Work Text:
Izuku finds it intimidating to be so far from Mustafa. This is the first school field trip that's happened so far from home and it would normally be exciting to be in such a new place. The problem, of course, lies with his classmates.
Nobody likes him, so as soon as he is assigned a partner they wander off to be with another group. The museum they're going to is interesting, though it isn't one about heroes. Still, history is intrinsically tied with heroism, so there’s bound to be something inside.
The class troops into the white shiny walls of the museum. The air is cool inside, a nice change from the sweltering heat. The receptionist smiles with sharp teeth, the white bright against the galaxy blue of her skin. Izuku’s hand twitches as he thinks about what the woman’s quirk might be, or if her skin and teeth are just secondary mutations. Sadly, his notebook rests in his backpack and if Izuku reaches for it before they're supposed to take notes, he'll be scolded.
The teacher speaks quietly to the receptionist, whatever she says gets them a bunch of pamphlets and papers. The teacher hands them out, scowling a little when she sees his group member has left, though she doesn't say anything. Izuku bites his lip, looking down at the museum materials in his hands.
On one hand, he really doesn't want to deal with a classmate that is bound to either pick on him or completely ignore him. But on the other, it hurts a lot to be abandoned so easily. It never stops stinging, though Izuku thinks that he should be used to it.
Ever since he was four and diagnosed Quirkless his life has been a series of such disappointments.
The teacher leads them forward, no guide in sight. Behind them another class comes in. Their uniforms are a much higher quality than the ones that his class are wearing. They must be from a nicer district. Izuku stops paying attention as the class enters the first hallway.
The hall is filled with some ancient facts, though there are no artifacts, no exhibits, just a long line of computer printed images on the sides, filled with walls of text.
The majority of the class whispers amongst itself, not really interested in what the teacher says. Izuku does try to get closer, but as they always do; everyone forms a protective barrier that keeps him out. Izuku can see Kacchan’s blond near the front. Kacchan doesn't like the teacher much either, but he's the only other person who Izuku knows is as invested in learning as he is.
The hall is less of an exhibit one and more of an introductory one. From what he can read on the wall closest to him, it's mostly about the 1500s to 1600s. The other years must be the other panels and if he stretches he can indeed see 1700 to 1800 on the next panel over. Since the class isn’t at the beginning, they skipped past the really ancient stuff.
Izuku reads the panel in front of him, unable to hear the teacher.
Finally, the teacher leads them away, towards the next hall. This one was much more interesting with actual exhibits in it, though it seems it’s not a permanent one. Rather it’s focused on the samurai of old.
The teacher seems to give up at this point, as his classmates' chatter reaches a deafening tone. She flicks his hand out and announces a free-roam.
Everyone scatters and Izuku trails behind, knowing that he would be unwanted.
The hall is a large one, which makes sense if it’s the showcase area. Izuku lingers near the front of it, while many of his classmates dart to the weaponry.
He entrances himself with a piece of old Samurai armor. It’s not the only kind here, in fact it’s missing a few pieces. That just means his classmates won’t want to crowd around it.
Izuku has to stifle a bitter chuckle at the sight of it. Back then nobody had quirks. Anyone could protect anyone and nobody would say anything about it. His hand ghosts over the plaque, letting his fingers run over the grooves from the lettering. Izuku wishes everyone could see what he was capable of. People were always capable of protecting others, so doesn’t that mean he still could?
It takes a second to notice that the hall has gone quiet. Izuku whips around, the hall now empty. The class left without him.
Izuku would feel more anxious about this, but this is a common occurrence on school trips. Nobody ever bothers to inform him (not even the teacher) and since he's off on his own, he usually misses when the group is moving on.
Staying with the group is intolerable because the comments people make, but at the same time when he doesn't stay this happens. Izuku huffs and adjusts his backpack straps. There is never a good option, which is why he’s learned to hate these sort of trips.
He skitters forward, looking around the small atrium outside of the hallway. Nobody. There’s two possible directions, forward and up. A glance at the map in his hands indicates upward is where the more modern exhibits are. Forward continues the trend of older eras.
