Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku was sitting on the bench under twin cherry trees, on his favorite little street that was foot traffic only which made it nice and quiet, trying to sort out his life.

Well, he was throwing in a bit of stalking too but that was okay, no one could prove it.

Right across the expanse of cobblestone lane was the Second Cup Cafe, cat cuddles provided free of charge.

He giggled, it was a place he longed to go into himself one day but right now was just a symptom of his problem so, instead, he got his art pad out and got ready, if his target was going to show, it would be soon.

And right on time the black haired person slouched into view, only today he was accompanied by, ‘Ohhhhh shit, is that? No way, it can’t be, but look at him, imagine that hair up, fuck it is it is it’s PRESENT MIC!!!’

Head down with pencil to paper, his inner monologue hitting hyper-sonic, he peered through his fringe at the two men, the blond walking along like he was filled with helium and had springs in his heals, all light and connected and almost dancing, and the other one as if gravity was EXRA heavy, slouching as he cast suspicious glances around, his eyes even landed on Izuku but he’d been expecting that, it wasn't the first time he’d sat right here, just like this, to do his “Stalking fucker messed up dick munching quirkelss bullshit!”

Well, according to Kacchan, ‘No, don't call him that!’

At almost twelve Izuku was trying to break the habit of years and call his chief tormentor by his family name only, even in his head, cause he’d looked it up, and friends didn't act like that.

Abusers did.

And no abuser deserved his love, or his nicknames.

Just look at his mother, he huffed in frustration and shoved that thought out of his head and focused on his targets, suddenly catching the moment, when black eyes met green and the blond smiled and the other smirked and Izuku freeze framed it in his mind.

Now he drew, quick sure lines, letting the world fade away, turning that instant in time into a portrait of love.

It took him an hour to get it right, long enough for the two to come out again and saunter off down the street but Izuku missed their departure totally, too focused on adding to his collection.

Heroes Off Duty, he called it.

Laughing in delight when he finished, he carefully tucked it into the reinforced hidden pocket in his backpack and suddenly slumped, 'Oh yeah,' his problem, 'what the fuck do I do?'

Money was his problem, or rather, lack of same.

Well, it was a lot of peoples problems really but his mother gave him none at all, ever, and he didn't have anyone else in his life so no money prospects on birthdays and the like cause, well, he didn't get anything at all for those days either.

No gifts for Izuku.

Ever.

He did get food, and a roof, and if he was quiet and stayed out of her view he didn't get hurt so he’d learned early on to be almost invisible.

And he had a nice big room that was currently stuffed with his various projects but.

Money.

He needed it, badly!

Cause if he was going to get into a hero course he had to start training, and to train he needed things like gyms or dojo’s and they took money.

So he had to figure out a job he could do, not get caught doing it, and that was legal for someone his age to actually do so he didn't get in trouble for doing it which would get back to her and yeah, he had to NOT get caught!

Frowning he watched another off duty hero strolling along but he didn't like this one, wouldn't waste paper on him, and frowned even harder when they went into the cafe and came out again a moment late with a go cup in hand, ‘Huh, even worse than I thought if he doesn't even cuddle cats.’

Watching the flaming trash can walk away Izuku thought, ‘It’s not like anyone’ll pay me for something like coffee, think, think think think Izuku you got this, you got this!’

Slinging his bag across his shoulders he headed back to the house, it was almost time for the weekly grocery delivery and if he was late, well, he just better not be late!

Hurrying into a light jog he stumbled to a clumsy halt when his brain suddenly froze, almost face planting as his feet stopped running without telling his brain first. 

Would people pay someone like him for coffee?

*************

He’d accepted the delivery, handed over the empty crates from last week, gotten it all put away, cleaned everything again so all he could smell was pine cleaner, the one from the UK, Dettol, it smelled so strong and nice he was willing to pay the exorbitant cost of a single bottle because with the way the smell lingered, his mother couldn’t possible accuse him of not cleaning properly today. 

It might cost the earth but it had actually saved his life a few times so, yeah, he sniffed deeply and smiled, worth every yen!

