destroyed the Zero Pointer and the building from the battle test with a single punch, and then there was that explosion of noise on the practice fields… If I hadn’t been in the battle trial yesterday I wouldn’t believe you at all. After what we experienced, though, I don’t doubt you. Is that really all there is to your quirk?” Iida managed. Izuku hummed.

        “Well. The explosion was just… a bad day,” Uraraka’s eyes widened a bit, and Iida grunted in surprise. Izuku shrugged, “I’d been having some trouble controlling my quirk, since it was getting stronger, and Aizawa-sensei erased what little control I had. But I figured it out a little more, and I think it’s okay now. As for the super strength… Sometimes when my adrenaline gets pumping I get a power up. I’m working on that.”

        “Just a power up…?” Uraraka muttered quietly to herself. “You destroyed a building! That’s super strength!”

        “I guess?” Izuku scratched his head. Lying about One for All didn’t sit well with him. But he couldn’t tell them he had two quirks either. “Like I said, I’m still getting that under control. But, um, what did you mean ‘after what happened’? Did my quirk do something to you guys?”

        They shared a glance. Uraraka pushed her tray away from her. Izuku’s eyes widened.

        If Uraraka was pausing her meal, it was serious.

        “Yesterday, when you fought Bakugo.” Iida took a breath. “We were fighting above you, but in the middle of it we heard a… noise.”

        “I’ve heard your quirk before but not really clearly, and not that loud either…” Uraraka stared up at him, eyes wide. Her eyes were too innocent, Izuku thought. Permanent puppy dog eyes. Eyes like that were too powerful. “But yesterday it was really loud.”

        “Yes. Once we heard it we were confused and then… I’m not entirely sure how to describe what I saw.”

        “It was a hallucination. Like… we were still looking at the floor, but at the same time there was this big storm and you were there looking up at it…”

        “Wait you saw that?” Izuku paled. They nodded. “I… I’m so sorry, both of you…! I didn’t think anyone else would get caught up in it, Bakugo didn’t… Damn it, that’s not…”

        “Bakugo was there, too.” Uraraka said. Her voice sounded wistful, like she… was remembering something she didn’t want to forget. “It was so real. But it didn’t make any sense either.”

        “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Izuku groaned, “I’m still working on controlling the output but yesterday I guess I lost control again.”

        “It’s fine, Midoriya. The outcome would’ve been the same regardless, I’m sure.” Iida said. “But after experiencing a vision like that, and hearing sounds that I can’t describe… I’m curious about your quirk.”

        “Um…” Izuku dug through his hair nervously. “I guess… What you heard were emotions. Emotions played out like musical notes. My quirk, it lets me hear everyone’s song. Everyone has a song, and they’re all… they don’t make sense, unless you use metaphors.”

        “What’s my song like?” Uraraka blinked innocently, and Izuku grew red in the face.

        “I… I can show you… if you’d like?” After a moment, she nodded. “This may get a bit loud, Iida, if you’re right next to her.”

        “If Uraraka doesn’t mind I’d like to try listening.” Uraraka smiled and nudged him. Izuku smiled weakly.

        “Okay… Just, um… Whatever you hear, it may not make sense at first. So…” Izuku trailed off, then took a breath and reached out. Keeping the locks on his quirk, Izuku chewed his lip and tentatively reached out to Uraraka with his quirk. She wanted her song, not their song (Izuku was sure mixing his song with a girl’s would have set him on fire).

        Control was unsure at first. His song and Iida’s both grew louder, and he had to force them down. Pulling only Uraraka’s music made him sweat a bit from the exertion, but eventually, he let it play softly across their table.

        One bubble popped, then another. Gradually the music played out, gentle as a spring morning with all the smoke and sunlight of a frozen streambank. Her darkness was there, rumbling quietly beneath the rest of her music, but it was quiet in comparison to the airiness of the tune. A deep resonant string played harmony with pearly keystrokes and windchimes.

        Izuku sighed as the music levelled out, just loud enough for the three of them to hear. Uraraka’s eyes widened until she was staring at him, staring through him, and Iida was listening with an unreadable expression. After a few minutes Izuku let the song fade, pressing the volume back down to a quiet hum. For several minutes afterward, Uraraka didn’t say anything. Iida stared at Izuku as if he’d just shown Iida a mythical animal instead of a quirk.

        “…That…” Izuku missed the rest of what Iida said when he noticed the tears falling over Uraraka’s cheeks.

        “U-Uraraka?! I’m sorry, I messed up, didn’t I? Was it too loud, or maybe too much…?!” He offered her a handkerchief from his jacket, but she wiped her eyes and waved him off.

        “I, I’m fine Midoriya…” A shudder wracked her body as she steadied herself. Izuku wrung his hands until she looked up and flashed him one of the brightest smiles he’d ever seen. “That was amazing, Midoriya-kun…! Thank you… so much.”

        Izuku blushed bright red at that, then turned back to Iida.

        “Uh, I-Iida-san, what…”

        A sound screeched through the building suddenly, causing every student around the cafeteria to stand up and half panic.

        Immediately, Izuku felt what was coming. A stampede of buzzing songs erupted from the students in the cafeteria, and he winced as it continued to grow louder. One of the upperclassmen told them about the alarm, and soon the three of them were packed into the crowd being dragged through the halls. Being trapped in the confined space and losing hold of his classmates frayed Izuku’s nerves, but he waited. Something was happening, that much he was aware of.

        The sensation of being trapped in the crowd was like being stuck inside a hornet's’ nest. Izuku cursed beneath his breath as he was shoved against the wall, watching as Iida and Uraraka were separated and Iida was forced face-first against the glass. Epiphany rang out over the crowd as Iida looked out the window, and Izuku took the chance. Iida’s song was simple, which he was grateful for. Amplifying his song wasn’t hard now that he knew what to look for, though everyone else was in a panic. Desperately, Izuku let his quirk spread out as much as he could and focused on the panic blanketing the crowd. For half a second, his entire body was wracked with physical pain, as if he were trying to lift a plate of metal far beyond his strength from the very middle of it (he got the feeling he was standing on top of the plate as well, though it didn’t make much sense). When he felt it budge he pressed even harder.

        Slowly, people began to calm down. Alarm was still there, and worry, but panic was dying out. Then Iida went flying over the crowd, and Izuku groaned.

        Apparently he hadn’t needed to do anything at all.

        Uraraka smiled in Izuku’s direction, and he returned it gratefully. On the way back to the classroom, Izuku hummed and smiled a bit more. Iida was much more comfortable in a pinch and Izuku wasn’t quite ready for a spotlight…

        Turning over his spot as Class Rep was easier than he’d expected after all, though Yaoyorozu missed too many notes for his liking as he spoke to the class. He really needed to do something about that soon.

        “PLEASE PARTNER UP IN ORDER SO WE MAY ENTER THE BUS IN PAIRS!”

        Izuku ground his teeth against the incoming yawn and wondered if Iida was taking to his new role a little too well. Of course the bus wasn’t the right kind and Iida ended up scolding himself the moment they made it on board. Chatter filled the bus as they headed across Yuuei campus. He drifted into a light doze until the person next to him decided to take an interest in him. The sound of a song buzzing curiously in his direction woke him, and he turned to meet a pair of black eyes.

        “Kero.”

        “A-Asui-san…” Izuku glanced around noticed a few people looking his way, now that he was awake. They all buzzed with the same curiosity, though not as fiercely as Asui.

        “Midoriya. I always say what’s on my mind.” Izuku attempted a smile, “Your quirk doesn’t make sense.”

        As if that was news, Izuku winced. He glanced over to Uraraka, who was laughing and chatting with some of the others. Iida was scolding people. So far only six people had explicitly heard his quirk. All Might was the only who knew everything about it. How was he supposed to explain it? The longer he waited though, the more she stared and croaked at him.

        “Um… No, you’re right it really doesn’t make sense…”

        “Hey, if he’s not comfortable talking about it, don’t push him Asui! Totally not cool.” Kirishima piped up from across the bus. Izuku ducked his head in relief, “Even if it doesn’t make sense it’s super powerful, right? Better than something like this…”

        Izuku frowned at the way Kirishima’s song cracked with the strains of self-doubt. Hardening was simple, sure, but it was more powerful than Kirishima believed.

        “K-Kirishima,” Kirishima refocused on Izuku, who forced a smile, “Being flashy isn’t everything. Your quirk is really great, as long as you have the drive to back it up.”

        The cracking in Kirishima’s song faded. A somber note rang out from everyone on the bus. Somehow, Izuku had spoken just when everyone quieted down, and everyone had heard him. He blushed and ducked his head again.

        “Powerful quirk and good personality,” Kaminari whistled, “Man, I think you just jumped ahead of Todoroki and Bakugo in terms of hero-ness.”

        Izuku flushed a bit. Bakugo simmered and thundered in his seat near the back of the us.

        “Not all of us have a fucking empathy quirk, damn extras!”

        “He really does have a terrible personality.” Tsuyu croaked. Bakugo erupted. Uraraka laughed and cheered. Yaoyorozu’s song skipped a bit, and Izuku’s eyes lingered on the vice-rep for a moment. Just long enough for her to notice, and for him to sheepishly glance at the floor.

        With all the control he’d gained of his quirk, he was forgetting just how much he needed to control himself as well.

        As they got off the bus and peered up at USJ, a peal of fanfare interrupted the class. It caught Izuku by so much surprise that it projected and caused him to jump, making just about everyone stare at him in confusion as he turned bright red in embarrassment. No one seemed willing to let it go, though after a few minutes of pointedly staring at him they started heading towards the facility. When they stepped through the doors a peal of awe rang out from his classmates. He felt the same. USJ had a simulated lake, what looked like a waterslide, a mountain, a forest and a pair of domed buildings (one seemed to hold fire and one sang like a torrent of rain) branching off from a single central plaza.

        Izuku blinked in surprise as a new song came up the steps and approached the class. The new song sounded as if All Might’s song was played in the void between a star and a black hole: the endlessly hungry maw of the unknown sapped at the edges, but starlight rang out ever-alien with a trace of solar wind blowing through it like laughter. Space hero: Thirteen stepped up to exchange a few words with Aizawa in regards to All Might (judging from the three fingers, All Might was out of time).

        Once the worry for his mentor passed (really, Izuku wasn’t surprised that All Might used up all his hero time) he noticed the adoration pouring off of Uraraka and he couldn’t help but join in. Thirteen rambled a bit, but their message was inspiring and unique. Carrying All Might’s power made Izuku hyper aware of the implications that a pro hero faced. Villains were the ones who used their power carelessly. Pros were the ones who trained their control to an extreme and were rewarded for their effort.

        Izuku paled when the sound in the room died. Thirteen was still talking, or finishing up. For a moment, Izuku thought Aizawa had turned on his quirk, but even the drone of Aizawa’s Erasure was absent. He ran to the head of the steps and stared down at the room, searching. He’d felt this same dread tune before. Slowly, a worn violin bow began sawing at his nerves, filling the entirety of USJ with its ominous tone. A single beat echoed throughout the room, beginning some of the most foreboding music Izuku had ever heard from his quirk.

        “Midoriya, don’t get excited…” Izuku ignored Aizawa. His eyes widened painfully as songs began to project faintly from the center of the dome.

        “We need to get out!” The class panicked at Izuku’s outburst. Bakugo at least seemed to pick up on his panic, but time had already run out. In the plaza, a dark purple hole opened in the air and swirled open, letting several people in simple, rugged quirk gear step through. Aizawa grabbed Izuku and shoved him backwards by his gym uniform.

        “Stay together.” Aizawa called out. Izuku ground his teeth. “Thirteen, protect the students.

        “Those are villains.” The class cowered at the idea of an attack. Anyone who had wondered what was going on shut up the moment Aizawa spoke out. Izuku watched in disbelief as Aizawa pulled on his goggles, completing the persona of Eraserhead. He might have spoken out if Aizawa’s song didn’t sound… eager. Resigned, as always, but ready to face the crowd on the ground. Eraserhead leapt over the steps reaping the villains below much more easily than anyone save for thirteen seemed to have believe possible.

        People began talking about sensors. Todoroki shut them all down. Izuku frowned. Everyone was on the edge of panic. No one was developing a plan. A bunch of students were just standing around waiting to be attacked. He was about to say something when music erupted from the air behind him.

“ Greetings… We are the League of Villains. We’ve come before you scions of heroism today so that we might have the symbol of peace draw his last breath. Please, forgive our audacity. ” Izuku’s eyes settled on the metal brace beneath the eyes. The villain’s quirk was definitely a warp quirk: his actions, and the tendency of his song to drop out suddenly and reappear somewhere close by were both telling. For a villain, though he was well put together. He sounded like smooth jazz in an empty bar, confident that someone would come, staring at a telephone waiting for someone to call. A follower, someone who was enacting a plan and confident in his ability to carry it out.

The only thing that jumped out at Izuku was confidence, and a strange static clinging to the man like an echo of someone else. An echo that felt familiar, if vague.

        “You seem aware of our plans… Pray tell, were you informed of our coming? And where is All Might? Was he not supposed to be here? Was the schedule changed?” Izuku scowled. Bakugo’s storm was firing lightning bolts like crazy. Enough fear dripped from the class that Izuku felt as though he was standing in a swamp of terror. “Well. No matter. My role…”

        “Kacchan! The brace!”

        “Fuck off Deku!” Kirishima was right there beside Bakugo as the blonde leapt to attack. The warp-user flinched away in surprise as they attacked. Izuku cursed.

        “Young you may be, but you are the golden eggs of Yuuei, after all... The best of the best indeed. But.”

        One second before his action, the villain’s song peaked. Izuku leapt backward and rolled, narrowly avoiding being caught in the mist. When the mist cleared, Ashido, Sero, Sato, Uraraka, Iida and Shoji stood between the villain and Thirteen. Everyone else had disappeared.

        “What happened? Where is everyone!” Iida shouted. Shoji spread his arms and wriggled before confirming that everyone was still in the facility. Thirteen took to convincing Iida to run.

        Izuku watched from the background, concentrating. He could feel the songs of his classmates in front of him, and the facility was buzzing with songs. Picking through each one would take time if he kept the volume down.

        Your quirk doesn’t make sense. Izuku’s eyes widened as an idea came to him. He remembered trying to take hold of the songs in the cafeteria. In the back of his mind he remembered the songs of his classmates. USJ was massive, and they were scattered. Reaching them would be impossible.

        No. Izuku ground his teeth and reached.

        For ten years, he’d been careful. People didn’t understand him. Most thought he was just lying. He’d tiptoed about, learning about his quirk as much as he could without pushing anyone.

        It was time to test his limits.

        Thirteen was telling Iida to run back to the school. That was a good plan. But if Thirteen attacked the portal villain with a physical disintegration…

        “Everyone!” Izuku placed himself between his classmates and the villain. “I have a plan!”

        Releasing the locks on his quirk wasn’t easy. He’d screwed himself shut as tightly as possible in case of annoying his classmates or his teachers. At first things came out stuttering.

        “Ashido-san, Sato-san, we need to keep him busy. If Ashido-san throws acid and Sato-san attacks form the back, you should be able to keep him distracted. Uraraka-san, Sero-san, try getting a hold on him and we’ll go for the capture. Iida-san do as Thirteen-sensei says! Shoji-san, please cover his retreat.”

        “Midoriya-kun, you shouldn’t…”

        “Sensei, you’re not a good match against him.” Izuku didn’t turn around. He locked eyes with the villain and took a deep breath. “We need to keep him distracted.”

        “Even in a situation like this, who in their right mind reveals their plan to the enemy?” As the villain flared up in anticipation of the fight, Izuku exhaled the breath he was holding and reached.

        Every song in the USJ stood out like bubbles surrounding their person. Izuku felt through the mess for the familiar ones and touched them, even those two he didn’t want to grab hold of. Dizziness swept over him as he took hold of their songs, using even the most tenuous connection to grip them. Twenty-two songs flowed through him, in addition to his nine. He ground his teeth and tuned them, matching the rhythms of each one to his own and letting his song flow into them. Just as Uraraka’s song had flowed into him during the battle trial, and All Might’s song flowed through One for All.

        “We’re going to defeat you.” He told the villain.

        “Oh? How?” The villain chuckled. Izuku grinned.

        Then Izuku took hold of One for All.

        Everyone in USJ, villain or hero, felt the result. Izuku had unleashed a storm in the facility, and everyone linked to him may as well have been struck by lightning. They played their own song loud enough for others to hear, aware of the fact that they were a part of something bigger. Wherever there was more than one, the songs blended together to create a concert of sound. Portal villain hesitated and fell back in the face of the noise, uncertain of what was happening. Sweat beaded on Izuku’s forehead as he gripped everyone’s song.

        “PLUS… ULTRA…!” He shouted, even though he wasn’t sure if they could hear it through his song. Izuku roared the motto as loud as he could, trying to reach all of them and maybe push that fake bravado into his song. Around him, his classmates rushed forward echoing the cry. When he felt the songs within his grasp begin to pulse with confidence, keeping time with the rest of them, he loosened his grip just enough to lose hold of the more difficult ones. Even without his hold they remained on the same wavelength.

        His body strained with the power of his quirk, and Izuku held on for dear life.

        Shota moved between enemies with mechanical precision. Against a crowd of lowlifes, he barely had to think. Half of the time he was focusing on where the leader of the villains stood (right beside the monster that made Shota’s spine crawl) more than taking down his prey.

        It started as a tickle. Something pulled at his thoughts as if he’d walked through a doorway. A buzz started up, just beyond his hearing, and Shota ignored it.

        When he heard the music, he paused. Everyone in the plaza did. The leader was frozen mid lunge, as if he had just been about to move. Villains within five meters backed away, and Shota was left wide eyed as they stopped to listen.  Gradually, he became aware. Aware of the songs coming from the rest of the facility, of the multiple songs fusing together and beating through his chest, of the energy that was flowing through the songs. His heart beat faster with each moment it played, and he felt manic. Some part of him registered that this was Midoriya’s doing. Part of him registered that his students were there in the mess of songs beating through him, and they were okay.

        He stepped out, surrendering himself to the beat. Dancing had never been his strong suit, but fighting? That he could do. No one was sure what the music was, or how to comprehend it. Shota bared his teeth in a smile, remembering when he’d first seen Midoriya’s quirk explode like this. Fear couldn’t describe how he’d felt in the face of this music. Now he was dancing to his song, and they were trapped on the floor with him. Eraserhead lunged and flipped through the crowd like an angel of death chaining prisoners to hell.

        Izuku grinned when Shoji caught the portal in his arms and Iida finally made it to the doors. Everyone had managed to keep the villain on his toes during the fight. A few strands of tape hung from the brace around his neck as he backed up towards the stairs, facing all of them down as Iida tore out of the USJ.

        “Damn it all… I seem to have failed… That’s game over...” The villain slipped into the floor with his words, leaving them all to sigh in relief and take a breath. Izuku groaned as he held on to the connection. Holding One for All in his body was taxing. One move… and he’d break himself.

        “Midoriya…?” Ashido frowned. They were noticing, now, and turning to face him. “That’s… Are you alright?”

        Uraraka was the only one who ran to him. Linked as they were, he could feel the uncertainty in their songs.

        “I can’t… move…” He glanced at Uraraka and managed a weak smile. “I’m keeping… everyone connected. But my quirk… If I let up, they may trip up…”

        “Midoriya. We’ve won. You can release your quirk.” Izuku looked up at Thirteen.

        “But… Everyone…”

        “They’ll be fine. Take care of yourself too.” Izuku sighed and released the connection. He nearly collapsed from exhaustion when the music calmed down. Something told him they wouldn’t fall out of sync easily, but it nagged at him nonetheless. If anyone was hurt because he couldn’t control his quirk better…

        “You all need to evacuate!” Thirteen was shouting over them, now.

        “Sensei, wait.” Thirteen looked down at him. “There’s something down there… A monster with multiple quirks. Aizawa-sensei is fighting the crowd but… if that thing moves, he doesn’t stand a chance. You need… We need to help him!”

        “I’ll go, Midoriya, but you all need to get out of here. We’re here to protect you, after all.”

        “I…”

        “Midoriya.” Thirteen cut him off. He bit his lip and nodded. Thirteen turned towards the stairs and hurried down the steps, leaving them all feeling a bit… hollow. In the wake of Izuku’s connection, they felt alone. Useless, even. Each song in the entrance rang with that same sorry peal.

        Izuku reached out again, looking for the songs. Beneath them, in the plaza, Eraserhead was still fighting. He held the advantage for a moment. Their boss hadn’t moved, and Izuku was glad. As long as that monster beside him didn’t move, they had a chance.

        “Midoriya, we should get out…” Uraraka muttered.

        “I… I want to stay here. Just in case.” No one objected to that. Izuku bit his lip, then took a gamble and reached out to his left, where a silent song beat quietly in its cage. He reached out and touched it, then fed his worry into it and linked him to Eraserhead.

        If it’s him… Maybe we can stop them.

        Shota felt the music taper off as he tossed a pair of goons to the edge of the plaza. They were barely worth being called henchmen, let alone villains. His music didn’t disappear entirely. He could feel it humming through him, ready to devour the next quirk he looked at and whoever stood before him along with it. It filled him with a confidence that he never thought he needed.

        Vaguely, he was aware of Thirteen running down the steps and the portal villain rising from the stone beside the leader.

        “Shigaraki Tomura.”

        “Kurogiri…” The leader rasped. Shota filed their names away for later. “What happened…? Thirteen is here…”

        “I was unable to fight off the students. One of them escaped.”

        “Ah… Huh… Hnnnnnnnnnngh…” Shigaraki growled. Shota scowled in disgust as the leader began scratching his neck like an animal. “You… If you weren’t a warp gate I’d kill you… They’re all coming… We don’t stand a chance… We need to leave.”      

        Shota’s stomach churned when Mineta gave a small cheer. They’d been so close to the stairs… He caught sight of Thirteen pushing them up the steps before slowly entering the plaza. Good.

        “But you know… Just leaving like that doesn’t sit right with me… We came to send a message, at least.”

        Never in his life had Shota ever felt the air physically go stale the way it did at that moment. Midoriya’s quirk died, along with Thirteen and Shota’s songs. Nothing moved for a breath, and Shota felt fear ripple down his spine in anticipation of the next move.

        “Nomu.” The beaked monster perked up.

        The tugging sensation returned, and Midoriya’s quirk buzzed to life in the back of his mind. Midoriya was… Exhausted. Despite the energy rippling through the song, the impact was low. Still he felt determination cover the fear tainting the air. A moment later his song flared to life, along with Thirteen’s and a quiet, steady beat to their left. Behind the villains, a storm thundered to life, bolstered by something tossed about in the sea beneath it. None of it made any sense and yet each song beat in time with Shota’s pulse.

        The villains hadn’t heard it yet. Shota grinned despite himself.

        Shigaraki hadn’t finished pointing his finger yet when the ice and the storm tore into the plaza. ‘Nomu’ was frozen solid, motionless as ever, while Kurogiri was caught beneath Bakugo’s blasts and Kirishima’s sharpened hands. Eraserhead moved in, eyes locked on the leader. A quick series of blows knocked Shigaraki to the side and bullied him away from Nomu, just enough for Thirteen to make his move.

        “Nomu…!” Shigaraki faltered when he saw the beast begin to disintegrate, and was felled by Eraser head’s knee slamming into his diaphragm and cutting him off.

        The move was over in a minute, and the villains were incapacitated. Quietly, Midoriya’s quirk faded from the facility and Shota was left to re-evaluate his student.

        When the door blew off the hinges and All Might came storming in, Shota smirked up at him.

        Izuku gasped for breath as he let go for the second time. He could feel All Might getting close, and the fight below was all but finished. Uraraka grabbed his shoulder in panic.

        “Midoriya!”

        “I’m… fine…” His voice broke and came out raspy. Suddenly he needed water, desperately.

        “You’re shaking!” Uraraka yelped.

        “Plus… Ultra…” He hissed as he forced himself to stand and stumble towards the steps. Then the door blew off its hinges, and a lot happened at once.

        It didn’t take long for him to realize what happened. All Might entered like a titan staring down at the villains… who’d all been defeated. The portal villain took it as his cue and opened a pair of portals, sinking both himself and the handy-man (who’d been tied up in Erase rhead’s capture weapon, but left on the ground) into the floor. When the portals closed, Bakugo threw a fit and Eraserhead stared at the floor as if it had betrayed him.

        Izuku was glad they were gone. Handy-man’s song made him want to vomit almost as much as that monster’s song had.

        With All Might so close, he finally felt safe. Safe enough to let himself collapse, and the darkness close in on his vision.

        The bus ride back to campus was quiet. Once they’d talked to the police the gravity of it all had set in. Somehow, they’d faced villains and avoided being injured. But even more than that…

        “Bakugo,” Everyone turned when Yaoyorozu spoke up. Bakugo turned his head and scowled at her. “What happened back there. That was Midoriya’s quirk, right?”

        “Who the fuck cares?” Bakugo muttered. Kyoka sighed.

        “Just tell her, asshole.” She barked. Bakugo glared at her, and she glared back.

        “Yeah, it was that bastard’s quirk. What of it?” Bakugo spat.

        “It… was so different from the last time.” Yaoyorozu trailed off, twirling a bit of her ponytail in her lap. Kyoka stared at her hands.

        None of them knew the half of it.

        When the music had started, Kyoka had nearly lost her mind. All over the facility, music had erupted from the students. At first it had been painful and confusing. She almost lost her grip on the short sword Yaoyorozu had made for her.

        Suddenly she wasn’t standing on the mountain anymore. She was riding the music like a wave, caught in the rush. Fear hummed through her bones and made her jittery. Excitement pulled at the edges of her smile, forcing her to grin. Anxiety and insecurity were drowned out by confidence and absolute certainty, all coming from different people. Kyoka had been aware that the song in the mountain was smaller, consistent of only her, Yaoyorozu and Kaminari. It was a nice song, but…

        She’d heard something else, too. From the entrance way, she could feel the source of it all humming like a massive speaker turned on max volume. Faintly, she recognized the pieces from across USJ coming together in a massive symphony, as if Midoriya was weaving the sun, stars, and the entire planet into a song and playing the voice of the people for the vocals.

        All the sounds in the song made her feel. Somehow, in the span of a moment, she felt her classmates pouring through her like a current.

        It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Like staring into an abyss of things Kyoka wasn’t even sure she wanted to understand.

        “That… You all felt it too, right? When he yelled.” Ashido asked hesitantly. Everyone nodded or shrugged.

        “I didn’t hear him yell, but I could feel it.” Ojiro twisted his hands. “What was that?”

        “That fucker’s quirk.” Bakugo hissed, “It’s why Deku is fucked in the head.”

        “Hey!” Uraraka shot to her feet. “Don’t you dare say that! If he hadn’t done what he did, who knows what would have happened?!”

        “Nothing, Round Face!” Bakugo barked. “It’s a useless quirk, just like Deku.”

        “Didn’t stop him from kicking your ass.” Kaminari muttered. Bakugo growled but didn’t fight back. Kyoka smirked.

        “Whatever that was,” Kirishima stared at the ceiling, “I think we owe Midoriya a thank you. What he did was pretty manly.”

        She frowned. Midoriya had been carried out on a stretcher and took an ambulance back to the nurse’s office. Thirteen had said something about extreme exhaustion.

        Were the villains scary in the first place? Or… Had Midoriya actually saved them?

        Kyoka didn’t want to think about what would have happened if they’d been alone. She agreed with Uraraka, for some reason. Midoriya had done something important.

       Izuku groaned as he woke up. The world was fuzzy and quiet, which was good and bad. When he tried sitting up, a hand pushed him back to the bed.

        “I’m glad you’re awake, young Midoriya.” Izuku gave All Might a faint smile.

        “They’re all okay, right?” The words strained his throat, but he’d spoken before he even realized it. All Might grinned.

        “Yes. Everyone made it out safely.”

        “G-good.” Izuku relaxed a bit. Recovery Girl shuffled into view at the end of the bed.

        “Somehow, you managed not injure yourself this time. But exhausting your quirk is almost as bad, you know.” The old woman told him. Izuku glanced at All Might.

        “I… I’m not sorry…” Izuku managed. Recovery Girl sighed.

        “Jeez… you boys are going to be the death of me.” All Might cleared his throat when she was finished, and Izuku spun to face him.

        “Young Midoriya, what happened? Everyone mentioned you used your quirk, but they seemed confused about what you did. I’d like to be able to tell Aizawa.” All Might looked… cautious. As if he were worried Izuku would run away, or be offended. Izuku wasn’t sure what to make of that.

        “Oh… I, um.” Izuku’s head ached a bit, but he pushed it out of the way. “I just played everyone’s songs.”

        “Use real words, boy. Explain it so that we can understand.” Recovery Girl called. All Might chuckled.

        “I’ve experienced something like that before, my boy. But…” All Might spread his hands as if he were grasping at straws. Izuku took the hint and nodded.

        “I… When they all got scattered, I was at the entrance. My quirk lets me hear songs, but sometimes I just… sense them on the edge of things, you know? Like peripheral vision. I never really tried it before, so I kinda… reached out and grabbed onto everyone. Then I let the song splay out loud, and… I tuned them so that we were all on the same… um, wavelength? Beat? I don’t know… it’s hard to describe…”

        “You tuned them?” All Might frowned. Izuku sighed.

        “I, um, I can play with the songs, you know? Not interfere or change them, I can only do that to my own song. But people’s hearts beat in time with their song. And I think, maybe, that it helps keep rhythm with how you move. So when I tuned the songs and made sure everyone was on the same wavelength, I kinda… forced myself to be confident. And that rippled through the chain. Plus,” Izuku licked his lips and took a breath, “Plus when everyone was connected, I think… I think it helped calm everyone down. Plus ultra… right?”

        All Might laughed when he managed a weak smile.

        “My boy… I’m shocked each and every day by how much you grow. I’m proud of you, you know that?” All Might tapped the end of the bed, careful not to touch Recovery Girl’s patient. Izuku felt tears well up in his eyes.

        “I…”

        “Don’t start. You’re dehydrated as it is.” Recovery Girl smiled at him, despite snapping. “I guess I can’t be mad if I’m hearing you right. Although, you should try not to push yourself so much.”

        Izuku nodded, sealing his lips tight against the faint cries that tried to escape him.

        “Rest up, young Midoriya. Your mother will be here to pick you up soon.” All Might sat with him for a few minutes before he slipped into a doze, and before he knew it, he was heading home.

        Izuku was used to being trapped in darkness. Listening to songs for so long had taught him how to really listen to something, how to block out everything else until the sound rang all around the void and through your person. He knew how to open himself to the sounds and how even regular music could be felt.

        This wasn’t that type of darkness.

        Voice whispered things and laughed at him. When he asked, it yelled at him and turned into hushed whispers. The darkness pulled at his gym uniform, dragging him deeper and yanking on any part that it could grip. He moved through the darkness as if it were quicksand, all the while dreading the sounds waiting for him at the bottom. Slowly the voices faded, and the sounds grew louder.

        Behind him, he could hear the song of the monster. He knew it was dead, but he’d touched it when he was looking for Aizawa. It didn’t take much to guess why that song was a part of his nightmare: it was mostly screams of agony, the feeling of being stitched together and torn apart from the inside out. Pain was all that was left of the human’s song. As if that weren’t enough, someone had take those screams and spun them into a net, caging four quirks inside it like angry hornets. Izuku could hear them and he could guess what they were.

        But it’s dead. Thirteen killed it, and no one was hurt! Izuku ground his teeth and ignored that song. A few moments later he realized just how much of a mistake shutting out the first song was.

        The second song was chaotic and listless. Game noises, classic and new, blared through it and twisted the emotions inside into a broken electronic tune. A voice like a child’s wailed and screamed in rage at the front. Izuku could hear the same child crying beneath the layered vocals. Rusted metal and fresh rot filled his nose as he sank into the shadows, drawing closer and closer to the noise. Familiar static traced the edges of the song like a cobweb. Deep inside Izuku’s chest, he felt something flutter. He giggled, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Even though he wanted to be sick, he giggled like a drunk.

        Madness. His eyes widened. He’d wanted to ignore the bloodlust clinging to the song like a broken scab. He’d never wanted to feel like a child drowning in a swamp of blood. The song continued like nails on a chalkboard, digging into his ears while it made him laugh out loud.

        Izuku had never wanted to feel tip All Might to pieces.

        The voice pulled at the edges of the song, plucking notes that shouldn’t have been there and throwing the whole thing even further off tune.

        Trapped in the sticky, tar-black void, Izuku screamed.

        “We’ve got nothing on a Shigaraki Tomura or a man named Kurogiri possessing a warp quirk in any registry,” Tsukauchi said, “We’ve interrogated everyone caught by Eraserhead during the event, and we’ve even got sketches of both of them. But so far, we’ve got no leads on either. The Nomu that was caught and injured with Thirteen’s Black Hole has regenerated, but won’t respond to any sort of communications… It’s entirely comatose, besides breathing, eating and drinking.”

        “I see. Thank you for your report, detective. Was there anything else that stuck out? Nezu quipped. Tsukauchi frowned.

        “Only one. They were recruited by what they call ‘The League of Villains’ to kill the Symbol of Peace. Each of the villains we picked up said the same thing. Apparently Nomu was the weapon that would do the trick, but we’ve seen how that turned out.” Tsukauchi coughed into his hand. “Speaking of which… Everyone at the scene mentioned a boy, someone named Midoriya? He was sent to Recovery Girl after the attack, so we never got to talk to him. Is he alright?”

        Shota sighed when the room glanced his direction. Once upon a time, he’d thought Midoriya would be a problem because of how quiet and undisciplined he was. He had a sinking feeling that Midoriya would be an entirely different kind of headache.

        “According to Recovery Girl, he overused his quirk during the incident.” Shota grumbled. No one really questioned him further, though Thirteen decided to speak up.

        “Speaking of Midoriya. His quirk… I’m not entirely certain what it is. What happened during the incident was… incredibly odd.”

        Shota really didn’t want to talk about it. Midoriya’s quirk was Pandora’s box, as far as he was concerned, and talking about it would do no one any good. But Nezu had that glint in his eyes.

        “How do you mean? Did he do something during the event?”

        “Haven’t you read the police reports?” Shota sighed. Nezu doesn’t bother answering that. Thirteen squirmed in their chair.

        “I’d like to hear it from someone who was there.” Nezu’s voice was calm and level. Every word sent a chill down Shota’s spine. Thirteen hesitated before speaking up to answer.

        “Um. At first, he was fine. I didn’t even notice him. But when… No… Actually, right before the villains showed up, he knew something was going to happen. He panicked and said we needed to leave, as if he were afraid for his life. Then the portal opened,” Shota frowned. Thirteen continued, “What doesn’t make sense is the scope of his power. Sensory quirks are odd, of course. But when he used his quirk on the students, it felt like everyone was connected. I couldn’t even begin to describe what we heard… The music was beyond me. Everyone affected felt something though. Midoriya overwrote their panic and fear and encouraged them to fight. Somehow it felt as if they could predict each other as well. Like an experienced pair of pros who know one another well. He never moved while using his quirk. It drove him pass out from overuse. But somehow, he managed to gather everyone and make planning the fight basically unnecessary, on top of turning an ambush into a fair fight.”

        “A quirk able to synchronize a group that large… Sounds like Mandalay.” Snipe offered.

        “Not a bad thought. But Thirteen is right. Midoriya’s quirk was a lot more. When we took down that Nomu, it allowed us to seamlessly plan an ambush without any sort of communication. He was directing us the entire time, pushing the students and improving their combat skills. The villains hesitated, too. Anyone would in the face of that kind of noise.” Shota told them. Snipe tapped their mask.

        “If I may…” All Might coughed weakly and leaned over the table. Everyone looked a bit shocked to hear from him. “I met young Midoriya on an incident before this year. The slime villain that attacked ten months ago actually attacked young Midoriya before young Bakugo. I talked to him a bit. Apparently, his quirk grants him a bit of… I think the only way to describe it is a premonition.”

        “How so?” Thirteen blinked.

        “He said that, before the villain attacked, ‘the music changed to something dark.’ This is just a guess, but I’ve thought about it quite a bit since seeing him in action. He’s lived with it for so long that he reacts to it instinctually, turning even a few seconds of advance notice into a rather large advantage.” All Might offered. Everyone seemed less than happy with that answer, but it was something. A piece of the key to a box Shota didn’t want anything to do with.

        “How interesting. I look forward to seeing how he develops these abilities. In the meantime, if you’re curious, Thirteen-kun, please feel free to call Midoriya in for a chat. I’d love to hear what he has to say.” Nezu’s smile looked more like a scalpel than the grin of something living. Thirteen hummed, but didn’t say anything else.

        Shota wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Midoriya. It had barely been a week since classes started, and the green-haired troublemaker had gone from the bottom of his class rank to the top in a rather spectacular fashion, all while keeping everyone in the dark about just what the hell his quirk actually did.

        As they filed out after the meeting, he heard someone mutter something about the Sports Festival and how that the first-year stage will be interesting. He couldn’t help but agree.

Chapter Text

        A.C.T.: Midoriya is nosey and no one knows how to deal

        Tenya is the first into the classroom. He always has been, and he always will be.

        Except when he isn’t.

        Finding Midoriya pouring over notes from the previous week with a frustrated expression is both confusing and excellent. Tenya was glad to see another student taking initiative.

        Or he would’ve been if Midoriya didn’t look as if he hadn’t slept at all in the time since they had seen one another.

        At first Tenya wanted to say hello, but Midoriya hadn’t noticed him come in. Before Tenya could even make his way across the room, Midoriya got frustrated enough to groan aloud and snap his (mechanical) pencil in half. The sound of Midoriya’s head hitting the desk was a bit too solid for Tenya to be anything other than worried about his classmate.

        “Midoriya-kun! Please, don’t take your frustration out on your school supplies!” Tenya’s hand shot out towards the desk for emphasis (emphasis!). Midoriya groaned something unintelligible through his desk and notebook. “I can’t hear you, Midoriya-kun. Please sit up properly.”

        Watching Midoriya pick himself up was very similar to watching a zombie rise from the grave, and the look he shot Tenya could be a certified hero attack. Tenya suddenly felt very small beneath the haunted green glare.

        “Do your notes talk back to you, Iida-san?” Tenya’s mouth opened, though no words came out. Memories of Midoriya’s quirk, and the music he heard, played back through Tenya’s mind and he had no response for that. Midoriya’s hand settled on the open book, all while the glare remained level on Tenya, and the sounds began to play through their empty classroom.

        For the third time in a week, Tenya had to force himself to breathe after hearing Midoriya’s quirk. He can’t help feeling a bit uncomfortable because each time has made him feel a shockingly different set of emotions.

        Midoriya’s notebook didn’t sound like any sort of music Tenya knew. It sounded as if a hundred different people were trying to whisper different things in his ear. For a brief moment he tried to listen and found himself hearing a hundred different tales of history in too much detail. Stories of librarians and wars and shoguns and emperors and harlots, interwoven into a history that’s far too deep, too real for him to even comprehend. Three minutes passed before he forced himself to blink and stare down at the notebook, and the kanji written in Midoriya’s (shaky, but legible) hand.

        “What…”

        “We use language to do just about everything, Iida-san.” Midoriya growled. “Try taking notes while your writing tells you all the things it's seen.”

        Tenya’s mouth was suddenly very dry. Slowly, he’d learned bits and pieces about Midoriya’s quirk, but none of it really made much sense… although, when he thought about what Midoriya said, it’s a surprisingly simple conclusion.

He wandered to his desk and watched as Midoriya re-read his notes, constantly on the edge of ripping out his hair for the next thirty minutes. Each student who entered the room afterwards took one look at Midoriya and immediately looked to someone else for help. Seeing Todoroki, who froze a building whole, look to Iida with a worried expression on his face only made Tenya worry for Midoriya even more. Watching Uraraka sidle past his desk, trying hard to look the other way and ignore the boy’s muttering, made nearly everyone cringe out of sympathy.

Bakugo barely batted an eye.

        Tenya isn’t entirely sure what to think of his time at Yuuei yet. His teachers (and Midoriya, for some strange reason) deviated from every expectation he’d had.

        “You don’t have time to rest yet.” Izuku felt something crawling up his spine as his teacher shifted to look directly at him. “The U.A. Sports Festival is coming up soon.”

        The class erupted into shouts of surprise (why everyone thought that the Sports Festival was normal was beyond him).

        “But didn’t the school just get attacked by villains? Even if no one was hurt…?!”

        “It’s necessary. Both to demonstrate that Yuuei’s security is foolproof, and to give our students their chance. This even isn’t something we can afford to simply cancel.” Aizawa answered the outburst.

        A few watery chimes rang out through the class. Izuku didn’t blame them. Part of him wanted to tell them how the Festival changed things, how happy people were while it was going on. It brought people together in a way that few events could, and made people sing with more determination than before. But he couldn’t, so he sat quietly. Aizawa heard it, though, and spoke up again.

        “Security will be five times what it’s been in previous years. On top of having Endeavor and All Might in attendance…,” Izuku blinked when he heard Shōto’s song hiccup (usually he was quiet as a mouse), “And besides. This is one of the events that the entirety of Japan looks forward to. Cancelling this would be the equivalent of cancelling one of the world sporting events of the past.”

        Before any of them could decide that having just been the subject of a villain attack was a little more important, Aizawa continued.

        “This event gives our students the chance to be scouted by the pro hero community. Third years will receive offers to become sidekicks. Second years will be checked for growth. First years will be scouted to see which of you should be listed as an interest. The Sports Festival creates opportunity for every level of our curriculum.” Aizawa swept his gaze over them all, “Be prepared. You only get three chances to make your mark on the world. You can’t afford to miss this, and we refuse to let you over something as frivolous as big-headed villains.”

        Izuku couldn't help but remember his nightmares: monsters with multiple quirks, strung together with needle and thread, and a villain drenched in bloodlust and madness. A group watching them, waiting for them to drop their guard.

        Waiting to kill All Might. The receding Symbol of Peace.

        He let himself drown in the surging anticipation of his classmates instead of thinking about that.

        Izuku watched Cementoss leave the classroom and flinched as the class erupted. Everyone had been barely holding in their excitement from Aizawa’s speech, and it was stretched to the point of breaking out regardless of period. His head was still pounding from a lack of sleep and being trapped in the mess wasn’t helping, but he focused on them anyway.

        Kirishima’s song marched onward at a jog, ready to break and run for the finish. His song and his quirk don’t seem entirely in tune yet, which is worrisome but not nearly as much as some of their other classmates. Izuku likened his song to a mountain jog, though it changed almost every day (always some sort of exercise, usually tinged with a sunny rainstorm) and watched as it leaked to their classmates. Uraraka’s song changed, as well, filling her bubbles with bursts of fire and replacing the childish laughter with the sounds of a spring storm crashing through branches. Bakugo’s storm changed so that he glided through the bolts of lightning and the torrential rain, staring at the crowd of people beneath him (Izuku wanted to grin when he noticed that Bakugo was significantly lower to the ground than before, but he hid it in the interest of surviving the day). All in all, everyone was being riled up, save for Todoroki (who was basically unshakeable) and Shoji (Izuku could feel a little bit of happiness in Shoji’s tune).

        Before he made it to the door, Iida caught him for a friendly talk. Izuku couldn’t help feel a bit bad about how he’d spoken to the class rep that morning, but Iida (despite the tension underlying his song) was determined. Seeing the serious boy do a little dance of excitement made Izuku want to bust out laughing, but he kept it in his chest and smiled instead.

        “I’m glad you’re excited Iida-san…”

        “Midoriya-kun, Iida-kun…” Izuku flinched as Uraraka unleashed the fiery bubbles in a flood. Her gaze settled on them, making him take a hasty step back. “Let’s do our best…!”

        Everyone paused as she slipped out of character. Her second battle cry caught Kirishima and Ashido, startling everyone even more.

        Not for the first time in his life, Izuku hated his quirk. There was something buried deep beneath Uraraka’s song that he’d been avoiding for a while now. A shadow that hung over the bubbliness of her heart. He was all too familiar with that shadow. Echoes of an empty stomach and the scrape of bare floorboards played inconsistently in the depths of her fire, feeding the determination until it boiled over.

        He watched them smile at one another, listening to the cracks and the missed notes and the echoes of things people didn’t want to talk about. After a few minutes, his chest tightened enough that he turned and walked out of the room.

        It’s none of my business. Izuku chewed his lip. Leave them alone already. Even if they’re friendly…

        He paused when All Might’s song reached him. It was quiet today. When All Might pulled out his lunch a trill similar to a Magical Girl show pealed out and Izuku had to bite back another laugh.

        “Want to eat lunch together?”

        Tea steamed on the table as All Might took his seat. Izuku watched him carefully. All Might was worried about something, which was never a good thing.

        “You talked about the Sports Festival in class today, yes?” Izuku nodded. All Might pointed a finger at him, “You still can’t regulate One for All, can you?”

        Izuku cocked his head.

        “You know I can, don’t you?” He asked. All Might spewed blood from the sides of his mouth. “A-ah, s-sorry! I thought you knew! You’ve c-come to the beach a few times when I was practicing!”

        “You knew…?” All Might wiped the blood up with a tissue and glanced up at Izuku. Izuku nodded, tightening his hands around one another.

        “I… I get caught up in my quirk, but I can still tell sometimes.”

        “Why didn’t you say anything?” All Might muttered. Izuku smiled weakly.