The teacher had mentioned focusing on the more modern eras though…
Izuku will be scolded either way, so any choice might be wrong. He worries the folded map in his hand, creasing it into smaller and smaller folds.
Up is the best bet, because if they aren’t there, he can wait for them, while if they aren’t downstairs it’ll be easier to get lost. Izuku trots up the marble white stairs, hand gripping the shiny guardrail tight. His palms are slightly slick with sweat from nerves.
Coming around the bend from the steps shows once again, no one. Izuku sighs, running a hand through his hair roughly. He chose wrong, but at least his class should be making their way around again, the hall he almost went down was a dead end after all. He glances around. There are a few paintings here and there, but this isn’t exactly an exhibit hall, more of a thruway.
There are doors between the hung objects, but they almost all bear official ‘Employee Only’ signs.
Izuku drifts forward. He isn’t going to leave the hall, but standing around won’t do him any good either. There’s a stunning picture of koi fish, painted circa 2145. Apparently done with the man’s own quirk, Liquify. Izuku tugs his notebook out, jotting down a few notes. When he gets home he’ll have to research what exactly Liquify does. Is it as it sounds? Could the painter liquify anything?
His mom would also probably appreciate the painting. She likes art and has a lot of books on the subject. Guilt shoots through him at not really paying attention. Mom likes to listen about heroes, even though Izuku doubts she cares that much for them beyond All Might. The least he could do is listen to her about her art books.
He nods, determined. Paying attention to some of the paintings will give him something to talk about at least. Usually after school conversations are stilted and short, leaving both Midoriyas in an awkward, uncomfortable state.
The sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs startles him and Izuku jumps. He turns, fully expecting to see his teacher or maybe an employee.
The pink girl charging through the doorway is a surprise.
She blinks at him.
He blinks back.
The girl is wearing the other school’s uniform, he notes. Not part of his class, though Izuku would know that just by how unique she looks. Nobody has pink skin and hair at Aldera, though he is pretty sure there’s a boy with horns, they look nothing like the ones she has.
“Hi!” She says loudly, smiling wide.
Izuku flushes, stumbling back a step. No one smiles that wide at him, especially not cute girls.
She bounds forward, tilts her head and says, “I’m Ashido Mina! You must be from that other school, huh?”
He nods, flushing harder. Ashido is close to him now and he can’t find any words to say.
She sighs, fiddling with the tips of her hair. Hair that actually kind of looks like Izuku’s haircut, if he’s being honest.
“Ugh, it was so boring on the first floor. All the cool stuff is up here!” She flaps a map by her face, pouting.
Izuku swallows and tries to speak again, “U-um, what about the samurai part?”
“That was sort of neat, but the next hall over was more of those boring signs,” Ashido rocks back on her heels, “And I wasn’t about to put up with that again, armor and swords withstanding!” Her pointer finger comes perilously close to his face and Izuku flushes again. Ashido sure is...excitable.
“R-really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh? Then why were you up here?”
He looks at his feet, embarrassed. Ashido doesn’t know anything about him, that’s why she’s being so friendly. If he mentions his class left him behind, she’ll want to know why and then he’ll have to tell her and then she’ll stop smiling and talking to him.
Izuku clenches his fists, map crumpling even more in his hand.
“I was daydreaming, and I took the wrong turn.” It’s better to be mocked for something minor than her finding out about his quirklessness.
Ashido laughs, like he expects her to. What he doesn’t expect is for her to rub the back of her head, giving him a sheepish grin.
“I do that all the time! Man, you think teachers could give a little louder warning!”
The laugh is a friendly one, teasing...but in a nice way. Izuku can’t remember anyone but his mom doing that. A grin edges its way onto his face.
Looking her in the eyes for so long is hard though and his drop to his feet.
“Yeah,” he replies.
Ashido ignores his brusque reply, instead choosing to lean in to look at the koi fish picture.
“Candy fish, huh? What a weird title!”
Izuku reacts to her confusion a little too quickly, the words rushing out like water from a spout.
“The painter’s quirk actually was called Liquify! According to records and tests, the painting was actually made of melted candy and some other substance, speculated to be a chemical he produced from his body to start the liquifying process! Whatever that substance was, it must have done something to the chemical structure, since it would be hard to paint with melted candy!”