Grabbing his smuggled items to take to his room he felt even more smug because he’d managed to hack the shopping system just a few months ago, getting into his mothers grocery order and, carefully, week by week, adding things he liked.

She never noticed.

For a woman who had an app on her phone to tell her every jot of energy being used in her home at any given time, she never seemed to spot the groceries getting more expensive.

In fact he’d listened to his auntie and mother bitching about the cost of food almost every time they got together, how everything always just cost more all the time.

Being stuck at those tea and chat parties, he and Kacchan at least suffered equally.

But that was his mother in a nutshell, inconsistent queen from hell, ignoring the food cost, screaming about the electricity, ignore his injuries, scream about replacement uniforms.

The list went on and on and on.

But unlike usual when he went about the job of packing it all away, only thinking about how he was going to enjoy the treats he’d ordered just for him, he thought about coffee.

Specifically, how did people get paid for making something simple like a hot beverage?

Casting one final glance around the large empty space, dark from only having a single light on, he nodded, clean enough, snapping the light off and heading with his goodies to his room.

He had research to do!

*****************

In the entire great echoing near palace he lived in with just his mother, Izuku had only his room to call his own, and he’d long ago equipped the door with some serious locks.

The window he’d barred as well, a big wooden barrier that was wedged in place, impossible to move from the outside. It did had straps that he could use to pull it free if he ever had to run from a fire but the chances of fire were low and the chances of her were high so he'd risk a bit to keep her out.

But her quirk was line of sight - it wasn't, not really, he knew, or suspected anyway, that no quirk was line of sight based but he was just starting to do the work to figure out why.

However, he was NOT going to tell her that, she really would be able to kill him then so instead he made his room a fortress, kept the rest of the actually in use rooms of the house operating theater clean, and did everything he could to avoid ever even seeing her.

And, as his mind went a mile a minute and even just sitting in one place with nothing to do was actively painful, he spent his free time after school to scavenge items to tinker with, setting out before the sun rose on yard trash pick-up days to get the best pickings and he now had five computers, all fixed and sitting linked up together, he was learning hacking now, because he’d been caught by his mother and beaten for being in the wrong part of the house again, she had cameras everywhere, and he’d read that if he….

Well, that project was going alright, he was almost ready to film his footage to insert into the house ai security program - he’d had to learn to use the actual security cameras themselves first to do the filming - but right now he had coffee on the brain!

Settling in with a chocolate bar and an energy drink, he got started with - *I want to sell hot drinks*

*******************

Blinking awake, face smooshed into the keyboard, an infinite page of 9s scrolling across from his nose pressing that key hard enough to sting, school alarm ringing and ringing and ringing, he staggered over and hammered it until it stopped.

Swaying gently he debated but, no, not today Satan, and fell face first into the bed, no one would care if he wasn't there.

**********************

When he next woke he grabbed a pressed meat bar and a bottle of water, looking at his notes from the night before and….

They were good!

He’d learned all about quantities that could be sold before a comestibles and beverages license had to be obtained, ways to market and sell various products, including food, history of the minor-market-sellers-allowance, items that historically sold best, what kinds of coffee tasted best at what temperature, creamer powder versus actual cream….

He’d even at one point drawn a cart, pride of place the beverage dispenser he’d found years ago and still had, all clean and ready for any time he needed fifty cups of hot or cold drinks. Well, he'd dreamed of needed something like that anyway, maybe a villain attach where his having them to give out caught the notice of a hero and.....

Well, no time for daydreaming today!

Glancing at the time, he next called up his tap into the security cameras and made sure his mother was gone - he didn't know where she went or what she did but at least she was gone almost all of the time now - and got dressed, he had market research to do.

Where and what times of the day did a food cart do the best?

******************************

It took two months to get everything ready, including learning to bake several simple cookies and biscuits, and to, week by week, add everything he’d need for his business venture to the weekly shopping list.

He now had everything ready on that end but still had no cart or any idea on how to get one so, instead of his computer, he set out on foot, it was yard trash day and he always had great luck finding wonderful things thrown away.

