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Izuku does not go to the beach as a child, or certainly not after his Dad leaves, and so he does not remember much, if anything, from when he could have potentially gone to the beach, or to mountains, or most places really. He and Kacchan and Uncle Masaru have been hiking, sometimes, but not very often at all, and after Kacchan exploded Izuku's bag by maybe-accident when they were nine that stopped too.
So to see Dagobah Beach clear, wide and sandy and beautiful, is something novel to Izuku. Novel, and lovely, and very much rewarding.
Izuku did this. He can't say that about many things in his life, not with true and unfiltered pride, but it's true for this, at least, and he can't help but smile as he unlaces his shoes, chattering with Toshinori, excited to just spend a day enjoying the beach rather than ending up in a gross sweaty pile of over-exercised aches.
When he dips his toes into the ocean moments later, a cleared beach behind him and Toshinori grinning not even three full paces away, the sky big and bright above, he is not expecting the frost-deep shiver that runs up his spine, shuddering out to the very tips of his fingers and tingling at his ears. He gasps, and the air in his lungs feels wrong, just for the tiniest second.
He doesn't get another thought in before he's nigh-on falling forwards, reaching for the water, needing it in a way that he cannot describe, cannot fathom, only know it with every shivering inch of his bones and every fading breath in his lungs and every beat of his riotous heart.
All at once, the world is cold around him, cold and rushing and stinging against his eyes, and Izuku thinks that he might black out for a few seconds, because there is no world around him, only blue-tinged darkness, and he cannot breathe, cannot think, can only push himself deeper and deeper and deeper, the blue tinge fading, his head threatening to burst because there is so much pressure all of a sudden, so much noise and weight and he doesn't think that he's breathing, doesn't know why his everything suddenly aches so fiercely, burning with nothing less than absolute ice, glacial and seizing-up.
Before he can process it all enough to start to panic, there is a hand catching around his arm, tight and bruising and desperate, but Izuku knows that warmth and so he does not fight it. No, he lets it drag him up and up and up-
Fresh air hurts, for a long minute. Izuku gasps and chokes and feels his neck flutter, and Toshinori is still holding him tight, is babbling panicked, worried, kind words that Izuku can barely hear, let alone process, too lost in how he is choking, in how entire swathes of his skin itches something awful. The cool water helps, a little, but it doesn't fix it. Nor does it fix the aching irritation of it, but he's too busy trying to breathe, to be coherent, gathering his wave-scattered thoughts as best he can, to really process any of that in a way that is meaningful or likely to stick in his head later.
“Izuku, my boy-” The words are beginning to register, and Izuku is nodding as he grips Toshinori in return, idly starting to kick his own legs as well, helping them both stay afloat as best as he can. (Something is odd about his feet, he thinks, because they move more slowly in the water than before, catching more water, and there’s a peculiar sensation between know his toes where there shouldn’t be anything to feel anything with at all-)
Toshinori is still speaking, however, and he shifts one hand, briefly, to cradle Izuku's cheek, thumb brushing over something rough along Izuku's cheekbone,
"Izuku-shounen, it's alright, it's alright, just keep on breathing my boy, please, I'm here, I have you." The words help, arguably more than they should, and Izuku finds himself calming down, even just a little bit, enough that he can nod, gasping out a single word,
"Beach-" Toshinori nods as well, still clutching Izuku close enough that it's almost a risk for how the man is kicking his legs to help keep them both afloat. At least Izuku is short.
"Yes, my boy, just swim as much as you can, don't worry. I'm here, Izuku-shounen."
Izuku keeps on breathing, and starts properly kicking his own legs, although in all truth he still lets Toshinori do most of the work, admittedly, because his body still feels oh-so wrong, his stomach roiling on top of it all. Has he swallowed sea water? He isn't honestly sure, but there's a salt-strong pang at the back of his throat that makes it feel like he must have.
It doesn't take as long as it feels like it should to be trying to stand on sand once again, the two of them staggering out of the frothing ends of the waves, then onto dry sand entirely.
Izuku is exhausted, far more than he by any rights should be.
And in contrast to the shivers that are wracking him, Toshinori is warm, and so Izuku lets his head fall forwards until it comes to rest upon that warmth, the itch along his temple abated by the solid heat of it, no matter that Toshinori's shirt is soaked right through.
"You're alright, my Prince of Nonsense, you're alright." Izuku revels in how those words rumble around him, delicate and kind and solidly there, and in the hand that smooths up and down his spine, slow circles with callused fingertips and reliable warmth. He can hear, far louder than he should be able, Toshinori's heartbeat, and it is slightly too fast but it's also steady. It's reassuring. Toshinori is alive, and alright, and Izuku is too. Things still aren't right, but that's okay. He- He isn't alone. It's enough.
And so Izuku continues breathing (and listening to Toshinori's words and heartbeat and the blood-air-rush of his entire body too-), and tries not to let himself get caught up in the many, many things that he can feel that aren't as they should be.
It proves impossible not to, though. Because those patches of skin are still itching, and his eyes still burn, and his neck... something is cool and fluttering along his neck, and his hands and feet hurt in an illogical way. His hearing is... it's intense, far stronger than it's even been before and he doesn't think that it's just the adrenaline making everything seem stronger.
It isn't normal to be able to hear the movement of someone else's blood, right?
"Izuku, my boy, are... are you sure that you're Quirkless?" The question makes no sense at all for a blink, except they're drawing apart slightly and Toshinori's face is gentle and concerned, and Izuku must have said the hearing thing out loud, he thinks. (He doesn't know it, hasn't really processed it yet, but there are smattering of scales alongside his freckles, his irises ringed in a blue almost as vivid as Toshinori's own, hair sitting slightly longer and tighter-curled than it ever was before-)
Then he starts to actually process what Toshinori has just asked him, and has to mentally pause, to drag in a breath that has his neck trembling in a way that should be impossible.