He yelps when he realizes what he’s done, hand covering his mouth and shoulders hunching.
“Wow,” Ashido says, and Izuku braces for impact, “That’s pretty cool!”
His eyes flick over to her. She stares back, black and gold eyes wide. Izuku scans her expression, but there’s no hint of scorn or even the slightest hint of a sneer.
Ashido looks genuinely impressed.
Something warm and prickly wraps around his heart. He resists the urge to press his hand against his chest, basking in the foreign emotion.
She presses a finger against her lips, eyes narrowing and Izuku flinches-
Why did he get his hopes up, he’s so dumb-
“That’s kinda like my quirk!”
“Huh?”
“Yeah!” Ashido says, leaning so close her shoulder bumps his, “Mine’s Acid, so it’s a little different, but like, we can both melt things!”
The swoopy soft air fills his heart again.
“Wow!” Izuku says, “That’s amazing! That kind of quirk would be perfect for hero work!”
He’s not lying, Acid would be so handy in rescue situations and infiltration and if Ashido can change the ph of her acid then that opens up so many possibilities-
“You’re mumbling,” she says and he squeaks, scuttling back.
“Oh, I’m- I’m sorry, I know it’s creepy, but-!”
Ashido crinkles her nose at him, “It’s fine dude! You were talking about my quirk I think?”
He cracks a knuckle, fidgeting.
“Yes, um, it’s a good quirk for hero work...I was just...considering the potential of it…”
“Thanks!” She chirps.
Izuku’s eyes dart back up. Ashido still looks completely sincere. He’s never met anyone this enthusiastic, especially around him.
“I wanna be a hero,” she flexes, smiling even harder, “So hearing you say that has got me super pumped!”
“Ah- me too!” Izuku blurts out before freezing. His blood runs cold and he wishes he could shove the words back down his throat, cold sweat rising on his back.
“Nice!” Ashido says, and like an awful premonition he can hear the words before they come out of her throat, “So what’s your quirk?”
There are two options.
Either Izuku lies or Izuku tells the truth.
He’ll probably never see Ashido again. She’s from another school, in a district far nicer than his. With her quirk, she’ll have her pick of hero schools and Izuku, despite his desperate dreams, is under no illusions about how his exam will go (though the tiniest, faintest pinprick of hope sticks to him like glue, propelling him forward and onward).
But lying feels like rot in his throat.
The only way Ashido will like him is to lie. The warmth in his heart has frozen, frozen his veins and his lungs and his words.
If he tells the truth-
Well.
He knows what that’s like.
She’ll turn on him like everyone else. Maybe not meanly, because Ashido seems nice. But her eyes will soften with pity, her smile will tip to the side, and Izuku can’t bear that either.
The silent hall now is a thunderous roar in his ears. Ashido’s brows are furrowing and he can tell she’s about to ask again and the twisting in his gut gets worse and-
The lights go out.
“What the hell?” Ashido says, spinning around.
“I-I don’t know,” Izuku says, trying not to sound too relieved at the unexpected third option that just fell in his lap.
The two stand in the silence.
“It’s probably just a power out-”
Izuku’s words are taken right from his mouth when he notices something creeping up the stairs. It’s a pale bluish gas, and it’s gently rolling towards the two. The gas isn’t far from the ground, but if it came up the steps...there’s a good chance that it filled the downstairs.
“Huh?” Ashido says, looking at his face in confusion. He points forward toward where the gas is bubbling forward.
“Ashido,” he says, voice shaking, “I think we might be in trouble.”
The girl turns to look at it. If it weren’t for the extra generator lights, it would be impossible to catch it. A thought pops up in Izuku’s head and he gulps loud in the silence.
“I think this might be a villain attack,” he says, “I don’t know what’s happening downstairs but-”
A yell permeates the silence and Izuku can hear bangs, as if to agree with his thought. In the dim lighting, he can just catch Ashido paling. She rolls her shoulders forward and throws him a wobbly smile.
“Well, the bad guys don’t know we’re here, do they?”