*******************

Legs tired out, he figured he’d walked miles in the predawn stillness, wanting the best chance of getting anything good before the trucks hauled it away but so far, he’d found nothing worth dragging home.

Finding himself so far from the area he lived in was a shock, he was trying to stop zoning out so much lately but to see everything dirty, cluttered, streets bustling with hurrying people - where were they all going, he wondered - and decided to just let his feet do their own thing as he watched the world go by.

Finding a mountain of stinking trash was nowhere on his to-do list but now, well, now he’d found the mother of all treasure troves to hunt through, he’d for sure find something he could use here!

*******************

It took him more weeks but he eventually turned the scraps he’d dragged home - thank you little rusted wagon with a slightly wonky wheel - into what he hoped looked like a typical street sellers cart.

It had the largest wheels he could find because small ones looked stupid and worked even worse, hard to push and almost impossible to steer.

A wooden body that he was quite happy with, even if his carpentry skills left a little to be desired but for a first time project, with only herotube tutorials to help him with, he was really pleased at how it'd turned out.

Opening on one side to give him a drop down table and access to the baked goods section, and to where his hot drinks dispenser was set in place.

It had napkins and cups and creamer (he hated it but without a chilling section, real cream would go just bad) and sugar and bamboo sticks to stir with and he’d even added an awning when he found a bolt of bright red fabric, only molded on the outside edge but the rest of it was perfect.

Having spent weeks digging through the trash mountain Izuku had laughed and laughed at how much PAINT got thrown away, cans and cans and cans of it, never very much in each one but OMG it was everywhere so, with that in mind he’d gone hunting with an actual color list and now his cart was a bright red to match the awning, the wheels picked out in gold, and it had a flaming dragon painted on the side, blasting through cherry blossoms, petals flying everywhere.

It was perfect!

************************

It was still perfect six weeks later.

It was even more perfect in fact.

Because he was a coward, and afraid, and it was all new, so he spent the time in between in practicing the different bakes he was planning to sell, testing different coffee blends and teas and how to keep them hot better and….

At least the local care home was happy, when baking twenty five each of four different kinds of goodies he simply couldn't eat them all so, as he gradually learned which ones tasted best the next day - he had to bake after school or at night so as to not get caught by her but it meant his baked goods had to wait for so many many hours until they got sold - and when he settled on sugar cookies to start….

Well, he might not have cats on his cart but he could have cat shaped cookies, so then he had to learn to pipe icing to make them look perrrrrfect, and if he was piping them already then he could make the frosting different flavors, and which ones tasted best with the simple biscuits and it all took so much time.

But he enjoyed how all the lovely old people lit up when they'd catch sight of him carrying the plastic tubs filled with sweet treats, how they all gave such good feedback on which ones tasted and looked the best.

And eventually, he was thirteen, it was coming up on leaf turning season, everything was done and researched and he had printed out every bit of legislation that covered what he was doing so he’d have it on hand if anyone ever gave him a hard time about it, and he simply could not delay any longer.

Setting everything up the night before, he wheeled his cart out the house and away down the road right before dawn, grateful for the rubber wrapping he‘d added to the wheels to make it stealthy enough to not even rattle on the unevenness of the road.

He’d decided to start at a construction site, it was only half a mile away, he knew manual workers loved their coffee, that they started early, and crossed his fingers.

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It was a nightmare!

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Worse than a nightmare!

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A day-mare horror show of EPIC PROPORTIONS because in all his research and experiments and learning and building and all of it....

He’d never thought about the one thing that was going to give him a heart attack before he ever saw adulthood.

To sell to the public -

You had to -

INTERACT WITH THE PUBLIC!!!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!

Mentally screaming, soaked in panic sweat, stammering and fumbling and on the verge of tears.... 

He sold out in twenty minutes.

**********************

It took him ten days to recover, most of it spent either in hell (aka school) or hiding in his room, he didn't even go hero hunting.