        “I didn’t want to overstep…? You always left after a little while, so I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” All Might sighed.

        “Young Midoriya… Not much gets by you, hmm?”

        “I… I’m sorry.” Izuku blushed.

        “Don’t apologize my boy. Let’s talk about One for All,” All Might’s eyes glinted, “How much can you use safely?”

        Izuku took a deep breath and felt the power humming in his chest.

        “I… Not much. Even with my quirk, I can barely power up at all. One for All doesn’t like being controlled.”

        “Hmm. Not surprising. Could you show me?” Izuku nodded and tuned One for All to his song. After a few seconds the power flowed through his body. He could feel his body humming in tune with One for All, beating like a giant speaker and throwing off arcs of green lightning when the song peaked. When he was stable, he stood up and flexed against the limit his body could handle, causing his body to groan in response.

        “I… I think it’s only a fraction of One for All… not even a tenth of the full power…” Izuku muttered. All Might swelled into his hero form and held out a hand.

        “Let’s test it out.” Izuku frowned and nodded.

        “All right…” He swung, striking All Might’s open hand hard enough that a breeze blew through the room. All Might nodded.

        “It’s definitely lower than ten percent. But you’re moving! That’s what matters. You’ve managed to take the power and make it your own! I’m proud of you.” Izuku stared at All might for a moment. “Young Midoriya? Is something the matter?”

        “Um… S-sorry, no. I’m fine.” Izuku’s hair fell back into his face as he released his quirk and let it fade from his body. For a moment, he’d felt something. Almost like a resonation between All Might and his punch.

        Was that the embers of One for All, or was that something he could use with other people too…?

        “Anyways. Now that you’ve got a hold on One for All. I’d like to ask you something,” Izuku felt the ominous tones, tinged with All Might’s ever constant ‘hope,’ begin to hum through the room. He knew what was coming, “My time as the Symbol of Peace is waning. If that attack yesterday had gone differently, I’m certain I’d have been pushed beyond my limit. You were there, and you stopped them with your power. You’ve proved every time that you are the one worthy of One for All, and now you’ll be on a stage with the entire world watching.

        “It’s time for you to tell them that my successor, the fledgling Symbol, has come to save them. Tell the world I AM HERE.”

        Izuku flinched beneath All Might’s presence. Even knowing it was coming, he couldn’t stop himself. All Might was one of the greatest heroes for a reason.

        “I… Is that really okay?” All Might’s moment shattered. The room went silent in the face of his question. Izuku swallowed the knot in his throat, “Um… Sorry, I just mean… I can barely hold that power. And my quirk, if it acts up again, I could hurt people…”

        “Young Midoriya. Let me confide in you a few things,” All Might sighed, “Your heart is in the right place. But the difference between those who aim for the top and those who don’t… it will mark the difference between those in your class who succeed and those who don’t. No one would ever be able to push their limits if they were constantly afraid of losing control and harming others. With my power, I could easily create disasters… But I’ve trained myself sufficiently. That, combined with that difference, with my drive to become the Symbol of Peace, make me who I am. Do not let yourself fall behind because you’re afraid of hurting people, Midoriya.”

        Izuku thought of the feeling he’d had during USJ. Holding his class together, straining against the aching muscles and the will to pass out beneath the strain of One for All.

        “Your power is uniquely geared towards gaining attention, my boy. I believe you will do us both proud.” All Might’s hand landed on his shoulder. Izuku felt One for All resonate within his soul, as if mimicking the gesture. None of it did anything to fill the ache in his chest.

        A crowd was waiting outside the door. He could hear the choir growing, weaving together anxiety and curiosity and jealousy into a sound like a stomachache. More jealously made it even more green, more curiosity filled him with jitters, and people just kept coming. By now there had to be at least thirty or more, people from every class in their year coming to gawk at them. Izuku was still left mostly alone, so he sat and watched nervously as his classmates headed towards the door.

        When the door slid open Izuku had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from being sick. One song in particular made his skin crawl and his stomach heave. The music slid across his skin, trying to get into his head and drown everything else out. He was lucky enough to clamp down and shut it out before losing his lunch (he’d done that once in middle school, when he’d first learned about those quirks). A purple haired student was slipping through the crowd, facing Bakugo down.

        Izuku made a note to avoid that student at all costs. People like him were dangerous, even if their background noise said otherwise.

        Bakugo pushed through the crowd, though not before leaving a simple message to his classmates (as Bakugo will do).

        “It’s not like this changes anything. I’m aiming for the top.”

        The difference between those who aim for the top and those who don’t… it will mark the difference between those who succeed and those who don’t. All Might had told him. Izuku frowned and stared at the door.

        There had never been a time when Bakugo wasn’t destined for the top. He’d put everyone in the dirt as he learned the difference between himself and others, slowly transforming into a storm that would beat anyone and everyone into submission. Bakugo couldn’t know the power of those who were actually pros. Izuku was sure that Bakugo could hold his own against some of them, but he’d be destroyed by others.

        Among his classmates, Izuku knew there were several who could make the pro industry. Nearly all of them, actually. But some of them would fail, if they kept doubting themselves.

        Slowly they began filing out. Izuku watched them and listened carefully. He knew the ones who would have trouble, and the ones who would probably figure it out on their own.

        If they had two weeks… could he save them all before the Sports Festival?

        Home had gotten… better. Not great. But Izuku could always work with better. That night, over dinner, he told his mom about the Sports Festival. Worry infested her song, as it always did. For such a beautiful song, it had grown more and more strained over the years. Izuku really didn’t want to think that chasing his dream was the cause, but he knew.

        Izuku always knew. He hated himself for it and drove onward anyways.

        She wished him good luck and asked him about training. He lied and told her that he had a pretty good idea of how he’d handle it. They retreated to their rooms too soon after dinner. Izuku tried to block out his quirk. Inko did her best to listen, and try being comforted by the emptiness of their home.

        Izuku groaned as he jogged towards the school entrance. He’d overslept and was running late. A headache pounded through his head like an oblivious violin stretched against its will. Every other song on the train and the walk made his ears hurt, so he avoided people as much as possible. When he got to the classroom, everyone turned to look his way. Few of them waved a greeting, but his mood the past few mornings was enough that no one wanted to approach him.

        For the first time, he wished they all just get it over with. He could feel the anxiety, the anticipation, rising in everyone’s song. They were just… stuck. Stuck until someone approached him first. Mind reading would have been a better quirk, Izuku thought. He wouldn’t be able to read nineteen minds at once, and he’d probably be able to deal with words better than music. At least then his notes wouldn’t try to seduce him.

        Class skated by, making his headache consistently worse. Taking notes and working problems made him want to scream. He knew he was muttering, and he was past caring.

        Iida and Uraraka tagged along with him during lunch, though they didn’t say anything. Izuku realized as they walked into the hallway that it was more him tagging along with them and decided to try not to think about that. They’d waited for him, after all.

        “You look like you got run over by a truck.” Izuku blinked. Jirou’s soft jazz pulsed beside him. Unlike most songs, hers beat quietly on purpose. Acoustic music filled the air around her like weak smoke. Her voice filled the smoke, washing over him like sweet liquor. Quietly, beneath the smoke, something very un-jazz-like rumbled. After a moment of getting lost in the tune, Izuku noticed how little it actually projected. She barely let herself be heard at all, which somehow let her sneak up on him despite having one of those songs that Izuku loved getting lost in. Most of the time songs projected the same way a person did: if you were close enough to hear them talk, you could hear their song.

        Izuku hummed to himself. He’d thought Jirou was a safe bet. Apparently, she needed to go on his list too.

        “Huh? Is it that bad?” Izuku grumbled. Jirou smirked. Uraraka smiled nervously and rubbed the back of her head.

        “You’ve… been a little scary lately Midoriya-kun.”

        “S-sorry.” Izuku muttered. He eyed Jirou. “I, um… would you like to sit with us?”

        The other two nodded along (Izuku was glad they were so welcoming). Jirou shrugged.

        “I guess that works. I was hoping to talk to you anyways.”

        They made small talk as they passed through the line, then found a table in the mess and took their seats. Iida took the seat beside Izuku, which surprised him. He’d thought Iida didn’t want much to do with him after his mood.

        “So.” Jirou caught his attention. “What’s up with your quirk, anyways?”

        Izuku cocked his head to one side.

        “I… you’ll have be a little more specific?”

        “I thought it was some sort of weird amplification thing. But during USJ, I caught the full force of… whatever you were doing. Now I’m even more confused than I was after the entrance tests.” Jirou twirled a jack in one hand and kept stared at him with heavily lidded eyes.

        “His quirk is really nice!” Uraraka jumped in, smiling brightly. Izuku winced as her bubbles popped in his head, sending spikes of pain through his aching skull. Iida’s monotone and Jirou’s quiet song were working wonders, but they could only do so much. “The music is super pretty. And it kept everyone safe during USJ!”

        “That. How exactly did you do what you did during USJ?” Jirou snapped her fingers at Uraraka. Izuku frowned.

        “I… It was just a guess. I projected my song to everyone, and they all ended up projecting because of me. I’m kind of like a speaker.” He shrugged.

        “More like a sound tech.” Jirou sighed and took a bite of her meal. “So, what we heard, that was what you hear all the time?”

        “Oh… Um, yeah. Just mine, though. I can’t really turn it off without trying really hard. But it’s not exactly the same…? What I hear is more fragmented. Everyone’s songs play at once, so I need to sort through them.” Izuku tapped his cheek with his chopsticks.

        “That sounds very difficult. How did you manage to connect everyone at USJ?” Iida asked quietly. Izuku shrugged.

        “How do you change gears?”

        “Well, a feeling builds up in my legs and when I feel as though I’ve covered the right distance, or my speed isn’t sufficient, I focus on my legs and change gears.” Iida pushed his glasses up his nose.

        “Do you change one leg at a time?” Izuku asked. Iida paused with a bit of rice halfway to his mouth.

        “I…”

        “Is it a lever, like a manual transmission car, or more like a dial that you gradually turn?”

        Iida’s rice fell out of his grip onto the table.

        “You run on orange juice, right? How does it flow to the engines in your legs?” Izuku took a bite of some of his meal, then turned his eyes back to Iida and met the taller boy’s wide stare. “If you’d like, Iida-san, I can show you your song. Maybe if you think about it long enough you can figure it out.”

        “Midoriya-kun is scary when he’s tired.” Uraraka giggled. Jirou’s smirk wavered, and her song became shy. Izuku hadn’t thought she was the shy kind, but he was learning more and more with each passing moment.

        “Actually…” Izuku looked at his tray as Jirou spoke up. He knew what was coming. Curiosity was one of the emotions Izuku knew how to describe perfectly: if Jirou’s song was a ‘jazz club’, the room was full of a cat’s purr of curiosity. When the purr grew as loud as that, no one could stand it anymore. “I wouldn’t mind hearing mine. If you’re offering.”

        Izuku sighed.

        “Y-you… Are you sure?”

        “I wouldn’t have asked…” Jirou frowned.

        “Jirou-san. Let me explain my quirk a bit more.” Izuku turned to look at Iida and Uraraka, who’d heard his quirk before. They seemed keen on him now. Everyone seemed full of the cat, grinning up at him like something out of those old American stories. He’d rarely ever been the subject of so much curiosity, and it tickled his nose as if the cat were waving its tail beneath his nose. “Soul Song plays the emotions and physical condition of the people around me through music. That’s the definition on my quirk form.”

        Everyone nodded. Jirou leaned on one arm, twirling a jack around her finger as if she were bored. The light in her eyes and the way her song’s ‘vocals’ waited quietly told him she was anything but.

        “There’s… A window.” Izuku gestured with his hands, staring at them instead of at the people sitting around him. Explaining things that people couldn’t understand was awkward. Telling them his secrets was even more so. “The song starts from the moment you’re born and… evolves as you grow up. Everyone’s song changes with time, taking the parts that shape people. Emotions you feel all the time, even if you don’t notice them or you don’t want to think about them, or you try to fight it.”

        Blank stares. Izuku sighed.

        “Um… the other side, it plays up to a few moments of the future. Songs change to suit the environment they’re in, too. I’m saying this because, well, even if it may not make sense at first, it’s not really music. Listening to that, it can be… overwhelming.”

        Izuku wanted to tell them. Part of him wanted to take them back to the classroom and just… spill. Ramble on about all the things he’d heard listening to the class. Ask Jirou why she was so shy about her talent. How Uraraka felt about her times being less than fortunate, about the hunger pains and the thinness of her mattress and why she didn’t tell someone about living alone. Tell Kirishima that his quirk was strong, and he’d learn that fear wasn’t an insurmountable monster.

        All Might had guessed, by now. His mother knew, but they… they’d never talk about it.

        No one wanted to know all the things he knew. Knowing that he’d heard their shame and their sadness and their fear…

        He might break them even more than they already were.

        Telling them wouldn’t help. Izuku swallowed that desperate desire and forced himself to smile, however shaky it was.

        Maybe one day someone would ask. One day he’d be able to let it all out.

        With the Sports Festival on the horizon, no one needed know.

        “You talk a lot, but you already said it wouldn’t make sense explaining it.” Jirou muttered.

        “You’re sure?” Izuku asked. Jirou cocked an eyebrow.

        “Do you need to touch me?”

        “Um… No.” Izuku sighed. “You just want to hear yours?”

        Jirou frowned, then shut her eyes. When she looked up at him again, he saw something he didn’t understand. An emotion that was still brewing, almost like a sound that hadn’t matured. It whispered in the back of her mind, and the back of his.

        “I want to hear what you hear. All of it.” She said. Izuku frowned.

        “It might… not be easy on you.”

        “I don’t care.” Jirou crossed her arms. They were completely forgetting lunch now. Uraraka and Iida were watching them carefully. Izuku sighed.

        “All right… Um, you guys…?” He could tell already. Uraraka nodded. She’d been curious about his quirk specifically ever since her first experiences. Iida simply nodded. “Jeez… Give me a minute to figure this out.”

        “What?” Jirou blinked. “You don’t know how?”

        “No one really liked hearing my quirk before Yuuei.” Izuku muttered. “I’m still figuring out the projecting parts.”

        No one said anything after that.

        Izuku sighed and let his quirk go, feeling music pour from the world like an ocean of noise. The others couldn’t hear it yet, judging from their nervously patient songs, still full of that maddening curiosity. Somehow, he’d trained his control during the past week that locking the sound away from others was thoughtless. One for All no longer played at full throttle twenty-four seven, so that probably had something to do with it. He hesitated when he thought of Kyoka’s sensitive hearing, and began adjusting the sensations of the music so that it wasn’t entirely ‘hearing’.

        Kyoka crossed her arms and huffed.

        “It’s been almost five minutes, what…” Everyone at the table froze. Uraraka and Iida both looked uncomfortable with the slight tugging sensation in their chests. Nothing happened at first. Izuku tugged at them with his quirk, then stopped. His face twisted for a moment (the first move he’d made in several minutes). After a moment of thought, he took a deep breath.

        Kyoka’s eyes widened as she was drawn in. The tugging had disappeared entirely and was replaced by a vague sensation behind her eyes and spreading across her mind, as if some new limb was waking up. After a few moments, Kyoka felt something. Sensation on the edge of her mind, in the edge of her eye and just beyond her ears.

        “Can you feel that?” Izuku asked, face still twisted in concentration.

        “Um, yeah…” Uraraka whispered. Her face twisted in confusion. Kyoka sighed.

        “Is this it?”

        “I’m trying to get the volume right. If I just dropped you in…” Izuku huffed.

        “Just do it already, would you?” Kyoka felt her cheeks heat up. Izuku opened his eyes and frowned at her. For a moment she was worried. This was the boy who’d lost control and lit up the entire campus with his quirk, someone who faced Bakugo and won with the power to crush a building. Still, there was only the buzzing at the edge of her mind.

“Fine.” Izuku shrugged. Another moment of silence passed.

        The feeling was something like being dropped into an ocean of noise. Suddenly everything around them sang, and the room sounded like a hundred different concerts all at once. She couldn’t hear anything over the force of the new sounds. It wasn’t until she felt the tears drip onto her wrists that she realized she was crying and laughing all at the same time. Her classmates’ emotions clawed at her skin like rabid animals, filling her body with tremors and her mind with images that overwhelmed her vision.

        A hand grabbed her shoulder and the noise receded. For a few moments, there was nothing. She’d shut her eyes against the onslaught of music and clutched her ears in vain. The only thing she heard was her heartbeat thundering through her body as she shivered.

        Kyoka frowned as something warm flooded her body. An impossible sound crooned quietly in her ear, reminding her of a warm blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders. Slowly the sound faded and she heard someone begin to sing. Deep, smoky notes grew louder as she craned her neck to listen. In the background, a steady beat played out, too familiar and too alien played through bass strings. She slouched in her chair, breathing in the deep smoke of a quiet room and good, heartfelt jazz music. The music washed over her, and she felt a smile tug at her lips. Memories played out in the notes: Kyoka learning the guitar from her father and listening to her mother sing for them after a rowdy dinner, learning to slow dance from her father as her mother played the piano and struggling with the drums when her father tried to teach her.

        Tears spilled down her face as she laughed. A hand still rubbing gentle circles on her back, whispering quietly as she returned from the vision. When she opened her eyes, she found Iida sighing and smiling in relief. Midoriya and Uraraka sat on either side of her, watching closely. She was shocked to see it was Midoriya rubbing her back and muttering under his breath.

        Her eyes widened as she felt his quirk fade. The gravity that had dragged them in faded from her mind, letting her vision fade into the back of her mind.

        “Mid…” Her voice cracked and she hurriedly cleared her throat. Midoriya smiled in relief, breaking the stony mask that he’d been wearing when she woke up. He slipped to the other side of the booth and took a breath, running a hand into his curls and tugging at his hair. “Midoriya…?”

        “Sorry, Jirou-san. Uraraka-san. Iida-san.” Suddenly Midoriya looked really tired. More tired that Kyoka had noticed when she’d sidled up to him in the lunch line, which was saying something. “I… shouldn’t have done that.”

        “Midoriya-kun… was that how it is for you?” Uraraka asked quietly. Kyoka was silently very glad that the bubbly brunette was sitting so close still. She felt… cold. The last song was gone, leaving her feeling almost as if she were missing a piece of herself.

        “Eh, not that violent.” Midoriya muttered, staring down at his lunch. “But it’s something like that.”

        Kyoka glanced at Iida and frowned. The class representative was staring at the cafeteria as if he’d just gotten new glasses. She wasn’t sure what he and Uraraka had heard, but it was probably much less violent than what she had. Her hearing made things like that far, far worse.

        Kyoka wanted to kick herself. She’d known. Midoriya had knocked them both out on the first day. Why had she pushed him? Just because… because he’d tried being nice? Because she was impatient? Or because she didn’t want to deal with the weird kid anymore than necessary?

        “My quirk is a lot.” Midoriya muttered quietly. “Listening to it for little bits of time like that makes it worse. You can’t really get a feel for what it’s really like. At first, it’s just a lot of noise.”

        “Midoriya.” Kyoka’s voice was raspy as she did her best to pull herself together. “You shouldn’t have to apologize. I was the one who asked. I should have listened to you.”

        Midoriya smiled. Even if it was shaky, it was heartfelt. Kyoka couldn’t help grinning back.

        “Thank you, Jirou-san.”

        “Maybe next time we take it a bit more slowly?” Uraraka chirped, smiling now that the tension was draining from the table. Midoriya paled and lost his smile.

        “N-next time?! But, Jirou-san, she almost…! And you both, y-you were almost shouting…!”

        “I was overwhelmed.” Iida pressed his glasses up his nose, still staring at the cafeteria. Jirou had trouble reading him, for all his studious expression and odd sort of innocence. “My apologies. But I would not be opposed to trying again. Your quirk really is incredible. As class rep…”

        “Alright, alright.” Kyoka smirked. “If you guys are going to try, I’m in. Though, I’ll have to be extra careful apparently.”

        “J-Jirou-san?!” Midoriya’s eyes bugged out of his head. Kyoka shrugged.

        “I’ve never heard music like that. I’m curious.”  She said. Midoriya groaned and hung his head. “Hey, Midoriya?”

        “Eh?”

Kyoka picked at her food and took a bite.

        “What was that last song that you played? The one to help me calm down.” Midoriya glanced at the table and blushed visibly.

        “Oh, erm… That was you, Jirou-san.” Kyoka cocked an eyebrow at him. Uraraka tapped her shoulder, grinning wide.

        “He means that was your song! The one he hears from you.” Kyoka stared at Uraraka, then glanced at Midoriya’s blush and felt a bit of heat creep into her own cheeks.

        He’d heard that? Just what had he seen when he listened?

        “Oh.” Kyoka managed. Uraraka nodded and turned back to her lunch.

        When they walked back to the classroom and she drifted towards Ashido, Kirishima and Kaminari, Kyoka couldn’t help but feel like she hadn’t learned anything at all.

        Izuku was nearly used to waking up in the middle of the night. Being chased out of his bed was about as terrifying as ever, but the exhaustion dragging on him was always the same. He made his way to the beach for some mediation and quirk training, then went through his normal routine. Luckily, his backpack was large and worn enough to function as a makeshift pillow in the empty classroom.

        “Midoriya-kun!” Unless Iida came barging in and chopping his way over to Izuku’s desk. Morning people never seemed to understand the pleasure of catching little bites of sleep before the day began.

        “Morning, Iida-san…”

        “You’re very early. And you seem tired. Have you been having trouble sleeping since USJ?” Izuku wanted to slap himself. Or Iida. But that would be rude. Being rude to Iida wasn’t justified yet. A yawn split his face nearly in half.

        “I… No more than u-usual...” Izuku groaned.

        “If you’re having trouble sleeping, you should find an activity that will help!” Izuku groaned quietly to himself. “If you’d like, we can try sparring after class?”

        That made Izuku wake up.

        “Sparring? Is that allowed?” He asked. Iida nodded.

        “Yes! We can use the gym, but we need to be out of school before the campus closes! Sparring would be an excellent way of training, and exhausting yourself may be helpful if you’re having trouble sleeping!”

        Izuku thought for a moment. His usually routine was grueling, but he’d gotten used to it. Maybe adding a little more wouldn’t hurt. Asking All Might certainly wouldn’t.

        “I’ll get back to you, if that’s okay?” Iida nodded and started back towards his desk. A few steps away, he spun and chopped towards Izuku, making him jump.

        “Midoriya-kun.” Izuku blinked.

        “Y-yes?”

        “About your notes. And…” Iida cleared his throat. Izuku felt his throat tighten up when h remembered how he’d confronted Iida over the pencil snapping incident.

        “Oh, um… yes?”

        “If you’d like hep studying, we can also go over our homework and notes. Verbally, of course. So that your quirk doesn’t get in the way.” Iida spoke a bit more quietly, eyes shining with empathy and genuine care. Izuku’s chest tightened up and tears pricked his eyes.

        “I, um… Thanks, Iida-san. That means a lot to me.” Iida nodded, smiling. For a moment, his song wasn’t just a simple up and down beat. It rumbled like a car flying along the coast with the windows down, full of laughter and innocent banter.

        Izuku made it through the day, luckily. Jirou waved a few times but didn’t join them for lunch again. All Might grinned and wished him well with the sparring, which Izuku was grateful for.

        Facing down Uraraka wasn’t supposed to be scary.

        Hitting a girl was probably supposed to be daunting. Maybe not if she knew it was coming, and he wasn’t supposed to actually hit her but facing female criminals meant that you had to be less than a gentleman and the fact of the matter was that Uraraka wasn’t going to get treated well by most criminals but still…!

        “Midoriya-kun! I’m coming!”

        “Eh…!” Izuku’s eyes widened as she rushed him. Panic overwhelmed him, but when he saw her hand hart forward, he dodged out of the way.

        Her combat will revolve around her hands which means watch her shoulders and her waist, shorten your dodges and when she goes to grab you aim for the elbow not the wrist but otherwise… Izuku’s next dodge barely slipped by her outstretched arm, in toward her chest. His feet slid into place automatically and he snagged her by the forearm and shoulder. Uraraka flipped over him easily and landed on her back, coughing.

        “Ah, Uraraka-san…!”

        “Midoriya-kun, this is match!” Izuku flinched as Iida called him back. Uraraka struggled but got to her feet after a minute.

        “Midoriya-kun… you used that flip on Bakugo too, didn’t you?” Izuku stared at his feet.

        “Um, your styles are… very similar…?”

        “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Uraraka wiped her cheek and fell back into her stance. Izuku turned his gaze to the ceiling.

        “Um, Uraraka-san I’m not sure about… Ack!” He dodged as she came after him again, and again and again. Eventually he tripped her and caught her arm, deftly flipping her into a hold with her downward momentum. Once they were standing Iida and Uraraka both turned on him.

        “Midoriya-kun, you’ve gotta actually try if we’re gonna spar!”

        “Really, Midoriya-kun, running away from a practice match is incredibly rude to your partner!”

        “P-partner!” Izuku glanced back and forth between them, “I told you, I’m not sure I want to fight Uraraka-san!”

        “We’ll never get better if we don’t change things up!” Uraraka puffed herself up. Izuku could hear fire racing through the strings of her song, warming her blood till she had no choice but to let it out somehow.

        “I... but, um, I’ve never fought a girl…!” Izuku stammered.

        “You’re going to have to someday. May as well be now! No holding back, Midoriya-kun!” They stood across from one another again, and Izuku did his best to calm himself.

        There’s no way out of this I guess… After a moment of breathing he lowered his stance and pressed the rest of the world to the edge of his mind, letting Uraraka’s song flow through his ears and his song hum through his muscles. One for All died down until his song was almost nonexistent. Drifting in silence, Izuku heard Iida call the start and felt Uraraka’s song begin to beat frantically.

        Her first strike was a straight punch to his head. As her song peaked and began to fall Izuku reached out and deflected the blow. Quietly, his quirk began to come alive again, changing as Uraraka struck and reached for him. Each blow deflected gave him a little more of her pattern. Catching her between beats, when people were usually at their most vulnerable, was easier every time. Slowly the fight changed. Uraraka’s song pulsed weakly as she realized what was happened and tried to retreat, falling as Izuku tripped her and twisted her into a hold.

        “I give…” Izuku sighed and helped her up, releasing his quirk.

        “You’re really good Uraraka-san. You should be careful of being so forward though…”

        Iida and Uraraka both stared at him.

        “Midoriya-kun, what was that?” Iida asked measuredly. Part of Izuku cringed and drew inward. Whenever Iida talked like that he was trying to be nice, but there was intensity to his gaze that Izuku didn’t like.

        “Um, what do you mean?” Uraraka groaned and wandered over to where they’d left her phone on recording. Watching the fight made him wince.

        “I, um… that hold was a bit off, wasn’t it…?” The other two shared a glance.

        “Midoriya, fight Uraraka-kun without your quirk.” Izuku blinked, but nodded. When they fell into their stances, Izuku drove every song from his brain and immersed himself in a void. One for All buzzed quietly in his gut, like the static tainting it.

        When Uraraka moved to take him, he barely dodged in time. Uraraka had him on the ropes, forcing him to dodge and stumble around until he spotted one of her tells and managed to avoid being driven out of their makeshift ring. He frowned and focused on her shoulders, waiting for her to rush in with her hands again. The kick came out of nowhere, putting him back on the run. Eventually Izuku was thrown into the air and left unable to continue (Without using his quirk, at least).

        Uraraka released him and grinned.

        “So it was your quirk!” Izuku smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.

        “I, um. Sorry.”

        “Midoriya-kun!” Izuku yelped as Iida pointed towards him. “I asked that because the way you fought before was completely different. Not because using your quirk was cheating!”

        “I, but still…”

        “Next time I’ll just have to figure out a way around it.” Uraraka giggled, still showing off that determination burning in her soul.

        “Indeed. Your quirk is extremely versatile, Midoriya-kun! Now, for our match!” Izuku whined as Iida stepped onto the mat.

        “Whoo, Iida-kun!”

        “But, we just…!”

        “Here I come, Midoriya-kun!”

        Sparring was a good idea, in hindsight.

        Izuku stared at the ceiling from his floor, remembering how it felt to spar in tune with his classmates’ songs. Uraraka’s bubbles and the humming of Iida’s engines drove away the screeching madness in the back of his mind, but it reminded him of something. Even though both Uraraka and Iida seemed to have a better idea of how to spar against people (their matches had gone significantly longer, and been much more complicated than his) he’d won by listening to their songs.

        That, in and of itself, wasn’t new. Soul Song had made dodging Bakugo so much easier back when they were young. Fighting was easy when you could hear attacks and tactics in the songs. Izuku had firsthand experience with almost everyone. Certain notes and changes were universal, especially in fighting. What was new was fighting back.

        Reaching into someone’s attack just after the peak of their song and grabbing them.

        Tripping someone just as they were about to move.

        Knowing the moment someone’s momentum was gone and utilizing that split second.

        Before, he hadn’t fought back. It had never even occurred to him that knowing how someone was about to move would make fighting that much easier. Which was, frankly, stupid. The feeling of his song changing was strange. Not unusual, considering how often his song taunted his bad luck or how often he got in trouble. Feeling it change so quickly, in response to someone else’s song was new.

        “I’m adapting to my opponent so… maybe that’s it…?” A yawn peeled Izuku’s face back and left him staring at the ceiling again. “Anyone directly countering someone would change their tune… Ha, change their tune…”

        Izuku was surprised at the intensity of class the next day. The material didn’t change, but his classmates were much more… into things. Almost all of them were talking about the festival, or studying hard, or asking about teaming up for sparring and exercise. For a moment, Izuku laughed at the idea that he’d applied to Yuuei before he ever started All Might’s workout plan, because he definitely would have died.

        Even Bakugo had a better physique back then. Then again, Bakugo had a better physique compared to mostly anyone.

        A song scratch caught him unaware, prompting him to turn towards Yaoyorozu and her talking with Jirou. Jirou caught him glancing and arched an eyebrow, at which he managed a shaky wave and a smile.

        While everyone headed towards the cafeteria, Jirou caught up to him.

        “Something the matter, Midoriya?” Izuku blushed and scrubbed his head as Uraraka and Iida shot a glance towards them.

        “Eh, no… I just, I’m worried about Yaoyorozu-san.” Jirou narrowed her eyes at him.

        “Worried? Why?” The punk girl crossed her arms. Izuku yelped.

        “It’s hard to explain! My quirk… Um…” Jirou rolled her eyes.

        “Always your quirk. Whatever. Could you show me?”

        “What? But last time…!” MIdoriya moved his hands, trying his hardest not to talk about it but desperately wishing she understood. Jirou glanced away, then settled on looking over towards Yaoyorozu.

        “I was kind of rude last time. Plus, if its Yaomomo, I want to know what’s going on.” Izuku tugged his curls and shuffled forward in line. He’d gotten close to controlling the volume last time. Maybe he could manage it, but showing someone else’s song to someone…

        “I’m, uh, I don’t really feel comfortable just prying into someone’s song without their say so… I was going to ask, could you…” He glanced back and forth between Jirou and Yaoyorozu, trying to ignore the burn in his cheeks. Jirou smirked.

        “You can’t talk to her yourself?”

        “No one in this class likes me much, Jirou-san. I’d rather not initiate contact, she’ll just get more nervous…” Izuku groaned. Jirou’s smirk fell, and her eyes fell to the floor.

        “…Fine. I’ll ask. Does After school work?”

        “I’ll wait before I head to the gym.” Izuku nodded.

        “That works. Sparring with Iida and Uraraka, right? How’s that going?” Jirou raised her eyebrows.

        “Its… an experience.” Izuku muttered. Jirou rapped her fingers on his shoulder.

        “For someone who acts like paper, you’re built more like a rock than I’d expect.” Izuku turned red and stammered something of a reply but found himself unable to talk as they shuffled through the rest of the line. Jirou grinned as she headed off to Yaoyorozu’s table. Uraraka and Iida waved her off, then stared at Izuku. He buried himself in the meal and decided it was better that they didn’t know for a while yet.

        The ‘yet’ worried him even more.

        Being alone with Jirou and Yaoyorozu was nerve wracking. It turns out Yaoyorozu was taller than him, which was a bit much. Especially next to Jirou. And her song wasn’t anything like what he’d thought it was. For a moment after they shook hands, Izuku just… lost himself in it. The cracks in Yaoyorozu’s song were obvious, but there was so much more.

        A woman sang out in languages Izuku couldn’t even begin to understand, somehow singing three or four languages at once. The peaks could have shattered glass and the bass notes, despite the voice definitely being female, hit deep enough to shake Izuku’s bones. Books flew through the air overhead, pages fluttering softly in the background. Somehow a cold wind blew through the song, wheezing through the verses and setting things just a little more ‘off’. High heels and shuffling, as if others danced to the vocals, moved in a space behind the song, but the footsteps shuffled through water and splashed at odd times. Izuku thought of a ship, a sinking ship, and a ballroom, staring as the passengers grimly danced and watched the flood creep over their ankles. Cracks, like slowly freezing glass, occasionally broke the song and every few minutes the singer would lose her place, only to start again in some other place…

        “Oi, Midoriya!” Izuku yelped as Jirou swatted him on the head. “What the hell, who invites a lady to talk and then stares at her? Get it together.”

        “J-J-Jirou-san…! Ah, Oh, Yao-Yaoyorozu-s-san, oh my god I’m so sorry it was just my quirk and then the cracking and…”

        Another swat came in the middle of his rant.

        “Jeez, you’re almost as bad as Kaminari.” Izuku blushed furiously as Jirou turned to Yaoyorozu. “Sorry, Yaomomo. He’s… I don’t even know the kid, actually, why am I apologizing?”

        Izuku took a deep breath, then bowed his head.

        “I’m sorry for asking you here, Yaoyorozu-san! Um… I wanted to ask you something. Some things, actually.” He trailed off beneath her stare. Yaoyorozu had gone through a few expressions in several minutes, and at the moment confusion was the most obvious of them. She hesitated, but nodded.

        “I’m surprised you asked me here, but Kyouka-chan said it was something to do with your quirk. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious…”

        “You and me both…” Izuku muttered. He forced a nervous smile and took a breath. “Um, well, the thing is… I’d like to help, you know, before we all go into the Sports Festival.”

        The girls stared at him. Jirou raised an eyebrow.

        “Um, Midoriya-san… I don’t understand.” Yaoyorozu muttered. “How would your quirk help?”

        “Um, Jirou-san didn’t…” Izuku glanced at the shorter girl, who just shrugged.

        “I barely remember any of it anyways. No point in telling.”

        “I still don’t understand…” Yaoyorozu murmured, glancing back and forth between them. Izuku steeled himself.

        This is for her. For your classmates… your friends… Maybe friends. Possible friends. People who aren’t trying to kill you yet. Izuku reminded himself.

        “I, um, I’d like this part kept kind of, um, quiet? I’ve never told anyone before. But my quirk, well… I hear emotions. And history and conditions of people. All in sound form. Right?” The girls nodded. Izuku glanced around the empty room, at the closed door, then sighed, “Most people don’t realize it. But things like… things like trauma, or insecurity, they manifest as well.”

        For a moment, the girls didn’t say anything. Izuku thought it was just misunderstanding, but soon Yaoyorozu’s expression fell and she turned her eyes to the floor.

        “I see. So you singled me out because…”

Izuku’s eyes widened.

        “Um, no, wait, please!” He stammered. Yaoyorozu glanced up at him, all while Jirou muttered something about stabbing him under her breath. “I, um, I want to help, because I think my quirk may be able to, but I wanted you to know. I don’t, um. I don’t like just listening to people’s songs and making assumptions or saying things randomly. So, well, I’d like you to listen to what I hear. And maybe you can, I don’t know, understand it? Hearing it d-doesn’t make it easier. But sometimes it can be soothing, to hear, for some people, and I thought that maybe if we talked about something, um, I can be a good listener, or you could know more so you could talk to someone else, a real friend not some random stranger who doesn’t know you.”

        They stared at him for several minutes. Izuku turned redder by the moment. After a little bit Jirou cleared her throat.

        “Um. Okay. That happened. Yaomomo?” Yaoyorozu had to peel her eyes from Izuku to look at Jirou, who was sitting on the desk Yaoyorozu was seated at.

        “Kyouka-chan?”

        “I think I get what he’s talking about, and… I think you should do it. He’s a mess,” Jirou glanced at Izuku, and he felt the desire to help people slowly shriveling inside his gut as the urge to throw up took over, “but his quirk is serious. If he thinks it will help I think it’s worth a shot.”

        “Well. This is certainly… very out of the ordinary. Um, Midoriya-kun, what… is your quirk, exactly? Could you describe it to me, completely?” Yaoyorozu didn’t quite frown. Izuku decided it was how a lady would frown, with all the emotion and attitude of a frown save for the frown itself.

        “Oh. Um. Soul Song allows me to listen to a musical manifestation of a person’s emotional, mental and physical state. That’s the description, but it’s more of a summary, not just a state. Most of it is in the present, but everyone is affected by the past so I get sort of a… summary? I guess.” He managed weakly.

        “That… is extremely odd… How were you able to destroy a building with that?” Yaoyorozu cocked her head to one side. Jirou raised her eyebrows. Izuku laughed nervously.

        “Um, I can hear my own song, you know? So, um, I get a power up when I’m in combat by turning my song up really high. Right now I can only do so much but if I’m not careful I’ll break myself…” Izuku really hated lying about his quirk so often.

        “I… suppose that makes sense.” Yaoyorozu murmured. Jirou laughed.

        “Nothing about his quirk makes sense. It’s fine.”

        “I… Well, I don’t see how it could hurt?” Yaoyorozu frowned. “I won’t deny I’ve been feeling a bit… worried, about the Festival. How I’ll stack up against the others. My quirk, its not…”

        “Yaoyorozu-san.” Izuku surprised them all with a calm voice, reaching out a hand. “I can show you how incredible your quirk is, if you’d like. Jirou-san is here, though…”

        “She can hear. After what I’ve heard of your power, I think I’ll want someone to discuss this with later.” Yaoyorozu smiled at them. Jirou smirked.

        “Afterwards, play mine. I want to hear it again and showing Yaomomo will make us even.”

        “Um, this is really, kind of, a personal thing, so just to make sure you’re not taking this lightly…” Izuku began.

        “Midoriya-kun, please. I’d like to try, if you think it will help.” Yaoyorozu nodded at him. Izuku swallowed, suddenly feeling his throat was very dry. The girls took his hand, and Izuku closed his eyes.

        Jirou was sensitive to noise, which meant… Feeling. Careful adjustment.

        “Give me a moment… Um, to make sure Jirou-san doesn’t get hurt again.” He felt a nod from them, and some nervousness from both. Slowly, he let his quirk seep out of his body and create a bubble of sound. Careful to keep his own song muted, he drew the girls into his quirk and opened their ears to the world. Drawing people in felt as if he was letting them slide towards him, not pulling or pushing but pressing outwards with a muscle he didn’t technically have. Thinking of his quirk as a muscle was odd.

        Kyouka felt the buzz return and nervously twisted the jack in her free hand.

        She had not forgotten the last time they tried this. Pain. Chaos. Drowning in an ocean of people.

        Midoriya was dangerous, but at the same time he was as harmless as a kitten. She wondered if she’d ever figure him out.

        Just as she was about to ask if he was alright, she felt something. Distantly, music began to play but… it was so much more than music. Her mind was drawn towards the sound, and gradually it rose to greet her

        Kyouka wasn’t in a classroom anymore. Her hand still clasped Midoriya’s and Yaomomo’s, but Yaomomo was on stage, dressed in a stunning evening gown and singing a song that Kyouka would never be able to understand. Vaguely, as she listened, she realized there was a dead spot coming from Midoriya. No sound escaped him, even though she could feel something distantly familiar throbbing in her chest. She turned to Yaomomo, and suddenly understood why Midoriya had offered this at all.

        Yaomomo was a stunning woman, smart and talented in every way. People were never so cut and dry. No one was perfect. Kyouka was sinking, listening to a song that played on impossible scales and hit notes that she’d never dreamed of.  Voices rang, each one singing too many verses and never signing the right harmony to the others. It made her head throb as visions of sketches and notes and designs flooded her mind, thrown at her like a sheaf of papers. Dozens of strings and keystrokes accompanied her songs, all played well but never quite perfect. Overhead books fluttered like birds and left their own papery background noise, but several were losing pages. Each page caused the music to slip, and the occasional cracking noise throughout the entire song made Kyouka flinch every time she heard it.

        Somehow, despite the beauty and the depth of the music, Yaoyorozu’s song was attacking itself. Trying to sing too loudly, trying to move to grab the books. Even though those things shouldn’t have been sounds Kyouka heard them clear as day.

        And beneath it all, the chill of the windows of an empty study, the lingering frost of a cold shoulder and those same damn assumptions Kyouka barely ever saw herself.

        The same assumptions she’d made about Yaomomo.

        Warmth radiated from the song, but it was tired and fighting off the cold. Surrounded by so many apathetic dancers, she couldn’t keep it up. Her song cracked under the strain of the ice and the reaching out. Missed notes and scratches in the background were starting to give Kyouka a headache, when finally, the noise began to recede. An ache began to form in her chest.

        Before they could pull away, another song came to them. Kyouka knew this one. She walked through memories with a bittersweet smile as the song played, but she wondered.

        What do they see of me? Kyouka pulled herself from the memories and floated on the music alone. Her voice, perfectly suited to a low-lit club, rang through the rom like smoke. In the background, jazz played quietly, though for the moment her song was sobering. Sad, even. All the same the music played on, and Kyouka felt the ache in her chest become a solid throb. It wasn’t perfect. The song was quiet and shy. Music played slowly, pronounced and perfect but humming just like the ache in her chest.

        Slowly her song faded, leaving a very… exhausted looking Yaomomo and a very quiet Midoriya.

        “I…” Yaoyorozu’s voice cracked, and she hurriedly cleared her throat. “I, um. That was very… powerful. Midoriya-kun.”

        “Yaoyorozu-san, may I show you one more thing?” Kyouka frowned. Midoriya didn’t look like the scared little boy who’d been shuffling around their school. This was the boy who’d brought them together during USJ. He’d defeated Bakugo through sheer force of will and destroyed a Zero-Pointer to save Uraraka.

        He heard everyone’s soul crying out and decided to help when he saw someone hurting.

        “I… yes, I suppose.” Yaomomo nodded, looking about as drained as possible. Kyouka definitely understood. Only a few minutes had passed but it felt like so much more. Sound bloomed at the back of their mind, and this time, Kyouka couldn’t understand it at all. There was so much happening that she couldn’t…

        Midoriya took a deep breath. The vertigo she’d felt in the beginning came back full force, and suddenly Kyouka felt as if she were actually falling. Static noise silenced, dropping her straight into a void of nothing. Kyouka never remembered closing her eyes, but there she was…

        Soft keystrokes blossomed out of the emptiness, followed by an equally soft string. As the music played, a pair of voices began to ring out in the darkness, tinted by smiles and laughter. The song grew louder, and Kyouka felt herself be swept up in it. Yaomomo stood with her, hands held tight and a hand on the small of her back. Both of their voices wound around them in a double helix, creating a harmony that shouldn’t have been. Faint red light and vibrant blue blended to a rich purple behind her eyelids as the music bloomed into the song it was supposed to be. In her chest, she felt Yaomomo’s heartbeat pulsing in time with her own as they swayed to their song.

        Their song, Kyouka realized. Despite the illusion and the music, Kyouka couldn’t help but listen for the third part. A part that should have been there but wasn’t. Emptiness came from the third member of their group, as if the sound died the moment it got close. Something reverberated in her soul, but it was too faint even for her ears to pick up.

        After several minutes, Midoriya drew back and gave them a strained smile. Yaomomo beamed at him, then up at Kyouka. Kyouka yelped as the taller girl stood and drew her into a hug.

        “That… I don’t have the words…” The taller girl whispered. Kyouka smiled and rubbed Yaomomo’s back. Midoriya stood up and grabbed his bag.

        “Yaoyorozu-san.” They glanced at him. Before he looked away, Kyouka thought he was sad, despite the smile on his face. “If you’re feeling down, you should turn to your friends. It’s what we’ve got classmates and friends for, after all. Songs are so much more beautiful when there’s more than one person singing.”

        Yaoyorozu tried to say something, it seemed. But her words didn’t come out, and they watched him leave the room quietly.

        “He… Is he really our age?” Yaomomo breathed, staring at the door. Kyouka frowned.

        “He really doesn’t make any goddamn sense.” Kyoka muttered. A flush ran up her cheeks, and she huffed at herself.

        He’s like a scared puppy. Midoriya isn’t even worth getting worked up over. Kyouka scolded herself. Give them all a few years and maybe. No one wanted someone afraid of their own shadow.

         “Midoriya.” Shōto glanced over his shoulder as their class drew a collective breath and stared at them, then turned back to his target. Midoriya glanced up and failed to bite back a yawn.

         “Eh… Todoroki-san…?”

         “You’re probably the strongest person in our class.” Midoriya perked up at that. His green hair wobbled as he looked around the room and frowned up at Shōto. Something flashed in his eyes. “But objectively, I’m better with my quirk than you are. All Might and the other teachers have their eyes on you. I’m going to beat you today.”

         Shōto clenched his fist as the world began to hum.