Izuku nods, biting his lip. He slips his hand into his pants’ pocket and brings out his phone. If they can call the police, they’ll notify the closest heroes. He glances at his phone once he’s unlocked it.
No signal.
“Do you have a signal on your phone, Ashido?” He asks, trying to contain his panic. The gas hasn’t quite reached them, with whatever the villains are doing they’re probably focused on the downstairs which buys the two some time.
She grabs her phone from her skirt and then curses once it lights up.
“No, dammit.”
Izuku brings a hand up to his face, biting into his thumb. There aren’t any windows on this level and there’s no telling where the doors go.
He angles his phone’s light towards the map, reading it. Forward just means more exhibits, which while helpful for hiding, doesn’t help their classmates on the lower floors. The map doesn’t indicate where the staff only doors go, which is irritating but understandable.
It does list the fire escape routes though.
Obviously, being so close to the first floor, the easiest way is down, but the staircase is too large of a target. Whatever villains are down below are bound to be watching it. The other staircase is through three different rooms and ends up on the other side of the museum. While stealthy, not a great option for time.
While flipping through the pages for the first and second floor, Izuku notices something. There’s two staff only rooms and the one on the second floor is directly over the first floor’s room.
Lady luck must be on their side, because there is a window indicated on the fire chart that should be in the lower staff room.
“Ashido,” he asks, “Is there anything you can’t melt through?”
She frowns but answers, “I haven’t tried on a lot of metals, but concrete and stuff, yeah? It might take me a minute to get it right.”
Izuku grins at her, “That’s perfect, I have a plan!”
But before he can mention it, footsteps echo in the stairwell.
“Thought I heard something up here,” a deep voice calls, “I’m gonna spread more of the gas, just in case.”
Izuku’s heartbeat almost rabbits out of his chest, hands shaking at the voice. Ashido’s eyes are large and wild, probably feeling no better than he.
The footsteps don’t stop.
The amount of gas increases as it starts to flood upwards. Izuku realizes it’s most likely the man’s quirk. He takes a deep breath and grabs Ashido’s hand. She doesn’t resist when he pulls her forward towards the staff door.
He rattles the knob, but of course the door is locked. Spending so much time in the same classroom as Kacchan means he has to swallow down his curse.
Izuku does yelp when Ashido bumps him out of the way with her hip, leaning forward and grasping the knob.
“I can melt this,” she hisses and Izuku can see a filmy substance well up on her hand. If the situation wasn’t so dire he’d be bursting with questions, but as it is he watches the stairwell out of the corner of his eye, tense.
Ashido coats a finger and pokes it at the space between the frame and door. Sher turns the doorknob slowly, finger poised to add more, when it clicks open. She pumps her fist and tugs him inside. Once the door closes behind them, Izuku heaves a sigh of relief.
“Thanks,” he whispers. She nods and opens her mouth, but the man outside starts to yell again.
“I don’t see anyone boss, but I’ll give this floor a good dose anyway!”
The footsteps echo closer and closer and Izuku feels Ashido draw up beside him. He is strung as tight as a bowstring. The room they’re in is just a janitor’s closet. There’s no way of escape save for the door they’re pressed against.
Izuku lets out a sharp inhale as the villain passes by and Ashido’s elbow digs into his side as she curls forward.
The real problem becomes apparent when the gas starts to seep through the bottom of the doorframe. His eyes widen at the sight and Izuku stretches to his tiptoes. Ashido does the same, hand reaching out to clutch at his shoulder.
The villain stomps away and Izuku can hear him fading away. Despite this the gas continues to rise.
“I think the villain stopped in the stairwell,” he whispers mouse-quiet to Ashido. Her nails dig into his flesh at the words. The gas won’t stop rising at this rate, they need to get out as quickly as they can.
Izuku licks his lips. His heart has never beaten this fast in his life but Ashido’s harsh grip grounds him. They have to escape and make sure the heroes know what’s happening.
“Below us,” he continues, “Below us is another staff room, but this one should have a window.”
“How do we get down there?”
He frowns at the question, eyeing the gas that’s up to their calves.
“I’m going to need you to melt the floor.”
Ashido makes a noise of surprise and she uncurls herself from the door.