But eventually he counted his takings, threw up again at the memory of all those people laughing and teasing and shoving and pushing and figured that maybe he’d try one of his other possible locations?

His second try ended up with him at the construction site again, simply because no one on the busy street he’d marked as a possible location wanted to buy from him.

The construction people though, “HEEEEY it's the COFFEE KID!!!” bellowed the cow headed forewoman, and he stammered that it wasn't properly hot anymore so they “C-c-can hhhhave it f-f-for hhhalf p-p-price!”

“No fucking WAY kid!” she'd said, then yelled “FORM A LINE YOU HEATHENS, HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF MANNERS?”

“YEAH boss, they ran that-a-way!”

He’d giggled and poured full cups and handed out treats and been breathless and still panicking but when they all left, the huge woman had knelt down and said, voice a low almost mooo, “Good job kid, good job.”

He wasn't too sure what she meant but he smiled, bowed and grabbed his cart and started home.

The hills up were a right slog, and he decided to add a running board to ride on for the down hill bits which meant his breaking system needed an upgrade and he was so tired when he finally got home but he’d done it, done it again!

**********************

Three weeks later he was actually starting to enjoy it when something he’d been forgetting hit him like a bolt from the blue.

School

He’d hidden his cart like always in his room, he was adding new decorations to it for the festive season when he got hungry and headed for the kitchen.

Blood freezing at the voice from behind him, “What's this Mitsuki tells me about you not being in school? Are you sick Izuku? You don't look sick Izuku. Are you pretending to be sick Izuku? Or just decided someone like you doesn't need to try to make something of yourself?”

By this time he was crowded back against the cabinets and, in a desperate bid to escape, he leapt forward, trying to dodge but, well, that never went well.

Waking later, face in a pool of vomit, familiar wetness soaking his pants, every part of him was on fire, skin welted, bones screaming from where she’d reached in and tugged and pulled at them, hurting him until he’d blacked out at last.

Knowing he had to clean the mess before anything else, crying freely, sucking in deep gasping breaths, shudders shaking his entire body, the job got done at last, and he eventually got back to his room, locking the door behind himself, not even having enough left mentally to kick himself for not checking where she was.

Letting darkness claim him again, his last though was of his fucking bastard of a not friend.

He’d ratted him out, bastard!

************************************

It was the final straw.

Not with his mother because he could only ever try to keep out of her way, she was too much, too strong, had all the power, could hurt him any time she decided to but Bakugou now.

THAT was something he could deal with.

It took him three days to recover enough to actually go back to school. 

~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~

He remembered loving how good mamma was with her quirk, way back when he was tiny, how amazing she was, how she could move anything, pulling it to her, small things only but most things were small really, or made of small things.

But then, right before he'd been diagnosed quirkless, he remembered the fight, loud, angry voices, mamma and daddy, and then daddy screamed, and later there was a shrine, and Auntie told him that daddy was gone, that somewhere he was being born again as a tiny baby, that one day he might even meet him but they wouldn't know it. Even so, maybe they’d be friends.

Then the staff left, one by one, as mamma screamed at them, the groundskeepers lasted the longest, but mamma started putting up cameras everywhere, and then firing them for Izuku didn’t know what and then they were all gone, all of them, and it was just mamma and him, and she hurt him now, and her quirk wasn't good, wasn't nice, it raised welts and lumps and hurt, hurt so bad.

~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

Pulling on the hated formal uniform of the high end school he was forced to attend, even though no one wanted him there, or even cared when he didn't show up.

But, lifting the escrima stick he'd found while trash digging, the one he’d matched with a dowel wrapped with tape, he’d watched videos on how to use them, practiced on a punching stand he’d found one day and fought all the way home, despite how everyone laughed at him, saying versions of, “Hey kid, keep going, you’ll win.... eventually!”

It was even kind of funny so he’d kept going and they’d been right, he’d won.

Tucking them into the newly stitched pockets lining the side of his backpack, he set out.

His Mother was too dangerous for him to take on, but he had a target now, a legitimate target for his rage.