         “I really can’t catch a break…” Midoriya muttered. For a moment, the green haired youth scrubbed his hands through his hair and groaned aloud. Abruptly Midoriya stood up and stomped over till he stood right in front of Shōto, eyes glowing. No…

         Midoriya was glowing, sparking with green lightning, and Shōto was alone standing in front of him. Something tugged at the edge of his mind, as if he were being drawn towards Midoriya. Before he could move the world began whispering in his ear. Moments passed as the whispers grew louder, never quite reaching him. He stared into Midoriya’s eyes, drawn into the glowing green and white and black as everything began to swirl together.

         Ice crept up his spine. Real ice, ice from his quirk. Shōto was trapped in a blizzard, freezing and alone in front of Midoriya. Midoriya’s light held all the warmth of a mirror, illuminating a circle in the snow and leaving Shōto to watch as the ice snaked up his arms. A dull ache came from his left side, throbbing in spite of the creeping frost. Orange lines ran from his chest down his left arm, refusing to die even as ice surrounded his left side and grew.

         Shōto opened his mouth to cry out and the ice crept into his mouth. He froze there, staring at Midoriya with the cry for help on the tip of his frozen tongue. Midoriya’s eyes unfocused and then turned to look over Shōto’s shoulder, at something behind him.

         Shōto couldn’t move.

         He couldn’t breathe.

         The fire came more easily than Shōto liked. Everyone in the room jumped when it sparked off his left side and was mercilessly crushed by his now clenched fist. He gasped for breath, reaching for his throat and rubbing the soft flesh beneath his jaw.

         “What…” Shōto choked. Midoriya grabbed him by his uniform, somehow pulling upwards and dragging Shōto to his toes, forcing him to look down into the shorter boy’s eyes.

         “Come after me, Todoroki, and I will break you.” Shōto took a step back as Midoriya released him and stalked away. Everyone collectively stared as he made it to the door, threw it open and walked out.

         “Jesus, Todoroki, what was that about?” Shōto glanced at Kaminari, standing next to him as bewildered as Shōto felt.

         “I… Did you see that…?” Kaminari glanced at him, looking a bit worried.

         “See what? Midoriya grabbing you? That was hard to miss man.” Shōto stared at him for a bit longer. “Um… Was there something else to see?”

         “…No.” Shōto turned to stare at the door. As the class moved to follow Midoriya, Jirou caught him and patted his shoulder, closely followed by a gentle grip from Iida. He lingered, glancing at his left hand and thinking of those burning veins running down his side.

         “Come after me, Todoroki, and I will break you.”

         Shōto clenched his fist and scowled as he followed his classmates.

Chapter Text

        Chpt 4: Putting the Pieces in their Place

        They thought that first ‘explosion’ was big? He wasn’t even trying

        Contrary to popular belief, the advice of his peers and colleagues meant a lot to Toshinori. All Might was a pillar, yes, but there were always countless people supporting that pillar. Recovery Girl may insist that he never listened, but he did what he believed was right. Even when that meant foisting the fate of the world onto the shoulders of a fifteen-year-old boy. He didn’t necessarily want to put pressure on Izuku. Recovery Girl was right when she said Izuku wasn’t ready.

        Finding Midoriya on the beach the morning before Yuuei’s Sports Festival made his scar ache. He’d hoped that his protégé was getting rest for once. Talking didn’t seem like Midoriya’s coping method, but Toshinori was starting to suspect that Midoriya didn’t actually have a coping method.

        Midoriya was covered in seat and green lightning, struggling with the most basic motions of fighting. Toshinori was a bit worried about the scowl on Midoriya’s face. He’d wanted his successor to be able to smile proudly on the stage.

        “Young Midoriya!” Toshinori called out well before he got near, but that didn’t stop Midoriya from leaping nearly ten feet into the air and yelping.

        “All Might!” The boy scampered up, dusting sand off his clothing and taking deep breaths. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you coming.”

        Toshinori’s eyebrows rose.

        “Are you all right my boy? What are you even doing here at four thirty in the morning?” Toshinori asked. Midoriya tensed up, then shrugged and flopped down onto the sand.

        “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted to train instead.” The boy muttered.

        “Midoriya, do… are you having trouble sleeping?”

        Midoriya tensed up like broken glass when Toshinori asked the question.

        “…Aren’t you here for the same reason?” Midoriya muttered, digging a hand into the beach.

        “Well, tonight I was hoping that I wouldn’t find you here. But occasionally, I have a bit of trouble staying asleep.” Toshinori rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve been making… incredible progress, young Midoriya. I’m proud of you. But you need to take care of yourself, or else you’ll end up…”

        Like me. Toshinori couldn’t bring himself to say it.

        “All Might.” Izuku looked up at him with glowing eyes. “Was there ever anyone who didn’t want to be saved?”

        Toshinori blinked in surprise.

        “Well. I don’t know about that, but… There are people who think that they have to do things on their own. A few times I ran into something like that. It’s never easy.”

        “What would you do? Like, if someone didn’t realize they needed saving, or you had to dig into someone's life to save them.” Midoriya went back to watching the sand fall through his fingers. Toshinori frowned.

        “My boy, I’ve always thought that a vital part of being a hero is putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. Sometimes, there are people who don’t understand that they don’t need to be in pain. For whatever reason… they might keep suffering. Heroes exist to reach out and save people like that.” Toshinori turned his eyes to the sand in Midoriya’s hand as the faces of his failures passed before his eyes. His voice was a bit tighter than he liked. “Sometimes, they’ll go further than you and I could imagine to avoid being saved.”

        “…I’m sorry I asked.” Midoriya sighed.  Toshinori shook his head and shrugged.

        “There’s nothing to be sorry for my boy. Would you like to talk about what’s bothering you?”

        “…I just feel behind. And everyone’s been stressed about the festival, so I’m drinking in stress on top of my own.” Midoriya stood up and looked down at his hand. Green lightning covered his skin for a moment before he returned to normal. Toshinori frowned.

        Why hadn’t he realized that Midoriya would be especially in danger of over-stressing before such a huge event?

        “Even if that’s the case, getting a bit more rest won’t hurt. How long have you been out here, anyway?” Toshinori groaned. Midoriya winced.

        “Um… I lost track…” The boy muttered. Toshinori sighed.

        Toshinori had learned a long time ago that Midoriya lied when he knew people wouldn’t like the answer. Sadly, Toshinori had also learned back then that Midoriya lied more often than he told the truth some days.

        “Come on, my boy. It’s time we got you home to bed.” The drive was quiet. Midoriya dozed a bit against the door, and when Toshinori dropped him off the boy barely said a word.

        Everyone’s been stressed, so I’ve been drinking in stress on top of my own… Toshinori hummed quietly to himself as he pulled away from the Midoriya’s apartment. Slowly, carefully, Toshinori replayed the events of the past few weeks through his mind. Midoriya had been doing better in class and working harder than ever before. People had begun taking a shine to him, despite his lacking people skills and his lonely tendencies.  Even being a little irritable in the morning or tired didn’t stop the boy from making massive strides in controlling his powers or sparring with his classmates.

        Toshinori knew he’d messed up. Midoriya was careful. Quiet, but full of empathy and honesty. A boy like that wouldn’t ever tell someone if they were having trouble, which meant it was his job to figure it out before things like this happened. Despite knowing Midoriya for over a year, Toshinori couldn’t remember the last time Midoriya had mentioned any sort of personal trouble to him. If he was letting things slip, then it was worse than he was really letting on.

        Someone with an empathy quirk as powerful as Midoriya would need a lot more help than Toshinori had already been given. Especially after something like the USJ incident.

        “…it felt like everyone was connected…” Thirteen had said. If Midoriya was using his quirk, and Toshinori had any idea of how it worked, then that meant Midoriya had been able to filter through everything in the USJ…

        Wait. Toshinori felt something wriggling in the hole where his stomach used to be. Everything in the USJ. Including villains.

        Izuku throttled his quirk so hard that he arrived at school with a headache and slumped into his chair with the grace of a zombie. More and more people arrived, each of them avoiding his desk like the plague and chattering nervously as the hour drew close. Aizawa arrived at some point and ferried them to the dome, allowing them to change into their gym uniforms on the way. When Aizawa left them in the lockers, Izuku felt a knot of dread begin forming in his stomach.

        Blocking out the songs completely seemed impossible. He couldn’t just turn off his quirk or his ears. Static fuzz filled the room, snaking along his bones with a hiss while his classmates chatted nervously. Each person felt like a fly, with their own unique presence. After a little while Izuku simply gave up and let the sound bloom into what it was supposed to be (all but that one song, the only classmate Izuku wanted absolutely nothing to do with). Surfing on the waves of the songs was actually more calming than leaving them fuzzy.

        “Midoriya.” Izuku yawned, painfully trying to fight it off and failing miserably, as he turned to face his classmate.

        Todoroki was an interesting case. Like Aizawa, but not. Soul songs were all unique, after all. Aizawa’s quirk song made it nearly impossible for Izuku to hear the resonance of his soul, though Izuku could snatch a few bits of information on their sensei when he shut his eyes. Meanwhile, Todoroki was a frozen lake of calm. Nothing about his soul escaped, and the end result was a barely audible whisper in the back of Izuku’s mind and their classmates’ discord. If Jirou was a quiet song, Todoroki was an empty space in the music, with something stirring in the void.

        “Eh… Todoroki-san…?” Izuku managed.

          “You’re probably the strongest person in our class,” Todoroki stated. Izuku glanced around, noting that now Todoroki (and Izuku, the subject of his glare) had the attention of everyone in the room. Nausea and irritation swirled together in Izuku’s gut as he met Todoroki’s eyes again, “But objectively, I’m better with my quirk than you are. All Might and the other teachers have their eyes on you. I’m going to beat you today.”

        Anger was something Izuku didn’t like. Hating the anger formed a cycle that only made the original anger worse, and then all of it ended up getting thrown at someone who wasn’t prepared for the massive outburst coming their way. Being angry at Todoroki really, really wasn’t fair to Todoroki. On a good day, Izuku would’ve seen this coming and done something to head it off or made a point of looking extra small.

        Maybe bottling up all his emotions instead of talking about it wasn’t helping.

        For a moment Izuku’s vision blurred. His face flushed, and his ears felt as if they were on fire. Tears threatened to seep from his eyes. Molten anger ran down Izuku’s throat and collected in his chest like a solid weight, bubbling and threatening to burst outwards with the force of a bomb.

        “I really can’t catch a break…” Izuku muttered, clenching his jaw against the tirade on the tip of his tongue. He tugged at his hair and took a breath before standing up and facing Todoroki.

        The difference between those who aim for the top and those who don’t… All Might had said. Your power is uniquely geared towards gaining attention, my boy. I believe you will do us both proud.

        Todoroki was cold and distant. He wasn’t aiming for the top like the rest of them, Izuku realized. Izuku pressed his anger down deeper than he ever had before, silencing his song entirely. After a moment or two, he drew Todoroki close and took hold of Todoroki’s frozen heart.

        Izuku scowled as he listened to the music simmering beneath the surface.

        I’ve always thought that a vital part of being a hero is putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. All Might had said.

        Well, Todoroki was on the list. Time to get to work.

        I was content to leave you alone before. Izuku frowned and stormed towards Todoroki, keeping his eyes locked on the taller boy’s eyes. One for All came easily, filling him with real power as his quirk took hold of Todoroki’s song and pressed against the frozen sphere till it cracked.

        Todoroki’s song screamed. Izuku’s anger froze solid in his gut when he heard the voices screaming, leeching the life from the room.  No instruments played in the void beneath Todoroki’s outer shell of calm. A woman screamed in pain and fear. Children cried and whispered from the distance, but there was no life to their voices. Something hissed beneath the creeping ice like water poured across hot coals.

        One for All filled Izuku with the hopes and dreams of the people who’d born his strength before him, as well as the people who’d been saved by that power.

        Half-Cold-Half-Hot filled Todoroki with the rage and anger of a broken family.

        Shōto’s quirk didn’t sing at all. The resounding portion of the music fought against the peaks and trapped Shōto in frozen chains. Izuku felt as if they were falling deeper and deeper, even though they hadn’t ever moved from the locker room. A song without anything to lift it up burned away Shōto’s song until he was barely a shell of a person.

        Izuku could feel anger, hate, pain, sadness and loneliness inside Shōto. None of it escaped his legacy. There wasn’t a single shred of “Shōto” within his soul.

        Deep, deep within the void Izuku found Shōto trapped knee deep in a snowdrift. A blizzard howled and tore at their gym uniforms. Shōto’s right side had ice creeping out of it, slowly forming a glacier where he stood. On the left, veins of orange coals spread across his side as if someone had injected molten metal into Shōto’s blood. Despite whatever heat his left might have given off, Izuku noticed all too quickly that the ice was creeping over the left side much faster than the right. For a moment it looked as if Shōto was going to call for help.

        Izuku stared in horror as the other boy was trapped completely in his own ice.

        Vaguely, Izuku was aware that he was diving into his classmate’s heart and slowly losing his grip on what was real and what wasn’t. The blizzard ate away at him as well, but that didn’t matter.

        What he found wasn’t exactly what he’d expected, but it was enough. Just as Izuku reached for the sound trapped deep in Shōto’s ice, he was forced back.

        Izuku blinked when Todoroki’s side sparked with fire back in reality.

        “What…” Todoroki croaked. Izuku frowned when he saw Todoroki reaching up to rub his neck, checking his skin for ice.

        For all the pressure on the shell, Izuku hadn’t broken through to him yet. A solid wall of ice remained between Todoroki and the rest of the world.

        So close to waking him up, but… Izuku grabbed Todoroki’s uniform and hauled the other boy up into the air. You’re going to fight me every step of the way, huh?

       “Come after me, Todoroki, and I will break you.” Izuku spat. Todoroki stared as Izuku shoved him backwards and turned on his heel. Seeing someone cry after a declaration like that would destroy what Izuku was going for, so he threw the door open and hurried down the hall. When the tears fell, he did his best to scrub them from his face.

        “Everyone’s coming for me today, huh?” Izuku muttered quietly to himself. He thought of the echoes in Todoroki’s song. All the rage he’d felt before burned even hotter, hot enough that Izuku turned and put his fist through one of the sign’s littering the hallways. Pulling his fist from the sign, Izuku took a deep breath. “Guess you’ll get your wish, All Might.”

         Tension simmered in the field beneath the stadium after Bakugo’s speech. Izuku wasn’t really surprised, but he didn’t appreciate having everyone’s eyes on him again. By the end of the day he’d probably pass out from the stress of having so many people stare at him. Letting the white-hot anger from his encounter with Todoroki flow through his body at least made him feel a little better. More than himself, though, he was worried about his classmates. Nerves and anxiety nearly drowned out the music of everyone around him.

        Quietly, he let his quirk flow out and pressed the edge until it covered the field and all the students. Making a scene wouldn’t do any good, he needed it to seem natural. All Might’s song was a good choice.

        A crowd moved towards the starting gate, and slowly Izuku felt sweat bead on his skin as One for All filtered through the throng of students. Silence moved over the crowd in chunks, as it tended to do with excited groups. Gradually, though, anxiety and sickly-sweet self-doubt were replaced by determination.

        Eyes turned towards the horizon, and the mountain that was first place.

        Number One.

        “Midoriya-kun, are you okay?” Uraraka frowned in his direction. Izuku kicked himself and forced a smile. Rage and nausea churned is gut, but Izuku could smile it away. Wasn’t that what heroes did?

        “Yeah, I’ll be fine Uraraka-san. Are you ready?” Izuku asked. She grinned and nodded as they took their places in the crowd. Her song was throwing out bubbles in swarms and lighting fireworks overhead.

        “OUR SCHOOL IS BUILT ON FREEDOM, YOU KNOW! AS LONG AS YOU STAY WITHIN THE COURSE, EVERYTHING IS FAIR GAME! RACERS, TO YOUR POSITIONS…”

        Izuku kept One for All flowing as they stepped up. All around them, people stared at the green lightning and the glow he gave off. Not a single one shied away or tried to move out of his way.

        Time to show the world I’m here… Izuku grinned and crouched, placing his hands on the dirt in front of him.

        When the bell rang, the crowd surged forward. Izuku paused, letting them fill the tunnel before him. One for All coursed through his limbs and he pushed it further, giving off a leap as he felt Todoroki reach the end of the tunnel. Using the walls of the tunnel, Izuku leapt up towards the ceiling and bounced from wall to wall as the ice flooded the ground behind Todoroki. Near the end, he leapt out and glanced down at the ground.

        Nearly everyone from 1-A had some sort of counter for Todoroki’s ice, but even the other classes passed the gate in a rush. Izuku hadn’t tuned any of them to each other, but he’d lit a fire in them. A crowd flooded out of the gates and onto the course.

        Izuku grinned as he tucked into a roll and rushed forward. Todoroki had a lead, and Bakugo was up there too, but Izuku…

        Izuku lurched forward with One for All in leaps and bounds.

        A yelp escaped him as Mineta got KO-ed by a robotic fist slamming into his cheek. Faux-villains from the exam flooded the way forward, blocking their progress.

        “EVERY OBSTACLE RACE NEEDS OBSTACLES, SO WE’RE STARTING WITH…” Izuku stared as the Zero-pointers lurched up and activated, staring down at Todoroki with red eyes. “ROBO INFERNO!”

        Cries of shock and indignation rose from the crowd behind Izuku, halting several of the regular students.

        Izuku grinned as he watched the hero course students charging through the gaps without a care in the world. While the robots fell, Bakugō Sero and Tokoyami rose over the heads of the rest. Several of the other bots were taken out mid-dash, because no one wanted to slow down.

        “Can’t let them show me up…!” Izuku leapt off a charging robot and bounced across the wreckage, using One for All to return to the head of the pack. Ahead, a chasm opened up, with several pillars connected by ropes spread across the gap. Bakugō and Todoroki had already made it to the first pillars, and the rest were quickly following. Jirou cried out as Izuku charged past her, planted a foot and leapt with all his might.

        He touched down on the far side at roughly the same time as Todoroki and Bakugō, which wasn’t surprising to him. For them, maybe. None of them paused as they charged forward, though Izuku’s jaw dropped when they reached the minefield. Present Mic was shouting again, but Izuku had done his best to tune it out. Todoroki and Bakugō were carefully running through the field, using his moment of shock to pass him up. When a few people passed by him, Izuku shook himself and groaned aloud.

        The mines, despite slowing everyone down, were obviously placed. Even if they hadn’t been, Izuku could feel them. Spots of fresh earth littered the mine field, humming with barely contained laughter.

        Izuku took a few deep breaths to get One for All back under control, only to be interrupted as a loud cartoon spring effect rang out across the field. For a moment, everyone paused and Izuku could hear them asking the same question. When the second and third came, each one giving off different sounds from cartoons (a ridiculous explosion sound effect and a laugh track, of all things), everyone seemed to work past it.

        “For the love of…” Izuku scrubbed his face with his hands and frowned at the nearest landmine, which was laughing (maybe not at him, but even if it was laughing at everyone and not specifically him, Izuku wanted nothing more than to rip it to pieces). When he swallowed the urge to jump on it and pray, he shut his eyes and rubbed his temples.

        “They’re not too powerful but they’ll probably hurt and I can’t avoid them all without the kind of high speed training that only experience with One for All would give me so there’s no way I’m making it across in time without doing something else, something that can get me over the field in record time…”

        He blinked when he thought of the landmine. When he looked up, his eyes caught sight of the one person who could help him.

        Shota’s eyes narrowed when the camera scrolled past Midoriya grabbing onto Yaoyorozu’s arm. After a few seconds of frantic chatter, the girl began using Creation on a rather large scale, making a pair of metal sheets, one of which was probably just large enough for two people to carry, or…

        Or for two people to stand on. A sled, built for two.

        What the hell, Midoriya. Shota prayed he wasn’t right. No one would possibly think of a plan like that. Bakugō and Todoroki were three fourths of the way across the field, but that wouldn’t matter. Yaoyorozu and Midoriya had taken to digging with a passion, and when they’d amassed a pile large enough to make Power Loader stand and shout something in the stands, people finally began picking up on what was going on.

“ IT SEEMS TWO OF OUR CONTESTANTS NEAR THE BACK HAVE DUG UP SOME MINES AND… Wait, those two are yours aren’t they, Eraserhead? What are they…?”

Shota was glad that no one else saw the amount of planning going into the event, considering the cameras had only captured a few clips of their preparations. Any more, and he’d need to have a serious talk with Midoriya about public opinion.

        An explosion shook the stadium, followed by a tower of pink smoke. Riding the cloud of pink powder was a metal sled with a wide eyed green boy and a tall socialite holding on for dear life.

        “THEY TOOK OFF! SOMEHOW THE STUDENTS OF 1-A HAVE BUILT A ROCKET OUT OF THE MINES AND TAKEN TO THE AIR!!”

        There wasn’t much of a plan for landing. With Yaoyorozu helping, he had more than enough mines to make it over the field, but Izuku didn’t even think he would get so far as digging up the mines. At the last second, he realized Yaoyorozu needed a landing pattern and he was the only one who could probably do something about it. One for All surged through him, pushing the limits of his control and singing through his veins as they rocketed across the sky. Before he could think about it, he scooped up his classmate and leapt off the sled, using it as a springboard and cancelling out some of their downward momentum.

        Landing hurt more than he’d expected. He was moving before the black cleared from his eyes. When he was entirely lucid again, he was racing through the tunnel, and Yaoyorozu was holding on for dear life. At the end, he set her down and gave her a shaky grin.

        “Thank you, Yaoyorozu-san. Um, if you want to go first?” The girl stared at him, shell shocked from everything that had happened. After a moment, he frowned and took her hand.

        Together, they crossed the line into the stadium.

        “THE FIRST ONES ACROSS THE FINISH LINE ARE MIDORIYA IZUKU AND YAOYOROZU MOMO!”

        Izuku fought to take deep breaths. Todoroki and Bakugō were coming up the tunnel behind him, both angry at losing first and second place from the sound of it. He spared them a glance and found Bakugō glaring at him.

        Nothing new about that, really. Izuku forced himself to smile, and Bakugō’s storm whipped itself into a frenzy.

        Todoroki had grown even colder than before, if that was possible. Izuku frowned when he met Todoroki’s gaze, but neither of them held the stare for very long.  Slowly, the other students passed through the gates and the crowd grew.

        Only forty passed, and Izuku was at the top.

        Forty pairs of eyes turned on Izuku when they announced the Cavalry Battle.

        “Oh, come on!” Izuku groaned in the wake of Midnight’s announcement. When he turned to look at everyone around him, he glared. “What are you, animals? Give a guy a minute to breathe!”

        Some of them backed up a bit. Most of 1-A had been expecting something like that, though, and were slowly getting used to his grouchiness. Even his classmates backed away as he started muttering about ‘people being out to get him’ and ‘make his life difficult’.

        Toshinori was proud when Midoriya crossed the finish line in first place. Before he could get lost in being proud Midnight announced the price of victory and Midoriya had looked up at him when the other students turned on the boy.

        So, you get it now, huh… Toshinori’s grin was strained, but it held firm. What it means to stand on the top.

        He was glad Midoriya didn’t seem to worship All Might the way some people did. Teaching lessons like this, lessons about how fickle the world could be, would have been a little bit harder than Toshinori preferred. Midoriya knew how the world worked. Some days Toshinori was worried that the boy knew all too well how the world worked… considering the boy’s original quirk.

        “Are you feeling better, Yagi-kun?”

        Toshinori nodded and rubbed the crusted blood from his cheek and chin.

        “Yes, Thirteen, I’m feeling fine. I was just a bit shocked at what Midoriya did there at the end…” Toshinori muttered. Something suspiciously similar to laughter rippled out of Thirteen’s suit.

        “Yes, coming up with a plan like that was a bit shocking. Midoriya-kun never ceases to surprise me.” A finger tapped against the visor. “Though watching him get through the obstacle course, I noticed he had some sort of physical boost… I really must ask him about his quirk sometime. I can’t make any sense of it.”

        “Something tells me he’ll keep making a show. I’m sure you’ll have a better idea by the end of the Festival.” Toshinori muttered, leaning back in his seat. On the ground, Midoriya was facing his friends… and watching them walk away.

        “It seems his classmates aren’t too keen on teaming up with him. The price of being a fledgling Number One.” Thirteen said solemnly.

        Young Uraraka and Young Iida were both his sparring partners… I’m not terribly surprised that they would all be rivals but this is a bit cold, isn’t it? Toshinori thought back to their first ten months together. For being a bright, sunny young man who wore his heart on his sleeve (at first glance, at least) Midoriya didn’t talk about friends much. Nor did he spend much time outside of the plan or studying…

        Watching the boy stand in the crowd, alone, Toshinori realized how odd their relationship was. As Midoriya’s trainer, he knew that Midoriya was feeling down, but not overly so. The stillness in the boy’s shoulders was an expression of confirmed fears or a missed shot in the dark.

        As a mentor, and a teacher? Toshinori had no idea what was going through the boy’s mind. He didn’t even know how much One for All the boy could channel, or how he’d trained that particular aspect of his power.

        “Yagi-san? You seem particularly interested in Midoriya-kun as well.” Thirteen called him out of his reverie.

        “Ah, well, he displayed a lot of power during our first exercise, though he broke his limbs… I’m a bit worried is all. Midoriya-kun doesn’t seem to know when to quit…” He managed, wiping a stray spurt of blood from his lip.

        “That is true. What is he like in the classroom? I heard he was quiet and looked to be struggling lately.” Snipe asked quietly.

        “AH, his grades are fine I believe…” Toshinori frowned. Midoriya was moving again, taking a pink haired girl along with him as he moved towards the gathered classmates. He’d only hesitated half a minute or so. If he was quick, he still had a chance to put a team together.

        Izuku wasn’t surprised that Iida and Uraraka wanted to take his headband. Both of them burned with a particularly fierce spirit, and being rivals suited him fine.

        He was fine with it. Really.

        Hatsume Mei was a bit… much. There was no regular tempo to her song, much like the ones from his nightmares, but instead of broken laughter Hatsume’s song churned with gears and sparking wires and explosions. Above everything else was a cool, fresh sound of awe that made him pine for the same kind of determination. Watching someone move towards the horizon without a care in the world was nice, if only he had the time.

        Asking Jirō was… awkward. But if he was going to get through the Cavalry battle in one piece he’d need to go all out. Jirō wouldn’t get out unscathed if he wasn’t careful. When he mentioned that she didn’t have to do much other than be the rider, she joined along easy enough.

        Tokoyami was on the outskirts of the event, and when Izuku asked he didn’t hesitate too long.

        Overall, they were... strong. Jirō didn’t have many offensive capabilities, and Hatsume was trying to outfit them with all the support gear she could, but hopefully they wouldn’t have to fight.

        “So, uh… you said I wouldn’t have to do much… How do you plan on doing that with the first-place ribbon on my head?” Jirō was trying really hard to keep her tone neutral. Izuku appreciated that. He took his place as the front horse and tried his best to get accustomed to the weight.

        “Simple,” Izuku grunted as the three of them worked out a middle ground. “We’re going to make sure they can’t come after us in the first place.”

        “And how will you do that Mr. Ten Million?! Flashy tactics?! I’ve got flash grenades here somewhere…!”

        “N-no! No, that’s fine. We aren’t going to need any of that.” Izuku coughed out. Hatsume didn’t seem too daunted, but Izuku felt a bit bad. She seemed to think that his team would be the center of the action. “I’m just going to use my quirk and ward them off.”

        “Ohoho! And how will you do that?” Hatsume laughed. Jirō tapped his shoulder with her foot.

        “Yeah Midoriya tell us. How exactly do you plan on keeping Bakugō and Todoroki off your ass?” She called down. Tokoyami muttered something from Izuku’s right. Izuku was glad he couldn’t hear whatever it was.

        “Just try not to fall off when it starts, Jirō-san.” The others got quiet when he said that. He grimaced and closed his eyes.

        Izuku was looking for a memory. Not even a year old, and yet difficult to pinpoint exactly. The part he needed was buried under the smell of smoke, a swampy song and the ever-familiar rage of Bakugō’s storm.

        Buried beneath all of that was All Might’s song, strained to the limits, spewing blood and groaning from the strain of holding his hero form to save Izuku and Bakugō. Picking All Might out of One for All was one thing, but the memory of that song was only an echo. Now, if he was right…

        I wonder how desperate he felt back then…? Izuku thought. He could hear the countdown starting now. Songs buzzed with frustration, curiosity, determination and doubt. Almost everyone was on a high note or swimming through a trough. Bakugō’s storm was contained and constantly spurring itself into a miniature hurricane. Todoroki was still frozen and howling like a blizzard, Iida’s engines were running hot, Uraraka was literally burning with determination, one of the class B students was planning something irritating and Mineta’s team sounded like a tribe of cannibals on the hunt. Desperation certainly gripped Izuku’s heart when he thought of all those songs coming for him.

        Izuku took a deep breath and let it out. With the exhale, he pushed his quirk to the limit and drew the stadium into his range. Having Jirō on his back made things difficult, but better than if he’d been facing her on the field. The truth was, he didn’t know how to use One for All at full power without catching Jirō in the music.

        He focused on pressing his quirk outwards and keeping his teammates safe. That was all that mattered. Souls tended to get through no matter what, anyways.

        Toshinori felt the air stand up on the back of his neck halfway through the count. Midoriya had been awfully still for the last few moments, which had him a bit worried. An odd sort of stillness had drawn over the crowd, muting the anticipation of the match. It was almost as if someone had drawn a hush over the stadium on purpose, but that…

        Well, that wasn’t impossible at all. Midoriya had done it before, during the ceremony, hadn’t he? A faint tugging sensation filled Toshinori’s gut and drew his eyes toward his protégé. Something was coming.

        Kyōka frowned and tightened her grip on Hatsume and Tokoyami. If her grip on the two of them hurt, they didn’t say anything. Being close to Midoriya when the boy used his quirk was always a bit odd, but her ears almost felt like they were stuffed with cotton. Even then, she could hear fairly well. The stadium had gone mostly quiet when Midoriya’s pressure fell over the field and stands. Only a whisper was left, and the static warning her of the boy beneath her feet.

        Part of her thought of that day in the classroom two weeks ago, when Midoriya had talked to Yaomomo. That song had made her want to dance and sing. It made her feel like she could dance and sing.

        Kyōka wished that the anxiety in her gut wasn’t telling her that this performance wouldn’t be so lighthearted.

        Shōto felt the hush crawling over his skin like heat haze. It was the kind of power that filled his house, telling everyone inside exactly where the dangerous one was at. Endeavor rarely took off all the fire, even at home. His kids had been using it to track him since birth. One of the few things Shōto had in common with his siblings.

        Even if the power wasn’t so oppressive as Endeavor’s, Shōto knew that there wasn’t that much difference. Power was power. Hadn’t his classmates back in junior high seen Shōto for what he was? Someone powerful enough to level their school with a sneeze.

        Someone to be feared.   

        Midoriya wasn’t someone to be feared. Shōto held the power, and he wouldn’t need even half to put an end to whatever the green haired menace had in store for them.

        A shudder ran down his spine. For a moment, ice crawled over his skin and threatened to encase him from head to toe.

        Protection. Shōto growled. The ice was protection. Whatever he’s doing, I need to be ready.

        The feeling never quite faded.

        “Fucking Deku.” Katsuki muttered. Shitty hair was frowning and looking around, which wasn’t good. People got confused when Deku used his quirk. Worst of all, they hesitated. “Oi, Shitty hair. Don’t get distracted. Focus on the ten million.”

        “Bakugō, you know what’s going on? Seems like everything went kinda stale or something.” Shitty hair called out. Katsuki slapped the idiot’s head.

        “Ignore it! Deku is just being a fucking creep, like always. We’re going for number one, got it!”

        Everyone seemed in gear. Raccoon Eyes was ready to go, with energy to spare. Soy Sauce would probably be ready, even if he was squirming like a little bitch.

        Deku had them all riled up now.

        Katsuki growled and let a series of firecrackers pop over his palms.

        Lightning cracked in the background, hardly contained within the storm but not free either. Overhead the sky churned and swirled towards the center of the hurricane. Katsuki surfed the waves of wind and clouds, grinning like a madman. There was something up even higher than the storm, almost on a level that was unattainable. Not just anyone could reach that spot, but Katsuki had seen it. A mountain rose in the distance, and a beacon glowed like a miniature golden sun from the top.

        Laughter cracked across the sky like lightning, laughter that wasn’t Katsuki’s. Katsuki grinned at the mountain, still impossibly high even from where the king of the storm rode the winds. Someday he’d reach the top.

        Slowly, the storm overtook the armies below.

        Katsuki almost felt bad.

        Hitoshi stared at the green haired boy from 1-A. One of the ones he hadn’t seen during his declaration of war had turned into the one to beat, somehow. Going after the ten million would be impossible for him, with only brainwashed students on his side. Maybe picking on the small fry would be a bit low, but Hitoshi couldn’t spare any advantage.

        Making the Hero course was more important than anything, even his dignity. Not his honor, but that would always be a difficult subject.

        The way people were staring at Mr. Ten Million, Hitoshi wondered if maybe they weren’t so different.

        But they were: one hero, one general student. Midoriya had already started his hero training. Hitoshi was desperate to be given a chance.

        Static crackled in his ears, making his headache worse than it already had been. Worse, the sound seemed to come from just about everywhere. Hitoshi groaned.

        Just can’t catch a break, huh…

        “3… 2… 1… START!”  

        Sunlight poured through his veins like a tsunami. It flowed out of his skin and washed over the field like wildfire, pushing the darkness from their hearts. There was no laughter in his voice, though he wanted to throw his head back and laugh. Overhead, a crisp blue sky sang and teased him, begging to be chased.

        The strings sang like a chorus instead of simple cords. Keystrokes fell so fast they may as well have been a waterfall, or the wind howling in his wake. Footsteps shook the ground like drumbeats, but he never once moved from his spot. Moving would break him. Sunlight and blood would spill, and his team would lose.

        NO.

        His team had put their faith in him. Letting them down wasn’t an option.

        Once upon a time, he’d stared up at the peak of All Might’s mountain and wondered, even if he’d never moved to walk the slope himself. Even if he’d never dared to even get close to that slope.

        All Might had shown him the way up, even if the way wasn’t easy. One for All sang with every step he took, filling him with molten metal and spring sunlight and the urge to sprint with the beat. Those footsteps weren’t his, but he knew them. His inheritance drew on that childish whim from so long ago, the feverish NEED to be a hero. With the power of One for All, a weight of countless people fell onto his shoulders and poured into him. Voices all singing the praises of heroes, crying at the beauty of the song. More and more voices were woven into the song each day.

        Someone sat stop his shoulders now, alongside the future of the world. They didn’t sing, but one day they would.

        For now, he had to show them the way forward.

        A new voice joined the choir, along with the humming of a bass guitar in a suspiciously familiar beat. Two others whispered in the choir, but neither of them was ready.

        “Tell the world I AM HERE!” All Might’s laughter boomed out from the top of the mountain, beckoning him. Beckoning them all.

        Midoriya Izuku grinned as sunlight poured out of his eyes. He couldn’t see, but the songs told him all he needed to know. For now, it was all he could do to hold the power at bay.

        One day, it would be his turn to stand on the mountain and taste the sun.

        For now, Midoriya Izuku would stand among them and show them what it was to aim for the top.

        When zero was called, Midoriya Izuku filled himself to the brim with One for All and held on for dear life. Nine colors flowed over his skin, breaking out in bolts of lightning that flew up into the sky and arced across the ground, never touching anyone but dancing too close for comfort. His eyes glowed like spotlights of green and black, drinking everyone and drowning them in music.

        God, the music.

        A wave of force spun together from hundreds of voices erupted from Midoriya. Laughter and solemn cheers dwarfed the roars that the crowd in the stadium had managed and then some. Woodwinds played at the edges like shadows, drinking in the light pouring off Midoriya’s skin but not quite able to sound cheerful. These were the voices who had been saved. No one avoided the melancholy whispers pulling at the heels of the song. A feverish joy ran through the voices, pulling at everyone in the stadium as if trying to drag them into a dance and twirl them around with glee.

        Midoriya Izuku smiled and dared his classmates to come for him.

        The storm faltered and howled as light erupted from the mountainside. When he surfed the edges of the vortex, Katsuki could see the bolts of multicolored lightning. Voices sang praises to whoever was climbing the mountain, but a single thought echoed in Katsuki’s mind as the storm dragged him back into the whirlpool.

        Where had they come from? Why hadn’t he seen them climbing the mountain, if they had power like that?

        Tenya had known, of course. Midoriya had used something similar at USJ, though none of them had the chance to really look and take notice. Facing Midoriya’s full power made the songs Tenya had heard before sound like barely practiced attempts at music. All across the field Tenya could see the affect. For nearly a minute after Midoriya’s opening move, no one even dared to breathe. On their shoulders Todoroki was shaking, staring wide eyed at the mass of light that was their classmate.

        A single glance at Midoriya made Tenya feel very small. Midoriya was looking down on them from somewhere, not underestimating them but inviting them to come for his points. Power flowed off of him in waves, pouring out of his eyes and skin and pushing his hair back from his eyes so that more people could drown in them.

        When Tenya looked into those eyes, he unconsciously reeled back. Midoriya looked like a man on the edge, ready to do anything. This was the boy who broke his arm and a building in the first week. Someone who’d fought of the villains at USJ without moving a muscle.

        What are we thinking, going up against that…? Challenging Midoriya made Tenya feel giddy and sick at the same time. For a moment he wondered how Todoroki felt seeing the strength of his ‘rival’, and then a coarse word from their leader spurred them on.

        People began to move, but no one dared move towards Midoriya.

        Kyōka felt like she was riding on top of a tsunami.

        Everyone on the field flinched with the initial outburst of song and wind but feeling Midoriya’s power from so close was like staring up at the curl of a wave and forgetting the raw power behind that simple act of nature. More than that, his power seemed to fall across his shoulders, and Kyōka was directly in the way. A waterfall fell over her head with the weight of a stone pillar and drowned her in the voices that made up Midoriya’s quirk. No one had any idea just how much power flowed into Midoriya, and just thinking about it made Kyōka feel very, very weak in comparison. Voices pulled at her and dragged her off of the field, spinning her around and dancing with her as they celebrated. She may as well have been on his shoulders or atop a mountain, there was no difference. If the weight of it all pressed in on her eyes and ears and shoulders enough to make her head ache, then Kyōka was too lost in the feeling to notice.

        She almost missed the quiet wail coming from deep within the song. As close as she was there was no avoiding taking the full brunt of Midoriya’s illusions. Focusing on the song caused everything to change so suddenly it gave her whiplash. One moment she was high on the choir and the crowd and the feel of the sun on her cheeks, the next she stood in a void, watching the crowd from the other side of a mirror. Midoriya was there too, staring at the light and the wind and the crowd with a mixed look of longing and acceptance on his face.

        It took a moment for Kyōka to realize that her friends, their classmates, and just about everyone from the stadium was slowly appearing among the voices in the song, and Midoriya only seemed to be drifting further and further away.

        She blinked and found herself riding the tsunami of voices again, staring out across the battlefield. The only thing remaining of the vision was the feeling of eyes on her back and a chasm between the two of them.

        Shota had felt Midoriya’s quirk first hand. Thirteen had told them about the light show the boy put on, leading up to his exhaustion in the USJ.

        He hadn’t expected it to be something like this.

        Even Mic was speechless at the display of raw power. Up in the commentator’s box, the breeze from Midoriya’s aura still reached them and managed to play with Shota’s hair. He didn’t blame the students when they turned away and charged after one another. Facing Midoriya would have been paramount to facing a pro, or worse.

        And yet, Midoriya was nowhere near as powerful as he looked. Shota could see him shaking from the booth. Nervous energy coursed through the air. That had happened during USJ, too. No one had been sure why Midoriya didn’t move when he was like that, because from the feel of things he’d have easily subdued just about anyone with his power.

        Why then did Midoriya look as if he were ready to crumble under the weight of his own quirk?

        With one minute left, Shōto finally turned towards Midoriya’s corner of the cavalry battle. Despite the flickering visions and the ferocity of the boy’s grin Shōto could see him failing. Sweat drenched his gym uniform and his body was trembling. Even his teammates seemed disoriented and exhausted from being too close to that strange quirk.

        “We’re going for Midoriya.” Shōto called. The others beneath him tensed.

        “Dude, are you serious? He looks ready to kill us! I get goosebumps just looking in that direction…” Kaminari whined. Shōto sighed.

        “Midoriya is wearing down. If we move now, we can knock him out of the tournament entirely, and then…”

        The wave of noise hit them strong enough that Tenya nearly backed up over them. Shōto looked up, trying to find Midoriya but suddenly he was back in the void, trapped in a blizzard that howled and ripped at his skin.

        “I warned you, Todoroki-san.” Shōto tried to turn around to find the voice and couldn’t. His body was frozen, physically trapped in place by the ice aggressively leaking out of his quirk. Even with the ever present burning in his left side, the ice leeched at his body enough that Shōto was worried he’d pass out and die there, alone in the snow.

        Shōto blinked and fell backwards.

        Yaoyorozu watched as a concert tuned their instruments, waiting for her command even as the music fell off of her pages. A faint smile tugged at her lips when she went to pick up the notes, though, and when she put them back it was a completely different tune.

        Kaminari ran through a hall of mirrors, never quite finding the way out. There was no rush, but a sense of urgency made Shōto want to claw at his eyes and run. He stared as Kaminari reached yet another dead end. A voice called out to the blonde, though, and drew him away from the mirrors. Laughter bubbled up from the maze, not cruel or harsh but playful. It pulled at the lump of ice in Shōto’s chest like only a friendly bout of laughter could. Very nearly like a hug, or a kind word, if only they could reach him.

        A car raced down an open stretch of coastal road, with Shōto in the back seat. The windows were down, blowing fresh sea air through the car, but the sun was warm enough to fight back most of the chill. In the front seat, Tenya drove… no, Tenya flickered. He and Midoriya seemed to switch back and forth, one in the driver side and one in the passenger side. When Tenya drove, they smiled and exchanged jokes, but Midoriya seemed grim as he gripped the steering wheel. People joined him in the backseat like ghosts flickering through photographs. Music came from the radio but Shōto couldn’t place the tune or the music at all. Suddenly, Midoriya was in the passenger seat, grinning back at Shōto and shooting glances at Tenya.

        “Iida-san is aggressive about the maintenance, but he’s the better driver, you know?” Shōto blinked, because (No, he didn’t know) something about the dream flickered and left Shōto in the passenger side as the car whipped around a turn. Iida suddenly grinned and took off, eyeing the horizon like a man chasing a dream. A pair of hands reached up and clapped them on the shoulders. “I’m a little surprised. This feels pretty easy huh Todoroki-san?”

        Shōto gasped for breath as Kaminari firmly pushed him back in to the rider position. A glance around the battlefield told him everything he needed to know.

        The illusion had lasted a bare second, even though he’d been trapped there for what felt like hours. Part of his chest ached, either from the cold of his ice or the warmth of those last words.

        Midoriya was watching them. Looking into his eyes was like throwing himself to the wolves, so Shōto let his focus go and frowned.

        He didn’t realize the time had passed until Midnight called time.

        His team hadn’t moved from their spot since moving to attack Midoriya in the first place, and forty-five seconds had passed. None of them remembered exactly what happened.

        The moment Jirō touched the ground, Izuku’s legs gave out. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, leaving him with a dried-out tongue and blurry, burning eyes.

        “Midoriya? You good?” Jirō asked quietly. Her voice sounded as shaky as his legs felt. After a moment Izuku forced himself to his feet and gave them a weak grin.

        “I’m f-fine Jirō-san. Sorry, using my quirk like that is hard on me.” No one seemed convinced, but they didn’t press any further. If anything, they all receded into themselves. Izuku was surprised to hear the songs of his team playing a bit louder than the others as everyone stepped towards the platform. Something quiet whispered in each of them, as if they were talking to themselves.

      “You know, usually people use lunch to rest or to, I don’t know, eat something and recharge?” Izuku frowned. Todoroki hadn’t said anything for a few minutes and staring at one another from across the shadows of an exit hall wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing to do. “If you’ve got something more to say, say it.”

        “This morning… Whatever you did with your quirk, you made me use my left side for a moment.” Todoroki intoned. “Then during the Cavalry battle, you did it again… and you stopped me from attacking you entirely.”

        Izuku narrowed his eyes.

        “Normally people don’t come asking for more when I do that.” He said carefully. Todoroki didn’t even blink.

        “Are you All Might’s child?”

        Izuku’s eyes widened till they bugged out of his face.

        “…huh?”

        “I asked…”

        “I heard you! What the hell kind of question is that?” Izuku scrubbed his face and scowled.

        “I feel the same kind of power coming from you. Considering how it feels when All Might’s around and when you’re using your quirk, I thought maybe All Might found someone with a powerful illusion quirk…”

        “I can promise you it’s not like that.” Izuku hissed. Todoroki didn’t look convinced. “All Might is a pillar of society. He’s someone people are inspired by, and the one who made me want to be a hero. Sorry if you got the wrong idea.”

        “…It’s not like that, huh…” Todoroki hummed. “Well, I know you’re hiding something at least. You know my father, right?”

        “What about him.” Izuku sighed.

        “If you’re connected to the number one hero, then it’s my job as the son of the number two hero to defeat you.” Todoroki glared at Izuku as he said it. After a moment, Izuku frowned.