“I can do that. But we’re going to need to hurry.”
Izuku nods grimly. Ashido pushes off the door and he presses against it harder. Where the lock was melted it wants to open back up, which will attract the villain's attention. A wet floor cone sets against the wall and he leans toward it, dragging it over with the tips of his fingers. The cone makes a scraping noise against the ground and he pauses, wincing. No footsteps come, though, and he puts it beside him, stepping away carefully.
The door stays shut.
Ashido has rolled up her sleeves and wrapped the ribbon from her collar around her face. Izuku shrugs out of his white uniform shirt, leaving only his white tank top underneath. He ties the shirt around his mouth.
Hopefully, their clothes will block out the gas somewhat.
“Ready!” Ashido says, sticking out a thumb. It wobbles slightly and her smile stretches too wide at the edges. He gives a shaky smile in response.
She drops to her knees, acid pooling on her arms this time. The first drops don’t do anything and her face pinches, the color of the acid changing slightly.
Izuku pulls himself away, glancing at the shelves. It's going to be a long drop to the first floor, so they’ll need to anchor themselves somehow. The first few shelves contain only cleaning equipment, but the bottom shelf has a few dusty bungee cords shoved into the corner.
He tests the shelf, pulling at it.
Nailed to the wall.
Perfect.
He rigs the bungee cords together, making sure to check on Ashido. Her face is close to the continually rising gas and he can tell it’s having an effect when she sways to the side.
“Are you okay?” He asks. Ashido nods, but it’s a slow one.
Izuku edges closer. Her acid has almost eaten a large enough hole through the floor.
“It looks pretty close to big enough,” he says, worried at the shake of Ashido’s arm. The acid she’s producing looks like it’s getting thinner too, which has him biting his cheek.
“You think?” She asks, tilting her head. She stands but stumbles to the side, crashing into Izuku.
“Ashido!” He almost shouts, catching himself on the first syllable. Izuku freezes again, but no noise approaches the door.
“I’m...I’m okay,” she slurs, sounding very much not okay. The gas is up to their knees and from what he can see from below, it’s filling the majority of that staff room as well.
He hisses under his breath, adjusting Ashido so she’s standing on her two feet.
“I’ll go first,” he says, “That way if you slip I can catch you.”
Even in her drugged state, Ashido manages to give him a dubious look. Izuku knows he’s scrawny but...at least he’ll be something to land on, rather than the concrete flooring below.
She scowls but nods, “Be careful.”
Izuku smiles again, though he knows it’s pathetic. The bungee cord is rough against his palms as he lowers it through the hole. The length of it is just a little above the ground, perfect for jumping down to.
“Good luck,” Ashido says, trying to pat him on the shoulder. She ends up mostly slapping at his cheek though and if the situation were less dire he might’ve blushed.
He nods, “Thanks.”
Izuku was never the greatest at climbing the rope in gym class. He wasn’t terrible, but to put him in the top half of the class would be a lie.
His muscles burn as he slowly lowers himself down, grunting as softly as he can. The bungee cord wants to swing, though it doesn't have too much space to, the motion doesn’t help his grip. He slips a bit before the end, landing on his feet with a sharp spike of pain and stumbling into the wall with a loud screech.
The two of them freeze at the noise and Izuku slowly leverages himself up. No footsteps. Luck really is on their side today.
“C’mon down!” Izuku says, but already he can feel the gas getting to him. The acrid substance burns his throat and nose and he presses the shirt against his face tighter.
Ashido grips the rope and starts down. Even affected by the gas, Izuku can tell she’s got good upper arm strength. She hardly stops like he did, even though her arms are shaking worse.
But at the halfway point, one of them gives out and she falls. Izuku darts underneath her and she hits him hard. Izuku at least manages to get her somewhat in his arms, though he crumples at her weight, ankle screaming in pain as he lands on it.
“S-sorry,” Ashido says, trying to stand but mostly sliding off of his lap into the floor in a strange crouch. His head swims, either from the pain or the gas or both.
“I-it’s okay,’ Izuku replies, his attempt at standing not much better than what she managed.
Ashido huffs, standing finally, “We need to get out of here.”