Chapter Text

He caught Bakugou alone, rare indeed because of his hangers on hardly ever left his side, and this time Izuku hit first.

Striking behind his one time friends legs, hitting once he was down, targeting wrists so that dangerous quirk couldn't be focused on him, Izuku hit until the kid he was hitting was screaming, cowering just like Izuku usually did, was sobbing and confused and desperate, and only then did Izuku stop, panting for breath.

The damage was impressive but still not as bad as some of the damage Izuku’d been forced to deal with, how he’d had to learn to use butterfly bandages because no one would suture him up, learned first aid one new kind of damage at a time, learning to stitch and darn and repair clothing so he wouldn't get even more hurt over the damage.

Izuku was pretty good now, a fair field medic even if he did say so himself, and he knew he’d at most cracked both wrists on the stunned speechless boy down and cowering before him.

Kneeling Izuku said, “You bastard, why’d you tell anyone I wasn't in school? WHY? Fucker, shithead, keep your fucking mouth shut, don’t you know what she does to me, what she did!”

Wanting to scream all his hurt and rage at the downed figure, instead he aimed one of his sticks at the bridge of Bakugou's nose, “If you ever mention me to anyone, anyone at all, I’ll break every bone in your body and no one’ll believe you when you tell them it was me! I’m weak K-k-kachan, q-q-quirkless, how w-w-w-ould a stuttering waste of space like me hurt someone as powerful as you?”

Loosing the stutter as he stood, and spat, only just missing his classmate, and left.

The entire school was talking about it later, how three thugs had cornered the school's strongest student, had beaten him almost to death.

Laughing silently, knowing he had a weapon on him that had proven to work against even the strongest kid in school, he even managed to avoid anyone giving him a hard time for being missing for so long, all he got were a few versions of, “Oh SHIT, what’re you doing back?”

He’d take that over his usual any day.

Of course, when dealing with Bakugou he knew he'd have to reinforce the lesson a few times, so, knowing the set like stone in his ways favorite alley where Izuku had been hurt so fucking many times, he primed it, a few days later, with four feet of solid oak, a fresh cut staff, casually leaning against the wall.

He was going to be facing off against at least three, he needed the reach.

And sure enough, as he walked past it, he was grabbed, dragged in and slammed at the wall but he'd been practicing this too, using the money he’d been earning for beginning gymnastics classes - lying about a quirk was so easy when you LOOKED rich and had a desirable address - and instead of slamming face first into bricks he bounced off the wall, snatching his staff and let go of years of pent up fury.

They knew exactly what’d hit them when he was done, their favorite victim had hit them, and Wings would be grounded for weeks, a broken wing hanging limp as he screamed, Fingers would need reconstructive surgery to repair his digits, razor tipped he was the one Izuku most feared, and Bakugou had, surprisingly, after that first explosive grab, simply run like hell when he saw the staff materialize.

The so called three unidentified youths attacking students of a high class Primary school, targeting kids aiming at the best of the best secondary education academies?

Well, the police were called in and so many kids interviewed but no one wanted to talk to the quirkless kid so, other than a few kids saying it should have been him and they shoulda killed him, Izuku was in the clear.

He rebuilt his cart from the ground up to celebrate what he’d done, decorating it for winter with not one but four stout staffs, cut from the overgrown woods he sometimes played in, not daring to use the grounds of his home in case she found out, fastening them to the uprights with two c clips each, letting them stand proud of the actual support, making it look like the awning was part of a tiny forest.

Not only did it look very seasonal now it was so much colder, but it would let him grab a staff fully, to wrap his fingers around one, to pull it free easily, and he practiced using them and his sticks like his life depended on them.

Cause they might, even only going out selling on weekends now, and still only mostly going to the one construction site, he was making enough money now to be a target.

*******************

Spring, spring and his cart was totally rebuilt again, now giving shelter from the rains that often hammered down, and his favorite construction site was now an office building, his loud scary customers gone to other places.

That plus the incessant rain was making his mood drop so low, and then it got worse.