        “…Sorry, but I’m confused.” Izuku caught Todoroki before he could continue his monologue. “I thought you hated Endeavor.”

        Todoroki’s glare turned icy.

        “What would you know about that,” He hissed. Izuku swallowed the bile in his throat.

        “I got that feeling this morning.” Was what Izuku finally went with. Todoroki’s glare didn’t lessen at all after his answer. “Look, don’t glare at me like I’m the only one not making sense.”

        “What do you…” Todoroki began to walk across the hall and stopped. After a deep breath, he continued, glare still intact. “Whatever you think you know, you wouldn’t understand any of it.”

        Izuku’s eyes widened and his smile peeled back until his cheeks were painfully tight. Todoroki’s glare fizzled out when Izuku chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

        “You’d be surprised, Todoroki-san. You were going to tell me anyways, right?” Izuku spat. After a moment Todoroki began his story, telling Izuku about quirk marriages and the ‘creation’ of Endeavor’s children. When Todoroki reached the end, Izuku’s anger had grown to something white hot and packed so tightly that it resembled a star roughly the size of a ballpoint pen.

        “…I’ll have denied him everything.” Todoroki finished with a hiss. When Izuku was sure that Todoroki wouldn’t continue, he took a breath and forced the star-spark of rage into the back of his mind.

        “Todoroki-san, would you like to know what my quirk is called?” Izuku said quietly. Todoroki’s eyebrows rose a bit. “My power… it’s called Soul Song.”

        Izuku took a breath. Rage blurred his vision for a moment before he got it under control.

        “It manifested when I was four, and no one believed me. It’s a mostly passive quirk, and no one wanted to believe a child who wanted a quirk so desperately he would lie, you know? My own mother called me a liar for two years. I learned how to show people by accident, when a bully beat me up on the playground one day.” Izuku shot a glance down the hall, where an all too familiar storm was quietly beginning to throw rain drops across the hallway. “With my quirk I can hear people’s souls. What they’ve been through and how they’re feeling. Most of the time it didn’t make any sense, but the more I learned about my quirk the more people I heard who needed help. People who couldn’t be helped, sometimes.”

        Are you a patient here, young man? If you’re hallucinating, we need to find a nurse and get your medication…

        Izuku’s expression twisted sourly when he remembered the hospital.

        “No one burned me Todoroki. My mother didn’t need to be sent to a hospital. Compared to your standards, I’m blessed, probably… I suppose most people would think that.” The words tasted like ash in Izuku’s mouth. “Let me be clear. Just because you told me your story, I’m not going to pity you or treat you like a martyr. Whatever is happening in your family is between you and them.”

        “I wasn’t asking…” Todoroki bristled, but Izuku crossed the gap and shoved himself up under the taller boy’s nose.

        “Yes you were.” Izuku spat. “We’re classmates, Todoroki. If you’d come to me and asked me to give it my all, maybe we could have been rivals. You’re being a dramatic, turning all this into a feud between the number one and number two heroes.”

        Izuku sparked to life. His quirk clawed at the shell of ice surrounding Todoroki’s soul, plunging them both into the blizzard that howled through the void whenever Todoroki was around.

        “Whatever you thought was going to happen here, I’ll tell you again Todoroki-san. Come after me and I will break you.” Izuku wanted nothing more than to throw the other boy up against the wall and tear at the shell with his quirk. Anyone who locked their soul up like that was in danger. People like that needed help. “I promised the person who gave me this chance that I would aim for the top. I keep my promises.”

        Maybe reminding him that Izuku had taken first place in both of the other events was petty. Izuku really didn’t care. He wanted to rest, not fight some stupid war that Endeavor had started up out of nowhere.

        Part of him wanted to punch Endeavor in the face, but that would be counterproductive. First, he had to hear the man’s song. Then he would judge. Before he left, he peeled his face back and smiled the most horrifying smile he could manage, holding himself eye to eye with the other boy.

        “Don’t lose to anyone else, Todoroki. Otherwise we’re going to have another one of these little talks, and I’ll be using my quirk for most of it.” For the tiniest moment, Todoroki’s eyes widened, and fear flitted across his features. Then the stoic, angry pre-teen was back and Izuku was very, very close to someone who could end his life with a swing of his hand. Before he lost the intimidation factor, Izuku spun and walked away. Mentally, he cursed himself for making things worse and not just shrugging Todoroki off in favor of a nap.

        A nest of chains slithered through the field. The rasp of metal links against grass and skin sounded as they moved amongst the crowd, waiting. Occasionally, one would rear up and croon, watching as people spoke. Whichever chain was close to the person speaking, most of the time. Sometimes more would rise, even get close enough to touch the speaker and whisper in their ear. Gentle things, almost like the beckoning of sleep that fought against a busy mind at the end of a long day. People twitched, forcing the chains back when they heard those foreign whispers, no matter how nice they sounded.

        Izuku stood in the middle of the crowd, dead in the center of the snakes. They crawled over his pants and shoes, ignoring the way he shivered and stared at them. As close as he was, the whispers never stopped.

        Once upon a time, a young Izuku had been afraid of snakes and spiders. He’d learned about bugs and things like that early, but something dark and terrible existed in spiders and snakes. Predators were like villains, in a way. Not exactly. But it wasn’t unnatural to be afraid of killers.

        Once upon a time, Izuku heard a strange song and went chasing after it. The hospital had been a strange place, all white and blue and smelling like medicines and disinfectant. Izuku didn’t understand the songs when he was young. He couldn’t know that some songs were like snakes and spiders, so he wandered through the spider’s web searching.

        Once upon a time, Izuku met a person like a spider. Exactly like a spider, and the spider smiled softly. Spider’s didn’t have songs, but people like spiders had songs like spider silk and snares made of smiles.

        The spider whispered like shards of glass and turned a hospital into a web.

        Chains slithered like snakes, strung from a shadowy purple spot in the sky. No light fell from that spot, and the boy beneath it was constantly staring at the light just beyond his reach. His snakes fell across his shoulders before they touched the ground and reached out for their prey.

        People said the boy sounded like a snake. It never mattered if the boy hated snakes and whispers.

        A chain slid up Izuku’s spine, cold as ice.

        “You’re Midoriya, right?” Izuku met the purple haired boy’s eye and nodded. The song had crept up on him when he’d gone looking for his opponent. He should have known better than to open himself up with people like Shinsō on the field.

        “Midoriya, don’t…” Izuku grabbed Ojiro’s tail before the boy could reach him and turned to nod, never taking his eyes off of Shinsō as the other boy walked away from them.

        “Sorry, Ojiro-san. He got you with his quirk, didn’t he?” Ojiro blinked, then nodded. A hand rubbed at the back of his neck and embarrassment rolled off him in waves.

        “Uh, yeah. I think it takes hold when you respond to him.” Ojiro said. “I… It didn’t feel right, moving on like that you know?”

        “Ojiro-san, you’re a good person.” Izuku smiled. “Sorry that you got caught up in that.”

        Ojiro faked a laugh.

        “Oh, it happens you know? I caught one of the recaps of the first event, and he had a bunch of people carrying him around. It really goes to show, you know? Even in the hero course,” Ojiro glanced after Shinsō. “There are people out there we aren’t going to be ready for.”

        Izuku sighed.

        “I was really hoping to take a nap, too…” He whined. Ojiro laughed.

        “You’re really not a morning person, huh?”

        “I can’t sleep before things like this.” Izuku hung his head miserably. “Then that thing with Todoroki happened, and it’s been one thing after another. I swear the hero course will kill me before any villain gets the chance.”

        “Really…?” Ojiro hummed. After a moment he clapped Izuku on the shoulder and the pair made their way out of the field. “Everyone thinks you’re the one who’s going to win, you know.”

        “Don’t remind me.” Izuku sighed. Ojiro just laughed.

        The time between the second event and the third passed all too quickly. Izuku crawled out of hiding when they called him and made his way down to the entrance. With the shadows of the hallway at his back, he couldn’t shake the feeling of something following him and whispering over his shoulder.

        “Hey!”

        Izuku shrieked and leapt into the air, spinning around with One for All racing across his muscles. All Might stood behind him, staring in shock and coughing. For half a second Izuku couldn’t shake the reddish tint or the strands of silk from the shadows.

        “All Might… S-sorry.” He whispered. One for All receded, and All Might hesitated before placing a gentle hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

        “Are you all right my boy? I didn’t think your quirk let people sneak up on you like that.” Worry creased All Might’s forehead. Izuku kicked himself.

        “I’m fine. Um, just… Not looking forward to this match.” He struggled to keep his voice even. All Might didn’t buy it.

        “Is there something about your opponent that sets you on edge, young Midoriya?”

        How would you like to throw yourself into a literal basket of snakes? Izuku thought.

        “Um… His quirk. I told you quirks are a part of someone’s song, right?” He flinched. Even back in the hospital, Izuku had never told anyone about the song. People had assumed he was hallucinating, being so jumpy and peeking around corners. All Might nodded, and Izuku fought to find the words. “…Some quirks… some types of quirks sound similar to one another. I’m not sure if it’s how people perceive them or the type of people that end up with that type, but… Shinsō, he’s got a brain washing quirk.”

        “I take it those all sound very similar to one another? Have you heard many before?” All Might nodded, keeping his eyes locked on Izuku.

        “Only one… or two, I mean. Only one or two.” Laughter bubbled up from Izuku’s chest hysterically. “But it, um, I don’t like the way they sound. And Shinsō, he…”

        “He’s not from the hero course. I’m sure that he’s feeling a bit of resentment towards you at the moment.” All Might nodded.

        Izuku blinked. All Might was smart, but sometimes the man was so far off the mark when it came to people. Why didn’t people ever realize that there was a flip side to that coin?

        “Yeah… something like that.” Izuku looked at the floor. “With One for All I can win quickly, but his quirk is going to make it really hard to stay in control.”

        All Might made a noise in his chest.

        “I don’t quite understand your quirk, but… how do you usually deal with people like Shinsō?”

        “I usually just cut them off or avoid them.” Izuku confessed. All Might shrugged and smiled.

        “I’m afraid I’m at a loss, then. People with powers like that always end up fighting on their own terms.” He claimed.

        “Fighting on their own terms, huh…” Izuku frowned. Shinsō didn’t seem like he wanted to fight at all.

        “Actually, you’re a bit like that too aren’t you young Midoriya?” All Might blinked as if he’d just struck mental gold. Izuku stared up at him curiously. “Whenever you tend to get into trouble, your quirk seems to throw everyone off and put you at an advantage.”

        “I… guess?” Izuku hummed. “I don’t think it’s exactly the same…”

        “Why not try letting your quirk do the talking?” All Might gripped his shoulder and smiled. “You’ve always done things your own way, using your power. If you can’t cut off his song, then just play something else.”

        Izuku really didn’t give All Might enough credit. Maybe he wasn’t the best with emotions, but the man picked up on more than Izuku realized he was letting on.

        “Play something else…” Izuku whispered quietly.

        All Might grinned.

        “Sorry for taking all the time you had, my boy. But it looks like I’ve given you something to think about.”

        “…Yeah. Thanks, All Might.” Izuku turned towards the exit, the crowd and the stadium. “Why’d it have to be snakes, though…”

        Bonfires roared at the four corners of the arena, casting shadows over Shinsō’s already grim expression. All around them the crowd roared with the start of the tournament. Midnight seemed right at home beneath all the eyes. Izuku wondered if he would ever feel so comfortable.

        Midnight didn’t have to listen to the souls frothing at the edges of the stadium, pouring over the barriers and washing down into the ring, drawn to Izuku by the quirk beating meekly in his chest.

        He didn’t realize he was actually standing in the ring until he heard the chains crawling around the concrete.

        It almost sounded like something alive and breathing.

        Something that wanted to eat Izuku alive.

        Instead of losing himself in Shinsō’s song, Izuku turned to the crowd. So many voices screaming at him. Too many eyes watching him.

        Tell the world I AM HERE!

        Lying, pretending to be brave and ready beneath the crowd’s eyes, was something that Izuku knew All Might would do. No, All Might had been doing this for years, he was comfortable under the crowd. A people person. Crowd pleaser. Showman.

        What was Izuku compared to that…?

        “HERE WE GOOOO! THE FIRST MATCH! OUR UNDERWHELMING POWERHOUSE, FROM HERO CLASS 1-A, MIDORIYA IZUKUUUUUUU! FACING HIM FOR THIS FIRST MATCH, A DARK HORSE FROM GENERAL STUDIES! SOMEONE JUST AS UNASSUMING! SHINSŌ HITOSHI!”

        A cry like a dying animal rose from the chains rattling in the arena and a wave of pure hate rolled through Shinsō, out over the ring and straight down Izuku’s throat. His stomach churned so badly that he was forced to the side to throw up while Mic continued the announcement.

        “THE RULES ARE SIMPLE! WIN BY KNOCKING OUT YOUR OPPONENT OR GETTING THEM OUT OF THE RING, OR JUST GETTING THEM TO GIVE UP! RECOVERY GIRL IS ON STANDBY SO GO CRAZY! FIGHT DIRTY! BRING THE PAIN!”

        I guess I owe Todoroki a thank you… Izuku stared at the pool of bile on the sideline and grimaced when he wondered what would have happened if he’d eaten lunch.

        “Midoriya, is something…” Midnight started towards him, drawing the attention of the snakes. Several lunged towards her, coiling around her feet.

        “N-no Sensei…!” Izuku called. Slowly, he made his way back into the ring. Wherever her stepped on a chain his foot passed through it, reminding him that none of it was real. Responding to Shinsō wouldn’t actually wrap him in chains and make him into a crude human marionette.

        It would only trap him in his own head and make him think he was a crude human marionette. Shinsō was a puppet master because Izuku’s quirk made it so. Why did the fight feel so backwards?

        Smoke poured from the spot in the sky and flowed down along the chains, lilac at the edges and blacker than midnight where it gathered and wrapped around Izuku’s legs. Chains rattled beneath the smoke, rearing up and crooning more now that Shinsō was talking to him, but the sounds of smoke and chains clogged his ears. A worn bow dragged across strings like a sigh, resigned to its age and the fate of its song. When the strings broke the bow scraped over the chains like skin against asphalt.

        Red light flowed through the windows of the hospital at impossibly low angles for the time of day. Thick strings of silk covered the corners and the lamps, dying the halls in uneven light and thick, bloody shadows. Something skittered through the hallways, growing louder as Izuku crept along.

        Flashes of red sunlight and crowded halls overlapped with thick purple smoke and whispering chains, flashing in and out of focus. Miserable laughter filled his ears no matter where he was, and the woodwinds rose as the predators drew in close. Pressure built in his shoulders until it seemed that someone was pressing a spike through the bunched-up skin at the base of his neck, feeding it around the sides of his head and into the space behind his eyes. Something screaming across the strings sent a spike of ice through his skull.

        Izuku blinked. Nothing had changed. He stood in front of Shinsō and a worried Midnight, beneath a roaring crowd and the eyes of a nation.

        A boy crept through the halls of the hospital, careful of the spiders skittering underfoot. They were only shadows, but the things they whispered made him wonder if they were part of it all: the red light, the silk covered corners, the odd shadows across the doctor’s faces.

        It only took a day to find the song he was looking for, but he’d never get the song out of the back of his mind. A spider had made a nest in the base of his skull, right beside his spine. They’d killed the spider for what he did, but the egg in the base of Izuku’s skull writhed with the spider’s children, threatening to break loose and spill shadowy critters across his mind until he lost what little sanity he had left.

        A deep breath scraped between his teeth and snapped him back to reality for a moment. He was drifting between seconds, caught by the song without ever having opened his mouth.

        Shins ō ’s mouth moved and smoke poured from his mouth as well. Glassy smoke that scraped against the chains like a strand of silver across worn, clunky metal links.

        The sound broke the spell long enough for Izuku to take another breath and steady himself. Before another illusion of the spiders took hold of him, Izuku latched onto the sound of Shinsō’s voice.

        He plunged even deeper, trying desperately to outrun the snakes and the spiders.

        Every note of Shinsō’s voice was damp and somber, cast in the gray light of a heavy rainstorm outside cold windows. Slow keystrokes resonated in dark oak wood, complimenting distant thunder. A plucky beat caught his ear, dragging him back to reality every time he tried slipping under the spell of the rain and the heavy keystrokes. Dim candlelight flickered through the song like fingers dancing across a guitar that Izuku couldn’t quite hear, casting heavy shadows over the purple haired boy sitting at the windows. When the boy turned and spoke smoky glass spilled from his lips and caught the candlelight like the strings of a harp. Ropes like silver linings rang as the caught one another and settled across Izuku’s shoulders, waiting to draw tight and pull him over to the table by the window.

        Izuku blinked. Drawing himself out of the song hidden beneath Shinsō’s scars left him feeling fuzzy. The chains were back, rattling at him, but it was all disjointed. Silver linings still covered is neck, rapidly fading from existence as Shinsō’s quirk ran out of holding power.

        He took a breath, and then another. When he’d pushed the sensations of spiders out of his mind, he blinked and looked at Shinsō for the first time.

        Shinsō stood covered in his own chains in a puddle of purple shadows. When he spoke, Izuku realized that the boy was deaf to the silver ropes and the sound of his voice dancing in the breeze like glass smoke. The music was stuttering, trapped beneath the weight of how Shinsō perceived his quirk.

        Was he always so… sad? Izuku frowned and watched a cloud of smoke spread out into a sheet of crystal shards and slowly broke into specks of light. When he realized why it was so familiar, Izuku wondered if he’d even be able to bridge the gap. Some songs were beyond even Izuku, no matter how long he spent trying to understand them.

        Sounds more like a sound tech, Jirō had said. All Might commanded people with his presence, but Izuku wasn’t like that. Maybe he’d never get to that point. He was too busy staring at the music.

        Why not try letting your quirk do the talking? Izuku frowned and glanced down at his hands.

        I should stop taking All Might so literally at some point. He pursed his lips and turned his eyes to the crowd. They were loud, too loud. For some reason, he was deaf to the way they screamed. Swimming through a sea of white noise did that sometimes. Being unable to hear them didn’t change the fact that they were loud, and the waves spilling into the ring were distracting. When he pressed his quirk out to the limit and blanketed the stadium, his song filtered the noise until a heavy silence replaced the soul static.

        Either his idea would work, or he would be left unconscious for the rest of the tournament.

        “I’m sorry,” Izuku wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say it. Maybe because Shinsō seemed desperate for his chance at winning. “I know how badly you want to win. But I don’t have time to let you knock me out of this tournament.”

        Beneath the song of the people in the stadium was a whisper. Feeling it out was hard, considering how playful it was. Normally, it only came to him when he wasn’t looking or when it was feeling particularly tricky. When he heard it, he let it drift unaware for a while. Shinsō was staring at him quietly. All of them were, actually. Maybe it was the odd hush that he’d forced over them, or the way he raised his hands into the air.

        The image of a suit, with a small baton and a podium, flashed through his mind. If it weren’t so embarrassing and definitely beyond his ability, he’d have been flattered.

        A breeze wrinkled into existence as he drew in the song he was looking for. He’d only grabbed a tiny fraction of the whole, which left him chasing glassy threads back to the actual song. Slowly the world began to move. Izuku shifted his feet as the weight on his shoulder steadily increased. Overhead, sheets of glass fractals bent and rippled as they moved through the sky. When he pulled them in, they spun and fell in a vortex of crystal clouds.

        There were no words that could truly describe the song of the sky. Izuku had spent a long time, time sitting in secluded corners and empty rooms, trying to put words to how odd it could be. With each passing moment the air changed from specks of colored glass and laughing clouds of crystal blankets into animals and the shapes of people reaching out to play with any under their reach. Voices filled the air, whispering and giggling and asking him riddles. For all the emptiness in the sky there was music there at the edge of his eyes, but he would probably never fully grasp it.

        such boring children… A voice whispered from his hair, tousling his curls a little too familiarly.

        When the glass finally touched down on his shoulders, Izuku’s muscles strained just to keep him standing. His heart burned as his blood turned to shards of crystal. Glass filled his lungs.

        Shinsō was saying something, but Izuku still couldn’t hear him. Instead of soul static or rattling chains, his ears were full of mischievous voices.

        you want us to play with that one? go on then!

        Izuku took a deep breath (the pain left him feeling higher than any workout with All Might ever had) and pulled the floor out from under Shinsō’s feet.

        Watching the wind pour over someone was almost like watching a stained glass window shatter into a million pieces and turn into blankets at the same time. Izuku struggled to stay standing. From his place in the middle of the stadium he watched the wind come alive. Empty air rippled like water and turned into clouds of glass. Some people started to notice the change. Midnight was staring at clouds of butterflies coming from her skin. Her quirk was a sleeping agent mist, Izuku thought idly. Seeing her react to the song wasn’t surprising if he took the time to think about it.

        Shinsō was stumbling up onto his feet, looking around the stadium in shock. His eyes met Izuku’s, but Izuku could only manage a raw grin. The purple haired boy scowled and managed a step before his eyes stretched wide and he fell back onto his hands. Izuku watched Shinsō’s face move, but yet again the words were lost on him.

        Whatever the song was doing to him, apparently it was doing far worse to Izuku. One for All flooded his body, taking some of the weight off his shoulders as the chorus started up. He managed a step without breaking, though his body was shaking with the effort. Shinsō was stumbling onto his feet, still staring. Izuku managed to make it halfway before Shinsō came to meet him, scowling as they forced themselves into the middle of the ring.

        The longer he held onto the song the more powerful the currents became. Izuku watched as huge clouds of rippling currents blew over the stadium, pulling at people and laughing when things went flying. Shinsō stumbled and Izuku noticed that even the idle winds in the stadium had started to come to life. Sunlight flashed a million different colors as it filtered through the winds over the stadium, and Izuku stood in an ocean of tiny shadows cast by his connection to the air overhead.

        “Shinsō is out of bounds! The winner is Midoriya!” Izuku blinked. Midnight’s call was the first thing he’d heard clearly in a while… or at least several minutes. The breeze he’d caught to bridge the gap fluttered out of his hands and the sky over the stadium exploded into a sea of crystal shards that fell like snow. Without the connection, Izuku’s body seized up and he collapsed onto the concrete. Shinsō was motionless. He stared up at the sky for a few moments, then down at Izuku.

        Izuku couldn’t tell what Shinsō was feeling, and he didn’t like that one bit. He couldn’t hear a single soul, actually. Deep in his chest, his song throbbed too weakly for comfort.

        “I… I’m sorry…” The words burned his throat, but he forced them out somehow. Shinsō didn’t respond. He simply stared as Izuku was taken by the medical bots and carted off to Recovery Girl.

        (rewind...)

        The green haired mess standing across from Hitoshi wasn’t what he had expected. Whatever power, illusion or not, that had kept Midoriya safe in the second round seemed to have disappeared entirely, leaving a nervous teenager who was completely ignoring his opponent in favor of looking up at the crowd and wringing his hands.

        “READY!! STAAAAAAART!”

        Hitoshi forced himself to smile, despite the inevitable.

        “You know, you’re not as scary as I expected you to…” Hitoshi watched as Midoriya threw up on the boundary. All around them the crowd began to quiet down to mutters. Midnight stepped towards him.

        “Midoriya-kun, is something…” She paused as Midoriya groaned and stood up.

        “N-no, Sensei.” He muttered. Hitoshi’s smile disappeared. Midoriya really didn’t look good.

        “Oi, Midoriya!” Hitoshi clicked his tongue as Midoriya’s mouth pressed into a thin line, but the boy looked up at him all the same. “You’re looking a little green.”

        He hesitated. Midoriya stared at him blankly.

        “Shit. Greener than… Aw, fuck it. Just give up if you’re not feeling well. I need this to be an undeniable win for me, if you don’t mind.”

        Midoriya stared at him blankly.  

        “Oi… Hey, you know this is a fight?!” Shinso spat. “Don’t think just because I’m a general studies student that…”

        Midoriya’s eyes turned to the crowd and the boy began muttering. After a few moments of muttering and tapping his lip in deep thought, Midoriya closed his eyes. His hands rose to shoulder level and hesitated, twitching slightly. Something in Hitoshi’s gut twitched, as if Midoriya had attached a wire to his stomach and tapped the other end. Weightlessness or vertigo took over and static bloomed at the edge of his hearing.

        “I’m sorry.” Midoriya called across the field. “I know how badly you want to win. But I don’t have time to let you knock me out of this tournament.”

        “That’s big talk for a kid who was so scared he threw up!” Hitoshi’s nails dug into his palms. Something clawed at his chest, either desperation or dread at facing whatever Midoriya was up to.

        For a moment, silence filled the arena again. Hitoshi blinked when a sound broke the quiet. A chime echoed through the stadium as if someone rang a bell. Slowly, something like music rose to fill the air. Gentle whispers floated in the breeze, tugging at Hitoshi as if fairies were trying to drag him off his feet and into the breeze. What started as a slight tugging grew to a violent lurch in his gut and a throbbing headache. Through blurry eyes, Hitoshi met Midoriya’s gaze. By the time he realized he couldn’t breathe, Hitoshi was already crumpling to his knees and gasping for breath.

        “What the hell…” His words sounded strange in his ears. They danced all around him, as if his voice decided to dance with the fairies in the breeze instead of reaching Midoriya. Something settled on his shoulders, pressing him to the ground. Off to the side Midnight stood staring at the air around them and the pink butterflies coming off her exposed skin.

        Midoriya’s hands fell. Sweat dripped down his face, but he was standing. Hitoshi stumbled to his feet. The weight and sound weren’t entirely gone, but he no longer held the sky on his shoulders. Whispers still drifted through his mind. Empty space felt solid as he tried to walk towards Midoriya, if only to get a single punch in.

        I need to show them… That I can be a someone! Hitoshi stumbled backward as something pushed against him and giggled. A chorus of bells rang out as wind picked up and twisted across the stadium. For a terrifying moment, Hitoshi watched it tear through the stands as a cloud of glass strings that sang and laughed with a life of their own.

        Hitoshi looked at Midoriya… and took a shaky step back. All around Midoriya strands of glass swirled and convulsed in crystal currents. Every sound was a wave in the ocean, each color was a beam of light passing through the inconceivably vast spread of drifting clouds. In the very center, a massive spire drained into Midoriya’s back like a whirlpool of crazed spirits. When Midoriya moved, the wind laughed at him and whispered feverishly.

        Pain stunned him out of his vision. Hitoshi had fallen to his knees, cracking them painfully against the concrete.

        “What are you…?” Hitoshi’s words fell from his lips like smoke.

        Midoriya bared his teeth in a smile as he walked across the ring, dripping sweat as he carried the weight of the sky. Hitoshi blinked and stumbled to his feet.

        “I… Won’t lose. I don’t know what you did, but I won’t let you stop me!”

        Midoriya never spoke. He charged across the ring with that shaky, venomous grin. Dodging his blows should have been easy but Hitoshi could barely stand. Every move felt like he was being pushed around by something (clouds of sparkling, laughing glass fairies), swaying beneath the weight of something (a glass tornado tearing and twisting as the sky collapsed onto Hitoshi’s soul) that he couldn’t see or understand. Whispers tickled his ears and bells chimed through the stadium as the wind danced with the spectators.

        “Shinsō is out of bounds! The winner is Midoriya!” Midnight’s call startled him. Hitoshi glanced at his feet and saw that he’d stepped out on that last dodge, barely putting a toe over the line but no doubt still out of the ring. On cue, the music faded from Hitoshi’s ears.

        Playing with you was fun… Your power is my child, so you are mine as well. Remember the song. Hitoshi winced as sweat fell in his eye. When he moved to wipe his eyes Midoriya collapsed, shaking and clutching at his chest. The music faded, leaving Midoriya free from whatever black magic he’d worked during their match.

        “I… I’m sorry…” Midoriya gasped.

        “Midoriya Izuku… Midoriya Izuku will continue to the second round! Everyone please prepare for the second match of the first round…!”

        Ochako sucked in a breath as she watched Midoriya throw up on the sidelines. Iida’s hands gripped his pants so tightly that nearly all of his hands were white with strain.

        “Uraraka-kun.”

        “It… It must be Shinsō’s quirk.” Ochako glanced towards Ojiro and met his eyes but didn’t say anything. Everyone had their eyes glued to the ring as Midoriya raised a hand toward Shinsō. A hiss of breath came from her right. Jirou’s eyes, as well as her smirk, were widening.

        “It’s starting.” She said. Ochako swallowed and turned back to the ring.

        Something in her gut loosened as if she’d activated her quirk. White noise bloomed into life just on the edge of her vision, then faded. All through the stadium whispers died, and true silence settled over the crowd.

        Ochako thought she’d gotten used to seeing Midoriya use his quirk. Sometimes, when they’d sparred over the past two weeks, she could hear the songs without him even trying, though she didn’t tell him. Midoriya would shut her off again. Using the songs made him stronger, so Ochako tried it too. Whenever they ate lunch, she could feel the bubbles in her laughter and see how people reacted. Remembering the chaos Midoriya had unleashed upon them terrified her and excited her all at once.

        Could I hear that and bear it? What would I learn if I tried? Ochako had never been a fan of math or reading. School wasn’t easy for her. Learning by doing was her strong suit, unlike Midoriya and Yaoyorozu and Bakugō. Some people have everything, after all.

        Not Midoriya. She had to remind herself of that.

        Ochako thought she understood his quirk, maybe a little bit.

        She’d been wrong.

        The sound filling the stadium was all bells and whispers and playful shivers across her arms. A breeze kicked up with the song, as if Midoriya was channeling the power of the earth through his quirk. Even if that was impossible Ochako had to wonder. She knew, at least, that he was focusing the sound on the ring. Shinsō was swaying, yelling something, but her ears were full of gentle laughter. Weight settled on her shoulders like a blanket, still cool from the air but warming as it wrapped around her.

        A hand snapped Ochako out of her trance. Jirō was staring at the ring with a grim expression and drifting through their class, shaking people out of their stupor. Throughout the stadium people stared at the air around them, exposed for the first time to the power of Midoriya’s quirk.

        “What… What the hell was that!” Kaminari croaked, reached for his throat as if his voice had disappeared. “What is he even doing?”

        “Shut up, dumbass.” Bakugō called out. His temper had been reigned in thoroughly since he’d taken second place in the second round. “You probably wouldn’t get it anyway.”

        “Bakugō, do you know?” Kirishima had to tear his eyes from the ring to look at the blonde. Bakugō never stopped watching their fight, even though most of the stadium had lost track. When the match was called, he glanced over at Ochako, Iida and Jirō.

        “Ask his fucking friends.” Bakugō growled. “I want nothing to do with his shit.”

        Ochako wished she knew. Really, she wanted nothing more than to understand what Midoriya had done. But it had been so different from her other experiences with his power… She frowned when Iida stood up, hands hanging limp at his sides as he stared down at the ring. Judging from his wide eyes…

        “Glasses gets it.” Bakugō muttered. No one commented on Present Mic’s commentary subdued on the match’s end.

        “Iida-kun, what did Midoriya-kun do?” Yaoyorozu asked weakly from her place at Jirou’s side.

        “I… can’t believe that I’m right.” Iida managed. His voice shifted from his usual all-business tone to one of insecurity. Ochako managed to drag Iida back to his chair, but his eyes never left Midoriya.

        “No one stands a fucking chance against that. What a waste of time.” Bakugō growled.

        “I don’t know how you’re doing this to yourself, honestly.” Izuku winced as Recovery Girl settled the IV in his arm. “Whatever your quirk is, it’s pushing yourself like this is going to leave you comatose before the end of the day.”

        All Might coughed, wincing as Recovery Girl glared in his direction.

        “And you. You told him something about declaring himself here, didn’t you? Honestly, you’re too reckless. You’ve only got one successor!”

        “It’s not his fault…” Izuku managed weakly. Recovery Girl raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I didn’t have many options. I haven’t used my power against a real person yet, and Shinso… I couldn’t get too close to him without doing something first. It was my idea.”

        “What exactly did you do, my boy? That was…” All Might’s mouth moved, but no words came out. The man sighed. “I have no words for what I felt.”

        “Oh… um.” Izuku winced as he pressed his fingers to the bloody tracks coming from his ears. “I may have gone a bit overboard. There, it felt like it was asking though, so… I channeled the sky with my quirk.”

        All Might sat down on the bench. Hard.

        “You… Did what now?” Recovery Girl muttered.

        “My quirk, it lets me hear songs from people, right? But, um, I call it Soul Song because it’s not just people. There are lots of things that have souls, I think. Like fire, or Kanji, or…” Izuku shrugged.

        “The sky…” All Might breathed. His eyes never left Izuku, though Izuku got the feeling they weren’t looking at him. “I never imagined that you could do such a thing, young Midoriya.”

        “I’m not sure I understand. All I heard was some whispering and some odd drafts. But whatever you did, no more of it understand? You’ve come close to rupturing your semicircular canals, besides exhausting your body and draining just about all of your stamina. You always have the oddest injuries I swear…” The old woman muttered the last bit, staring at the charts she’d taken from his examinations. Izuku fidgeted on the bed in the silence.

        “I… At least I’m not breaking bones? I mean, what if I’d broken some fingers using One for All or something…”

        “Don’t jinx it.” Recovery Girl snarled. Izuku clamped his hands over his mouth and squeaked. All Might coughed.

        “W-well… That was an incredible match, anyways young Midoriya. Captivating.”

        “I doubt anyone noticed the fight.” Izuku managed a weak smile. “I couldn’t control my quirk completely, and a lot leaked out. I’ll need to apologize…”

        All Might tapped him on the head and grinned.

        “I wouldn’t worry. You have a way of shaking things up, but I’ve never met anyone who was worse off after hearing your quirk young Midoriya.”

        Izuku tried his hardest to fight the tears, but a few slipped out. All Might chuckled and muttered something about his crying habits before heading back to the teacher’s box.

        Even from the nurse’s office, Izuku could feel something coming. Unlike when he’d taken control of his quirk in the stadium, a different sort of silence took over. People cheered, but it was muted. Izuku shivered in his cot.

        “Something the matter, dearie?” Recovery Girl chirped. Izuku frowned.

        “I… I think Sero-san is in trouble.” He muttered. Recovery Girl’s eyebrows rose.

        “Hmmm… Well, whatever happens…”

        Before she could finish her statement, the stadium shook beneath the force of Todoroki’s quirk. Izuku’s breath turned cloudy, and Recovery Girl shivered.

        For the first time since classes started, Izuku heard Todoroki’s song. It was the only song in the stadium, and it bled through the walls like the frost of his quirk.

        Izuku gripped his sheets in his hands until his knuckles cracked. Recovery Girl’s voice was long gone, replaced by the sound of a crying child and the taste of frozen blood.

        It was well after the ice cleared that Izuku was allowed back into the stands. He arrived in time to see Jirō giving up in her match against Ashido, which wasn’t terribly surprising. Jirō’s skills were more evident with her gear, but Ashido was a strong opponent for just about anyone.

        “I wonder if she’d care if I said I thought she did a good job…” He whispered. After some thought he shook his head and winced. “She’d probably hit me.”

        “Midoriya!” Izuku squeaked as Kirishima and Uraraka charged up the stairs to greet him. The redhead’s usual smile was absent, which was frightening enough without Uraraka bouncing up and down. “What the hell was that?! You keep doing crazy stuff, how is anyone supposed to compete…!”

        “Bakugō and Iida won’t tell us what you did, Midoriya-kun! What happened with Shinsō? Weren’t you sick, was that something about your quirk?!” Uraraka’s bubbles popped into more bubbles that popped obnoxiously.

        “I, uh, well, something like that, but I mean it’s really not that big of a deal, that was probably a one-time thing anyways…”

        “You think you can beat me without all your fancy tricks, Deku?” Bakugō growled. Izuku blinked and glanced down at the front row.

        Bakugō may as well have been steaming. Izuku hadn’t heard his song so furiously spun up in their entire life.

        “Bakugō, your classmate won his match! Be more supportive!” Iida barked. Some of the fire was missing though, Izuku thought. When Iida turned to extend a hand, Izuku could feel a torrent of mixed emotions running through his friend. “Well done, Midoriya!”

        “Oh, um… thanks, Iida-san.” Izuku shook the hand, though it felt a little bit colder than he’d like. Despite Todoroki’s absence from the box. Izuku latched onto that right away.

        Todoroki would be his next opponent.

        Suddenly his declarations from earlier felt so much more real.

        He shuffled into a seat, trying very hard not to get too caught up in reliving those angry discussions. Yaoyorozu and Tokoyami slipped off to their match, neither speaking to the others much. The box was full of idle chatter, some of it directed at him but not too much.

        “Yo, Midoriya.” Izuku stiffened when Jirō slumped into the row behind him and called him out. He forced a smile and did his best to look non-threatening.

        “H-hey Jirō-san…”

        “Good job winning your match.” Jirō smirked and flashed a thumbs-up. Relief flooded Izuku.

        “Thanks, Jirō-san. Sorry about your match.” He wrung his hands after saying it. Most people didn’t appreciate things like that so soon after…

        “Eh, it’s fine,” Jirō sighed, “Mina is really athletic, and my quirk isn’t suited for direct combat. Going any further would have been worse for me.”

        Izuku nodded. She knew what she was talking about. He decided to let it drop and focus on the ring. For a moment he remembered that he’d missed Iida’s match while he was on the IV, but the sounds of the fighters entering the ring stopped his brain cold.

        Both of them were much louder than normal. Too loud for people who weren’t in control of their songs.

        Slowly, he rose and headed for the railing, watching as his classmates faced off against one another. Yaoyorozu, for all the beauty of her opera, was quiet. There was no air of dread or severe self-doubt that might cause her to slip up, but instead there was... hesitation. Her song was resting, ready and waiting for her to begin the fight. On the other side of the ring, Tokoyami sounded like a very odd duet. A weary voice sang verses and paused to rest while the silence between was full of a haunting sort of chorus of voices. Winter wind through branches and warm full moonlight beneath a cloudy sky filled out the image of a man on a road through the woods, but there were parts missing. Fear chased the voice of the singer and chorus both, fear of one another and fear of the light, or the lack of it during the chorus.

        Neither fighter was ready. They were freshly aware of the music trickling out of their souls and fighting self-doubt. Izuku knew that but silencing their songs wouldn’t help.

        If he let them play, was that cheating?

        “ROUND SIX, YAOYOROZU AND TOKOYAMI! TWO OF CLASS 1-A’S POWERHOUSE STUDENTS! REAAAAAAAADY?! GOOOOOOOOO!”

        Yaoyorozu’s song began and Tokoyami’s… ended. Izuku blinked when he heard the changes: Yaoyorozu had stepped up and taken command of her power, changing her song from a pure opera to a band following a conductor, while Tokoyami had lost his voice almost entirely and given his song over to the chorus. Dark shadow flew across the field for a strong blow, howling very much like a demon on a moonless night to Izuku’s ears. Right before Yaoyorozu could be knocked out of the ring by the strong blows, her song started up in earnest. All pretense of being fragile or high class disappeared, directing her song in a chaotic whirl of music that was just starting to take shape. Her weapons were knocked aside but it didn’t matter. Something had changed for her.

        Smoke bombs popped from her arms, startling nearly everyone besides Izuku. Izuku gripped the rail till his knuckles were white.

        “Not a bad start. Come on, Yaoyorozu-san.” Izuku muttered quietly.

        Even if it’s like this, they’re both unsure. Music poured from Yaoyorozu more and more frantically, slipping occasionally but for the most part keeping up with the change of pace. Whatever motivated her was driving her to fight the best way she knew. Pages fluttering throughout her song crumpled together and muttered new ideas instead of simply falling and dying alone, as they had during her old song. Many songs, all led by one person, all slightly off key but learning.

And yet, she was surrounded by a chorus of darkness that crept towards the conductor with all the malice of a moonless night.

        “Isn’t it unfair to use your quirk?” Uraraka’s voice shocked him more than he liked to admit. Luckily, he was too focused on the upcoming fight to jump at the sudden question.

        “I’m not using it. They’re doing it themselves.” He managed. Despite his wish, the outcome was clear. Yaoyorozu wasn’t used to working out of reflex and fighting with tactics that came out of thin air. Tokoyami, however, was all too used to unleashing the quirk inside of him. Part of him was still just as shocked as Uraraka seemed to be. “All I did was let them hear the songs. I haven’t done anything to this match, Uraraka-san.”

        “Then… Anyone can do it?” She asked. Izuku frowned.

        “I don’t think anyone can. I’m not actively suppressing the music, though. Does that count as interfering?” He said.

        “I guess not.” Was all she said. Yaoyorozu was fighting with sheer willpower, now. Her song failed, and she kept on anyways, even knowing the inevitable. The change itself was still a bit shocking to Izuku. Souls changed with the person, of course, but hearing it happen so suddenly, to reach so deep into someone and draw out the fight that Yaoyorozu was suddenly displaying…

        “Midoriya? Could you do the same for my match?” Izuku blinked and turned to face Uraraka. The expression on her face said she hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but she wasn’t denying it either. Since she was asking, though, it felt a bit shameless. Almost as if he was cheating.

“…Sure, Uraraka-san.” He muttered. “I can’t…”

        “Oi, Deku!” Izuku wanted to groan. He wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but he had so much to do, and now Bakugō was getting involved? So early? Izuku turned to face the blonde and found his rival standing up, glaring down at him from two rows back. “Have you been using your quirk to help these extras?”

        White hot anger burned Izuku’s throat as he returned the glare. A rumble echoed deep in his soul, and Bakugō’s storm howled in response. Strings groaned aloud when the two songs rose against one another.

        “Of course not, Kacchan. That would be cheating.” Izuku bit back the rest. He didn’t trust himself to say anything, or to hold back when Bakugō went off and challenged him again. Everything with Todoroki, with Shinsō and All Might, had Izuku wound tighter than a cracking spring.

        He could actually feel his song straining just from holding himself in check, similar to the way Tokoyami had surrendered to Dark Shadow in the match a moment before.

        “Too damn bad!” Bakugo grinned and narrowed his eyes towards Izuku. “Give round face there a chance and use it for our match.”

        A chance…? Everything went red, then white and finally black. Izuku’s face flushed till he was sure he must have been steaming from the rage boiling his blood. Any trace of sunshine or light vanished from his song and was replaced with the desire to drown Bakugō’s storm in the sort of song’s they’d heard at USJ, or even the song of the Spider. The last thought struck Izuku so hard he forced himself to calm down, even if the rage was still simmering behind his eyes looking for an outlet.

        “…Are you alright with that, Uraraka-san?”

        “Y-yes…” The girl managed weakly. Izuku never took his eyes off Bakugō. When Uraraka confirmed it, Izuku grinned.

        “Don’t slack off just cause she’s a girl, Kacchan.”

        “Eat shit and die, Deku.” Bakugō snarled in response.

        The storm reeled itself in and began churning itself into a mass of fury that Izuku wanted to smash into a million pieces. Deep breaths barely calmed him enough to register that Uraraka was laughing.

        “You’re really good friends, aren’t you?” She grinned. Izuku blinked owlishly at her. Bakugo glared down at her for half a second before he exploded.

        “Like hell we are! I’m the only one here who stands a chance of beating his ass, that’s all it is! Get ready to die, Round Face!” He turned on his heel and stormed out, muttering under his breath. Izuku rolled his eyes.

        “I guess I’m coming down for your match, then.” He sighed and gripped the back of his neck. “I’m not getting a break at all today.”

        “Cheer up Midoriya! You’ll get a front row seat to watch me kick Bakugo into the sky.” Izuku managed a weak grin as she pressed a fist into her open hand. Her song was straining, but there was something deep in her soul that made her seem more like Tokoyami than any of the more bubbly songs Izuku was used to hearing from her.

        Whatever was hiding, Izuku had a feeling that the next match would be a hell of a lot harder than Bakugō thought it would be. Or maybe… it would go up in smoke, no matter what he did.

        He hadn’t been able to help Yaoyorozu, had he?

        Keep moving. You’ve gotta help yourself, even if no one manages to get up and get moving right now. Izuku kicked himself. The hallways beneath the stadium were suddenly very, very dark.

        (let's rewind... just once more)

        “ROUND SIX, YAOYOROZU AND TOKOYAMI! TWO OF CLASS 1-A’S POWERHOUSE STUDENTS! REAAAAAAAADY?! GOOOOOOOOO!”

        Momo wasn’t sure how to feel about her match. Tokoyami was powerful, but she hadn’t seen much of Dark Shadow. Facing the other boy in the ring made it all so much more… real. A crowd roared, but the blood in her ears and the thundering in her chest was so much louder.

        Can I really do this…?

Midnight called the match, and Dark Shadow charged Momo outright. The staff fell from her hands as her small shield too the brunt of the blow. Another was forming on her arm, but Dark Shadow’s claws pressed her back.

        “I wonder why Midoriya bothered coming to talk to me in the first place…” Momo muttered. Kyoka sighed from Momo’s left.

        “He’s just… I don’t know. I guess he can’t help it. Nothing about him makes any sense.” The punk girl sighed. “He’s nice one minute and pissy the next. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was two different people with two different quirks.”

        “I don’t think that’s possible…” Momo giggled behind her hand. Something about the look Midoriya wore at the end, as he left, didn’t sit well with her. “He said… that I should turn to my friends. What did he mean…?”

        “Don’t even try that, Yaomomo.” Kyoka grabbed onto Momo’s bag and stopped them. Despite the difference in height, Kyoka was obviously the one in control of the situation. “You know what he meant. I heard it too, you know. And… You heard mine.”