He takes the hand she gives, though they both sway once they’ve stood up. Izuku glances behind him, grinning once he spots the window.
“We just need to melt the glass and we’ll be in the fresh air!”
He helps Ashido forward, dragging his bum ankle behind him. Her head keeps bobbing, her eyelids flicking heavily. She’s sagging on him so much that Izuku is practically carrying her. His ankle twinges in protest and he bites down a yelp.
Ashido slaps her hand against the glass, acid coming out slow and thick.
It does nothing to it.
The edges of Izuku’s vision start to grey and he staggers, bumping Ashido to the left.
“Shit,” she mumbles and the acid starts to change again. This time the glass starts to melt, the pieces cracking sharply in the silence of the room. Izuku flinches, keeping an ear out, but the villains must be concentrated on the other side of the hall where all of their classmates are.
Before she can get the last of the glass, Ashido faints, falling backward. Izuku catches her but this time she’s dead weight and he staggers to the ground again, ankle creaking and something snapping.
He presses his head against her shoulder, breathing heavy through his shirt’s fabric. His skin flushes, a sheen of cold sweat slicking his arms and face. His whole leg trembles at the sharp shocks of pain shooting through his ankle.
Izuku glances at the window. It’s mostly open now, the gas starting to drift out of the room. He shifts Ashido as best he can against the wall and stands back up using the wall as support.
Untying the shirt from around his face, Izuku wraps it around his hand.
The shirt fabric is woefully thin, but he doesn’t have anything else. The room is filled with file cabinets and little else.
Rearing back he punches the glass still left in the sill. A shard cuts him, red welling up sharply against the white of his uniform top. The pain makes him hiss but he doesn’t stop, sweeping away as much glass as he can, the burning cuts only on his fingers where they aren’t wrapped as well.
The bottom of the sill is clear and he gasps, stumbling on his bum foot.
“I’m almost- almost there,” Izuku reassures himself, lumbering forward to where Ashido lay propped.
She’s heavy and it takes dragging her against the wall for him to get her body close to the window. His arms shake and burn, not used to this level of activity.
Still, he presses on.
He shoves her out the window, wincing at the thump on the other side. Izuku hopes Ashido can forgive him if she gets injured from this. He grabs the window sill, lifting himself up. His arms shake from the effort and he almost loses his grip.
Gritting his teeth, Izuku forces himself up, falling over the edge of the sill and missing Ashido by a few steps. On impact he shouts, face stinging and arm tingling with pain where he landed on it.
Izuku rolls onto his back, reaching with a trembling hand for his phone. The grass outside is fresh, nothing like the pungent smell from the gas. He breathes deeply before bringing his phone to his face.
A signal.
His fingers miss the numbers a few times but eventually he gets through.
“This is 110, how can we help you?”
Tears of relief sting at his eyes at the voice.
“Hello, this is- this is Midoriya Izuku. The Kyber Museum was attacked with some sort of gas! Two classes are in there right now, plus staff!”
He coughs at the end of his statement, head pressing against the grass. His head is swimming, hearing fading in and out. The adrenaline from the fight sinks out of him and the phone slips from his limp fingers.
The voice on the other line says something, but it’s too muffled. Everything flickers in and out of blackness until finally his eyes slip shut.
---
Izuku wakes, hand flying out weakly. A paramedic hovers over him, concern clear on their face.
“You’re okay kid, don’t worry! The heroes are taking care of things now!”
His hand falls limply to his side.
The plan worked.
But what about-
“You know it was a pretty brave thing you two did,” the paramedic continues, smiling down at him, “Heroic, even.”
Tears once again well up in the corner of Izuku’s eyes and he smiles weakly under the mask.
“The girl you escaped with will be fine. And so will you! So feel free to rest!” The paramedic pats his arm gently. The warm feeling from earlier with Ashido fills him once again. Something sharp pricks his arm, but he hardly notices.
His mom will be worried over this, he knows. He wonders too what Kacchan was doing on the first floor. There’s no way he wouldn’t have fought.
But it was Izuku that called the heroes. It was Ashido and he that made the difference.
His eyes flicker shut again, a smile on his face.