He’d sent out applications to all the schools that accepted quirkless students, hoping against hope that he’d have a few to choose from but….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for inquiring about enrollment in our school.

Unfortunately we do not think, with your academic records, that you will be a suitable match for our student body.

Good luck on your future endeavors,

Blablabla

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d kept up his hacking, he now had a ghost of himself moving through the house, cleaning and being useful any time his mother checked in on him, and he’d learned enough by now to easily get into his own school records.

“No wonder,” he whispered, looking at the shit storm of blackmarks, bad grades, formal reprimands and teacher comments, “No wonder no one wants me.”

He’d known he didn't do well in school but none of this was real, it was all fake, made up, just to make sure he’d never succeed, “I’m fucked, I’ll never get in anywhere with it all like this!”

He spent a full week in bed, having turned off his ghost and put a letter on the counter, telling his mother he was unwell.

She never checked on him but he wasn't expecting her too.

Instead he simply let time drift, let the pain settle deep inside, and eventually crawled out of bed, and baked.

And baked

And baked

He needed the positive energy at the old folks home, an antidote to the shattered dreams all his hard work led too.

A full year of training himself for an entrance exam with the back up of general studies if he didn’t get in, all hero schools had them.

He’d requested placement in an entrance exam for twenty schools, from UA all the way down to one run by three teachers that only had eighteen students.

Turned down, all of them turned him down.

Even his backup back ups of just normal secondary schools, all of them turned him down.

If his mother found out she really would kill him, and as he’d worked it out that she’d killed his daddy, she needed to never find out.

After all, a tiny tug on an aorta, pulling the back of it in the direction of the one tugging on it, leaving the front alone, the force of the tug clamping it shut, death in seconds.

Yeah, he had to make it look like he was in school!

Grabbing his sketch pad he set about the newest rebuild, he had a tentative plan but his cart needed to look perfect!

*********************

“I spotted that kid today, the one that used to sit across from the cafe.”

“Oh, how's he lookin?”

“Like a kid?”

“Shouta, I love you but man, you gotta work harder on the details!”

***************************

Graduation, a certificate and he was free, free of the high priced hell hole that had not only made his childhood a misery but had actively sabotaged his future.

Bakugou hadn’t come near him since he’d hurt him, nor had the others, and word had gotten round to not touch him, that he was crazy, that he, well, Izuku didn't really know but it must be bad cause they all had left him alone for months now.

*********************************

“Fourteen, I’m fourteen and an entrepreneur, I own my own business!”

“Sure, it’s not being a hero, but I make people happy.”

“It’s good, I’m good, I have a new goal and I make people happy, four years and I’m free of her, four years to grow enough, to save enough, to be enough to support myself.”

He’d been reading self help blogs and recovery forums and even reached out to a few online free counselors so he was trying to use his new tools to keep the aching feeling at bay, to stave off the pumpkin scoop gouging out his guts when he even thought the word hero.

So he carefully loaded the pastries into their place, lemon, orange, lavender, and cinnamon cats, decorated with his finest piping.

Brewed the coffee and tea, he had upgraded to a double sided hot beverage holder, one side coffee, one side tea.

Made sure all the rest of his supplies were ready, dressed in his best and headed out the door.

His mother hadn't been home in weeks, so that was a plus anyway.

Ahead of him was five miles of steep up and down hill, a straight shot to his destination, and while his new muscles weren’t going to get him into a hero school, they would get him to UA.

UA plaza anyway.

Students lived on caffeine, well, caffeine and sugar anyway.

He’d spent a few weekends targeting schools, making sure he was right, and he sold out every time.

The restrictions on how much he could sell legally were starting to cramp him a bit but until he was ready to go for a vendors license, one hundred assorted pastries/savories, fifty medium cups of caffeinated and the same caffeine free hot drinks and fifty bottles of water were his limit, well, his safe limit anyway, he could stretch it to fifty more but then he'd be right at the line, and that was too close, a hundred was alright for now.

As he was still stocking his cart with his mothers grocery order, all the money he made was hidden, not in the house but behind a brick, sealed into a glass jar, in an alley. And not just one jar and one alley, no, he now had ten hidden away in the city, only he knew where it all was.