        Kyoka blushed, and Momo was reminded of just how shy the shorter girl actually was.

        “L-look, I’m just saying. You’re incredible. Everyone feels unsure of themselves. Hell, you saw Midoriya before he used his quirk just now,” Kyoka frowned, “so don’t try running away from your anxieties. Talk to me about this stuff, or Midoriya or anyone.”

        Momo felt something tighten around her heart. In all her life, there had never been something that leapt up so suddenly. She’d always been above and beyond her classmates, but… behind, too. Never beside them. Yaoyorozu had always stuck out of the crowd, and Momo was always watching herself from a distance. Even if it wasn’t all the time, she couldn’t deny those feelings.

        “Is it really okay… to burden someone else like that?” She asked quietly. Her hand settled over her breasts, right over her heart. Whatever gripped her chest was tightening and making it hard to breathe.

        “Isn’t that what friends are for?” Kyoka continued to stare up at her. “Trust me, Yaomomo. You’re crazy strong. Plus, if anyone tried to screw with you, I’d step in and kill them for you, okay?”

        “I, that’s a bit much isn’t it…?” Momo giggled. Kyoka grinned, hefting her schoolbag over one shoulder.

        “Hey, I’m not as bad as Bakugo.”

        Momo laughed aloud at that. Whatever gripped her heart shattered, and relief flooded through her veins.

        “I suppose not.”

        Momo’s foot slammed into the ground hard enough that she felt it in her teeth, but she didn’t fall backward. Something rang with the impact, resonating through the arena and filling the air with an odd sort of tension. As if the world was holding its breath. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow retreated to hover close to its master.

        A series of taps clicked, and rustling.

        Momo took a deep breath, staring at the pair across the ring.

        Strings rose first, and bells. Books took flight, flying off the shelves as the conductor flourished the baton.

        “TOKOYAMI STARTS THINGS OFF WITH A SHOW OF BRUTE FORCE, AIMING TO KNOCK YAOYOROZU OUT OF THE RING BEFORE SHE HAS A CHANCE TO FIGHT BACK!”

        Really, she didn’t have a plan. Tokoyami was stronger than her with Dark Shadow, and she couldn’t think straight. All she could do was to try her best.

        A deep string drew breath over the hall as the bells and violins rested. Drums thundered to life when the strings rose again. On the podium, the conductor’s free hand began moving with a purpose and the wand drew patterns of light in the air. Keystrokes began to take over, lacing the others together. None of them played the same song, but none of them missed a beat.

        Smoke bombs popped from her arms and smashed against the concrete. Momo charged into the smoke, pulling a long, more solid metal staff from her palm and crouching in the fog.

        “ SMOKE COVERS THE BATTLEFIELD! IS YAOYOROZU BUYING TIME?! WHAT COULD SHE BE PLANNING?!”

        A beast growled in the dark, moving with slow, sure steps. It hovered just out of sight, behind her shoulder, and yet the breath of it was hot and wet against her neck. Below, the instruments began coming to life. Brass hummed and woods began to breathe. Cracks sounded from several of the instruments, and pages fluttered from the books overhead. Sounds of something skittering in the dark surrounded her orchestra, forcing them to play even faster. Missed notes made her flinch, but still her hands moved with desperate energy to direct them.

        Dark Shadow came through the smoke like a missile, flying over her shoulder with a barely missed attack. Momo grunted with the force of the blow and charged forward, even though she knew it wasn’t the best move. Another pair of smoke bombs popped underfoot, and Tokoyami took off running this time. Several swipes from Dark Shadow dispersed the smoke. From the middle of the ring, Momo had an easier time deflecting the attacks but-

        She screamed in frustration as the orchestra began to fail. No matter how fast she moved, the enemy breathed down her neck and pressed ever closer to her back. Missed notes gave it time to take steps. Ripped pages made it hard for her to see, but the knowledge she needed was just out of her reach. Almost on the tip of her tongue, barely slipping beneath her fingertips and drifting out of reach.

        The beast didn’t falter, and neither did the boy chained to the monster’s neck.

        Momo slipped and fell.

        Momo fell beneath the last blow, grunting with the effort of holding Dark Shadow off but her staff wasn’t enough. Her shoes slid backward, and she felt herself pass out of the ring, somehow. She fell to her knees and gasped for breath. Dark Shadow fell back to Tokoyami’s side.

        Suddenly, Momo felt as though Tokoyami stood a little taller than she remembered. He walked across the ring and extended a hand.

        “I wasn’t sure we could win for a little while. You were a marvelous opponent.” Tokoyami said. Momo blinked and used her staff, as well as his hand, to stand up properly.

        “You were a difficult opponent as well. Thank you for a good match.” Momo managed. Tokoyami’s eyes told her there was more. She felt it, too. All around them, the world hummed, ignoring the two of them as they tried to make sense of their match.

        Ochako wasn’t sure how to feel when Tenya’s match finished. Ashido and Aoyama’s match was easily settled, even if it was long. Despite the pit of impending doom in her stomach, Ochako didn’t feel hopeless. Bakugo would be one to beat. Having that chance… She wasn’t getting much screen time, but did that really matter?

        Yaoyorozu was stepping into the ring, and Midoriya stood up to grip the rails. Ochako cocked her head to the side and watched the match begin. Tokoyami threw a powerful shot at Yaoyorozu, who was still forming her weapon and shield. Just as it seemed the girl would be knocked out, something changed.

        Ochako’s breath caught in her throat as Yaoyorozu caught herself. Suddenly several things were popping out of her arms, and Tokoyami was stepping back. Bursts of smoke covered the field, masking everyone’s vision.

        “Not a bad start. Come on, Yaoyorozu-san.” Midoriya was muttered again. Ochako frowned and went to join him at the rail.

        “Isn’t it unfair to use your quirk?” Midoriya didn’t take his eyes off the ring.

        “I’m not using it. They’re doing it themselves.” He breathed. After a moment, he glanced at her and noticed her obvious confusion. “All I did was let them hear the songs. I haven’t done anything to this match, Uraraka-san.”

        “Then… Anyone can do it?” She asked. Midoriya frowned. On the platform, Yaoyorozu was using a staff to parry and dodge blows from Dark Shadow.

        “I don’t think anyone can. I’m not actively suppressing the music, though.” Midoriya shrugged. “Does that count as interfering?”

        “I guess not.” Ochako smiled. How… Midoriya-like.

        “Midoriya? Could you do the same for my match?” She said it before she realized what she was really asking. Taking on Bakugo was going to be a seriously tough match. Having Midoriya there… maybe that would make it easier. Midoriya, for his part, turned to look at her for the first time since the second round. Was he always so… exhausted?

        “…Sure, Uraraka-san.” He muttered. “I can’t…”

        “Oi, Deku!” Ochako nearly leapt out of her skin. Bakugo was standing up, two rows behind them. The entire class (Iida had just arrived, so Yaoyorozu and Tokoyami were the only ones not there to see) was staring at the three of them now. “Have you been using your quirk to help these extras?”

        Midoriya looked up at the blonde with a firm frown on his lips. Nothing about his expression changed, but the air around them- specifically between them, two of the strongest students in their year- was full of malice that clung to Ochako’s skin like fine April mist. A deep bass note hummed, charging the air even further.

        “Of course not, Kacchan. That would be cheating.” Midoriya said.

        Oh. Ochako blinked and took a step back. He’s… really angry.

        “Too damn bad!” Bakugo grinned, apparently pleased at Midoriya’s reaction. “Give round face there a chance and use it for our match.”

        Ochako shuddered. Part of her registered that he’d just insulted her, but he insulted everyone. It was in his nature. She’d bring him down a few pegs eventually or die trying. Bakugo wasn’t the one who made her shiver.

        Midoriya was pissed.

        “…Are you alright with that, Uraraka-san?” Midoriya said quietly. He never turned from Bakugo’s glare. She managed a shaky yes, and suddenly Midoriya was baring his teeth in a very Bakugo-esque smile. “Don’t slack off just cause she’s a girl, Kacchan.”

        “Eat shit and die, Deku.” Had Bakugo’s eyes always been the color of blood? Ochako’s jaw dropped as she watched their exchange. They looked ready to kill one another.

        No. Ochako blinked at the sudden thought. He was there too.

        A faint memory of Bakugo, standing at Midoriya’s shoulder as Midoriya faced down the storm, flitted through her mind. She didn’t even realize she was laughing till she was slapping her hands over her mouth.

        “You’re really good friends, aren’t you?” She grinned. Midoriya blinked owlishly at her. Bakugo glared down at her for half a second before he exploded.

        “Like hell we are! I’m the only one here who stands a chance of beating his ass, that’s all it is! Get ready to die, Round Face!” He turned on his heel and stormed out, muttering under his breath.

Ochako’s blood raced a little bit faster. Midoriya rolled his eyes.

“I guess I’m coming down for your match, then.” He sighed and gripped the back of his neck. “I’m not getting a break at all today.”

“Cheer up Midoriya! You’ll get a front row seat to watch me kick Bakugo into the sky.” Ochako pressed a fist into her palm, trying hard to sound confident. Midoriya managed a weak grin as they headed out of the box, but he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t really need to, Ochako realized. With her heart racing like this, and a desperate urge to pound Bakugo’s face into the concrete for being a complete asshole, she had everything she needed. Now she just needed some theme music.

        “Um, Midnight sensei…?” The heroine cocked an eyebrow at Izuku and Uraraka. Instead of scolding them (really what wouldn’t she let into one of these matches?) she grinned.

        “Another request? What do you need, Midoriya-kun?” Midnight called. Izuku glanced towards the other side of the ring, where Bakugo was stretching and taking the final moments to collect himself.

        “Uraraka-san and Ka… Bakugo-san,” Three pairs of eyebrows rose when he corrected himself, “are requesting that I use my quirk for their fight. It’s not a physical boost for anyone else, so we were wondering…”

        “I see. Both contestants agree?” Midnight grinned when Uraraka and Bakugo both nodded to confirm his statement. “All right! We’ll allow it, as long as it leads to a good fight! No favoritism, Midoriya-kun!”

        “I doubt I could do that even if I tried…” Izuku groaned. He knew he could, but it wasn’t a matter of being able.

        No one was so dense that they would throw themselves on national television just to help someone cheat, right?

        Cementoss made him a chair, which surprised him (he’d forgotten the cement hero was still watching the matches), only to be turned down. Izuku stood beside Midnight, watching his friend and his… rival (?) take their positions on either side of the ring.

        I can’t let them down. Not now. Izuku took a deep breath, exhaled and lifted his hands. Even if it wasn’t necessary, it filled out the image he held in his mind. A memory of All Might shouting something about ‘SENSATION’ made him sputter and force his concentration back into place.

        On the podium, Izuku’s hands rose into the air beside Midnight’s whip and the world held its breath as his quirk pressed out to the limits yet again. All noise throughout the stadium, even the crackling of the bonfires, either muted or died entirely beneath the weight of Izuku’s soul.

        Midnight and Present Mic both paused when they felt Izuku’s quirk take over. Just long enough for Izuku to reach out and draw Uraraka’s and Bakugo’s songs out of their shells.

        Thunder echoed through the stadium, resonating deep in the bones of everyone watching. Raindrops began to fall, popping bubbles and hissing into steam as the flames burst to life. A warning and a response... maybe even a challenge.

        “ALL RIGHT! THE FINAL MATCH OF THE FIRST ROUND! FAMOUS SINCE HIS MIDDLE SCHOOL DAYS, WITH A FACE ONLY A MOTHER COULD LOVE, BAKUGŌ KATSUKI OF OUR HERO COURSE! VERSUS! MY PERSONAL PICK FOR THIS ROUND, URARAKA OCHAKO, ANOTHER HERO COURSE STUDENT!”

        “Oi, Round Face. You’re the floaty girl, right? This is your last chance. Even Deku won’t step in if the round starts.” Izuku glanced at Uraraka. Something deep in her soul lurched and began waking up. He closed his eyes, listening carefully to the songs and ensuring that they weren’t drowning anyone in the audience with noise.

        “Round F…! Look here, this is between me…”

        “START!”

        “…and you!” Uraraka darted forward, body held low with hands ready.

        A guttural roar overtook the howling winds of Bakugō’s hurricane. Uraraka’s bubbles had disappeared, replaced by a beast made of smoke and fire. Drums reverberated so harshly that it made Izuku’s jaw rattle, but they couldn’t overshadow any part of her music. Nothing could overshadow any part of the raw intensity that was packed into the music. Strings howled and ground against one another as the beast charged, growing bigger and bigger with each moment the storm held back.

        Light and smoke tore through the illusion as Bakugō’s Explosion laid into Uraraka’s charge. Even hidden in the smokescreen after a direct hit, Uraraka didn’t let up. No one in the stadium dared to think he was going overboard. For everyone in the audience, Uraraka’s desperation to win drew across the nerves with a whine and poured nervous energy through the crowd.

        Rain and Lightning poured over the beast, dampening the smoke and the beat of Uraraka’s drums. There was no chance of the songs playing a duet. Both were trying to drown the other out by beating it into submission with raw force. Diminished, but not out, a brassy clamor echoed when Uraraka charged in again.

        Bakugō’s hurricane sped up, beating down relentlessly despite the stutter in the face of Uraraka’s charge.

        Motion in the smoke drew Bakugō’s second strike.

        Strings hummed with victory and smoke…

        His third struck Uraraka dead in the chest as she leapt for his exposed back.

        …and fell. Only the drums beat constantly, driving forward no matter how many blows landed or how relentlessly the storm beat down on her shoulders. Everything and anything rose to meet the drums, seeking any sort of salvation.

        Harp strings played softly over the lightning, thunder and rain of Bakugō’s storm.  

        Respect, for raw determination if nothing else.

        Even without opening his eyes, Izuku could feel it. Uraraka was beat down again and again beneath the explosions but she never, ever slowed down.

        When the cymbals crashed again, Izuku couldn’t help but grin.

        The wind hesitated for a moment in the face of the beast. A roar of victory echoed beneath the clouds, filtering up through the thunder and reaching the boy surfing atop the clouds.

        “Thanks, Bakugō.” Uraraka took a deep breath, obviously fighting off the fatigue of taking so much raw damage. “For taking this seriously… and not dropping your guard…”

        Flame engulfed the storm as the bubbles tore apart, releasing gouts of flame into the clouds and breaking the entire storm to pieces for a single brief moment.

        Bakugō turned his eyes to the air, watching as the projectiles fell towards him. He heard her charging forward, ready to grab him as he went to dodge. Izuku turned his face to the ground and screwed his eyes shut so tightly it burned.

        Light broke through the smoke and flame in the wake of a single massive bolt of lightning. No wind howled or beat against the waning form of the beast. Smoke cleared from her form, leaving only a broken girl standing beneath a gathering storm and the boy who surfed atop the clouds

        Uraraka collapsed as the shadows and the smoke left her, unable to continue. No one dared breathe as the match was called. Some were torn between staring at the ring, and the desire to look up at the sky in search of the clouds, or perhaps the shape of Bakugō standing high above them.

        Izuku followed the bots to Recovery Girl’s office and left her there, heading for the ready rooms before his match.Halfway there, he found a song he hadn’t even thought to look for.

        Endeavor was a man that fit the definition of hulking better than anyone Izuku had ever seen up close. All Might was tall and ridiculously buff, yes, but Endeavor was a squat, square jawed man who seemed equally muscular in a smaller frame (considering the latent network of power that was One for All, Izuku wondered which one was actually stronger without quirks). Flames danced across the man’s shoulders, chest, waist and face in a constant display of power.

        Ironically, the man’s eyes were as cold as his son’s despite all the fire.

        Running into the number two hero should have been something that Izuku was excited for. Getting to see Hellflame up close and noting the little things, like the low temperature of the flame, should have been an incredible resource.

        The moment the pair locked eyes, Izuku reached out and pulled.

        Endeavor’s song beat like a relentless marching tune. Wisps of sunshine and laughter trailed through the song in reverse. Izuku would recognize All Might’s song anywhere, but what shocked him was how… empty the song was. There was only that furious beat, nothing more. Somewhere deep, deep within Endeavor’s forge-like chest was a shadow of a song, something high class and wispy played across a harp and flute in a spring morning.

        “There you are.” With a moment to breathe, Izuku felt his hatred evaporate. He noticed the little things that he’d missed a moment before and noted them quietly. The pair locked eyes, but neither glared. Endeavor looked down at him as Endeavor looked down at just about anyone. Number two, as it turned out, only had eyes for one person and one title. “I’ve seen your quirk. Honestly, it’s all very flashy and strong, but you don’t seem to be that much of a threat. Creating those illusions of yours may be enough against others, but Shōto is my boy. He was trained to defeat All Might one day. I thought perhaps you should know that losing here isn’t truly a problem, it’s a matter of fact. You’ve done well, I’m sure you’ll receive recommendations and offers from several heroes.”  

        Any other day, Izuku might have taken those words well. From anyone else, Izuku may have understood the intent.

        Maybe it was because of who, and when, he heard those words from that it was so utterly infuriating.

        “You’re saying I’ve already lost?” Izuku’s voice echoed quietly, sounding very alien in his ears. One for All crackled violently beneath his skin. Endeavor didn’t even blink.

        “You’ve got poor luck boy. Put up a good show, though. Seeing someone break through your illusions may make you even more popular in the end.” The words weren’t intended to be considerate or hurtful. Endeavor really didn’t see him as anything more than a showman with an illusion quirk.

        All the rage that had built up over the day flushed through his veins like molten lava. Izuku blacked out.

        Enji felt the boy’s quirk loosen and disappear. He thought that he must have said the right thing (really, Enji had expected more anger when the boy was faced with the truth of his situation) when the air began to move. A breath on his cheeks turned to a breeze turned to a gale that filled the hallway harshly enough to douse his moustache. The wind filled (Midori-something or another)’s uniform and gusted through his hair.

        It was a sound tactic. For a moment, the boy looked more substantial in the bulging uniform and his hair became a nest of black and green weeds that almost seemed to lash out at Enji.

        A glow suffused the boy’s skin as his quirk took hold. Enji had to admit that trying to bluff the Number Two Hero was a bit more than he’d expected from the pitiful looking student from a moment ago. But the wind grew even more harsh with each passing second, the boy’s glow turned from a low gleam to a shine that hurt Enji’s eyes. Bolts of lightning in different colors flooded from the boy’s arms and hair as the light changed colors (shimmering ruby and sapphire and sunrise orange and spring-growth green and midday sunshine and glittering emerald) danced over the boy’s skin and over the walls.

        The show was surprising and more than Enji had ever expected of an illusion quirk, but it showed why the other students had been afraid of facing him. Anyone, any fledgling student, walking headfirst into a lightning infused gale would need courage far above their station.  But Enji hadn’t been calling the boy pitiful or small to be rude (for someone like him, the Number Two Hero, to be rude would mean someone deserved his ire) considering that Enji couldn’t see the boy’s downcast eyes across the short distance between them. Really, if the boy never hit a growth spurt…

        Something sharp scraped down his spine. Endeavor’s eyes widened, though he didn’t blink. Illusions were only as powerful as a person allowed them to be. Despite knowing that, he felt a chill in the air. He pursed his lips, ready to ask his question, when his vision blurred and the boy in front of him turned to a silhouette.

        Music. Was that music? Could violin and piano and drum sound like a voice or laughter or determination? White light filled his eyes until his vision turned completely black, dropping him into a sea of chords and emotions that tore him apart. Enji tumbled through vision after vision after vision, desperately trying to escape.

        He watched a boy turn from a child to a young man, running from the way people looked at him and talked about him. Bruises and burns stung Enji’s skin in all the same places. An ache filled his chest when the boy cried at night and his eyes burned when the boy so adamantly refused to cry. Nothing was given to the boy other than hardship and dismissal, so much that each step became the last in a bone-tired marathon.

        For a sweet moment, the noise disappeared entirely. Enji took a breath and nearly screamed when he realized he couldn’t hear it within the void. A low, drawn out string began a song in the depths of the emptiness. Hands carefully picked out each note, letting them play nearly to their fullest before the next washed over him. Keystrokes pulsed cool ripples through his aching muscles. Each slow pull across the strings played with the flames sputtering across his face. Drums rumbled in the back, insistent but never overwhelming. Pain broke notes before they’d fully played out and left short stutters in the first draw across the strings. Never once, though, was the song playing by itself. Others played louder, drifting in and out of the void with varying volumes. Some left marks or new notes. Woodwinds and windchimes joined the song eventually, almost like life lessons.

        Claws scratched at Enji’s chest and tore him open, tearing…

        A man stood at the bottom of a mountain. His place should have been the top, for any normal man. Those beneath him looked up and saw him there and failed, whispering crude things out of jealousy. Even standing on top of the mountain, he was the only one who knew the truth. One look up at the next step told him everything he needed to know.

        He’d climbed the mountain and found himself standing on a shelf far beneath the summit.

        Freezing winds tore at his tired form, clawing at his eyes and sapping the heat from his body. Somewhere deep, he’d found a fire that would never go out, but it felt useless now. Even his flame, the power that saw him so far, was useless in the face of such impossible odds. The man had used everything to get to the top (a dream of a melody played through his ears, but the once beautiful tune was cold and broken now, for all that he still loved the sound) and now he could only stare at the mountain. Warm light poured from the summit, just like the man who’d managed to reach the top. How long had it been since he’d felt any sort of warmth up close? Not the warmth of his power, but the warmth of another person.

        Somewhere along the way, he’d lost pieces of himself. The mountain turned to a mirror, showing a ragged man with a single shredded leg and a skeletal arm hanging from his opposite side. Where had he torn them away? How far had he thrown them?

        Booming laughter rolled down the hill, and Todoroki Enji wept.

        Enji would never know why the man at the top laughed like that. No one would ever look at him the way they looked at the man on top of the mountain. His word was as useless as the man himself.

        As suddenly as it had come, the storm died. Enji found himself looking into a pair of dim green eyes rimmed by dark circles. The pair of them blinked, and Enji found himself standing several feet away from where he’d been a moment ago.

        Neither of them said anything. The boy blinked owlishly and ran a hand over his face before walking past Endeavor towards the exit. For several minutes after the boy left, Endeavor stared at the empty hallway in front of him.

        He’d backed away from a high school freshman.  

        Izuku wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Whatever Endeavor had said, between the man and his son and Bakugō, Izuku had lost control. For a few minutes, he’d been lost in his rage and his quirk had… unlocked itself. He wasn’t angry anymore, or not the same way he had been angry a few minutes ago.

        How could he be, in the face of a song like that? Todoroki Enji was a broken man. People like that weren’t worth the hate.

        Thinking of Endeavor made Izuku think of Todoroki Shōto. His classmate, his opponent… His problem. Someone who could very well end up like his father.

        The sound of his knuckles cracking reached him long before the pain of clenching his fist so too tight. It occurred to him that that was a bad thing, but he didn’t have time. Even if he was exhausted or drained from whatever had happened with Endeavor, the thought of abandoning someone else to that sort of fate made Izuku sick to his stomach.

        So Izuku forced himself off the floor of the hallway and walked out into the stadium and did his best to lost himself in the chaotic ocean of souls surrounding him.

Chapter Text

           The crowd was quiet when Shōto walked out onto the field.

        Midoriya was late walking out. He entered the ring staring at nothing, in the middle of an empty stadium. Shōto felt a shiver run up his spine when he took his place across from the glassy-eyed boy.

        “Midoriya-kun.” Midoriya blinked when Midnight called out to him, then nodded at the unanswered question.

        “All right. Ready…!”

        Shōto pulled his right hand back, letting the chill gather in his palm. Midoriya began to glow.

        “Begin!”

        Ice erupted across the ring and was shattered in a massive blast wave. Glowing didn’t even begin to describe it: Midoriya was covered in multicolored lightning and shimmering with light in all different colors. His eyes gleamed like emerald spotlights.

        “MIDORIYA BROKE THROUGH! HE’S SHATTERED TODOROKI’S LARGEST ATTACK!”

        “I told you… Todoroki,” Midoriya rasped, still holding his broken finger out from the flick. Shōto gaped at the boy when he realized what Midoriya had done, “I’ll break you!”

        “With an injury like that…”

        The world began to hum.

        “You will surpass All Might!” Todoroki Enji, the Flame Hero: Endeavor, stood behind Shōto and rested a hand on Shōto’s right shoulder. “My greatest creation…!”

        “He looks so much like that man…” Todoroki Rei, Shōto’s mother, cried out from the blizzard that howled around them. “I can’t stand it… I’m afraid…!”

        Shōto felt his left side burning. The coals of his father’s power were trapped in the ice his mother had given him. Between the two powers, his skin cracked and broke and fell into the snow, coating the knee-deep drifts with a spray of blood.

        Midoriya stood atop the snowdrift looking down at him. Light shone from his skin, nearly too much for Shōto to see through. Behind Midoriya…

        “No!” Shōto screamed, drawing all the ice he could from his right side and gathering it in a single, massive well of cold. For the first time in his life, trying to use his right side hurt. It burned, dragging across his nerves like frozen claws and biting at his arm. Across the ring Midoriya took a step towards him, teeth bared, wide eyes flashing with erratic pulses of green light and some furious well of determination. His lightning was only green and barely flickering now, but the memory alone was enough.

        Shōto was afraid.

        The glacier came from his foot, shaking the entire stadium with the force of its formation, and Midoriya shattered another finger to break through. Chunks of ice flew through the air towards Shōto as the air pressure forced him back. He flinched as a large piece struck his cheek and left him bleeding.

        “HE SMASHED IT AGAIN! AM I SEEING THIS RIGHT?! MIDORIYA SEEMS TO BE BREAKING HIS FINGERS…!”

        “His power is unstable when he uses it at its fullest. Midoriya seems to understand that facing someone like Todoroki has risks. Limiting his power won’t work against a force of nature.” Eraserhead muttered over the mic.

        Midoriya took another step, and this time Shōto felt the weightlessness from earlier that morning take hold of him.

        The world disappeared entirely, and Shōto was falling. In a void, without sight or touch or anything to stand on, Shōto tried to scream and failed because of the ice coating his tongue.

        You need to wake up, Todoroki-san! Midoriya’s voice came from somewhere in the void. At this rate, you won’t be able to save anyone!

        “I don’t wanna be a hero that hurts mommy… I hate him…”

        “But you want to be a hero, don’t you?”

        Shōto was tired of burning. His body was icing over, peeling his skin and setting his nerves aflame despite the ice surrounding his left side. The burn creeping up his throat and pouring from his eyes was even worse.

        Midoriya hoisted Shōto into the air, despite his broken fingers. Shōto blinked, suddenly surrounded by a silent stadium and an angry green haired boy who was more terrifying than Endeavor could ever be.

        “If you think you can be a hero with a soul covered in ice, you shouldn’t be here!” Midoriya screamed. Shōto flinched as he was forced eye to eye with his opponent. “You think everyone will respect you for only using half your power? For only living out of spite?”

        Shōto’s eyes widened.

        “It’s your power, Todoroki! If you want to feel like that again…”

        “…You want to be a hero, right?” Shōto grinned when All Might entered the television screen. His mother combed her fingers through her head, smiling down at him (even if Shōto couldn’t see it, he could feel it radiating from her). “That’s fine. You’re not bound by his blood. You decide what kind of hero you want to be.”

        “…Then break yourself out of that damn cage!”

        Shōto blinked. The ice crept over him, clawing to overtake his skin as the blizzard howled across the snowdrifts.

        Midoriya was there, though. Not standing apart and watching with fearful eyes. Shōto watched as his opponent clawed at the ice surrounding his body, despite his broken fingers. Chunks of ice fell and more grew to replace it. Finally, Midoriya stepped back and screamed in frustration.

        All Might appeared behind Midoriya, beaming and throwing light across the snow. Shōto knew, on some level, that it was just an illusion from Midoriya’s power but the sight of the giant standing right there, staring into Shōto’s soul, made him flinch back. Midoriya grabbed his shirt and hauled him forward, despite the ice.

        Through the ice.

        “Give me everything you’ve got, you son of a…!” Midoriya screamed.

        Shōto’s side erupted into flame.

        Midoriya stumbled back, grinning like a fool. Shōto couldn’t help but smile too.

        “You’re crazy, you know that…?” Shōto laughed.

        “Maybe,” Midoriya laughed. The light bleeding through his skin grew until Shōto had to squint, “But if that’s what it takes to get to the top…!”

        “You won’t make it there. Not…” Shōto blinked as Midoriya disappeared and blurred to a stop right in front of him. A fist slammed into Shōto’s stomach, knocking the wind from him and sending him flying out of the ring.

        “Sorry, Todoroki!” Shōto stared at the green haired boy in shock. Midoriya’s grin was the very definition of shit eating, so much so that it reminded Shōto of his brother Natsu. “I didn’t hear that last bit. Did you say I wouldn’t make it?”

        “WHAT A MATCH! WHAT AN INCREDIBLE MATCH! MIDORIYA IZUKU MOVES ON TO THE THIRD ROUND AFTER KNOCKING TODOROKI OUT OF THE RING IN A SUDDEN DISPLAY OF SPEED! DID ANYONE SEE THAT COMING?! TODOROKI SURE DIDN’T!”

        Shōto’s eyes widened as Midoriya began to shine. At full power, Midoriya threw off bolts of lightning that touched the grass at the base of the ring. A corona of colors surrounded his skin and shimmered. When Midoriya smiled, Shōto felt the tugging sensation in his chest, but this wasn’t Midoriya’s quirk. The shadow of All Might stood there, and Midoriya stood atop the pillar All Might had built.

        This time, Shōto wasn’t afraid.

        “Need some help?” Shōto blinked as Midoriya reached out a hand to help him up. Had he been that distracted, that he missed his classmate coming down the steps? A breeze reminded Shōto of his exposed left side, and he suddenly felt very conscious of his body.

        All around them, the crowd screamed at the top of their lungs. Had they been doing that the entire time, or…?

        Shōto took Midoriya’s hand and frowned when the other boy dragged him up. How was Midoriya shorter than him half the time?

        “You should know,” Midoriya put a hand on his shoulder and led him towards the exit. “I’m sorry for being so rude, Todoroki-san. I was just worried.”

        “You’re apologizing to me?” Shōto sighed.

“Um… Yes? I really don’t like fighting people… And I said some really personal things…” Midoriya laughed nervously.

        Endeavor stared down at them as they entered the stadium halls. Conflict warred on his face, and Shōto was surprised to see his father’s eyes focus on Midoriya.

        “You’re bleeding boy. You should get to Recovery Girl.” The hero stated. Midoriya cocked his head to the side.

        “You’re on fire sir. Must be hard to hug your kids like that.” Shōto couldn’t snap his head to the side fast enough to avoid seeing the look of shock on Endeavor’s face, and Midoriya just looked like Midoriya always looked: tired and too innocent to be so goddamn powerful. “From what I’ve seen, it’s been a while since you tried that.”

        Shōto’s jaw dropped. Endeavor stared.

        How did Midoriya always seem so damn tall?

        “Todoroki-san. I’ll see you in the nurse’s office in a few minutes, okay?” The green haired boy muttered. Both Todoroki’s stared at his back as he shuffled off, acting as if he hadn’t just broken two fingers and set his classmate on fire.

        “Shōto.” Endeavor’s voice was too level to be angry. Shōto wasn’t entirely certain what to think when he met his father’s eyes. First of all, when was the last time he called Endeavor his father? Second… when was the last time he’d spoken to his father as a whole person?

        Was he even a whole person yet?

        “I may have used your power, but it doesn’t change anything.” Is all Shōto can say. Endeavor narrowed his eyes and let a harsh breath out his nose, flaring the flames of his mustache.

        “…When you’re done being a petulant child, you know where to find me.” Shōto slipped past the man and wandered after Midoriya. Endeavor’s voice followed him down the hallway. “Avoid that boy, Shōto. You’re going to be greater than he ever will! Those brats aren’t worth your time…!”

        Something is wrong with him. Kyōka frowned as Midoriya walked into the ring. He looked lifeless. Worse, everything was… staticky. The stadium held its breath as the pair faced off, and instead of the noise quieting, the world simply continued to hum. Midoriya wasn’t taking control like he had before.

        Ice burst from Todoroki’s foot and speared towards Midoriya. A gust of wind and rainbow hued light shattered the glacier just as quickly. Kyōka winced when she saw Midoriya’s finger spatter blood on the concrete. Light and lightning poured out of Midoriya’s skin as if he’d turned himself into a lightbulb. Unlike before, there was no music. Just a thunder and crash of shattering ice and bone.

        The apparition behind Midoriya flickered in and out, but Kyōka’s throat closed up when she saw it clearly. All Might towered over Midoriya. Even from across the stadium, Kyōka could see the eyes, glowing like stars and staring straight at Todoroki.

        Her heartbeat thundered in her chest like the tick of a clock. Kyōka frowned, tensed up in her chair. For a brief moment she realized that time had seemed to slow down. Watching her classmates fight lasted a lifetime, but each match had only lasted around five minutes (that crazy support kid made it hard to remember). She drank in the sight as the static disappeared, and the world flickered in and out.

        Midoriya and Todoroki weren’t on the battlefield. Not really. Using Midoriya’s quirk had taken them somewhere else, somewhere Kyōka couldn’t see . Something tugged in her chest, as if Midoriya was pulling her heartstrings. Breathing was hard for a minute. Goosebumps erupted over her skin when she heard shreds of what was happening elsewhere . As if the sounds themselves were frozen.

        Feeling it drove home what Midoriya had said about ‘emotions.’ A whisper of a sobbing child burned her eyes.

        On the field, Midoriya had dimmed, racing across the field with two broken fingers to pick Todoroki up by the shirt.

        The crowd was screaming.  Kyōka couldn’t hear any of it.

        “If you think you can be a hero with a soul covered in ice, you shouldn’t be here!” Midoriya screamed. “You think everyone will respect you for only using half your power? For only living out of spite?”

        Kyōka doubted anyone really heard it, but it could be felt. The sensation washed over her, and the rest of the crowd seemed to react by cheering louder. Everyone knew something was happening, but they were wrapped up in the fight, the battle between ‘the Musical Illusion’ and ‘the son of Endeavor’.

        Her chest tightened and her eyes burned. It infuriated her that she didn’t know why. A hand slipped into hers, Momo’s if she had to guess, and they shared a moment as they watched Midoriya and Todoroki stare one another down.

        Everyone in the stadium paused when something shattered. A single second in the tournament, a moment no one would really remember and a noise that didn’t come from anything they could see. Kyōka’s jaw dropped when Todoroki exploded into flames a moment later.

        Before she could stop herself, they were on their feet. Everyone was on their feet, staring in awe as Midoriya began to glow in earnest and Todoroki poured flames off his left side. A cheer filled the stadium as they got ready…

        Todoroki hitting the sidelines broke the spell. Kyōka stared at the ring blinking, wondering when she’d jumped up to cheer with everyone else. Hardly anyone paused to wonder what had happened, the fact that Midoriya had beaten Todoroki kept them screaming. Mic announced the verdict and the pair wandered off into the tunnels.

        “That was less messy than I imagined it would be.” Momo said quietly.

        Kyōka snorted, “As if. I bet they’re both a mess. Midoriya doesn’t fight hand to hand, you know.”

        “I guess not.” Momo giggled.

        Izuku sank into the void. He remembered the battle with Todoroki, both the fight against his quirk and the fight against the boy. Pain existed, but he was keenly aware that it wasn’t just his fingers. Everything hurt. Recovery Girl had smacked him on the head and yelled about forgetting jokes after you told them, not following through. Then…

        Then she dropped him off a cliff. Music swam through his brain. Every song he’d ever passed on the street. Each song he’d watched for a few minutes, learning the way they rose and fell and how they echoed inside the hollows of someone’s chest. Pieces fit themselves into other, more intimately familiar songs without a care for whether they belonged. Some songs had shattered entirely and reformed themselves into different pictures.

        None of it touched him, though. He wasn’t swimming in the ocean, he was falling through it. At the bottom, there was nothing but emptiness, and the vague echoes of memories and shadows.

        Once, when he was young, Inko took Izuku to a therapist who could convince him that he didn’t have a quirk. That woman had looked at him and smiled. She said he was a unique little boy, that she was happy to meet him. Her song rippled and danced like a ballerina, but Izuku knew one thing. In fact, the first thing he’d learned from listening to people with his quirk. A distinct sound of water spilling out of a glass, or the way their soul scraped against ribs when they heard something they didn’t like.

        “How would you describe the music?” She asked. Izuku frowned and looked at the blocks in his hands. That wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that question, but it was the one he remembered. He remembered it because it was the first time that he realized he couldn’t describe it and the first time he realized no one actually wanted to know in the first place.

        “You don’t like me, do you?” Izuku whispered. The woman’s smile had weakened, and they’d talked about bullying after that. She never denied it, and she never told him otherwise.

        They never talked about his ‘quirk’ again. She’d taken his words as a confession.

        Izuku was painfully aware of his song. Beneath every other song was one so familiar he had to look for it carefully. Compared to everyone else he’d ever heard, his was the quietest. People thought he was plain looking and didn’t like it when he spoke, so people stopped looking. Still, it hummed quietly. Everyone had a song, after all.

        ‘Izuku’s’ song was never constant. Every single day it changed, though the changes were subtle. When he was ten, he’d spent three months recording every change in his notebook, but none of it really made sense. His observations hadn’t been about music, so he talked about other things. One day, his mother looked over his journal and asked about it, but she didn’t quite understand how the different sounds could actually be sounds. After that he didn’t bother worrying about his song anymore.

        One for All was there, now. It overshadowed his song with sparks of color, shining in a bright zig-zagging constellation. The stars of light sang with their own individual songs, but they were all similar. No, it was better to say that the stars all played the same song different ways.

        Confidence, strength, the desire to save people… all infected with that odd static that Izuku still barely recognized but couldn’t place.

        All Might’s sang the loudest, of course. Each one was louder and louder than the previous one, which made sense. But for the first time, Izuku turned away from One for All and dug into the void, listening for the familiar tune that he’d spent his entire life creating.

        What he heard, instead, was the steady hum of One for All and the echoes of the songs he remembered. ‘Izuku’ didn’t exist within the void where All for One resided.

        Izuku sat up, blinking slowly. He felt rested, but still ached all over. Todoroki was gone, and a trace of melted ice remained on the floor along the path he’d taken. Something on his right buzzed to life as Recovery Girl turned in her chair. A cloud of sunset colored glass shards danced and laughed over her shoulder, mimicking her actions. Over her shoulder, a greenish outline of a cat stretched and turned its eyes towards him.

        “Ah, I’m fine, thanks for asking…” Izuku trailed off and rubbed a hand across his lip. Something about his voice sounded fuzzy, or watery. For some reason, dead flower petals went tumbling down his chest. “Was Todoroki-san okay?”

        Recovery Girl froze, staring at him with wide eyes. The cat rippled as it began to purr even more than before. Instead of an answer, Izuku watched a curtain of wind tumble into the room, over the other bed and across his shoulders. Reflections of his classmates and others in the stadium blurred through his mind.

        “Well, that’s good I guess…”

        Rubber bands rippled over his skin and down Recovery Girl’s spine, pulling at the hair on his arms till it was almost painful. A garbled response caught his ear. He heard words, but the Japanese was completely foreign to him.

        “I’m fine…” Recovery Girl arched an eyebrow and hopped down off her chair. Izuku winced and began getting out of the bed. “No, no, I’m fine! Um, I’ve already missed a lot of the tournament, right? I should go… Thanks for healing me!”

        A mess of Japanese followed him down the hallway, but he didn’t understand any of the words in particular. It was all a mess. He didn’t need his quirk to know that she was yelling at him, though.

        1-A students were almost all packed into the seating area for their class. He’d emerged just in time to see the end of the round after his. Down in the ring, a storm poured viciously. Bolts of lightning struck out at a thick tree struggling to grow in the rare rays of the sunshine. Every once in a while, the tree swung back, so Izuku decided he couldn’t really hope for a better outcome.

        Sheets of mischievous glass rolled through the stadium at random, pulling at people or whispering in their ears. Hordes of butterflies swarmed with Midnight’s every move. Vaguely, Izuku felt that something was tugging at his brain. He sifted through songs at random, passing some by entirely and barely touching some. Once, he reached out and picked one apart, watching the notes and bars spiral out into the stadium, only to be grabbed by the wind and spread throughout the crowd.

        Izuku chuckled and raised a hand to his shoulder as one of the trails sped by, caressing his fingers before whipping out into the stadium. Before he could take the first step, the world dissolved into lines of overlapping music. Those closest to him, the lightning bolts and the bubblegum and the hypnotizing chant and the subtle, quiet jazz, and the bubbles all warped together and formed a spiral that dragged him down into the sea of songs.

        He blinked as someone jostled his shoulder. A woman in a flatteringly tight business suit stared at him with cats’ eyes and ice water. Every other second her shadow crawled up her legs and devoured her, but the bubbles floating off her coat seemed to keep it at bay for the most part.

        “Hey, Uraraka,” Izuku managed a grin, though he couldn’t help staring at the pink cuffs poking out of her black coat, and the tiny stains where she’d been wiping off her running mascara. Japanese tumbled out of her mouth and swam through his brain, but none of it stuck. Idly he wished he were closer to the boy made of tape, so he could steal a piece.

        Noise exploded from the box. Everyone who’d been watching the fight started talking, and the overlap of characters pressed against the sea of noise that stretched overhead with a surprising amount of force. Cats crawled through his classmates’ legs, ice flowers blossomed over some chairs, tangible rays of sunshine broke out of the mess like spotlights and the din attracted more than a few stray breezes. Glass rolled over them, washing out the flickering illusions that plagued his eyes and giving him a brief moment of clarity.

        Names. People dressed in gym uniforms and scattered bandages. Stained with the colors of each stray ‘lens’ in the breeze, but people all the same. A scattered chord of anger rang out from them as wind played with their uniforms and whispered in their ears. Izuku couldn’t help giggling when smoke swirled around Kaminari and turned his entire shape into something similar to the wind, a mess of multicolored caramelized lightning.

        The look in Uraraka’s eyes dragged him back to the present. More garbled Japanese reached him, but he was slowly adjusting to not understanding. Her shadow stretched out across the gap between them and halted, filling the air with a haunting sort of static.

        “Sorry. I’m fine, but everything is kinda fuzzy right now.”

        A sour taste filled his mouth. He knew the taste of worry all too well, considering how often he had to wash it out of his mouth at home.

        “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine! Just, probably just tired. Maybe a little bit of quirk overuse. Plus, uh, I think I broke my fingers? That happened, right?” Several of them were up and walking towards him as he said it. As more of them got close, the air began to reek and fill with gray smoke that coated his skin and tongue in sour tasting ash.

        Yaoyorozu was the first one who noticed. Her suit was similar to Uraraka’s, though hers had long coattails and flitted back and forth between a conductor’s outfit and a ballgown. The smoke cleared a bit as she spoke, guiding the others back. Izuku repaid her small, kind hearted smile with one full of gratitude (he hoped). Soon, though, he found himself sitting in the crowd with Uraraka on one side and Jirō hovering over his shoulder, staring at him. Without looking he could feel her stare on his shoulders, not physically weighing him down but crawling over his back like rose bushes all the same.

        Jirō, of all of them, was confusing. Shadows crawled over her, almost like they did Uraraka but not quite in the same way. Darkness crept up her figure every time someone glanced her way, though it slowly receded as she adjusted to their presence. It didn’t cling, but it crept over her shoulders as if she was fading from view. Her usual cloud of smoke poured off the legs exposed by her blue skirt, but her clothing flickered between too many dresses, gowns and casual outfits for Izuku to actually tell which suited her more. The thorns growing across his shoulders were uncomfortably hot, but slowly he got used to the heat and it was actually… comforting.

        The tree fell shortly after Izuku sat down. Even if it wasn’t surprising, Izuku felt a bit bad. Bakugo was a hell of an opponent, and Kirishima deserved more. A growl of thunder rolled over Izuku’s head as the storm coiled in on itself and rolled out of the stadium. Bakugo’s declaration. Probably just a glare, but all the same Izuku shuddered. For someone who never wanted to hear Soul songs, Bakugo was frighteningly adept at manipulating them.

        Kyōka hummed quietly. It had been a while since she’d heard the static buzz that usually bugged her when she was close to Midoriya. She wasn’t sure when it had quieted down. Midoriya beating Todoroki had left everyone in the stadium screaming. At first, she’d thought it was Midoriya being unconscious, but he was up. He was standing in the back of the box, staring at the crowd. For a moment, she wondered if he had a concussion.

        Uraraka was already up and heading that way, so Kyōka left him be. Before Uraraka could say anything though, Midoriya looked straight at her and smiled.

        Then Midoriya opened his mouth and something spilled out.

        Whatever Midoriya said, it wasn’t Japanese. It wasn’t any language Kyōka had heard. She wasn’t even sure she’d heard it so much as felt it. Kyōka froze and stared at Midoriya. Only a few people, including Uraraka, had clearly heard whatever the hell that was, and every one of them had zeroed in on Midoriya about as fast as she had. After a moment, their classmates realized Midoriya was on deck and they began to riot. People clambered over chairs to greet him.

        A breeze drifted through the crowd and Kyōka shuddered. Glass windchimes rolled through the crowd lazily, filled with mischievous laughter. Midoriya’s eyes drifted over the crowd and through the air over their heads. His smile didn’t waver. It didn’t feel like he was looking at them.