"I- I was." The hero nods without so much as a pause, accepting Izuku's words, his hands still broad and kind around Izuku's shoulders,
"Then have you been hit by a Quirk, do you think? Anything in the last twenty-four hours, most likely?"
"No. No, I-" Izuku hiccups the next breath, nearly gagging at how his neck does that fluttering thing again, unable to help but reach a hand up, to delicately prod along the side of his throat, and there are thin flaps of skin that hurt to press too harshly against, and they make no sense, no sense at all. Why would he have gills? Particularly when he can still feel air in his throat, against his tongue, shifting too quickly back and forth in his nose. He's breathing.
"Gentle, Izuku-shounen, gentle." One of Toshinori's hands moves to delicately catch Izuku's wrist, tugging it down slightly,
"You don't want to hurt yourself." And Izuku agrees with him but also he's busy trying not to panic about the gills on his neck.
"Toshi-san, did- Did these manifest when I touched the water? Or when I got in it?" The man's expression is sympathetic, a tilt of his head to match,
"I'm sorry, my boy, I don't know. It wasn't immediate, but they were there by the time we surfaced again." Izuku drags in another deep breath, trying not to let the triple-draw of it panic him too much, as he nods,
"Right. Okay. Okay."
Izuku is grateful, then, that his hero doesn't press, doesn't try to make him explain the chaotic thoughts in his head, not right now.
No, Toshinori gives him time, just keeps that kind, grounding hand on his shoulder, the other slipping down to hold his hand properly, and it's the room Izuku needs to think through everything, and to try and understand what this could be. And there's only one explanation that makes that much sense.
"I- I could've had a latent Quirk. I haven't been to the beach that I remember, so maybe, maybe it took water to activate? I haven't encountered anyone new on a close-range recently," he knows that he's starting to ramble, but he cannot help it, needs to think this through as logically as he can,
"I didn't leave the house yesterday. I don't- I don't think it could be an outside Quirk."
"Right." The hero breathes deeply as well, something that Izuku mimics without a thought,
"Okay, my boy, that's okay. Do you want- Do you want me to take you home?"
"I... Please."
Izuku isn't expecting that request to result in Toshinori, moving very carefully, to outright scoop him up, hitching Izuku up into his arms, perched upon the man's hip so that none of his limbs can dig into Toshinori's scarred side but he is also very much undeniably being carried. If he wasn't so... so not-right, he would probably argue against it in some way, if only because he doesn't want the hero getting tired, particularly because he isn't in his Strong form right now and he gets tired far more easily in his Small form and Izuku doesn't want to be a burden-
Toshinori is already moving though, picking up their belongings with his other arm, and walking carefully up the beach, careful not to slip on the sand and send them both tumbling.
Izuku gives directions without much thought at all, glad that his Mum won't be home because he loves her to pieces and she loves him but also turning up with a Quirk and a man that she has heard about and talked to on the phone but not actually met in person yet... It wouldn't be ideal, right now. Izuku is barely even coherent some minutes, still.
(There are scales on his skin. They are a blue-tinged green, and slightly rough when he smooths a fingertip over them, just little patches of solid curves that are thicker than most fish would have, at least any that Izuku has seen, and those on the edges of the little patches are softer, smoother, paler, more settled in a way that has them more naturally blending into his skin. His nails are a little darker too, something grey-blue like storm-shed seafoam, a little thicker. His neck- his gills still flutter.
He isn't how he used to be. He isn't Quirkless, like this. Izuku doesn't know how he feels about that, in all truth.)
Maybe that lack of true coherence is why, when Toshinori has dumped both of their belongings in the genkan, and shaken the worst of the sand off of both of them prior to going in, Izuku lets his hand stay tangled in his hero's shirt, the words tripping over his lips without much intention but every aching strain of sincerity all the same,
"Can- Can you stay, Toshi-san?" The hero doesn't so much as falter before he nods, hands gentle where they stay supporting Izuku even though he's sitting on the sofa now,
"Of course I can, Izuku-shounen. Is there anything you want?"
Izuku falters then, in all truth, because he could still very much spiral right now, honestly, panicked and unsure how to deal with any of it, but equally he doesn't really know what will fix this, what will help. How is he supposed to deal with this? He's Quirkless, and Toshinori was going to give him a Quirk and Izuku just has to keep breathing. Apparently picking up on that, Toshinori sinks into a crouch, leaning in a little bit, eyes oh-so kind, as bright as the ocean that had consumed him only minutes before but is so utterly gentle now,
"Would you like a hug, my Prince of Nonsense?" A breath catches at the back of Izuku's throat, a swell of salt, his fingers tightening in his hero's shirt,
"Please."
Neither of them say another thing after that, no, Izuku just curls into the warm chest and the warm arms and kind hands that encircle him, the already-familiar heartbeat a loud, heady thing against his ear, one that he absolutely and shamelessly revels in.
He's going to have a lot to deal with, like this. He's going to need to figure out his Quirk and talk to his Mum and get his legal status changed and after so many years as a Quirkless person, so much hatred and discrimination and failed friendships-
It doesn't matter right now, he thinks. He can let himself breathe, revel in the gentle heat of it all, and listen to Toshinori's breathing and blood and heart. Things will be okay, he hopes, between his Mum and having the Number One Hero on his side, willing to support him. Izuku thinks it will be okay.
And, hey, at least he has a new Quirk to analyse and, hopefully, use to help people!