        “Uh, Deku… are you okay? Did Recovery Girl clear you to leave?” Uraraka asked tentatively. Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck. His mouth moved.

        Kyōka blinked. Whatever Midoriya had said, she had the distinct feeling of… a washing machine?

        He continued talking, and Kyōka felt bits and pieces of things drifting through her mind. She winced when the memory of his broken fingers sent sympathy pangs down her own hand, but he didn’t seem completely… there. Uraraka seemed just as worried as Kyōka was, but that didn’t seem to help. The air near Midoriya suddenly began to rattle subtly, in a way that Kyōka was sure no one else could hear, but they seemed to be clearing out anyway.

        He was getting through to them somehow. Kyōka just had no idea how.

        “ALL RIGHT! WE’VE GOT OUR FINAL FOUR, AND THE FIRST MATCH OF THE SEMI-FINALS! MIDORIYA IZUKU, THE ILLUSIONIST EXTRAORDINAIRE, VERSUS! THE RIDICULOUSLY FAST YOUNG IIDA TENYA, BOTH OF THE HERO COURSE!”

        Izuku stared across the ring. A quiet hum of engines on idle reached his ears, but he couldn’t see Iida’s expression beneath the armor flickering over his gym uniform. For some reason, he couldn’t see Iida without the hero costume. He didn’t mind, particularly. This was a fight and Iida wouldn’t go easy on him.

        Present Mic’s voice left ripples in the air when he used the microphone. Even without understanding the Japanese the meaning was clear This was the beginning.

        Flame poured from Iida’s engines as he pushed his quirk to the limit. Engines roared.

        A white blur raced towards him at the same time, nearly blinding him when it circled in front of him. Iida shouted something.

        Izuku was already reaching out into the streak of white, and his hands met Iida’s shoulders as his legs pushed up and over. He flipped around, pushing up off of Iida’s shoulders and flipping several times before he landed and stumbled forward. When he glanced over his shoulder, Iida was stumbling onto his feet. Another burst of white light sped around towards Izuku.

        He spun around, reaching a hand into the streak, roughly where Iida’s arm would be. When they closed, he was clutching empty air, and he’d already spun out of the way. Iida’s arms closed on empty air at the same time, leaving them both stumbling away from one another.

        Izuku glanced at his hands, wondering what had happened, while a few feet away Iida flinched as his engines began locking up.

        No more white streaks came after him. Izuku waited for a moment to make sure, but Iida couldn’t move, either.

        The sound of engines died, and the sound of grinding, cracking metal filled the air. Izuku stood and watched as Iida’s armor began to snap off of his body, rusting or shattering into pieces. As much as he wanted to tear his eyes away… He couldn’t. When the sound grew too much for him, Izuku pulled on One for All and put everything he had into a right hook.

        He dropped Iida on the sidelines and waited for the crowd to cheer before he picked his friend up and carried him to the stretcher. It took all he had not to cry for his friend, because something was wrong, and he couldn’t put his finger on what.

        Katsuki could feel it. Deku’s quirk was humming through the air, sending chills down his spine. Vaguely he heard the bass vibrations converging on him, as if he’d been surrounded by something. A grin pulled at Katsuki’s cheek, only to be put down before it ever reached the outside world.

        Bird-brain was something new. A challenge Katsuki wasn’t sure what to do with. Deku had done something, and now everyone could use that idiot’s quirk. Katsuki could hear thunder rumbling overhead as he flexed his wrist, more clearly than he could hear the unfamiliar bass wafting off Bird-brain. He recognized the thunder as ‘his song’ from that first challenge he’d had against Deku and the match against round face.

        What a shit show that had been.

        Midnight called start. Rain and thunder spilled down around the man chasing the beast

        Black arms raced out from Bird-brain’s quirk, trying to encircle him. Katsuki’s palms burst, propelling him up and over. He fended off two swipes with more explosions, careful not to put too much force behind them.

        Bird-brain’s quirk pulled back each time. Lightning broke through the shadows, cutting the bass chorus short. Gradually, even the single verse was lost in the rumble of thunder

        Katsuki moved forward. Every swipe was met with a small retaliation until he’d pushed the quirk back to the user. Bird-brain hadn’t moved. When his quirk pulled back and grew into a wall, Katsuki paused.

        Far, far beneath him, Katsuki could hear the monster growling. The storm beat down over its head as it screamed defiance, but it was already cold and soaked through. Shadows flinched back from the lightning crackling overhead and weighed heavy from sitting too long beneath the downpour. Each note drew out too long, overlapping and plucking in ways that they shouldn’t. A burst of thunder made both Tokoyami and the Shadow shiver.

        Katsuki went up, knocking the first two swipes away and flipping over Bird-brain with another burst. Where the idea had come from, he didn’t know, but his Stun Grenade worked perfectly. Tokoyami went down beneath his pal, basically staring down the barrel of a gun as Katsuki pinned his chest with a knee.

        No contest. Katsuki walked off the stage without giving Bird-brain a second thought. Thunder and lightning chased him down the halls like whispers of the Mud-man incident. In Katsuki’s mind, the comparison was a bit too close for comfort.

        It made him sick.

        Deku’s quirk had always been strange. Katsuki hadn’t stopped to think about it because ‘souls’ weren’t a concrete concept. He didn’t stop to think about it at any point, because Deku was the one with the quirk anyways. Careful, quiet Deku who spent all his time researching.

        Someone who couldn’t see the world for what it was, who neglected basic training and didn’t take care of himself and couldn’t take a hint. The textbook definition of insanity: constantly throwing himself against a wall and expecting tiny changes to make the difference.

        A pebble by the side of the road.

        Useless.

        But something was different now. Deku’s years in the dark, scuttling around like the insect he was, had shown him something. The Deku Katsuki knew from class wasn’t the same Deku he’d known when they were kids. Even though he hated to admit it, when he thought about it, the song wasn’t the same.

        Whatever Deku had found, Katsuki wasn’t afraid. Illusions and music couldn’t stop someone who was destined for greatness.

        Maybe this Deku could put up a good fight, though.

        Izuku blinked.

        Air filled his lungs like water, then spilled down his chin when he forced himself to let the breath out. In the shadow of the stadium, he could see butterflies made of solar coronas fluttering overhead. Glassy, iridescent scales filled the spaces between the veins of sunlight, drifting through shadows casually and shattering on contact. Breezes made of crystalline fractals swallowed the butterflies and blew the scales into the wind, showering the stadium with flakes like miniature stars.

When he looked down at his hands, colors spilled out of his skin. Magenta and electric green spilled from the holes in his legs. Orange bled through the right side of his chest and bright yellow glowed fiercely from the scars on his right hand. White sat near his heart, blue shone through his eyes and red light glowed from his left arm.

        The stars were still asleep, but the power that connected them rested inside the void. His fingers pressed against the largest rip in his chest, and the yellow light waned as his fingers drifted too close to the gaping black weight hanging within his tattered chest.

        This power is strange.

        Black smoke billowed up from the void, pouring over his feet and into the hallway. Silver and orange seams flowed through the smoke.

        Is this a memory…? How many times have we been here…?

        Izuku frowned, then reached up towards the blue light glowing behind his eyes. That one was still sleeping, like the rest. Yellow was glowing fiercely, as always, but it was still being forged. What power lay in his right hand was just an echo of the original. Strings tied all the stars together, keeping them tied to the void and the power lying dormant inside him.

        Can you hear me? I can’t… quite reach you. You’ve still got a way to go.

        The white light, the weakest and oldest of the stars burning within Izuku’s frame, stirred in his chest. For a fleeting moment, his right eye caught a glimpse of eight silhouettes shrouded in darkness. One of them, the leader, looked back with real eyes.

        Our legacy… is this what it really feels like?

        Izuku gasped for breath, fighting to stay awake as what was clearly a voice whispered in his ears, echoing around the hallway. He felt like his quirk was active, empowering him while it tried to tear him apart, but the power wasn’t his. Reaching for One for All felt like diving into an ocean, reaching for something sinking too fast for him to catch.

        Izuku blinked.

        …I’ll sleep… for now… to see how you tame this power… This time, I’ll wait for you to come to me…

        He took a few minutes to get up off the floor. The locker room was empty, though he could feel the walls rippling as the ocean of music ebbed and roiled overhead. A chair lay on its side.

        A voice summoned him to the stadium. Trying his best not to stumble, Izuku clawed the sleep from his eyes and let the music lead him through the hallways towards the ring.

        Toshinori wanted to think he was imagining it, but he’s not so naïve. At some point between the matches, the stadium grew quiet. Midoriya’s effect on the audience was finally showing. Millions of eyes watched as the green haired youth slipped out of the tunnel and into the ring. Bakugo’s quiet waiting was enough to set Toshinori on edge, but the glassy look in Midoriya’s eyes and the tension in the air force him to stand up and stagger down the steps, gripping the rail in anticipation.

        Midoriya had a bad habit of surprising everyone with his actions. Between his quiet nature and the rapid, haphazard evolution that Toshinori had witnessed during the first weeks of class, the only thing that he knew for sure was that he couldn’t know anything for sure.

        Momo stared at the ring, gripping Kyōka’s forearm as tight as she dared. The anxiety was new. She’d been afraid before her match, sure, but she’d also been reassured somehow. If she listened close, she could hear that odd melody that Midoriya had unlocked and left softly ringing within her soul.

        Watching Midoriya walk into the stadium, there was no such reassurance.

        Out of everyone in their class, everyone in the school, maybe, Midoriya was the strongest. Momo knew that, even if his demeanor threw everyone else off. She’d seen it during the second round, in the pillar of iridescent lightning and the horrifyingly beautiful darkness haunting his eyes. During the third round, when he took control of the stadium. That would have been easy to miss, unlike the second round, but she’d kept a careful eye on him.

        Now he was… Off. Even more than the second and third rounds, he was broken. She chewed her lip, wishing she could do anything for him at all. He’d reached out to her once. What was she thinking, letting him go out there like that?

        “It’s quiet again…” Kyōka muttered. Momo froze, listening carefully.

        Kyōka was right. The stadium had gone quiet.

        The final match of the freshman class, and no one cheered when Midoriya walked out and took his place. Bakugō had locked down his usual temper and gone stoic. Something buzzed in the air, but even the ethereal bells that Midoriya had unleashed during the first fight were gone now.

        Midoriya took his place, and the world held its breath.

        Shōto stared down at the ring. He’d missed most of the matches after his own and hid away in one of the rooms deep in the stadium. Midoriya’s words, his power, had unlocked something within him. A warmth that went deeper than his quirk. Even sitting with his classmates didn’t feel as lonely as it had before.

        But that feeling was gone now. Instead of feeling warm or cold, he was left with nothing but bated breath.

        The stadium was quiet. Shōto didn’t blame anyone for their hesitance to cheer. Midoriya had taken them in during the opening ceremonies, if Shōto had to guess. Everything that came after was only dragging the world deeper into the boy’s spell, and now… there was only one fight left. One act of the play, one verse of the song.

        Midoriya’s solo, if Shōto had to guess. He frowned at the thought.

        Had any of the other acts been duets…?

        Katsuki stared as Deku walked into the ring. The nerd didn’t look like he was all there, but that was nothing new. It was next to impossible to see where the nerd’s head was at. Even without being all there, though, Katsuki could feel the edge. Just stepping into the ring brought Deku’s pressure down on them, further suffocating the crowd.

        Well, that was just fine. Katsuki wasn’t about to run off just cause the nerd was using his quirk in some sneaky new way.

        “Oi, Deku!” He grinned when Midnight glanced over at him. Deku turned his way, though he didn’t focus on anything. Katsuki’s grin turned to a snarl. “Don’t hold back this time! I’ll beat you, here and now, and prove to these worthless losers that I’m the strongest in our class! You hear me?! I want everything you’ve got, or else…”

        Deku blinked a few times, then glanced down at his hands. His mouth moved, but nothing came out. Katsuki’s eye twitched.

        “My best, huh…?” Katsuki froze as the words washed over him, “Hey, Kacchan…”

        Midoriya’s eyes began to glow as they focus on Katsuki, almost as if he were dragging a knife down Katsuki’s spine one vertebrae at a time.

        That’s not Deku’s voice… what the fuck? Katsuki began to sweat as Midoriya’s skin began to glow and his pupils became black pits, threatening to suck him in and swallow him whole.

        “I used to think that… All Might was the coolest, just because he always saved people. You thought he was the best because he always won…” Midoriya took a deep breath and offered them a haphazard smile, “Do you want to see what makes heroes the best, Kacchan?”

        Katsuki’s teeth ground together as Midnight raised the whip. At some point, Present Mic had started announcing their names. Heat built in his palms, made so much stronger by the icy fear coursing through his blood. Midoriya grinned like a broken doll crawling out of the pit, pawing at Katsuki’s ankles. Lightning flashed and icy rain beat down, swallowed by the yawning darkness.

        The first explosions burst from Katsuki’s palms as the whip fell, and Katsuki’s eyes widened as the beast inside Midoriya woke up.

        Kyōka was on her feet the moment she saw the air start shimmering.

        With the fall of the whip, Bakugō was already launching himself into the fight. Everyone followed Kyōka, leaping to their feet a second later, eyes locked on the ring. On Midoriya’s end of the ring, and the soft emerald light coming from his pale skin.

        No one heard the sound of Bakugō’s explosions. After his feet left the ground, Midoriya’s quirk flared to life.

        The impact shook the entire stadium. First came the light. Soft golden light poured off Midoriya until it filled the stadium. A concert burst to life within the sunburst, so impossibly huge that Kyōka couldn’t pick out the individual parts. Lightning flew off Midoriya in massive arcs, bolts of ruby and topaz and magenta and lime and sunshine and sapphire and pure, blinding white. Millions of voices aligned for the chorus, signing too many songs at once. Just as it had during the second round, Midoriya’s quirk swept her up and dragged her off her feet, dragging her into the ring.

        Within the sea of faces, Kyōka thought she might drown. Only the giddy anxiety that raced through the ocean saved her from screaming as bodies pressed against her, assaulting her ears with their cheers and their weeping.

        No one was cheering. Kyōka’s hands were slipping from the railing as she went limp. Before she passed out, her eyes reached past the golden light, past the lightning and the ocean of souls begin dragged into the fight. The image in the eye of the storm burned itself into her mind long before Yaomomo caught her limp body.

        Toshinori stared with wide eyes as One for All exploded to life. He’d seen the illusions of All Might during Midoriya’s previous bouts, along with the lightning that seemed to define his student’s use of their shared power. It had been vaguely flattering, to see Midoriya’s admiration of his hero form brought to life and used to inspire and intimidate. Maybe he’d written off Midoriya’s power back then. Perhaps he’d simply assumed that Midoriya was pushing both his quirk and One for All to the limits. Something inside his chest burned, aching to be released.

        Something tangible swept over him first. A shockwave rippled outward from Midoriya with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs and dragging him forward, pulling him towards the ring, towards Midoriya. The light that flooded the stadium wasn’t the bright green-white glow that usually came with the use of One for All. Liquid sunshine chased the shockwave until the stadium disappeared entirely, leaving only Midoriya, and the dwindling, shadowy figure of Bakugō. Bolts of lightning burst outward in every direction, awakening the long shadows within the golden fog from ink-black streaks into flickering, messy cracks worming their way into the light. If the boy’s heart were akin to a sun and finally shattered beneath the pressure, Toshinori wouldn’t have been surprised.

        From within the storm, a mesh of voices that Toshinori vaguely recognized reached out.

        Come.

        He hadn’t even had the time to breath between the initial explosion and being dragged from his body, dragged down into the ring and trapped at Midoriya’s shoulder.

        Within the epicenter, Midoriya’s form flickered. Overhead, a maelstrom of discordant music and voices ran together, weaving a massive concert that thundered far, far louder than any natural disaster could. A hurricane was frozen between Midoriya and Bakugō, black and silver clouds full of icy rain and bright red twilight and angry lightning bolts boiling, trapped by the force of Bakugō’s pride and One for All. Music washed over Toshinori with the flashing of the lightning, independent of the chaos overhead. Even as he tried reaching out to the storm, it flickered in and out of existence.

        As fractions of seconds passed by and Toshinori stood at his protégé’s shoulder, he watched Bakugō’s song begin to die. Pressure, be it from the boiling ocean overhead or the raw force of his pride, drove the music until it had no choice but to fizzle and die.

        He reached out, but he had no hand. Toshinori’s screams died within the embers of his soul. Bakugō drew closer inch by agonizing inch, reaching for something even as the reaching mutilated his strength to keep going until...

        The light wasn’t pouring out of Midoriya, Toshinori realized. At the center of the explosion, there was no music. Something within the ocean of noise overhead glowed with the light that he’d seen. Only the lightning came from Midoriya, from something within him. But to those outside, to Toshinori’s eyes, the light could only come from Midoriya.

        Midoriya trembled. Music flooded the air, stronger than any tsunami or earthquake, using his body like a speaker. Major chords struck him with so much force that it left afterimages. Millions of souls poured into his shoulders and back, pouring out of his eyes and skull when they’d used him to play their part.

        Midoriya fell to his knees.

        Midoriya screamed.

        Midoriya tore at his hair.

        Midoriya fell, reaching towards the maelstrom, and the darkness beneath their feet dragged him even deeper.

        Midoriya collapsed.

        The machines recording the match recorded the final match time at five point two seconds. Bakugō barely caught himself before flying out of the ring and fell to his knees the moment he tried standing straight. For minutes afterward, Midoriya’s body lay limp on the concrete. It wasn’t until the medical drones recovered his body that the spell was broken. Midnight and Present Mic announced the results, sending a ripple of confusion through the crowd.

        Something washed through the stadium in the minutes afterward. Within the heroes who’d flooded the industry in the wake of All Might, a feeling that they knew all too well bloomed into something tangible. Among everyone, the civilians and heroes and students alike, a tiny seed was stitched into their souls.

        No one left the event without feeling that they were in two places at once.

Chapter Text

        “He’s not going to wake up any time soon, Toshinori. Quit fidgeting like an old mother hen!” Recovery Girl’s cane slapped his hand away from the bedside. Her glare remained on him until he’d pressed his chair against the wall and remained there, hands firmly in his lap. Toshinori shifted uneasily in the chair, frowning at the boy tucked into the bed.

        He’d seen Midoriya in the Nurse’s office far more times than he liked, certainly, but never unconscious. Never with wavering hope that the boy would wake up.

        “If he’s just exhausted, why is he covered in bandages?” Aizawa grumbled from the wall at the foot of the bed. Recovery Girl frowned pointedly at him but grabbed her clipboard anyways.

        “Midoriya-kun is suffering from several things. Almost all of them are contributing to his exhaustion, which is one of the most extreme cases I’ve seen in a boy his age for a long time. Dehydration, malnutrition, overwork, physical trauma and, thanks to the stunts he pulled today, excessive quirk use leading to quirk exhaustion. For anyone else, they’d be twice as tired as the day they died,” Recovery Girl turned her eyes to the bed, “But Midoriya’s quirk, whatever the hell it is, seems to be wired so deeply into his sensory organs that he’s dealing with a great deal of kickback. If I had to put it into normal words…”

        Toshinori gulped when Recovery Girl’s GlareTM turned back to him.

        “It’s almost as if someone set off a flashbang in the boy’s neural system after three days of no sleep and barely anything to eat or drink.”

        “Midoriya is our student, Recovery Girl. I’ll admit a part of the fault may fall on us for encouraging them…” Aizawa glanced Toshinori’s direction, but there was little heat behind the look for once, “But I’ve been observing Midoriya closely for a while. Aside from being as much of a morning person as I am, he seemed fine.”

        “That is precisely why I held you both back here!” Recovery Girl snapped, throwing the clipboard onto the bed and slamming her cane into the floor. “I’ve seen this boy in here before. He turned his bones to dust during practice, over-used his quirk during the USJ attack, and broke his fingers against Todoroki. Now, normally, I’d write it off as the boy being reckless and having All Might as his daycare attendant!”

        “That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” Toshinori muttered. He winced at the glares sent his way and bit down on his tongue.

        “After today, though, I sent for his medical records. What I’ve found is disturbing, and it speaks to a trend that you’ve both become a part of, even if I want to believe that you both have the best intentions.” Recovery Girl sighed and pulled a file from her desk, holding it out to Aizawa. “Take that with you when you leave, Shōta. Maybe it will help you understand what I mean when you’ve calmed down.”        

        “I’m a grown man, Recovery Girl. Don’t coddle me.” Aizawa growled.

        “Then take responsibility, Eraserhead!” Recovery Girl snapped. “This boy, your student, has just put enough strain on his body that he’s in a self-induced coma, one that I can only pray he wakes up from within the next few days, and the only people to blame are the ones who’ve been letting him scrape by without caring for his health!”

        Toshinori winced at the way she said it. At the same time, he remembered the images from his moments inside Midoriya’s… outburst. Scenes of the boy drowning beneath the weight of One for All. Broken images of Midoriya falling apart, collapsing… Right before he’d actually given in.

        “This isn’t just you, Shōta, it’s everyone. Every teacher who ignored the boy, myself for letting him up and walk out of here after that mess with Todoroki-kun, every doctor listed in that report and dare I say it, even his mother should be ashamed. Two months! I’ve seen him for two whole months, constantly noticing the stress and traces of exhaustion, the rumors of Midoriya’s quirk being strange, but I never acted. The boy turned an arm to dust, and we let him off with a scolding. Now, here he is! By my guess, he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week. The dehydration and the malnutrition are probably because he’s too sick to keep food down or not eating enough to keep up with his rapid growth. And now we find out that his quirk is strong enough to induce vivid hallucinations in as many as a hundred thousand people, all at once, if the boy puts his mind to it! Yuuei has run Midoriya Izuku into the ground, and I’ll be damned if I let you leave here without a THOROUGH understanding of how badly we’ve failed him.”

        Aizawa stalked out of the room after that. Toshinori couldn’t blame him, but the hollow ache in his chest continued to deepen after the other man left. Recovery Girl seemed content to stew on her own and leave him be, though, if he were honest, he would have preferred a lecture.

        Compared to staring at his student’s sleeping form, any distraction would have been better.

        A golden sunburst played across the back of Kyōka’s eyelids. Her fingers slid across the strings of her guitar idly, grounding her in the present. The vividness of her memory, even after almost two days, was new for her. Not even the other songs she heard from Midoriya’s quirk held that much life, or any sort of concrete order. Momo’s song was still a broken memory in the back of her mind, though she wanted to tug out the pieces and try playing them herself.

        No one knew what happened to Midoriya after he collapsed. She’d messaged a few people, but no one could contact their teachers or Recovery Girl before school started again (tomorrow, she reminded herself, just wait till tomorrow…) and they all seemed hesitant.

        It wasn’t like he died in the lightshow. She frowned, pressed her fingers down onto the strings and winced as she missed any sort of normal chord. His quirk is just an illusion.

        Nothing about the Festival made sense. Midoriya’s quirk seemed like it was getting stronger the further in they went, and every time he pulled something it was a different level than the next. Getting sucked into his quirk, time and time again, had proved that it was as much of an enigma as Midoriya himself. Weak and unstable one second, capable of leveling a building the next. Too weak willed to speak to Yaomomo himself, but strong enough to want to reach out and help, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone. Afraid, and to be feared. Surrounded by people and yet… she had the sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t really there at all.

        Like she’d been looking at a cardboard cutout instead of the real thing.

        She groaned and rolled deeper into her beanbag, forcefully ejecting herself from the circular train of thought before she could start up again. Even though she knew better, she plucked the chords that sounded most similar to the notes she’d heard in Yaomomo’s song, and her own, but she couldn’t put her ear to the music anymore. Without being able to hear it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her music didn’t match the sounds. A few more chords tumbled out of her guitar, but her eyes were still focus on the figure buried in the nova.

        He’d looked like he was in pain.

        Shōto wasn’t used to the house being so quiet. In the past, when the house had been quiet, it was a time to be afraid. For some reason this time it was different.

        He smiled softly to no one in particular, because it was a joke to imagine Todoroki Enji finding something within Midoriya. Nothing short of being number one would satisfy Endeavor.

        But the house was quiet, and there was no reason for that. So Shōto was left alone in his room, at his desk, to sit and think. Or… he should have been. Deep within the quiet was a sound that drew Shōto in and strung him along.

        From his room, he could hear the house breathing. In the kitchen, harp strings left ripples over a cup of green tea. He could feel the cool warmth of pavement after dark the same way he would feel a chill in the breeze of a sunny afternoon, or the warmth of cider in a glass cup. Deeper in the house, the soft grate of a rain stick played like embers of a campfire. Echoes of a drum played out of turn, chasing a melody that clung to the tip of Shōto’s tongue but eluded him all the same.

        Something warm hummed in his chest, something that lingered in the memories of his childhood. A ghost of warmth in laughter and white hair, dreaming of a bright future. The warmth of his left side wasn’t angry anymore. Candle-head flames danced over his fingers, spilling over his palm like water and pooling at his elbow. Fire came to him as easily as breathing, never reaching too far from his skin and never hot enough to burn. He’d tried losing himself in the music, but icy cold washed over him every time he tried. Briefly, he felt a vivid sensation of fingernails abruptly hitting a mirror and icy water rushing over his skin.

        Quietly, on that Sunday evening, Shōto let the music play without looking any deeper. He walked the trail of it, ignoring the desire to reach out and pluck leaves from the plants or tread into the meadows.

        Life trailed off, and Shōto dreamt of summer fireflies and candle-flame lanterns.

        Shōta arrived at Yuuei early. Even by his normal standards, he was exhausted. The reason lay on his desk in front of him, unopened, staring back at him like a smug child. A simple medical report dated eight years ago, and some smaller reports trailing behind it to flesh out the two years that were missing.

        From the first day, Shōta had pegged Midoriya as a problem. The boy seemed to have issue with people, leaving him terrified of basic human interaction. Under stress he grew more and more skittish, eventually leaving him too panicked to act efficiently, and his quirk made no sense, on top of making other people nervous, which was only made worse by a lack of control. As the semester progressed Midoriya was both his best student and his worst: his grades were average, but Midoriya had been their greatest asset at the USJ and he’d learned to control his quirk at an almost inhuman rate. People were slowly gravitating towards him, which left his only issue being subpar grades and an attitude problem.

        A student who was afraid of being addressed, who avoided attention altogether if he could. Who arrived irritable in the morning, and dozed off during the day. Self-sacrificing, self-deprecating, hyper-sensitive to the presence of others and constantly fidgeting (when he could stay awake).

        The only thing missing was a hyper active flight response. Shōta sank deeper into the wraps of his capture weapon, forcing himself to acknowledge his idiocy for what it was. He had no excuse. Recovery Girl had made that clear.

        If nothing else, he wasn’t alone.

        Going by medical records, Midoriya’s quirk developed properly. For two years, or maybe even more, he’d been called a liar. Psychiatrists skilled in helping kids address those sorts of issues mentioned bullying and a tendency to avoid the topic of his quirk. Lack of proper parenting was mentioned once, and crossed out (half-heartedly, Shōta noticed) to address that the Midoriyas, specifically Midoriya-san, was doing her best to raise Izuku alone. Two of the reports on his psych mentioned that when he talked about having a quirk, he was punished. Extensive reports of bullying were noted by all three doctors, but none of them had names of bullies or records of injury.

        One thing Shōta noticed was the conversations with Midoriya-san. She constantly mentioned Izuku retreating in on himself, once having been an out-going and cheerful child. Nothing like the boy Shōta knew.

        Recovery Girl had tucked a note and a ‘control’ file into Midoriya’s reports. An EEG of a normal extra-sensory quirk user during adulthood. Looking at the two even Shōta could tell that Midoriya’s quirk was something irregular. The control photos showed a higher activity in the associated areas of the brain (Shōta knew the lobes connected to quirk usage and sensory receptors from studying his own quirk back in high school) but nothing that Shōta wasn’t used to seeing in quirk studies.

        Even at age eight, Midoriya’s quirk was lighting his brain up like a firework show. Memory regions, every sensory receptor that Shōta knew, the traces of hyper-awareness that he saw in pro-heroes (the final nail in the coffin for Midoriya’s diagnosis, in Shōta’s eyes) and even notes stating that the boy had higher than average levels of nearly every endorphin, building a higher-than-average resistance to those endorphins. Added onto the back was a note that, when stressed, the boy released more potent endorphins than the resting level (nearly double what any normal human received for normal stress levels).

        According to the reports, it had taken six months for the doctors to verify that “The patient (Midoriya Izuku) had an extra-sensory quirk that seemed to have an empathic reaction.”

        Shōta frowned when he slid Midoriya’s report back into the folder.

        The last sentence bothered him. It left people with questions, the type of questions that should have been answered by now. He could only assume (dare he say hope…) that Midoriya himself had the answers. But they’d asked about his quirk before, and his answers were… At the time Shōta had thought they were half assed, or outright lies. No one had ever proved things like ‘souls’ existed in the first place.

        Ignoring what he didn’t know, Shōta still had a major problem. Midoriya had a brain drowning in stimuli, undiagnosed PTSD and a history of neglect reaching all the way back to childhood, with three different psychiatrists describing abuse at school. His quirk was an unknown variable, something that had been written off by everyone in the boy’s life before Yuuei.

        Shōta was starting to think that people had written off Midoriya entirely before Yuuei. The thought made him sick. He got up and wandered towards the coffee maker. A twisted smirk crossed his face for a moment when he wondered how those people felt now, after watching Midoriya induce hallucinations in a hundred thousand people at once.

        Izuku stared at the computer screen, scrolling with numb fingers as he drank in the words.

        Second place in the Sport’s Festival collapses without a show

        National Broadcast Difficulties? Details behind the Yuuei Lights!

        Flashy Illusionist leaves Crowds Dazed and Television Audience Confused

        How many more headlines had he scrolled past? Chat rooms had blown up with criticism for the results. According to every scientist, every top comment, every thread, his quirk was Illusion generation and he’d been out to make a name for himself, enraging every other contestant and ruining a national event for his own gain.

        A few sparse articles had interviews with people who’d been there, but the answers were vague. No one was satisfied with the outcome, even if he hadn’t won. People from his old middle school had gone public and said that he was a spineless kid who was probably just throwing a temper tantrum on national television.

        Shutting down the computer didn’t let him forget it. Eventually he got up and got dressed in his uniform, leaving a note for his mother and leaving. A glance at the clock told him it was just after three in the morning. For once the time didn’t bother him. The lack of burning or ache in his eyes was little comfort against the storm that waited for him at school.

        For an hour, he re-lived the Festival. The last half was more of a haze, but he remembered everything for what it was. Less a haze and more… dissociation, he guessed.

        If nothing else, he knew a little more now, after his episode in the stadium. One for All was definitely not just a quirk. And when it mixed with his own power… Something was going to happen, eventually. He was running out of time to make the power his own.

        Izuku frowned, then sighed and sat down on the beach. The songs there were familiar, after months of meditation. Stars, sea, sky, sand… Izuku’s song was familiar, somber and quiet, but as always, he paid his song no mind and pushed deeper.

        One for All didn’t hum the way it used to. The power within him was slowly changing, fitting itself to the cavern Izuku carried in his chest. Eight colored lights pulsed within the void, each humming their own individual song. Izuku drifted over them, from sunshine to magenta and all the way back to the pearl white gem glowing weakly at the beginning of the constellation.

        The songs were more quiet than he remembered. Even the symphony that was One for All in its entirety hummed quietly, without pushing. Compared to when he’d first received it, the power was greater. Not larger, not stronger than it had been, but… more consistent.

        …Tame this power…

        Izuku frowned.

        One for All is a stockpile of power, but… All Might was only using the quirk one way. He thought of his mentor, solving things with wit but mostly ending struggles with immense power. Then he thought of himself, of his days scurrying through the city and that hospital and his school. All Might… None of the other users did what he did. Even if they may have had their own quirks, none of the past users made themselves a Symbol. All Might used One for All how he wanted, how he saw fit. Sure, he only had one quirk, THIS quirk…       

        Blue and grey eyes flashed through Izuku’s mind. A rush of memories, shattered ice and shattered expectations, flooded his mind and threatened to break his concentration. It took several moments before he could reach One for All again, and longer for him to calm down enough to keep the world blocked out.

        No one wants me to be their Symbol of Peace.

        Echoes of thunder and faded burns, cuts and bruises washed over his skin for a brief moment.

        But… I always knew that… All Might chose me to receive this power. There’s no going back, but there was never any going back in the first place. A memory of a melody, of fluttering pages and a duet, soft jazz and rich opera, drifted through his mind in frames. I was only looking out for myself, using my quirks like I did.

        Izuku thought of Todoroki Shōto, and Todoroki Enji, and Shinsō and Bakugō and Yaoyorozu…

        I don’t need to be another All Might. But… I can help THEM become the next All Might.

        Izuku took a breath and let One for All rush through him. The power felt like flexing. A counter-strain that supported him instead of warning him. Strength, speed, and awareness strung together by eight previous holders, each willing to give their lives to save others. Eight generations of heroes, all woven together into a power that only Izuku could fully comprehend the depths of.

        But there was more to the song than power. More than memories.

        The strength of One for All bled from his muscles. Izuku took a breath, then pressed One for All out across the beach.

        (A report was filed that morning. Several commuters and a few stray early-birds who kept the beach on their morning routine reported flashes of emerald light and odd noises coming from the seaside, adding more rumor to the mystery surrounding the pristine beach)

        Yuuei was quiet. It was hard to believe that two months ago, walking around with only ordinary white noise was normal. Walking around without the static fuzz of indecipherable songs in her ears was more uncomfortable than it should have been, though the rain may have made things worse.

        Kyōka blinked when Iida ran by her, idly wondering if he ever stopped and let his joints bend at less than a ninety-degree angle. She changed her shoes and made her way through the halls, listening carefully. Asking after him would be… Just seeing him in class was fine. Everyone being in class would be fine. Midoriya threw them for loops on a weekly, if not daily basis, after all. This was no different.

        A few of her classmates were already there, chatting and going about their business. She grinned when Kaminari asked her if someone had recognized her. Of course, people hadn’t, she’d made sure to keep her hood up, but listening to them chat about getting famous was fun.

        Todoroki came in a bit later than he usually did. Kyōka caught his eyes as he looked around the room, and when he noticed her looking, he paused and offered a nod. When the shock wore off, she offered a weak call. Her eyes followed him as he walked down the row…

        Kyōka froze when she saw Midoriya. He was there, sitting in his desk with his eyes closed, using his backpack as a pillow. Todoroki passed by him and hesitated, almost as if he wanted to say something. She frowned when he passed by without doing anything.

        Before she could get up and kick Midoriya’s desk, she heard the door slide open and Bakugō stalked into the room.

        Everyone in the room halted, staring at the blonde. The fire was gone. Red eyes ran over the class, weighing each of them as he headed for his seat. He didn’t pause at the sight of Midoriya draped over his desk, or the looks he was getting.

        She shifted, looking from Todoroki to Midoriya to Bakugō.

        Today was going to be quiet, apparently. She decided she very much did NOT like it better.

        Tenya didn’t want to go to school.

        When the news dropped, people would know. Some of them, at least. Maybe not everyone would, and it would be nice to not feel so… tight. He felt as if his chest were about to cave in on itself. That might have been more merciful than living with the guilt, the loss of his brother’s presence in his life. Never again would Ingenium run through the streets and save people,

        But, all in all, Tenya thought the people might not be so bad. He wasn’t afraid of the people. There was something far worse waiting for him at school. Something that Tenya couldn’t understand lying in wait to snap at these feelings of rage and despair. Exposure was more terrifying than anything.

        He took the pain, the anguish, everything and he buried it down as deep as it would go. Rehearsing in the mirror began to make him feel… almost normal. Then he was off, taking the train to Yuuei, running through the rain to make it to class early.

        Of course, for once, nothing waits for him in the classroom. He arrived blissfully alone, and takes his seat and worked on some paperwork from his duties as the class rep. Gradually, people file in. Every time the door opened, Tenya paused and waited. At some point, the door would open and discordant music would flow in, blooming from everyone in the room and filling the silence that has so far been his armor. Ice courses through his veins more with every student that files in who leaves him in silence.

        Tenya wasn’t even sure if he wants it to happen, or if he’s afraid of it. He’d never felt anything like this type of fear, all icy sweat and suspicious glances toward the door. All without the thrill, without any sort of excitement.

        “Iida-kun…?”

        Tenya blinked. His friend stood over his desk, looking down at him with worried eyes.

        “Did you get enough sleep, Iida-kun? You looked… kinda out of it there.” Uraraka murmured.

        “I’m fine! Simply thinking about the… sports festival. Thank you for asking, Uraraka-kun!” Tenya replied, offering a small smile. Both of them look up as the door opened, and Todoroki slipped in. For the first time that Tenya can remember, the dichromatic youth ran his eyes over the class with more than disinterest on his face. He nodded to Jirō, then to Tenya when their eyes met.

        Tenya froze when he saw Todoroki pause by Midoriya’s desk.

        Somehow, the boy must have entered when Tenya wasn’t paying attention. But without the music… had he grown used to finding the boy with the music playing? Was that even possible? Of course, Midoriya would come back with another trick tucked up his sleeve.

        “Midoriya-kun must be tired today, huh?” Uraraka murmured, looking over at the boy sprawled across his desk.

        “I suppose he must be. But that’s not surprising, with how he pushes himself.” Tenya said quietly. Uraraka gave him an odd look, but eventually she moved off to her seat.

        Aizawa-sensei announced the internships, and Tenya can’t help but feel the writhing emotions in his gut become more powerful. If things… If anything had turned out different, he might have interned with his brother. That would have been his choice, their choice, and that choice had been taken from them.

        Apparently, choosing their hero aliases is left on the agenda for homeroom, leaving Tenya with an even worse decision than before. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t write the words he wanted. Even the strange energy pulsing through the room can’t excite him for what will come after choosing these names.

        When lunch time came, he decided to stay behind. Uraraka took the excuse about rep duties easily. Tenya waited… but Midoriya was gone, again. Leaving Tenya in his silence, alone with the barely controlled misery and hate.

        That was fine. He hadn’t wanted to see Midoriya today anyway.

        Shōta watched carefully as he announced the internships and the results of the requests. Overall, his class had gotten several requests. Everyone who had placed in the tournament got a handful… Almost. Truthfully, he was shocked that he hadn’t predicted the backlash. But Midoriya apparently still had some tricks up his sleeve, because the boy didn’t acknowledge his results at all.

        No one acknowledged it. As a whole, his class ignored Midoriya and chose to shower Todoroki and Bakugō with praise for getting so many recommendations. The one saving grace was that the distribution (save for those three) was fairly even. Stragglers obviously didn’t have any, but that could be fixed. Midnight sauntered in, all flair and fake sensuality, as if to remind Shōta what had to be done.

        Towards the end of her speech, he glanced towards Midoriya’s desk.

        Midoriya was sunk in his chair, as usual, but his eyes were scanning the class. Once or twice he paused, but for the most part he swept his eyes over them until he caught Shōta looking. Shōta raised an eyebrow as they exchanged looks and narrowed his eyes when Midoriya offered him a shy smile.

        Part of him knew that letting the problem sit wouldn’t help. The longer he let Midoriya’s issues go without being addressed, the worse things would get. But on the other hand, Midoriya had evolved at a rate that far outstripped his peers. On a whim, Shōta took to his sleeping bag and feigned sleep in the corner.

        He thought he was actually falling asleep when the sensation washed over him. It felt as if he were teasing the edges of unconsciousness, but the music came soon enough after that he didn’t shake himself free.

        During USJ he’d been a part of the fight, a gear within Midoriya’s power, but listening to it passively was… odd. Focusing on the sound sent whole sensations through him, compared to the illusions and the strange noises he’d been subject to commentating on the Sports Festival.

        Everyone was clamoring over their names, he knew. They always did, unless they were like Midoriya and Todoroki and Kouda. Few high school freshmen were actual introverts, and these kids were doing something ‘heroic’. But now… now there was something else to pay attention to. If Shōta hadn’t given Midoriya the benefit of the doubt, if Midoriya hadn’t done something so out of character…

        Lightning ran down his spine, through his bones until he was fighting to keep himself still. A brief heat radiated through the air, spilling to the floor from the strings tied to Shōta’s shoulders. The way it pooled and bubbled across the floor left him covered in goosebumps from the alternating flashes of hot and cold playing up and down his skin.

        … he’d never have noticed the music humming through the room…

        A groan rushed over the classroom like a wave washing up a beach. To his ears, it sounded as if someone had drawn a bow across the darkest set of strings he’d ever heard and let the same note play out for too long. While the note receded, a dry wind full of paper scraps rushed into the room. He felt something sleeping, snoring away beyond his hearing and leaving them all alone… for now. It left him feeling both terrified of being beneath the beast’s nose and thrilled at the prospect of being so close.

        Beneath his feet, the puddles of fire caught the paper scraps. Rosewood smoke filled the air and left bursts of resonant flute throughout the room. The music continued to swell as the two songs began to create new sensations on contact, and the mix became a song entirely its own: a heady song that was more at home in a bar near closing time than a classroom. Even then… Each of the first songs played out subtly in their own way, and the mix played out almost like the aftertaste of a particularly strong alcohol on the tongue.

        Shōta blinked as he looked up. Each of the students had paused, staring at their whiteboards. Some were frozen halfway to the board, ready to mark down their childhood decisions, while others hadn’t even picked up the pen yet. But in each of them, something was different from the moment before Midoriya had played the songs. Aoyama lost his smile, becoming slightly more serious. Bakugo’s angry expression had died, and he looked… still pretty angry. He didn’t seem to have a mode that wasn’t at all times ready to murder someone. On the other side of the room Ashido was leaning back in her seat, looking pensive.

        Then they began to talk, and the music changed again. He listened as the three songs receded, and Shōta couldn’t hear the song anymore. For several minutes, he stared at Midoriya’s desk.

        Eventually, the boy met his glare, despite the fact that everyone else seemed to buy his ‘sleeping’ act. They exchanged looks for a few minutes before Midoriya ducked his head and began writing on the board.

        Waiting wouldn’t hurt, Shōta decided. For whatever reason, Midoriya seemed to be both his biggest problem and his greatest success at the moment. He had a sinking feeling that it had nothing to do with the teachers at all. If Midoriya’s growth rate was always this fast… they were all in for a wild few years.

        Besides. He had some phone calls to make, and a lot of holes in Midoriya’s background to fill.

        Toshinori was surprised when Aizawa called him in after classes on Tuesday. Other than a time, and a meeting in the principal’s office, the only thing they told him was that it was for ‘the problem child’.

        “We need All Might, so get to it.” Aizawa grumbled. “We’ve only got a half hour to talk freely before the boy’s mother gets here.”

        “His mother…?!” Toshinori choked. Once he wiped his chin, he transformed and took a seat. Nezu stared at the pages laid out in front of him, quietly pouring over whatever was in them, and All Might waited a bit before he opened his and looked. What waited inside was a series of medical reports, and a series of interviews from the days before.

        “All Might. Honestly, I’ve got no idea what is wrong with you when it comes to Midoriya, but I know there’s something. You’ve as much a right to this information as I do, but Nezu has already confirmed that this isn’t to leave the room once we start, got it? Midoriya’s past is not something we want getting out.” Aizawa glared at him for a moment, waiting for a sign. Toshinori cleared his throat of the blood welling in his chest and nodded.

        “Is this what Recovery Girl gave you?” Toshinori muttered.

        “No. Only those medical reports are. I went and interviewed some of Aldera Junior High’s faculty yesterday, and today I’m speaking with Midoriya-san to try and finish out the timeline.” Aizawa claimed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “What you’re looking at is a history of systematic neglect going back to the boy’s childhood.”

        A paper slipped from Toshinori’s hands, falling back into the folder. The hacking fit spew blood out, nearly all over the carpet. Only a quick move by Nezu managed to save the rug.

        “Systematic… Aizawa-kun, Midoriya would have told someone…”

        “You’re naïve, All Might.” Aizawa sighed. “Read the damn papers already. We don’t have long if you want to ask questions before we talk with Midoriya-san.”

        The medical reports were enlightening. Young Midoriya’s Soul Song had seemed strong before, but he’d never thought that the quirk reached so deep into his mind. Notes on high levels of endorphins and an extremely active hippocampus almost went over Toshinori’s head, but he caught them before he turned to the psychiatrists’ reports. Mentions of bullying, without names, didn’t surprise him. Avoidance of his quirk as a topic didn’t either. In all the time he’d known the boy, Midoriya didn’t like talking about his quirk, or himself in general.

        He didn’t quite know what to think when he read the date of the reports, or the assumed ‘quirkless’ diagnosis.

        “You’re out of time.” Aizawa muttered. Toshinori perked up as a knock sounded at the door, and Nezu buzzed a short, green-haired woman in. The resemblance to her son was uncanny, right down to the nervous shaking. She bowed, one that was returned by everyone in the room, and took the chair that Aizawa had left empty. He tried not to sweat as she snuck side-long glances at him while staring at Nezu.

        “Thank you for coming today, Midoriya-san! I’m Nezu, principal of Yuuei, of course. Aizawa and All Might, as the ones in charge of your son’s class, called you here to address some concerns and I hoped to sit in. I’ll leave it to them.” Nezu chirped, shutting the folder and grinning with all his usual enthusiasm.

        “Ah, th-thank you for h-having me…” Midoriya-san stammered. Toshinori coughed, trying to suppress the chuckle that tickled his throat. Really, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

        “Midoriya-san. I asked for you to come because I’m worried about your son.” The trembling stopped instantly. Midoriya’s eyes locked onto Aizawa, and the air about her changed entirely. A momentary glare between the two, one wide eyed and the other tired, challenging, was the only thing that passed between them before Aizawa continued. “Recovery Girl did some digging into Midoriya Izuku’s medical records, and I want to confirm some things, if you don’t mind.”

        “…You’re talking about the quirklessness.” Midoriya muttered.

        “So, you’re not going to deny it.” Aizawa sighed. “That makes this easier.”

        Toshinori’s smile felt stiff on his cheeks. Why a parent would lie, he had no idea.

        “What exactly made you believe that your son was quirkless, instead of testing him for the quirk he claimed?” Aizawa asked. Midoriya pursed her lips, then took a deep breath.

        “I… When Izuku was young, he watched All Might videos almost non-stop. It bordered on an obsession with heroes, everything about them. And then… his classmates started getting quirks. We all watched as Izuku was left further and further behind. One day, he asked me about music. I thought… I thought maybe he was just hearing things. He was the fifth to last in his class without a quirk, and he wanted one desperately, Aizawa-san. He was a boy with a vivid imagination, creative and smart and… I suppose looking back there’s no excuse.” Midoriya sighed. “I took him to a quirk therapist after a few months, and he just mentioned being bullied. She said that that was a common thing with children who wanted to believe they had a quirk, even though not everyone developed one.”

        “I haven’t been able to contact any of the doctors who gave this diagnosis. I imagine that they’re trying to hide from this, after the Sports Festival was broadcast” Aizawa grumbled.

        “Er, Midoriya-san… do you know what your son’s quirk does? Functionally, I mean?” Toshinori asked carefully. Midoriya glanced at him, then balled her fists in her skirt.

        “He showed me once. And every once in a while, over the years, but he’s always been somewhat cryptic about it. I know it’s an empathy quirk, one that plays emotions and memories in music. Once I realized he had one, I… I let him do as he liked when he was trying to figure out his quirk.” She said quietly.

        “What do you mean, ‘do as he liked?’ Was Midoriya-kun often trying to learn about his quirk?” Nezu chimed in. Midoriya nodded.

        “Constantly. He spent two years visiting hospitals and orchestra halls, trying to figure out how it worked. For a long time, he would stay out till late afternoon doing projects to figure it out.” Midoriya smiled wistfully. “Sometimes he came home exhausted, looking the way he did when he was younger. Bright and happy, like nothing had ever happened.”

        “Midoriya-san. Did you ever encourage him in his wish to become a hero?” Nezu’s voice was different. The smile on his face was fixed, like Toshinori’s All Might smile. Something caught in Midoriya’s throat.

        “…I wish I had, but I can’t say that I did before he got into Yuuei.”

        Toshinori stared down at the folder in his hands. If he knew one thing about his protégé, it was that the boy picked up on emotions like a police dog. Which could only mean…

        “Midoriya-san. Take a moment if you need to. But we have a few more things to ask.” Aizawa murmured. The woman shook her head.

        “I can’t just let this go. Someone is finally paying attention to my boy. I’ll do whatever I can, even if it means you all hate me for it.” Midoriya said weakly. Aizawa nodded.

        “Were you aware that Aldera Junior High was allowing Midoriya to be discriminated against?” Aizawa asked. Midoriya paused, then shrugged.

        “I thought that might be the case, but I thought they would tell me if it escalated to something horrible.” She muttered. Aizawa glanced down at the folder in his hands, sighed, then extended it to the woman. She glanced up at him warily before she took it.

        “This is the complete report of my talks with Midoriya’s teachers, his principal and the school nurses. As well as a complied medical report from his psychiatrists and the doctors who diagnosed him as having an empathy quirk.” Aizawa said quietly. “After the interview, I’m almost positive that Midoriya saw the nurse there at least a few times a month. I firmly believe there is a strong case of neglect that needs to be addressed in your son.”

        “N…” Midoriya’s eyes widened. Toshinori wasn’t sure what was worse: watching the woman react to the unsaid accusation, or the acceptance that followed.

        “My apologies for being blunt. But, if I’m following the conversation, Midoriya-san, you don’t know the specifics of your son’s quirk. He spent two years diagnosed quirkless, called a liar and bullied for his status. What I believe,” Aizawa delivered the rant with hands in pockets, barely hesitating as he stared at the woman’s watering eyes, “is that Midoriya Izuku developed PTSD from an early age and grew reclusive due to a lack of any sort of accepting environment.”

        Toshinori thought that, if he could hear the music, that would be the moment he heard Midoriya Inko’s heart break. She’d known, obviously. No denial followed the bold, almost heretical declaration. But he saw the tears start to fall as Aizawa finished.

        “Do you know when Midoriya started showing jumpiness? Or when he started becoming hyper aware of movement, people in the room?” Aizawa asked quietly.

        “…H-he… When Izuku was ten, he stopped going to hospitals. Openly refused going to anyone other than a small pediatrician’s office…” Midoriya murmured, taking a few tissues to wipe her eyes. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened, but he spent three days sick at home. For almost a week he barely spoke at all. I think that may have been the first time I realized that he was jumpier than he should have been.”

        “His quirk allows him to feel people’s presence. Midoriya seems to be constantly aware of the people around him, unless he’s tired or distracted. What brought all of this to our attention, though, was Recovery Girl’s diagnosis. Midoriya-kun had been suffering severe exhaustion before and during the sports festival. Did you know he hadn’t been sleeping well?” Aizawa continued. Midoriya shook her head.

        “I thought something was wrong when he stopped eating as much. But he said he was just nervous for the festival.” She whimpered.

        “I see.” Aizawa huffed. The man ran a hand through his hair, then dragged it over his eyes. “I don’t have any more questions, Midoriya-san. I apologize for being direct, but I felt that these things need to be addressed before I can properly address the issues that your son seems to have with people.”

        Toshinori gaped as the man stalked out of the room without even a proper dismissal. Midoriya continued sniffing, staring at her skirt in the chair beside him.

        “Ah… I am sorry that we had to meet like this, Midoriya-san.” He sputtered, not sure where he was finding the words but glad to have anything to break the silence at all, “For what it’s worth, your son… I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with a stronger conviction, or more heart, than young Midoriya. He’s become something of an inspiration to the members of his class.”

        “I s-see…” Midoriya smiled a bit at that, at least. “You know, All Might-sama, you were his idol. I’m sure that learning from you has been one of the things that drives him to do his best.”

        I wish I could tell you outright, Midoriya-san. Toshinori bit back the words.

        “Ah, you say All Might ‘was’ his idol, Midoriya-san.” Nezu chirped, snapping Toshinori back to reality. “Do you mean to say that Midoriya has some other favorite?”

        “N-n-no!” Midoriya stammered, flushed all the way to the roots of her hair. Toshinori chuckled. “Wh-what I meant is that he, Izuku stopped talking about heroes when he was young, too. He’d chase hero fights, but he… even before the hospital, Izuku never worshipped heroes much. Not like he did when he was little.”

        Toshinori paused.

        Now that he thought about it… had he ever heard his student talk about a hero that he admired? He’d mentioned on that first day that he wanted to be a hero like All Might, but it hadn’t been a reverent tone.

        How much do I actually know about my student? Toshinori frowned to himself, drawing a shadow across the room without meaning to.

        As he lost himself in thought, Nezu continued speaking with Midoriya-san.

        Four days. It’s been four days, and Izuku still hadn’t gotten up the courage to walk up and talk to Iida. The looks that Aizawa keep sending him in class definitely haven’t been helping, since they leave Izuku terrified of what’s to come. With the slander that Yuuei has been getting out of his stunt at the Sports Festival, he wouldn’t be surprised if they had to give him some sort of punishment, or release a statement saying that he was being dealt with appropriately. At first, he’d thought they weren’t going to do anything. Over the last few days, though, All Might had been acting suspiciously aloof and Aizawa had been glaring at him. People are staring at him in the halls, too. Students have been talking behind his back, leaving random swirls of rising violin for him to walk through.

        Everyone was staring at him, it seemed. Only lunch with Uraraka had been helping, but even that had finally started to break down. She’d taken off without talking to him earlier to go and sit with Kirishima and Bakugō’s group… or it would be Bakugō’s group, if Bakugō weren’t strangely absent from the cafeteria today.

        Without much thought, he let himself relax into a meditative state. Eventually, the white noise faded, leaving him leaning over his half-eaten lunch wrapped in silence. A deep breath filled his lungs, and as he let it out, he opened himself to the music. In his mind, Izuku stood on a single rock between the sand and the ocean, his own personal platform raising him out of the musical rhapsody of high school heroes.

        His fingers twitched. So far, he’d practiced using his hands. But he couldn’t do that in the cafeteria, not without risk of being discovered. Quietly, Izuku frowned. One for All hummed deep within his chest, active but not rushing through his veins quite yet. Not quite yet…

        A song pushed out of the mess, breaking Izuku’s concentration. He groaned silently as he opened his eyes, finding a small group of class 1-B students standing beside his table.

        “Midoriya Izuku, right? The boy who got second in the Sports Festival.” Monoma Neito smirked down at him, barely hiding the disgust on his face. The pair beside him, a quiet girl Izuku remembered as Yui Kodai and a blonde named Tsuburaba Kosei, looked down at him with feigned disinterest at least. Even though their songs were interesting, Monoma’s caught Izuku’s ear. Picking out the quirk, it was easy to tell who Monoma was. But the quirk, amazing as it was, was nearly drowning in the mess of Monoma’s emotions.

        Izuku looked up and met Monoma’s eye with a carefully neutral expression, silencing his quirk in favor of talking to them without any sort of setbacks.

        “…What, not even going to say anything?” Monoma’s smirk turned to a sneer. “Maybe you’re too good for us in 1-B? Or perhaps you’re finally showing your true colors and now no one wants to be around you…?”

        “…Y-You already knew my name, a-and I remember you…” Izuku managed weakly. He turned his eyes to his tray instead of looking up at Monoma, trying to ignore the rapidly changing emotions in the other boy. “Can I help you with something? If you’d like to sit, please go…”

        “I would never sit with someone like you.” Monoma growled. Izuku sighed.

        He knew this tune all too well. Slowly, he pushed his tray aside and got up. A few people had noticed, and people were starting to move now. Their attention beat against Izuku’s skull like drops of water sending ripples out across the ocean of souls, spreading slowly but evenly.

        “This really isn’t the place to start a fight, Monoma-san.” Izuku muttered. Monoma arched an eyebrow.

        “What, you think you can take three of us all at once? That’s pretty bold!” Monoma’s voice was loud enough now that people weren’t just looking, they were actually bristling. Water droplets turned to whispers of metal on whetstone, capping the waves of the cafeteria like seafoam. “Class A really is arrogant, huh? I’m not here to fight. I’m just wondering, how does it feel to have your little plan stop at second place?”

        “P-plan…?” Izuku’s eyes widened. “Wait, I didn’t have a plan…”

        “So, what, you just let your quirk screw with the national broadcast to try and overshadow everyone? Were you trying to grab all the glory for yourself?” Monoma grinned as the whispers spread. Izuku panicked when he watched Uraraka and Kirishima stand up, looking angrier than he’d seen them in a while.

        “I was just doing my best in the Sports Festival, like everyone else.” Izuku swallowed, trying to wet his suddenly tight throat. “I didn’t mean for things to go badly. Honestly, I’ve never been recorded with my quirk before, so how was I supposed to know?”

        “You have a hallucinogenic quirk and you never thought to test how it looked in a video? What kind of idiot do you take us for, class A?”

        “My name is Midoriya!” Izuku snapped. Monoma blinked and Izuku let out a long breath through his nose. The cafeteria was quiet for a moment. Standing there was almost like using his quirk, he thought. Caught in a vacuum between their souls or their eyes, there was silence. No one kept Izuku close enough for there to be music in the void, besides the weak, insistent beat of his own song. After a breath, Izuku took a step back (when had he stepped up and squared up to Monoma, he wondered? Had he been that mad?) and ran his eyes over the crowd.

        Izuku bowed from the waist, stopping at shoulder level.

        A ripple spread out from those who could see.

        “I’m sorry. For what my quirk did to the broadcast, and that everyone was caught up in it. I swear that I never meant to hurt Yuuei’s reputation or dishonor the event in any way. Giving it my all meant doing what I could, and I wasn’t prepared for the illusions to go so far. Please forgive my mistakes.” His voice cracked on the last words. The cafeteria was quiet as Izuku rose, fighting back tears. Without looking to his classmates, Izuku turned and walked out of the cafeteria, fighting to keep his shoulders from drooping.

        The classroom wasn’t empty. Iida would be there, which left Izuku with nowhere to go for the remainder of lunch. Following old habits, he locked himself in a bathroom stall near his classroom and melted as much as he could against the wall. When the bell rang, he shuffled out and made it back to the room, careful to extinguish himself as much as possible. People filed in to the room, ignoring his desk as he pretended to sleep. Quiet filled the room until it pressed against the walls and started beating against Izuku’s ears.

        Izuku heard it coming. His perception had increased enough that he could feel out a little bit into the hallway, even with the door shut, and the song coming his way was so rich that the music penetrated the walls by at least a meter on every side like a blue cloudbank on the horizon.

        Aizawa’s song usually remained quiet, sleeping while he didn’t activate his quirk. When Izuku heard the man coming, he froze up. The sound coming down the hallway was something like a hungry lion stalking down the hallway, if the lion could roar like a black hole or peer at you with the eyes of death. Each step was like shattering glass, spilling angry string chords down the hallway in every direction. Hot, angry metal ground against an anvil as the man reached for the door, slamming it open like a hammer over the flat of a blade.

        “Midoriya. Get out here.” Aizawa growled, eyes all but glowing with barely suppressed rage. Izuku shrank beneath the glare, slipped on his backpack and shuffled towards the door. The silence from before was gone, replaced by a delicate icy fear. Out in the hallway, Blood King stood with Monoma and Kendo, the class rep from class B. Without asking, Izuku shrank beneath the hero’s gaze, flinching when a hand gripped his shoulder. “We’re going to the teacher’s room, and then Monoma is going to tell his story again.”

        “Yes sensei.” Izuku murmured. He kept his eyes on the floor and his quirk dead silent on the way, praying that whatever he’d done wasn’t enough to break the camel’s back. With Aizawa angrier than Izuku had ever seen him, he wasn’t entirely sure the man wouldn’t transform into the cosmic beast that Izuku saw within the man’s soul. Once the five of them had shut the door and found a place to stand, now under the eyes of every teacher who wasn’t watching their students, Aizawa spoke again.

        “Monoma.” Izuku flinched at the bite in the man’s tone. Monoma did too, following Izuku’s example of eyes locked on the floor.

        “I ambushed Midoriya-kun while he was alone eating lunch and asked him if the things that people were saying online were true.” He growled. The girl beside him sighed and elbowed him roughly. “I… may have taken two of my classmates just in case he tried…”

        “Enough.” Aizawa snapped. Even Blood King looked surprised at that one. Izuku shuffled away from the man for a moment, watching as Aizawa stared down the shorter boy. “If I asked the students in my class, would they call it harassment, Monoma?”

        “I… Obviously they would. It’s class A versus my word…!”

        “Monoma.” Aizawa’s voice left a layer of frost through the room, and Monoma paled.

        “I… may have upset him by accident.”

        “That is not an answer.” Aizawa growled.

        “Aizawa. That’s enough.” Vlad King placed a gentle hand on the man’s chest, pressing him back. Vlad sighed, then set a hand on Monoma’s shoulder. “We already have Kendo’s testimony. Will you ask your class, or should I?”

        “… You go. I’ll deal with mine. Take him with you, or else I’ll make sure and handle his detention myself.” Aizawa growled, glaring down at Monoma with full bloodlust on display. Izuku shivered as the three of them left the room, though Kendo paused and offered a small apologetic glance. When Aizawa spun and looked at him, Izuku snapped to attention. “Relax, Midoriya.”

        “S-sensei…” Izuku muttered, keeping his eyes on the floor.

        “Don’t you dare ask. If I hear you ask if you’re in trouble, for anything at all, I will have you cleaning the entire freshman hallway for punishment.” Aizawa droned. Izuku swallowed and nodded. “Good. Now. What happened in the cafeteria?”

        “I… I was eating alone, at a table, and Monoma-san came up and asked if I was better than class B and then… he started talking about my ‘plan’ and how I was arrogant thinking I could fight them all…” Izuku’s eyes widened when he realized what he’d said. “W-wait, I wasn’t trying to fight, sensei, I swear…!”

        “I know, Midoriya.” Aizawa growled. “Continue.”

        “H-he… um, Monoma started saying that class A was arrogant and that I didn’t understand my quirk and… I got mad, I guess, and I interrupted him… I told him that my name was Midoriya, since he kept saying class A, and it wasn’t fair for everyone to get caught up in my mistakes, and then it got really quiet. I know people have been thinking I did something to the Festival on purpose. I apologized… and I left.” Izuku sighed.

        “Did he initiate the conversation?” Aizawa asked. Izuku nodded. “Did he cut you off several times or did he give you time to offer your side?”

        “H-he, um, he cut me off a… once or twice, maybe.” Izuku muttered. Aizawa sighed, shutting his eyes and breathing out through his nose. The door slid open behind them, and Blood King came back into the room.

        “I talked to a Uraraka and Kirishima. They said that they didn’t see the start, but they saw Monoma standing at Midoriya’s table and interrupting him, shouting to the entire cafeteria about class A being arrogant and Midoriya trying to sabotage the Festival…” Vlad King groaned. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that kid. Taking public slander and starting a mess like this, what was he thinking.”

        “Let me be clear, Vlad.” Aizawa stood up, taking his hands from his pockets and grabbing Izuku by the shoulder. “Midoriya, more than anyone else in my class, is under my watch. If I hear about this sort of thing again, I’ll push for suspension of your students, however many are involved.”

        “That’s a bit…”

        “I’ll explain later. When Nezu decides that this is the business of the staff.” Aizawa cut him off, opening the door and glaring at the other teacher over his shoulder. Izuku continuously tried shrinking into his uniform, hoping to melt from pure shame. “For now, just know that anyone going after Midoriya is going on my personal watch list.”

        “Fine then. I’ll make sure to keep them reigned in.” Vlad sighed as Aizawa dragged Izuku out of the room.

        “S-sensei, I’m really not…”

        “Quiet. This has gone on long enough.”

        Izuku flinched at the way he said it. As they drew closer and closer to Nezu’s office, the pit in his gut grew deeper and deeper with every passing moment. The door slammed open, revealing Nezu sitting at the table he used to entertain guests over in the corner, and the principal barely looked up as Aizawa gently pushed Izuku towards the table. Behind them, the door clicked shut, sealing his fate.

        He sat down in the offered chair, shaking his head as Nezu offered him tea and Aizawa moved to stand beside the table.

        “Principal. Midoriya’s internship is going to be with me here at Yuuei.”

        Izuku snapped upright, staring up at his teacher. Nezu grinned across the table, sipping from his tea.

        “That’s perfectly fine, since you’re his homeroom teacher, but what about the other one?”

        “I plan on testing the other one during that week, but I’ll see to Midoriya’s training for the majority of the time. Besides, All Might will be here, and he’ll be able to do some standing in.” Aizawa stated. Nezu nodded.

        “Of course, of course. Without any offers for the internships, Midoriya-kun was set to pick from our usual sponsors. And I’m sure that the other faculty members will be ecstatic to hear about this. Thirteen-kun has expressed an interest in Midoriya-kun’s abilities already.” The principal said evenly. Izuku glanced back and forth between them, openly gaping.

        “W-wait, wasn’t I…?”

        “Midoriya.” He snapped his jaw shut as Aizawa’s eyes began to glow. “What I said earlier still stands.”

        “Yes sensei.” Izuku muttered.

        “Now, about the other matter.” Nezu set down his teacup with a clink, shifting back into his seat and crossing his paws. “Midoriya-kun. I’d like to have a chat about your quirk.”

        “Principal.” Aizawa cut in, drawing Nezu’s eyes. “One of the class B students caught Midoriya during lunch and harassed him. I’m telling you now that both Recovery Girl and I will be pursuing suspensions for anyone who gets caught singling Midoriya out. To keep it fair, I’ll do the same for every student in my class, or the other classes, who end up suffering discrimination. This is non-negotiable.”

        “I support that decision whole-heartedly.” Nezu chirped. “I’ll support it, when the situation demands it. We have reason to, for now.”

        Izuku stared at the table.

        “Midoriya-kun.” Nezu said, turning his attention back to Izuku, “We would like to talk to you about your quirk, and about your medical file. Have you ever seen the reports that they took back during your first diagnosis?”

        “I… Yes, I remember.” Izuku frowned. “The EEGs, right?”

        “Yes. At this point, I think your quirk is a radical mutation on an empathy quirk. Since empathy quirks and illusion quirks don’t usually result in such a dramatic effect, we’d like to get some more information about how it works and the effects it has on others.”

        Izuku swallowed, gripping his knees to try and keep from shaking.

        “I don’t understand.” Izuku muttered. “Wouldn’t that just be more training?”  

        “It would be. But your quirk seems to have blended all five of your senses into a sixth sense, one that no medical field has actually documented before. It wouldn’t be more than a few tests on people over the course of the week, but I’m sure Recovery Girl would appreciate the information. Currently, we will see to your training as we would anyone else.” Nezu said. Izuku nodded. His dread was still pooled in his mouth, leaving him afraid to say anything and confused as to what was happening. “Now that we’ve settled that, let me make this official. You are not going to suffer any sort of backlash from the Sports Festival. Our position is that the broadcast could not deal with your quirk, and one of our promising students exceeded their limits on national television.”

        “Oh.” Izuku’s voice cracked around the word. Nezu offered him a smile.

        “That’s not all, Midoriya.” The dread returned in full force as Izuku glanced up at his homeroom teacher. “It’s about time we got some answers about a few things. The old lady and I dug up a few things that I want to talk to you about.”

        Izuku’s eyes widened as Aizawa peered down over the capture weapon.

        “Let’s talk about you being quirkless.”

Chapter Text

          Chpt 7: Projection, Perception, (Ap)prehension.

       Eyes are the Windows of our Soul… Do our Stains (Scars) make us unique?

       Izuku heard the beginnings of it a block away. Notes fluttered through the air like dying moths, pouring out of the apartment building’s upper levels and the stairwells like a thin sheen of oil. A fresh headache bloomed at the base of his skull when he took his first steps toward home, pushing through the quiet keening. This was what he’d spent the past… six years or so avoiding. Aizawa had thought he was being dramatic, but they still didn’t seem to understand what they’d done.

       He paused in front of the door to the apartment. Right in front of the door, where he could feel everything trapped within the apartment, he sighed and laid his forehead against the wood.

       The sound was something like an aria... Only the voice wasn’t that of a person. If someone had taken an opera singer’s greatest tragedy, frozen in a mirror, and broken the glass then the sound trapped inside may have sounded vaguely like the tearstained misery pouring from the crack beneath the door. Watery harps and keystrokes filled the rest, enough to turn an entire hall to tears.

       Everyone but Izuku. The music scraped across his skin like saltwater instead of tears, just enough to sting and leech his body heat. He snorted softly as he grabbed the door and wrenched it open.

       All this time and I should be happy it’s finally out. Now I’m upset I can’t even cry about it?

       Chemical smells wafted out of the apartment. Apparently, she’d spent the day cleaning. Izuku wagered a guess that they’d called and told her that they’d confronted him.

       How did I not notice? Izuku nudged his shoes into place against the wall and stared at his feet for a moment. Even keeping my quirk locked down like this, how could I not pay attention to how much she’s been hurting…?

       He’d gotten into the habit of avoiding meals and sneaking what leftovers he could out of the fridge at some point before bed. They hadn’t eaten dinner together on Tuesday, or the day before, since he was sneaking through the kitchen later. Not so much sneaking as just… not announcing himself. Being quiet was a virtue that helped with his quirk immensely, at the end of the day, though he’d spent most of his life without the choice.

       When did I start paying more attention to songs than I did people? Now that I can control it all, I can’t just....

       She was staring down at her teacup when he turned the corner. The way she smiled didn’t bother hiding anything, but it was a try. An offering. Izuku swallowed the pain blocking his throat and walked over, slipping into the chair across from her.

       Inko looked exhausted. Her hair was pulled back, as always, but a few stray hairs were sticking out from her ears, as if she’d spent most of the day smoothing it over. Extra lines ran beneath her eyes, with traces of red along her fingers and her forehead.

       Worse than anything, her song was one the verge of breaking entirely. It shuddered like glass with every note, pulled tight and wobbling off key. The candlelight flared up like a bonfire, causing finger-snaps right beside his ears while shredded paper wings scraped against one another and left streaks of moth-dust across his cheeks. Long, warped squeals danced through the room as she wrung her hands, eyes locked solely on him. Despite the screaming anxiety, she didn’t look entirely uncomfortable or crazed. Her eyelids hung over her dull green eyes, blinking with too much purpose for her to have finished the cleaning a long time ago.

       “I heard what happened…” Inko sighed, trying and failing to smile. “Do you, um… I mean, would you maybe like to tell me about it? Or we don’t have to, if you feel like you aren’t ready, or you don’t want to, that’s fine too.”

       Izuku sighed, letting a shudder run down his spine. A wave of burning nerves chased it down as he slumped into the chair.

       “I knew about what everyone was saying,” He said quietly, weighing and carefully rolling each word before he spoke, “Um. It was one of the students in another class. Normally… Or, I used to sit with some people from my class, so… maybe he just caught me alone. It’s not a big deal, I think. Aizawa-sensei was really mad, but I just...”

       Izuku’s throat tightened before he could say it.

       Not because of what he had to say next, or because of how his mother’s song ground against his heart. Part of him had steeled itself long before he’d gotten home.

       “I just really think…” Izuku frowned as his voice cracked around the words. Forcing hurt his throat, and the tears were already coming no matter how hard he forced them back. On impulse, he pressed his quirk out and weighed the world around him into silence. After a few moments, he managed to collect himself. “…I’m really sorry, Mom.”

       “Izu-” Inko’s eyes welled with fresh tears. “You don’t, Izuku it’s not like that baby… You don’t have to apologize…!”

       Izuku swallowed against the tightness in his throat, and he offered a bit of a smile.

       “They, um… they gave me tomorrow off, is that okay? Or, if it’s not I can still go to class, that way you don’t need to worry…”

       “No, Izuku, you can stay.” Inko stood and shuffled around the table, pulling him into a hug.

       You really can’t hear it. Izuku shut his eyes to fight against the burn. He felt his mother press a kiss onto his hair and he buried his face in her arm. None of you can hear it, so why do I have to?

       Laughter and sobs mixed within his mind as he felt his mother start to cry. His single bit of good news was that he’d held out against Nezu, and no one at the school seemed to realize the truth yet.

       Why did someone else think it was okay to use me to break your heart again?

       None of that saved him once the door was shut and no one could see him break down. He’d learned a long time ago how to cry without making noise.

       Kyōka frowned when Aizawa walked into the room, looking about as angry as he’d been the day before. When he slammed a folder down on the podium, silence blanketed the room. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was breathing down her neck, but there was still nothing. An entire week without the static fuzzing her ears had worn on her nerves more than she’d thought.

       “Before any of you ask,” Aizawa growled, “Midoriya’s absence is excused today for family reasons. However, just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean I plan to ignore what happened yesterday.’

       His eyes glowed faintly as he ran them over the crowd. Kyōka frowned.

       “Yesterday, one of the students from class 1-B accosted Midoriya in the lunchroom. From what other students have said, nearly every student in this room was within earshot, and not a single one of you did anything.” Aizawa leaned over the podium and narrowed his eyes until the intensity of his glare made Kyōka shiver in her desk. “You all watched while your classmate was singled out and accused harshly enough that his only way to escape was to submit to his attacker and humble himself in front of your school.”

       The words hung in the air for a moment. Kyōka had watched, of course. She’d been sitting with Momo and Kaminari, and she’d had a perfect view of Midoriya trying to leave. Watching him walk out had left her feeling miserable and confused. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

       “In normal schools, this sort of incident might be written off. At Yuuei, too, normally we wouldn’t put so much stress on something like this. But one of your classmates has been alienated by the media, and now his life here at the school has been called into question. Which leaves me wondering if anyone in this room has any right to be a hero at all.” Aizawa’s voice dropped like a gavel.

       “W-wait a sec!” Kaminari stood up, frantically staring at their teacher, “You can’t expel us for not doing anything! It wasn’t a fight or a group hazing! If it had been just a talk, we’d have gotten involved for nothing!”

       “Are you going to pretend you didn’t hear, Kaminari?” Aizawa glowered until Kaminari sat down with a weak thud, shaking in his chair. “Regardless of what I think, that same line of reasoning means that your teachers are just as suspect for letting things reach this point in the first place. So I’ll be blunt, and perfectly honest with all of you.”

       Aizawa held up the folder in his hand and slapped the cover.

       “This is a series of revisions to Yuuei policy. The Principal and I are presenting this to the faculty over the course of the next week. From this point forward, anyone who’s caught in a situation involving discrimination, purposeful alienation or public humiliation will be suspended, immediately and indefinitely, while we determine whether or not there were circumstances that should allow that student to return.” Aizawa’s eyes fell on Kaminari. “You all are supposed to be heroes. How do you intend to save lives if you will allow someone to be ridiculed or publicly humiliated right before your eyes?”

       Kyōka frowned as something in her gut twisted miserably.

       “On Monday you’ll head off to your internships.” Aizawa growled, slipping the folder under his arm and moving back towards the door. “Do as you like for homeroom today but expect that things will be different when you all come back. Think about the types of hero you want to be while you’re out there following the pros. It might be the last glimpse you ever get of the industry.”

       Kyōka sighed as their teacher stalked out of the room. Everyone looked especially drained from the talk, and Kaminari was shaking.

       “Man, what is it with Midoriya?” the blonde groaned. Kyōka frowned, throwing a glance across the room and noting who looked in his direction. “Every time that guy does something it blows up in all the wrong ways!”

       “Sounds like you’re just upset that going all out leaves you kinda dumb,” Sero snickered.

       A tiny snort from across the room caught Kyōka’s ear, drawing her eyes from the new argument. Bakugō had spent the entire week being quiet, even if his anger seemed set to smolder. Some of their classmates braced for the impact, but nothing else happened. Bakugō began studying, of all things, and the room fell into an awkward storm of whispers and muttering.

       Shōta paused halfway between his classroom and the teacher’s lounge. Part of him wanted to expel every single one of them and then submit his resignation to Nezu. Lingering rage still left his blood stinging his veins with every heartbeat. When the burn finally ran out, he kept walking, ever conscious of the file in his hand. He only paused again when he reached the door, listening to the argument going on inside.

       He opened the door, staring at the tiny old man inside the teachers lounge.

       “What is this, Toshinori, some kind of sick joke?!” the old man’s cane smacked into All Might’s leg hard enough that the hero flinched. Shōta bit back a smirk, staring down at the old man’s hero costume. “First you ask me to look after him, and now he’s not available? Did you get scared or something, you pathetic little…”

       “Whoever you are,” Aizawa cocked an eyebrow as the old man half turned and glared at him, “Assaulting the symbol of peace is a bold move. Mind telling me what kind of blackmail you have that lets you get away with that?”

       “Way above your paygrade, Eraserhead.” The old man huffed. “This dumbass called me up for a favor, only to revoke the option once I got moving. If you’ll excuse us, this is a bit sensitive.”

       “Is it about Midoriya?” Shōta narrowed his eyes at All Might, keenly aware of how the gaunt giant shuffled beneath the pressure. “Because if it is, All Might didn’t have anything to do with that. Midoriya is my student, and he’s interning with me. That’s final.”

       “Oh?” The old man grinned wolfishly. “Sorry to say, young ‘un, but my claim on that boy is older than the kid himself. Mind handing over the forms?”

       “How about you tell me what’s going on with Midoriya and All Might that gives you the ability to poach my students from me?” Shōta met the old man’s glare full force. Eventually, the old man broke away and groaned.

       “That’s how it is, then? Fine. But since I already came all the way up here, don’t think that I’m just going to up and leave.” The grin returned, and the old man wacked All Might on the leg without even looking. Shōta had to suppress a chuckle. “Having an extra pair of hands wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

       Midoriya didn’t show up on Monday, either. Kyōka and Ochako shared a concerned glance (Momo didn’t look happy either, which is odd) and Kaminari got stabbed in the arm for asking what’s got her so ‘flustered’.

       As if Midoriya could get her flustered.

       He’s… too flashy for that.

       Izuku wasn’t surprised to find Nezu waiting for him at the gate. The principal fell into step with him easily, creeping towards his leg and then up his shoulder without a word. Students stared at them openly, until Izuku could imagine the sounds without using his quirk at all.

       “You’ll be meeting your teachers in the lounge before you start.” Nezu chirps as they reached the stairs. Izuku nodded, keeping a tight leash on his tongue.

       Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask… His teeth grind a bit as he starts down the right hallway.

       “You seem to have a much better hold on your quirk, Midoriya-kun. There’s almost no leakage at all.” Nezu hummed.

       Izuku sighed, “I’ve, um… been working on my control.”

       “Of course, of course. How does one go about training a quirk like yours? To achieve such control in only two months is a feat for a quirk such as yours.”

       Izuku wished he could hear the principal’s song. On campus, Nezu was one of the more interesting songs, and the distance had always kept Izuku from getting a closer look. Using Soul Song, though, would mean that the principal could read him. Nezu wasn’t someone Izuku wanted close. The principal was fishing for answers, and the brief glimpses that Izuku had gotten told him that giving the principal too much information was dangerous.

       “Meditation, mostly.” Izuku muttered, digging a hand under the strap of his bag.

       “Practicing meditation at your age is an incredible feat. The minds of adolescents are constantly changing, after all. It must be very difficult to maintain that state of calm.” Nezu hummed. Izuku sighed as he caught the glint in the principal’s eye.

       “No actually.” Izuku said, pausing as he stopped in front of the teacher’s lounge. The principal hopped from his shoulder, folding his paws behind his back as he waited. “Meditating isn’t that difficult anymore.”

       “You’re an interesting person, Midoriya-kun.” Nezu chuckled. “You know I have access to your therapy and your training regiments, yes? Hiding your quirk from me won’t do you much good.”

       “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Principal-sama.” Izuku sighed, barely sparing a glance at the creature. “I’m just practicing. Calling it hiding makes me sound cunning.”

       “Yes, I suppose it does doesn’t it? Maybe I was wrong.” The principal chirped as he walked down the hall, waving over his shoulder as he left. “But being afraid makes a person very good at hiding, Midoriya-kun!”

       “Good thing you don’t know what fear sounds like.” Izuku murmured. Only once the principal was far enough out of his reach did he soften his control and let the music of Yuuei flow through him.

       Without the hero course students, there was a much less vibrant air in the building. Some of the older students, songs he knew only from the brief contact he made with them through walls, were still buzzing, drawing his attention. But without the constant hum, he could pick out the gen ed and support students. Mei was there, and the rattling chains(snakes) from Shinso’s class. Other students, more he knew only by songs, stuck out now. None of them enough that he did more than brush over their songs, but they were there. If his class had been on campus, the sounds would have drowned out just about every one of them.

       Izuku snorted as one of Bakugō’s old slurs slipped through his mind.

       From beyond the door were a few of the teachers, some he knew some he didn’t. One of them, a tired melody played mostly off woodwinds, stuck out. It wasn’t one he knew from his daily routine, and there were two sounds that he knew all too well buried in the song. All Might’s sunshine, as well as the purple song he felt buried in the fragments of One for All, and a deep, lingering misery that dragged the man down to earth. He hated hearing that song. Of all the ones he could put a name to, he hated that one the most.

       When he opened the door, he paused. A tiny old man blinked back at him, and a quiet, curious sound rang in the air between them. The old man narrowed his eyes at Izuku immediately.

       “Eh, you’re a joker huh?” The cane hit the floor as hot, dry whispers coursed through the old man. “Let’s see if you can back it up!”

       My quirk… It’s been a while since I did that by accident. Izuku blinked. An odd tingling sensation washed across his mind as he refocused and unfocused his eyes. The ‘partial void’ mindset he’d been training for the past week left him almost dead to the world, save for his sight and the familiar sensation of One for All’s core running through his muscles.

       Noise brushed against his shoulder a moment before the old man burst off the ground and tore through that spot. Quietly, Izuku let his song push out against the walls, filling the space until he could feel the old man’s motion, from the corner across to the cabinet and then…

       Izuku stepped to the right just as the old man’s foot hit the floor where he’d been standing. The motion was small, a half step and a twirl, but it was enough.

       Then they were off again.

       Dry, hot wind over chords left them barely humming at all. The melody was quiet, like trees rustling beneath the shrill cry of insects in autumn. Clusters of dried bamboo barked as the pieces knocked against one another in the breeze. But the wind howled around the corners and burned with the thick heat of twilight. Steady, thick rasps of metal traced every move, leaving a sour tinge of dry humor in the song. A deep, cloying woodwind chased the wind like an oppressing evening heat and long shadows.

       Right, left, up, right, straight, behind, right…

       He didn’t really think about it. An arm shot out as the man came barreling at him. The burst of air shot through where he’d been standing, and the old man was already moving when the arm Izuku had used for the grab swung around to hit the small of his back.

       “Both of you, stop it!” All Might was coughing behind the old man. Izuku blinked when he saw how much blood his mentor had coughed up during the fight, even if it had only been…

       How long had it been?

       “Good grief, you’re both so energetic today.” All Might coughed again. Izuku flinched at the pleading look on his face. “This is a teacher’s lounge! You can’t just start a fight here! We have facilities for that!”

       “Sorry, sensei.” Izuku muttered, losing the grip on his trance entirely. The old man continued staring until Izuku straightened his frown into a grimace and met the old man’s expression with an even stare. “…I’m sorry for my quirk. It’s a bit cheeky sometimes.”

       “You’re telling me that was your quirk? Where were all the flashy illusions you’re supposed to be throwing around?” The old man barked. Izuku sank further into his uniform and sighed in exasperation.

       “That’s complicated.” Was all he said. The old man scoffed.

       “You’re a weird one, that’s for sure. Where’s your backbone, kid? Aren’t you supposed to be some flashy, arrogant son of a bitch?” The old man cocked an eyebrow and a grin at him.

       Izuku was never so glad to feel Aizawa’s song, still simmering even days after their talk, stalking through the halls towards Nezu’s office.

       “If you don’t mind…” Izuku glanced at the teachers who were still staring at the three of them, the ones who weren’t involved in his internship, “could we head to the gym before Aizawa-sensei finds out I was wasting time here? I’d rather not get extra work-outs.”

       “Of course, young Midoriya!” All Might coughed once more, then buffed up and walked towards the door with the old man in tow, muttering under his breath.

       “What in the world did you stick me with, Toshinori…”

       Izuku sighed and followed them out.

       The repaired version of his suit looked good. His braces, the color, everything was improved from his first iteration. Only the ears felt a bit off, but he couldn’t really do much about that without changing the base more than he liked. A few pages of sketches lay on his desk at home, ideas that he crossed out or thought of improving with the new design as he changed and ran out to the gym near the field.

       Aizawa was on the way. He didn’t have much time after all.

       Gran Torino (whose name he’d needled out of All Might) was still looking at him funny. Izuku wasn’t sure if it was because of his trance fight earlier, or because he was… Izuku. Overall, he elected to ignore it for the sake of what he needed to do.

       He jogged across the gym and paused in front of All Might, ignoring Gran Torino entirely, and took a breath. All Might’s expression darkened, reading the situation for something.

       “All Might-sensei.” The man blinked in surprise at the address. It nearly made him pause, but the knot growing in his throat was dangerous. “I… I need to apologize.”

       “Young Midoriya, if this is about this past week, or about the festival, you don’t…”

       “No, it isn’t. Well… Not entirely.” Izuku broke in. All Might’s face looked… hurt. He hated that expression, but he’d been stewing in misery for a week. More wouldn’t kill him. “The Sports Festival made me realize something. At first, I wasn’t sure, but this week I think… I’ve come to terms with how things are.”

       Were you trying to grab all the glory for yourself?

       Your quirk is supposed to be useless…!

       Objectively, I’m better with my quirk than you are. I’m going to beat you today.

       You’ve got poor luck, boy. Put up a good show though.

       “I’m not fit to be a Symbol of Peace, All Might.” Izuku sighed. All Might’s eyes widened, and Gran Torino’s expression darkened. “No one wants to follow me or see me at out in front of them. My quirk is just too strange. You passed on One for All and told me that I could be the next greatest hero, but… truthfully, I never wanted to be number one. I only wanted to be a hero to save people. I know their pain more than anyone else.”

       “So, you’re giving it up? One for All?” Gran Torino may as well have spat the words at him. Izuku took a breath and pushed back the surge of anger.

       “Not unless All Might-sensei asks me to.” Izuku met his mentor’s eyes, refusing to let the burn in his own release the tears threatening him. “If you want to pass this on to someone more suited for the spotlight, then… I’ll make my own way. I’ll give my place here up so that they have a chance and prove myself with my own power.”

       “What are you going to do with One for All if you’re not going to be the Symbol of Peace?” Gran Torino narrowed his eyes. Izuku swallowed and straightened some.

       “I can’t be like All Might, but I can support them.” Izuku glanced towards the roof, out towards where Yuuei rose from the hill. “I can use this power you gave me to be there, on every battlefield, and I’ll support them with One for All until every single hero out there makes up a piece of your legacy.”

       Izuku pulled some of One for All, letting the sparks roll across his skin and through his eyes.

       “I’ll turn every hero in Japan into a Symbol of Peace, or I’ll die trying. And I’ll turn One for All into a quirk so powerful that the next wielder can be an even greater Symbol than you are now.”

       All Might’s eyes watered. Izuku tried his best not to cry, but the pain in his throat was enough that he choked. Gran Torino huffed and grinned at All Might’s side.

       “Where did you dig up this kid, Toshinori? First, he keeps up with my speed and now he tells me he isn’t worthy! This is a brat after my own heart.” Gran Torino’s cane shoved into Izuku’s ribs. “You better live up to that promise, brat, if you’re going to hold onto that power. One for All isn’t something to be taken lightly!”

       “What are you talking about? He’s still a brat, if you ask me.” Izuku sighed as Aizawa came trudging into the gym, glaring at him. “None of you are ready for the real world yet, even if you went and fought villains as first years.”

       “Ai-Aizawa-kun…!” All Might choked, spewing a little blood as he coughed in surprise.

       “Yes, All Might, I finally made it back. Every one of the brats was sent off properly. Though…” Aizawa’s glare returned to Izuku with a vengeance. “I was supposed to have this week off, problem child.”

       “You didn’t have to take me on, Sensei.” Izuku whined. The man snorted before moving to stand on All Might’s free side.

       “Like I’d leave my strongest student in someone else’s hands. If you go crazy again, I’ll make sure to cut off this crazy power of yours, got it?” Aizawa’s song growled at him, wordlessly backing up the statement. Izuku raised his hands in defeat, chuckling weakly.

       “And I’m here to give you the same treatment I gave this big idiot back in the day!” Gran Torino’s grin turned shark-like as he swung his cane near All Might’s knee. The hero barely dodged, though he shook and coughed a bit at the old man’s words. Izuku blinked, then grinned.

       That explains some things…

       “First, though.” Aizawa strode forward and placed a hand on Izuku’s head. “I want you to show me your quirk. How it affects people. Then, maybe, we’ll spar. Once everyone here understands what your quirk lets you see. And after that, you have a meeting with the therapist to get reacquainted.”

       Izuku blinked.

       Re… Reacquainted? A shudder ran down his spine.

       “I’ll admit I’m curious. Whatever this crazy quirk is, I’d appreciate being brought up to speed.” Gran Torino muttered, still eyeing Izuku as if he were some kind of prey animal. “You managed to dodge my blows earlier like you had precognition, and you’re not fast enough to keep up with me anyways. What gives brat?”

       Izuku glanced back and forth between them all, then shot an uneasy glance at his mentor. All Might was still looking at him with… an unreadable expression.

       “I, uh, that’s… can’t I just… explain it…?”

       “The principal himself has already complimented you on your misdirection skills, Midoriya.” Aizawa droned, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I made it clear that I’m not going to keep being misled about these things?”

       “I… But, it’s a very personal thing to see each other’s…”

       What, kid, you gonna show us everyone’s underwear?” Gran Torino barked and poked his cane at Izuku’s stomach. “Don’t act all squeamish. Your teacher just gave you an order, so get to work!”

       Shōta didn’t think it would be easy getting Midoriya to give up the details on his quirk. After everything was said and done, Nezu had all but forced him to agree with Midoriya’s deal back in the office. But the weight of three stares seemed to break down the boy’s resolve enough for them to work it out of him. The expressions, guilt, fear, anger, suspicion… everything that rolled across Midoriya’s face made Shōta want to vomit. Forcing his students out of their comfort zones was one thing. Pushing too far across their boundaries was another thing entirely.

       Not that this one made it easy to tell where the lines were.

       Even in the face of Nezu, the boy had kept at least one thing about his quirk from them. Something that Nezu seemed to think was painfully obvious and continued to elude both Shōta and Recovery Girl.

       “My quirk…” Shōta cocked an eyebrow at the boy’s ‘go to’ explanation, apparently enough of a warning that he stopped and sighed heavily. “My quirk is called Soul Song. It lets me hear the sounds of everyone’s soul like music, including their physical and emotional state, from birth up to a few seconds into the future. I can feel where people are going to be, which is how I avoided your attacks earlier, Gran Torino Sensei.”

       Shōta glanced over at the old man, who scratched his head in confusion.

       “Souls? What kind of nonsense is this?” The old man muttered. Midoriya rolled his eyes.

       “Why can’t anyone just take it for what it is…” The boy took a breath. “Look, I’ll just… do you have any questions?”

       “I have one.” All Might said quietly. “Your illusions. They aren’t like the music. What are they, exactly?”

       “Oh.” Midoriya frowned. “I think… I’m not sure, because before I was the only one who could see them. When my quirk first started, I couldn’t do anything more than hear the music. Eventually I started entering a sort of… trance state where I could experience the emotions more vividly. Those illusions are something like that.”

       Shōta frowned. The growth rate of Midoriya’s quirk didn’t really make sense, but there was a lot that didn’t make sense. What bothered him was, in the end, the same thing that Gran Torino was snorting at.

       Midoriya talked about these ‘souls’ so easily. He’d spent his entire life with them, almost. Were they supposed to accept the abstract so easily?

       “If it helps, think about it like this. My quirk lets me hear the music everyone is playing, right?” Midoriya waved his hands, half mumbling and half explaining while he ran his eyes over the three of them. “Emotions are chemicals in the brain, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t feel them like something more. Souls exist as… kind of like a memory. If you think of how someone makes you feel, then it’s not just one word, there’s a whole bunch of things. And our souls reflect that… er… Does that make any sense?”

       “You’re saying that your quirk takes peoples experiences and turns it into music, but why call it souls?” Shōta sighed. Midoriya’s expression turned grim.

       “It’s easy to think that it’s just emotions. But there’s health, too. What would you call it if you took someone’s health, their memories and their emotions and their life and bundled it all up into a single sound?” Midoriya’s eyes glinted sharply in the lights of the gym.

Shōta was still getting used to the fact that this student was… somehow grown up in more ways than most. Not entirely, maybe, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that Midoriya seemed more worldly than any other student he’d had to teach.

       “All right, so those illusions. They’re more intense forms of songs. How’d you make a lightshow out of this idiot then?” Gran Torino waved at All Might, and Shōta glanced at the old man curiously.

       “That’s…” Midoriya pursed his lips, then glanced at Shōta. “I didn’t know until recently, how to put it into words. But my memory is a part of my quirk. I remember every song I’ve ever heard, to a point. Which means that All Might’s song…”

       “You mimic it and play it?” All Might finished, earning a nod of understanding. “And you can adjust the levels of your power based on the power that your music is playing at, correct?”

       “Ah, sort of. They’re not entirely different.” Midoriya muttered, shooting a glance at Shōta. Shōta sighed and rolled his eyes.

       He was tired of being left out of the loop. But he wasn’t allowed to pry, either.

       “Can you just show us what your quirk is like already?” Shōta grumbled. Midoriya fidgeted.

       “I… I’m a bit worried. I’m not entirely sure what you want to know, and it’s really harsh on people who aren’t used to it.”

       “I want to see how you see it. The soul nonsense you keep spouting.” Shōta growled. “Can you show others what it’s like? Similar to how you induce the hallucinations?”

       “I can, but it’s hard on people.” Midoriya sighed.

       “We’re built tough, kid. Just get on with it.” Gran Torino barked enough that the kid flinched.

       “Look, this isn’t that type of tough…!”

       “Young Midoriya. Please.” All Might’s voice, for once, was soft. Shōta was actually a bit surprised that the man could read the room enough to use that sort of tone. “We’d like the chance to train you properly this week. That means exposing ourselves to this power, and I’m… very curious about how you perceive these things.”

       Midoriya swallowed.

       Oh for the love of… Shōta hissed as the boy’s resolve crumbled. Of course it’s All Might who gets it. Always All Might.

       “Okay, but… I want to try with Aizawa-sensei first.” Midoriya muttered. Shōta blinked in surprise, apparently the same as the other two. When no one said anything, Midoriya’s fidgeting grew worse and he began stuttering again. “I… um, I feel like, since he’s my internship teacher… and since he’s the one who’s been looking so hard… he deserves the full attention. And if it goes wrong, he can cancel my quirk.”

       “Whatever. Just hurry. We don’t have all day.” Gran Torino huffed.

       Shōta narrowed his eyes at the boy. Midoriya shrugged, then reached out a hand.

       “Whenever you’re ready, sensei.” He said. There was something in his eyes, something that Shōta wasn’t sure of. Not a look of betrayal, or anything negative. But it was too guarded for him to think that this was any kind of olive branch.

       He reached out and took the boy’s hand with a firm grip, watched his student close his eyes, and waited.

       The vertigo came for him, only to be quickly replaced by a brief tingling sensation that ran over his skin.

       When the floor fell out from under him, he didn’t even have time to scream.

       Midoriya’s hand disappeared. It wasn’t gone, the sensation of being gripped was keeping him suspending in the empty space around them. Something lapped at the edge of his mind, changing the darkness spreading out to green and red and pink and blue. His voice wouldn’t work, something that both terrified him and confirmed the detachment from reality. All around him, colorful emptiness spread out.

       No… something hummed in the shadows beneath him. Something deeper, that peered at him in a way eerily similar to the way he looked at his students. An old something that made the hair on the back of his neck rise and shiver.

       A growl surrounded him. He fell into a mess of brown, green and blue dust that erupted from nowhere and swirled with purpose that Shōta couldn’t fathom. For a brief moment he was trapped within the haze, blinking as points of light blinded him and flashes of hot and cold raced over his skin fast enough to burn…

       Sorry… Shōta blinked as Midoriya’s voice cut through the mess. He looked around, trying to find the source and missing it entirely. The cosmic shards were gone, leaving him alone in the void again. This isn’t the same for you and me. But… I think I’ve got it this time. Don’t worry, I’m just going to borrow your song.

       Light burst from a point of nothing, swelling in a mess similar to what had swallowed him a moment ago (had it been a moment? When had he arrived, how long had he…) until Shōta was staring into eyes that burned with the ferocity of dying stars.

       The mass of cosmic wrath twitched as it looked at him, and then it reared back and roared. He wasn’t afraid, but… staring down the beast’s throat was staring into the maw of a black hole. No sound accompanied the roar, even though the force ripple through him. It was a pure shockwave, something that dragged him towards the fangs and the half-formed pit that devoured anyone and anything daring to stand in its way.

       He was dragged away, until the song was faint and the beast faded into a writhing mass of music. Dust and heat ground against gold and silver and glass strings, similar to how…

       Exactly the same as the burn his quirk left in his eyes. Shōta gaped.

       That’s just one. Look around, Sensei. I can at least show you the rest, even if it isn’t the same… Shōta’s eyes followed the motion, past the two songs that swirled in bubbles close to the mirror Midoriya had given him and out towards…

       If he’d seen flames burn golden, or miniature stars, then they wouldn’t have had the same beauty as the ocean of Souls that stood off in the distance. Music wafted out, barely reaching him. All of the songs, melded together, reached him in pieces that stood out from each person. Clearly there was the song, one single massive orchestra that played according to all of them, and the individuals playing along unaware of the great body making them up.

       Bubbles surrounded each of them Some of them, at least. A few of the lights were wrapped in cobwebbed cloud wisps. Gray, smoky haze filled some, letting only a slight glimmer and a shred of song out. For as many lights, there were as many different barriers surrounding them, and even a few without any boundaries whatsoever. Only… the surface wasn’t hard, but more like an unseen edge of their influence, some louder or more widespread than others. Each song pushed through or skirted around the edges of each other according to their own strength or desire, and there were even a few songs close enough that they could slip in and form an entirely new soul just from being close to one another. Colors burned within them, not just gold or silvery white but greens and blues and reds and oranges, all changing and evolving in time as he stared at them.

       Shōta fell, and the flames grew too soft for him to see. Instead, his eyes turned and…

       Everything in the world burned. The same light gathered up into one, all across the city. On the edge of Midoriya’s range, a hazy mass of luminescent music, half fire half glass, swirled like the edge of a sunset over the ocean.

       In the darkness, Shōta felt very small.

       The sensation was the same one he’d felt in the Sports Festival Finals. Being in two places at once, trapped within the void and staring at his own reflection looking up out of the ocean.

       Do you always feel this way when you use your quirk? Shōta wondered. A small, painful laugh rang out quietly in the emptiness of the void.

       No. But this is the easiest place for me to think, or to see them.

       Shōta hummed, then drifted in the hold of Midoriya’s quirk. Then he turned his eyes back to the emptiness, where he could feel All Might’s golden sunshine glowing and Gran Torino’s dry, tired woodwind growling.

       Where’s your song, Midoriya? Shōta spun, looking through the emptiness. He’d seen his own song billow out of the nether… But if he had it right, shouldn’t he have been closest to Midoriya? For the first time, no response came. Moments passed before he felt himself trying to claw at his throat, just to make any sort of sound.

       Shōta blinked, staring down at the green haired youth before him.

       “Something the matter, Eraser?” Gran Torino’s growl had almost no heat to it, for the first time in a while. He blinked, looking over the two heroes and their concerned looks.

       “I… No. How long did that take?” Shōta dug his hands into his hair, then his eyes. Everything in his chest, all the parts of him he tried not to get involved with, ached heavily.

       “About five minutes, Sensei.” Midoriya muttered. Shōta blinked at him in surprise. “Sorry… time is hard there. And it took a long time to figure out how to show you.”

       Shōta almost had time to ask before Midoriya turned to the other heroes, extending a hand. The pair took his invitation all too quickly, and soon he was left watching the three of them stand with closed eyes. It was fair to say that Midoriya’s quirk didn’t take time seriously. Whatever happened, it happened fast and drowned whoever was affected. But there was something else.

       His student had eluded him again, apparently. Within the ache, Shōta couldn’t help feeling like he’d missed what was right in front of him again.

       Izuku glanced back and forth from Recovery Girl to the woman in the chair. He frowned at the old woman as he walked forward and offered a small bow to the therapist he was supposed to be seeing.

       “Hello. Thank you for meeting with me today.” He muttered. A small smile broke across the woman’s face. Izuku scanned her briefly, noting the short dark-brown fur that stood out instead of pale skin. Rabbit ears stuck out of her hairdo by some, though it seemed that the fur and ears were the most obvious of her transformative aspects. Everything else seemed human. “Um… Recovery Girl, are you…?”

       “I’m sitting in.” She nodded, looking at him sternly. “You might have gotten away with that deal, but don’t you think for a second that I’m just going to let you destroy yourself to save others some discomfort.”

       “Eh… right.” Izuku sighed, glancing at the therapist’s awkward smile and noting the way her eyes darted between his chair and Recovery Girl’s. “So, um… is this about my quirk, then?”

        “No, Midoriya-kun, not entirely.” The woman sighed, suddenly radiating happiness at the change of topic. “My name is Nousagi, and I am a fully trained therapist. Your teachers have made it clear that you’ve spent a long time struggling, and this is about giving you someone to talk to. Recovery Girl is here because she’s a medical professional, someone who can help decide whether or not medication is on the table given your unique quirk adaptations.”

       “Oh.” Izuku frowned. “I… Never thought of that.”

       “Some people don’t think that medication is for them, or various other problems…” The woman nodded. “But first, I’d like for us to get to know one another and for…”

       She paused, then smiled softly, “You’d prefer to start somewhere else?”

       Izuku had barely raised his hand at all, but he smiled sheepishly at her offer and swallowed his nervousness.

       “Um. Did… Did the Principal tell you anything about my quirk? Or… my history with therapists?” He fidgeted, glancing at the stiff frown on Recovery Girl’s face. Nousagi-san frowned a bit.

       “They mentioned that you spent a few years seeing therapists who gave you an incorrect diagnosis. But otherwise, I haven’t seen anything other than your original quirk documents.”

       “R-right. Okay.” Izuku sighed. “Um, I want to ask… Can I use my quirk? To listen to your song, I mean. Just… that’s the quickest way for me to get to know you, I think. And then I can start by explaining my quirk. For Recovery Girl that would be fastest, I think.”

       Nousagi-san blinked, then took a breath.

       “Is your quirk invasive, Midoriya-kun?”

       “No! No, not… not at all, but it’s… It can show me personal experiences. Not how they happened, or why or… it focuses on what a person feels. I wouldn’t ever go that deep, but I just, it’s usually how I…” Izuku dug a hand through his hair, tugging as panic coursed through his veins.

       “Midoriya-kun, please calm down.” Nousagi-san gave him a pained look until he moved his hands to the armrests of his chair. “I’m not worried for myself. I’m worried about what types of things people with invasive quirks might find out growing up.”

       A nervous, weak laugh escaped him, followed by a hiccup. One that earned a raised eyebrow from both women.

       “Your quirk is invasive, Midoriya-kun?” Nousagi-san asked quietly. Izuku took a breath.

       “I can show you.”

       When she didn’t hear any other answer, she nodded. Even when he shot a brief glance at Recovery Girl, the woman offered him soft assurances until he finally let his quirk take hold of the room. Recovery Girl’s song was something he treated with more care than was necessary, but he’d heard it more than enough. Doctor’s songs were complicated things.

       Nousagi-san, by comparison, was something much easier. Her song was something sunny, more like dawn than Gran Torino’s twilight. The song was almost entirely keys, with a quiet song lingering over the airy tune. A memory mixed between past and present that sang alongside the piano.

       After a few moments, the woman blinked away tears and grinned at him wholeheartedly.

       “That’s what your quirk does, Midoriya-kun?” She chuckled softly. “It sounds like the song that my family sing to our children. But I’ll be honest, I thought it would be more… hallucinogenic. Like the festival.”

       “That’s…” Izuku frowned and sank in his chair some. “I have to work really hard for that to happen. And it’s usually only when you look at more than the surface.”

       “I’m not sure what you mean, but hopefully in time we can change that.” Nousagi-san smiled and shifted to cross her legs. “Would you like to start with your quirk, then? How early do you remember having it?”  

“I… I’ll start at the beginning, then.” Izuku didn’t look at them. He stared at the table, ignoring their nods. No one dared to break him out of it now.

       Izuku was four when he first heard the music. At first it was broken, like imagining a sound from a TV show or a tune that couldn’t you couldn’t get out of your head. During school, there were scraps of sound that left him feeling hot or cold or tired or hungry. Sometimes, when they at dinner, he heard something soft and warm coming from the other side of the table.

       The sound became something that Izuku chased, without really thinking. He never spoke of it, knowing that people might not understand. Words couldn’t explain how he heard things that made him feel, or that he didn’t know where they came from.

       Eventually, the songs came from everywhere. Instead of broken sounds they were constant melodies playing softly almost everywhere he went. His only moments of peace were the moments he spent alone.

       “I got my quirk when I was three. For a long time, I didn’t say anything. People always said I had a really vivid imagination, and I was always playing heroes and things. So, I sort of… denied it, I guess? Or I never considered it at all? Quirks didn’t do that sort of thing, in my mind. Heroes had really flashy, powerful quirks that helped people. And I never thought I’d be anything else. For a year and a half, I tried to figure out what it was, but I only ever realized that the noise came from people. I didn’t ask anyone about it until I started hearing the music all the time and it was loud enough that I couldn’t ignore it.”

       “Who did you ask?” Nousagi frowned at him while Recovery Girl flat out scowled down at the floor.

       “I asked my mom first.”

       That moment played out in his brain all at once, whenever he remembered it. Unclear, but with a mess of things that were still jagged enough to cut. Worse than anything was how the music changed.

       A soft, somber bell rang in his chest as his mother frowned at him. She’d been tall, right? Was she doing the dishes, or was that the sound of twilight surf? Even clearer than the bell in his chest was the low sound of strings, like one of the dangerous moments in his All Might Anime.

       “Music? I’m not playing any music Izuku.” She had looked away from the dishes and watched him tilt his head to the side.

          “ Where’s that sound coming from then?” He’d asked. The sound continued and rumbled through the floorboards as his mother pursed her lips.

          “ What sound?”

          “ The music!”

          “ Izuku, playing tricks isn’t nice.”

          “ But Mom, I’m not…”

          “Hush now and finish your homework.” He watched her turn back to whatever she was doing and listened to the music trail off. Something about the receding tune filled him with horrible, nervous energy. The kind that he got before Kacchan called him ‘Deku’ or he got hit by someone else on the playground.

       He didn’t talk about the music again.

       Anything to avoid that sound, the look in her eyes.

       Barely a week later, the songs began bleeding through the walls of his room.

       “Your file mentioned that your diagnosis was originally quirkless, but I didn’t think that your mother would have…” Nousagi’s smile was completely broken. Izuku nodded.

       “In a way, it’s a good thing, I think. If people had believed me, I wouldn’t have known what to call my quirk. I mean, I was too young to really understand it at the time. I didn’t really get it until I was six.”

       Izuku had only been to a couple festivals that he really remembered, but he remembered them really well after he’d started hearing the music. Being up late, watching fireworks if he was lucky, fishing games, maybe even a festival treat if they were doing well. He wasn’t allowed to bring his own money, but that was fine. All Might things were expensive sometimes, and he only had so much allowance. What he remembered most about the sound of a festival was the people laughing, and the dancing, the fabric of kimonos and lengths of golden harp strings hanging from every lantern, humming softly as people walked beneath the whispering moonbeams.

       The old man on the third floor sounded like all the things Izuku loved about festivals. Izuku stared as the women moved in and out of his apartment, leaving a few things of Izuku’s neighbor in the walkway. He was afraid to go and ask what they were doing. Why would some random kid from two floors up come and visit an ailing old man at five in the afternoon?

       He didn’t want to tell anyone the truth. Just thinking about it left the taste of tree bark and copper in his mouth while the sound of an early morning breeze rustled through his head. Instead he watched, trying to ignore the way his arms and knees and bleeding nose throbbed gently.

       Quiet traces of the old man’s song lingered on the things in the walkway. Children’s laughter and rushing water echoed inside that little set of drawers. That lamp held a few stray harp cords left over from the lanterns and silver moonbeams clung to the arcs of it like cobwebs in an old piano. A box full of pictures sounded like a broken music box, one that Izuku had seen at a flea market. Songs stuttered and trailed off slowly, but the cracked melodies hung onto each picture. Izuku had seen some of them, and he remembered the songs. Each one had been something Izuku wished he could remember: a family, having a picnic or visiting a monument or at a festival.

       Nothing had been sad before, but the way the music struggled made Izuku’s chest hurt.

       He’d seen the ambulance the week before. He’d really hoped that his friend would be okay. He’d never forget the way the music stopped when the women stepped out of the apartment and locked the door behind them.

       “Everyone… I think people get hung up on the ‘Soul’ aspect of it. Most people don’t think about things like that, or they try to put it in religion. My quirk isn’t like that. It’s about people. But earlier, Aizawa sensei asked me about it. Honestly, I… I couldn’t tell him where I got the name from.” Izuku sighed, relaxing the grip on the chair arms. “My quirk lets me hear people whether I want to or not. Growing up I didn’t have the choice at all, most of the time. So… I ended up noticing a lot of people die. You can’t not notice something like that. And I don’t mean that I can hear them floating around as ghosts. What kind of quirk would that be for a hero? But I… I can hear songs from objects, sometimes. When someone dies the song lingers for a while. Maybe I didn’t watch them die, but it felt like it. You watch people gather up their things and… there’s this moment where some people just give up. When they give up, the song fades entirely.”

       The women stared at him for a moment, lost for words. Izuku swallowed.

       “I made the Principal promise not to tell anyone about my quirk because there’s no getting around it. My quirk tells me how people feel. When you tell someone that they hurt your feelings, then the idea is that someone normal would feel hurt, right…? What do you do when you can’t get away from the sounds of someone’s heart breaking? Half the time, they didn’t even mean for anything bad to happen. Anyone hurting people on purpose wouldn’t care how you feel anyways. Sometimes you just have to keep moving forward and hope that people will grow on their own.”

       “That’s a very grown up way of thinking about it, Midoriya-kun, but you can’t always avoid confrontation.” Nousagi-san said quietly. Izuku sighed and clawed at his hair.

       “I mean… it’s not like I always avoid conflict. There was Todoroki. I had to use my quirk on him. And…” Izuku frowned. A shudder ran through his spine as he thought of the Spider. “There were other people I had to confront. Kacchan, for instance.”

       “Kacchan?” Nousagi-san perked up. “A close friend, or a girlfriend?”

       “Eh…?” Izuku blushed red enough to let steam off his ears. “N-no, not… He’s a childhood friend! We knew each other when we were little, calling him by his name just sounds wrong, we aren’t like that!”

       “Ah, I see.” Nousagi-san deflated some, but her ears twitched. “But, is it fair to guess that you two aren’t close anymore? You don’t sound too fond of him.”

       “Bakugō-kun has tried to kill Midoriya-kun once or twice by this point.” Recovery Girl muttered.

       “K-kill…?” Nousagi-san stared at Izuku with wide eyes.

       “H-he’s very loud but Kacchan doesn’t actually kill anyone…” He offered. Recovery Girl’s muttering turned dark enough that Izuku couldn’t help wondering if it looked anything like he did when he muttered.

       “Why don’t we talk about this… Bakugō? What kind of relationship did you two have?” Nousagi-san’s eye twitched, as if her stiff posture didn’t make her discomfort obvious enough. Izuku sighed.

       “Um… I mean, we can…? But… Kacchan is a bit of a long conversation.”

       “Is that so?” Nousagi-san hummed quietly. “Well, let’s just continue then. You were talking about… what your quirk lets you hear, I believe.”

       Izuku nodded and swallowed, “Y-yeah. I was… That last bit. When my neighbor passed away, I realized that my quirk had something to do with people’s relationships. Along with everything else, it took about two years for me to realize what exactly I was hearing. Mom wasn’t really comfortable with the name, but I insisted. She… actually she let it go pretty easily once I had my confirmation. And eventually we went and got those scans from my medical files.”

       “Your medical profile says that you’ve been drowning in emotions since you were little. I suppose now I understand some of why that is.” Recovery Girl sighed.

       “Midoriya-kun, I have one question.” Nousagi-san frowned. “You mentioned that you spent several years learning about your quirk. How did you do that?”

       “Oh.” Izuku wet his lips and glanced at Recovery Girl. “Um… Well, at first I started going to music halls. My quirk got me free admission to a pair of shows, since the directors were interested, but after a while I realized I couldn’t learn much from real music…”

       “Midoriya, stop looking like I’m going to bite you.” Recovery Girl said. “I’m a doctor, not a teacher. This is about you talking through your quirk. Unless you break some more bones, I won’t need to do anything to you.”

       Izuku swallowed and smiled weakly at her statement. Nousagi-san looked slightly sick.

       “I visited hospitals.” Recovery Girl blinked. Izuku looked at Nousagi-san instead, but his vision started blurring almost immediately when he thought of his first year visiting the hospital. “They heard I had an empathy quirk, so one of the doctors asked me to tell him what was bothering one of the patients. It was a little kid. She was afraid of needles.”

       Izuku’s fingers were as white as the porcelain of the toilet. He shivered on the tile floor, completely ignorant of the bile on his tongue and the sounds pouring out of the walls. Being in the hospital was like walking into the biggest concert hall on the planet, one full of countless orchestras. Misery and bliss played alongside one another like Sakura petals floating on a pit of tar. Keeping hold of a single song, one that was moving closer and closer to the entrance, was more than he’d ever managed before. The little girl was already much farther than his usual hearing range, but he clung to the sound as if his life depended on it.

       Bootsteps scraped across floormats. Sandpaper dragged across freshly cut wood, leaving a thick, heady scent in the air and burned his throat. The walls of the stall might as well have been a coffin or a plastic bag over his mouth. Every breath rattled in his ears, drowning out the approaching screech of worn strings and rasping metal. For a brief moment, the small and the sounds disappeared and the quiet whine of an artic breeze clawing at the walls.

       A soft, rhythmic chime of humming metal made him flinch before trailing off into more near silence. With the next chime, something scraped across his skin. To Izuku’s eyes, tiny wires crawled across the floor before jabbing their ends into his skin and tightening like fishhooks. Pressure built at each spot as if someone were pulling at his bones, and the vibrations filled the air between chimes with nervous, irregular scratching.

       Dead screams built in his chest. Screams of pain, screams of terror, screams of pleading all mixed together until his chest felt like it would burst. Instead of his heartbeat thundering in his ear, a feather-soft whisper slipped along the inside of his ear.

       Glass shattered across the floor, crawling over his taught flesh like hot saltwater. The wires screamed as the wave passed over them. A puddle of black poured beneath the door of Izuku’s stall, out of the ceiling and onto the walls, full of thick organ notes and smoldering kindling. Images flashed through his mind. His cheek stung. Something pulled at his hair hard enough that he might have stood up, if the wires hadn’t trapped him. Freezing wind howled into the room and leeched the heat from his body. Manic laughter joined the whispers in his ear, and the traces of burnt wood returned to burn his nostrils along with the spiders crawling along the curve of his ear and down his neck.

       The organ and drum slammed through him, pinning his wrists to the floor and holding him down by the back of his neck. Strings snapped, pulled from his skin by the force of it all. Heat bloomed from his wounds, flushing through him as the ink overtook him, leaving him blind. Pain lanced through his intestines as the song released him, screaming across metal and glass and wires while he lost the feeling in his limbs. Bones snapped under the force of his compressed screams.

       Eventually the music slowed, leaving nothing but the organ and the rasping drum and the whisper that still casually tickled his ear. Still limp, Izuku felt his tears freeze on his face as the silence took over entirely.

       Dull, throbbing pain radiated from his stomach, gradually fading with his consciousness.

       His heartbeat stopped last, and the song became a suffocating silence.

       Izuku choked out a sob as his hold on the girl’s song trailed off and he became vaguely aware of her song drifting rapidly beyond his reach. He retched, emptying strings of acid into the toilet again, ignoring the ocean of noise as it overtook him again.

       Just holding onto the song had taken everything he’d had. But even if he was sick or he was exhausted, he’d held onto the little girl’s song till the very end. That had been all he could do. Someone had to listen, at least. Before her song died out entirely.

       “Midoriya-kun?” Nousagi’s voice snapped him out of the trance. He shifted and shook himself until he could speak, but his voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

       “Sorry. Um. The doctors let me spend time in the hospital as a visitor in exchange for me trying to figure out what made certain patients anxious. For a little while it worked.” Izuku trailed off, staring at his hands. It kept me out of the house… but I didn’t think it through.

       “You mentioned that your neighbor died when you were younger. I assume visiting hospitals was much more of that?” Nousagi-san murmured. Izuku sighed.

       “Actually, no. Well, it was… but it was a lot worse, too.” Recovery Girl’s face was unreadable. Part of him was glad. He was still waiting for her to turn into another Aizawa, praying that his sensei would be the only one who insisted on digging into his past. “People die in hospitals, but they… they also get sick. A lot of people just lie there and wait. My quirk told me a lot. I learned a lot, but… learning things like that made me really sick sometimes.”

       “I see.” Nousagi-san’s voice was hoarse. Izuku was a bit surprised. She’d seemed… harder than her appearance at first. “Not only death, but that sort of thing… Are empathy quirks really so cruel?”

       “No, not usually.” Recovery Girl said quietly. “One of the reasons Midoriya’s quirk is so strange is the exposure it offers him. I’ve seen empathy quirks before, but normally they’re more refined. They don’t flood the user unless there are extenuating circumstances. Search was one thing, but it’s not emotional. He’s similar to Ragdoll, but on the opposite end of the spectrum it seems.”

       “Ragdoll… of the Wild Wild Pussycats?” Izuku murmured, perking up some. The woman nodded.

       “Ragdoll had a lot of trouble when she was young. But she learned to control her quirk, much like you have. And she’s become a great hero because of it.” Recovery Girl didn’t say anything beyond that. Izuku hummed at her words, then took a breath.

       Endeavor’s office, oddly enough, was cold. Shōto paused briefly when he walked through the doors and found the hero sitting there without his usual mane of fire. Almost immediately after he walked in, Endeavor met his stare. A long, drawn out note played out between them, something that made Shōto want to snort. He wondered briefly if his father could hear the songs, or if the man was as dense as Shōto had been before his battle with Midoriya. They stared at one another as if they’d been separated for years instead of little more than a week.

       ‘Shōto. You’re here.” Endeavor slipped from behind the desk easily. When Shōto dragged his suitcase further into the room, he caught the faintest traces of a song, but it was too low to make out. Or it was brief. He wasn’t entirely familiar with how the music worked. “How was your trip.”

       Shōto’s jaw worked up and down a few times.

       “Fine.” Was the only word he could settle on. Endeavor narrowed his eyes, then sighed through his nose.

       “Good. If you’re not tired, then we’ll be heading to Hosu soon. My agency has decided that the Hero Killer Stain is our priority, and I’ll be pursuing him. If you’d prefer, you can accompany one of my sidekicks, or myself.” Endeavor’s eyes never left him. Shōto paused, then tightened his hand around the handle of his suitcase.

       “…I’ll follow you. I have a lot to learn.” He said. Something in Endeavor relaxed, and the man nodded before standing up and walking towards the door.

       “We’ll be leaving soon, then. Change into your costume.” Endeavor paused at the door, glaring at the door knob. “Perhaps we can talk about your quirk on the way. I could answer questions.”

       Shōto didn’t answer that, and Endeavor didn’t wait for an answer. But when he followed his father out of the room, Shōto felt the lead in his chest start to evaporate.

       You’re on fire sir. Must be hard to hug your kids like that, Midoriya had said. Shōto hummed quietly as he stepped into the elevator beside Endeavor.

       You’re an intern, not… Shōto sighed, feeling something warm spread across his shoulders briefly. He’s a hero, and you’re here to learn. Don’t read too much into it.

       Katsuki stared at Best Jeanist and frowned.

       “You want me to what?” He asked.

       “In the Festival, you performed like a man possessed. Your power and control are incredible, but the mark of a hero is someone who can do all that and still appeal to the public.” Best Jeanist flicked a comb from nowhere. All around them, the sidekicks smirked at Katsuki maliciously. Katsuki ran his eyes over them, then glanced up at the hero and frowned a little more.

       “Can I ask you a question?” Best Jeanist paused, forcing the rest to jar to a halt. Katsuki let some of the tension in his shoulder relax as they froze.

       “You may.” Best Jeanist’s tone was light, but the man seemed tense all of a sudden. Katsuki sighed through his nose and reached up… froze when he remembered his gauntlets, then cursed under his breath and clenched his fists.

       “What did you see in the finals.” Katsuki watched as Best Jeanist arched an eyebrow and scowled when his anger continued to boil behind his eyes. “You requested me, but you’re in the top five. You know I didn’t win. What did you see that made you request me anyways?”

       Best Jeanist crossed his arms, slipping the comb to god-knows-where. Katsuki let up on his scowl some when the threat disappeared from his sight.

       “It’s as I said. You have power, control, ability… Everything about you, other than your behavior, is that of a powerful hero in training.” Strings flew out from his suit and dragged a chair out for the hero to sit down. The man’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t want to know about that. You mean that explosion from your opponent.”

       Katsuki’s breath caught in his lungs. The pain of holding it too long, waiting for the hero’s next words, quelled his anger some. Not enough, but some.

       “I watched because I heard that there were promising young students in the first-year group. Out of the third years, the most promising have already been interned out or contracted all but officially. Normally I’d watch the second years, but… Well, you caught my eye early.” Best Jeanist waved a hand at him, still borderline dismissive. Katsuki ground his teeth as air hissed from his nose. “And then we saw that boy. Midoriya something or other. Powerful, but struggling with his power. Whatever was going on with him, I’ll certainly keep an ear out. During your match with him…”

       Best Jeanist’s eyes softened, briefly. Katsuki’s eye twitched.

       “Whatever he did, I know the feeling that Midoriya used.” Best Jeanist stood up, glancing at a bookshelf full of awards and photos. “The feeling of being safe from anything, as long as that person was close by. Safe from anything, be it violence or villains, if only because he was keeping me safe. I haven’t felt something so moving since I was a sidekick myself. My first time working with All Might, as it happens. What I saw within that explosion, whatever it was, was a boy who was willing to take the entire world on his shoulders, even at the cost of his own life.”

       The man’s eyes hardened again, bringing the jackals around Katsuki back to life.

       “I felt your will to fight die, as well. You were more interesting than that one, to me. Did Midoriya break your will, Bakugō Katsuki?”

       Katsuki’s frown dug hard lines into his face for a moment. Then a well of laughter bubbled up from his chest, changing from giggling to full on cackling in moments. Jeanist’s sidekicks scowled at him in return.

       “I’m going to be a hero. One of the greatest heroes of all!” Katsuki grinned, resisting the urge to set off his ‘sparklers’. “And I’ll do it my way, Best Jeanist. If that means dragging the world along, then I’ll do it. But I won’t break, like Deku did!”

       Something about Best Jeanist told Katsuki that the man was smiling behind that dumb ass collar of his. A soft chuckle escaped the hero as his strings replaced the chair and leered down at Katsuki.

       “You’ll take the bit in your teeth then? You behave like a wild animal, ready to be unleashed at the nearest villain. No one will feel safe just because your wrath is headed in the other direction.” The words were a challenge. It should have made Katsuki howl defiance, but he laughed and let his quirk pop over his hands. His ‘sparklers’ set the sidekicks on the back foot, despite their bluster.

       “I’m here to learn, aren’t I?”

       The air around Best Jeanist warmed as if he were mimicking the edge of Katsuki’s grin.

       “Slip up, and I’ll groom you like an animal. Understood? A hero must look the part. But if you’re willing to try, then perhaps that wild appearance won’t hurt.” Best Jeanist strode past him, heading for the elevator. Katsuki flashed his teeth at the sidekicks in a challenge, one that left all of them checking rising tempers. “Let’s be off. We’ve wasted enough time on philosophy. From now on, we talk about style and heroics.”

       Katsuki stalked toward the elevator, relishing the feel of Best Jeanist’s sidekicks leering at his back. With the pressure on, and one of the top heroes smirking down at him, he’d never felt higher.

        I tried to tell them.

        Izuku leapt as All Might appeared, throwing another flurry of blows that Izuku managed to scrape out of. A lingering sting on his right forearm told him how close the dodge had been, but the sensation was forgotten the moment he felt it. Blue eyes bore into him as All Might circled him. Those eyes burned like small stars set in the man’s imposing features, and his smile may as well have been a suit of armor. Lazily, Izuku kept his place across the floor from his mentor.

        When All Might disappeared, Izuku was already dropping to the floor, pushing himself up and kicking off All Might’s forward knee. His hit wasn’t meant to land, but the shock was obvious, if only to Izuku.

        That’s five…? Izuku touched down, barely feeling the strain in his legs from using One for All. Five times I’ve surprised him. And I’m barely using six percent of One for All, huh…

        “That’s enough.” Gran Torino called, startling them both. Izuku’s glow faded as his mind returned, entirely, to the gym. All Might stood up and coughed, reaching to take the weights off his arms and legs. “How are you even the Symbol of Peace in that condition, Toshinori? You barely managed to scrape the boy!”

        “These are half my weight.” All Might chuckled as he dropped the bracelets to the floor (Izuku was sure he only did it like that because he thought it looked cool). “And young Midoriya is performing extremely well, as always.”

        Izuku frowned and clenched a fist, staring down at the scorch marks left on his gloves. Sparring with All Might was a good thing. The Symbol of Peace, even going easy on him while wearing the handicaps, moved faster than the human eye and swung several punches a minute. Nothing short of perfect timing let him avoid the blows.

        “What is it, problem child?” Aizawa leaned down until his eyes were peering into Izuku’s. He glanced back to his glove and swallowed.

        “My quirk still feels strange.” Izuku sighed. “Using it like this still feels awkward. I think I’m missing something.”

        “Sounds like you’re overcomplicating things.” Gran Torino called, glancing up from his cell phone for half a second before he returned his frown to the screen. “Stop doing two things at once. Just use everything you have.”

        Izuku grimaced and pinched his lip.

        “Could you two spar for me?” Izuku flinched as Gran Torino and Aizawa looked up and gave him a pointed stare. “Um… I’ve been wanting to try something, and I think… Well, I need other people to see if this works.”

        “USJ?” Aizawa sighed. Izuku nodded and dug through his hair. Gran Torino shot a disbelieving look at Aizawa when the man turned towards him.

        “You’re not serious. This is supposed to be for the kid!”

        “All due respect but,” Aizawa sighed as he pulled his goggles from his weapon and strode into the sparring area, “I trust that Midoriya isn’t wasting our time.”

        Izuku swallowed as his teacher looked towards him and Gran Torino shuffled past, tossing Izuku his cane.

        “For his sake, I only hope that this technique has improved.”

        A nervous laugh escaped him, earning a curious look from all three of his teachers. Before they were done, he looked at the floor.

        “Um… All Might, could you referee the fight? I need to focus.” Izuku glanced up at the man’s smile, noting the softness there, and offered a shaky smile to thank him as he took his place.

        The void came easily. He drifted, half aware of the gym beneath his feet and All Might’s confirmation that both were ready to begin. After a pause, ensuring that he’d blocked out all the songs outside the gym, Izuku delicately reached out to Aizawa’s song. Music flowed through him easily, filling the void until Izuku felt every note as if it were his own.

        I’ve only got a few shots at this… Izuku frowned as his teacher’s soul reverberated within the void. The fight started, much to his dismay, and the control he had over the songs within the gym started fraying at the edges. A deep breath left him feeling as empty as the void, if only for the moment, and he regained his control. One for All came as easily as the void, almost as easily as breathing.

        Just before One for All started flowing through his bloodstream, Izuku focused his song down to a string and plugged himself into Aizawa’s soul. At the smallest level, nothing happened. He’d synchronized with Aizawa, but it was a delicate balance. One that Aizawa was leading. Delicately as he could, Izuku took hold of Aizawa’s song, instead of simply drawing it in. Sweat formed on his forehead as he began increasing One for All, focusing on the connection he’d formed with Aizawa.

        Nothing…? Izuku frowned and released the hold. He tugged frantically at his hair, squatting down on the balls of his feet when his thoughts started running wild.

        Toshinori lost his muscle form a few minutes after Gran Torino and Aizawa stopped fighting. He wasn’t proud of his performance, but he couldn’t say that his time was going down by the day. His old mentor would hit him, and Aizawa would just say something rude.

        Instead, he focused on Midoriya, who appeared to be running himself rabid.

        “Midoriya.” Aizawa frowned as the boy’s muttering rose to a fever pitch. “Whatever you tried, nothing happened.”

        “He seems to know that, idiot.” Gran Torino huffed. “He’s barely decent at hand to hand fighting. What is this amazing technique you’re expecting him to whip up?”

        “During the villains’ attack on USJ, Midoriya managed to connect the students and myself who were present.” Aizawa muttered. Toshinori perked up when he remembered Thirteen bringing that up some time ago. “If he’s working on that ability, then he may even by on par with Mandalay.”

        “Don’t know that one. Must be new.” Gran Torino waved them off. “Whatever. I still think this kid is a dud.”

        “Trust me.” Aizawa didn’t even spare a glance at the old man, which seemed to bother Gran to no end. Toshinori slid back a step, just in case. “Midoriya isn’t someone you want to underestimate. He’s got as much potential as any other student in this school, if not more.”

        “You’re really playing favorites.” Gran Torino groaned.

        Toshinori frowned as he looked towards Midoriya. His student had stood up and begun pacing, eyes dead to the world and turned on something completely beyond all three of them. It was a look Toshinori knew well enough from their days training before Yuuei. Seeing that look sent a shudder down his spine. Midoriya was determined, and that meant that he wouldn’t stop till he finished this… whatever it was.

        “Sensei.” Toshinori blinked when Midoriya stopped and strode over to them. “Can we give it one more shot?”

        “Did you figure it out?” Gran Torino’s voice twisted a bit, making no attempt to hide the mockery in his question. Midoriya barely blinked.

        “I think so. What I tried before was just an experiment, but I think I know what happened. I can’t use my own power,” Midoriya glanced up at Toshinori, subtly acknowledging what only three of their party knew. “But I have one more thing to try.”

        “What are you even doing, listening to other people fight? What kind of moron just sits around doing nothing?” Gran Torino stalked back towards the sparring field. Aizawa remained, staring down at the boy steadily.

        “Midoriya.”

        “Sensei?”

        “What exactly are you going to do to me?” Toshinori was surprised at the lack of emotion in the man’s tone. Aizawa seemed resigned to being Midoriya’s test subject. Which… he wasn’t sure if Aizawa was guilty, or actually beginning to play favorites.

        “I’m going to try and play you a song.” Midoriya stated. For the first time in a long time, there was no tremble in his shoulders. Whatever he meant, Midoriya was dead set on this.

        I’m not fit to be a Symbol of Peace, All Might.

        Toshinori raised his hand, trying to ignore the tiny hum of static that bloomed as Aizawa strode back into the sparring field. When he called the fight, he stepped back, trying his best to keep both Midoriya and the field in his view. For several minutes, there was nothing. Just… Gran Torino, attacking Aizawa and keeping the taller man on the defensive.

        I can’t be like All Might, but I can support them.

        For the first time since he’d known Midoriya, there was no sound. He might not have noticed if they weren’t all there for Midoriya’s training. Gran Torino grunted when Aizawa lashed out at him, but instead of blocking, the veteran was flung backwards. Toshinori’s jaw dropped when he saw Aizawa dart forward, zipping across the gap at speeds that he would never use for a simple spar. Before a minute had passed, Gran Torino was flung from the ring, and Midoriya groaned, falling to one knee.

        Aizawa turned to the boy immediately.

        “What the hell kind of song was that, Midoriya?” Aizawa’s eyes were narrowed, but not angry. On Toshinori’s other side, Midoriya was beaming.

        “That… was…” Midoriya paused and took a breath. “That’s what I’ve been working on.”

        Shōto blinked when his father froze, but the feeling washing over him made the reason clear. A prickling sensation brushed past him, pushing outwards as if someone had blown a bubble over the city, and left a sense of emptiness that Shōto could only called ‘clarity. Endeavor glanced over his shoulder eyes hesitating on Shōto, before turning and continuing his campaign down the street.

        Why, Shōto frowned as he followed Endeavor, why is Midoriya here? He’s not supposed to be in Hosu! No one else is supposed to be here!

        Downtown Hosu was in flames. Shōto paused as Endeavor turned a corner, halting the troupe when Endeavor realized that he’d stopped.

        “Shōto.” Endeavor’s tone was neutral. It had been neutral since his arrival. The question in it hung in the air.

        “Listen.” Shōto called.

        Static. Even being in class with Midoriya he’d never heard static like that. It covered the street, trailing off…

        “That way.” Shōto didn’t bother waiting. He heard someone curse, but they followed him regardless. They made it half a block before they froze, several of the sidekicks calling out when a sense of dread flushed through the air like a haze. Quietly, Shōto could feel his nerves buzzing as Midoriya’s quirk used them for cello strings.

        “Go.” Endeavor barely paused. He didn’t glance at Shōto, nor did he pause more than a second before he continued jogging down the street. “I’ll find the villains. Do what you need to. Keep in touch.”

        Shōto hesitated for a moment.

        Endeavor… Shōto’s eyes remained trained on the man’s back. Then he was running down the street, letting his feet take him towards Midoriya. Frantic thoughts blurred together in his mind when he started letting the worry consume him.

        He lost track of time when he turned down the last street. The alley sat near the other end, and something in the air reached a fever pitch, a frantic burst of adrenaline that left Shōto throwing himself across the street, breathing heavily.

        “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!”

        A wave of panic sank its teeth into Shōto. His throat closed up, his eyes widened until tears burned in his eyelids, and the breath fled from his lungs. Something hot spread out from beyond the wall he leaned against, reminding him of the days when Endeavor would come home with a look that said ‘training’.

        Everything in his body locked up as darkness chased the heat, shoving Shōto from his feet and down, throwing him into an endless black pit that crawled out of his gut and swallowed him from the inside out.

        The first wave had been familiar. Midoriya had done something, and it had absorbed most of Hosu. Fighting the Nomu left Shōta too preoccupied to worry about what. When Endeavor turned the beast into charcoal, he left the talking to Gran Torino. Before he could start walking, a second pulse washed over the city.

        …Discordant laughter, screaming, blood rushing through the ears and thundering, erratic heartbeats…

        Ice washed through his veins before his heart stopped entirely. For an eternity, time drew out and left him trapped in freefall. Nothing on the street moved. Everyone stood motionless with wide eyes as the sounds paralyzed them.  

        Breathing felt like drowning. The force of his next heartbeat nearly knocked Shōta off his feet, but the sounds lingered. Dread, even worse than what filled the street, bloomed in Shōta’s chest as he thought of what Midoriya had said.  

        “New technique?”

        “Y-yeah… Something like that. But it’s not complete yet. I… I don’t know if I can really do it.”

        “What’s stopping you, Midoriya?”

        “There’s two sides to every coin, Sensei. If I can help people with something like this then…”

        Shōta and Gran Torino took off running at full speed down the street.

        What the hell did you learn to do, Midoriya…?