No one would find it, any of it, it was safe.

Hopping onto his cart's foot plates for the first downhill run, he wondered if that silly old book he’d just read could be turned into something real, cause if he could store the energy of his downhill, to use it to get uphill, then the trip would be fun!

Of course, his cart had to be unpowered, if it had any source of energy, like a battery or engine, that took it from an unlicensed hobby venture to one needed a zillion pounds of paperwork but, a source that stored for only an instant, just long enough to get up the next hill, energy? Well, that was worth looking into.

Setting the Centrifugal Rickshaw Driver firmly into the back of his mind, he jogged up the next incline, morning traffic starting to pick up.

He was aiming to be at his destination by the time the first students started onto campus and his target school had a very early start time.

*******************

Pausing for a long moment, emotions storming and raging inside, this was supposed to be his goal, his dream, his start to being a hero.

Instead, here he was in UA plaza, about to fuel actual students with caffeine and sugar to make their dreams more reachable. Well, the dream of getting through a day of school anyway.

Sucking in a deep breath, remembering that big brick wall of a woman in charge of his first ever successful selling of coffee who’d bellowed, “STAND UP STRAIGHT KID! IS THIS OR IS THIS NOT YOUR BUSINESS?”

When he’d squeaked “It's mine, yes!

“THEN ACT LIKE YOU'RE PROUD OF IT! ”

So he lifted his chin, angled his cart to be slightly off the main lines of travel across the vast space, and poured himself a cup, knowing the sight of him drinking a hot beverage in the cold spring air would bring him customers.

Success.

His first kid looked like a dedicated coffee drinker, and he’d chosen the combo, a cookie and a hot drink, going away with a black coffee and a lavender kitty, a small smile as he bit into it was all the praise Izuku needed to keep going.

And going and going.

His cart was empty before the first bell rang, and he quietly settled down on one of the many benches scattered about the plaza, pulling his books from the special compartment he’d made just for them.

He might not BE a student, but if he kept to this schedule, then he looked like one. And if he was going to be sticking to a school day time table, then he may as well learn things each day too, so he'd set his own course, gotten his own books, and was ready to go.

As long as his mother didn't find out, he was golden.

**************************

Week two and he was settled into his new routine, enjoying it even.

The rush as his usual customers noisily lined up, all of them wanting their favorite order as fast as possible, it was so much fun.

He was even recognizing them now, the purple string bean of a kid, the round brown girl, the tall elegant one who reminded him of the people living in his area only nicer but she only ever passed at a distance, the way so many of them did….

Once the rush was done, he’d trundle over to the seat he liked best, it gave him a great view of the gates, it made him smile just to watch the people coming and going, his art pad had never been more busy.

Maybe one day he’d get the actual heroes to autograph some of his drawings but even the thought made him blush so it might just live with the rest of his dreams, totally unattainable.

Then he’d start with the work he was currently slogging through, quirk theory.

It was the reason he’d chosen to savagely attack his own heart by pitching his cart at UA, so he could see all the amazing quirks and use them as his base for learning.

Kicking the extra section of awning into place to shelter him from the steadily falling drizzle he settled in with Govards Theory of Thermodynamics as Applicable to Emitter Type Quirks and, his phone in hand for translating the harder words, got started.

It was lunchtime by the time he blinked back into awareness, realizing he was being addressed by two of his regular customers, the tan girl and the emo crow boy.

Waving slightly he set his book aside, stretched and figured out it was still steadily raining, and they clearly wanted something from him.

“Ummm hi? Sorry,we didn't mean to bother you but, those lavender cookies, we’re both kinda addicted and, doyoumaybehaveanyleft?”

Laughing he said, “No, sorry, sold out of everything but, ummmm, I do have some of an experiment I did that I’m not too sure about, if you might like to try?”

Fishing out the rose cats he gave them each one, taking one for himself and, biting into it his nose wrinkled, still not sure if the rose paired with the basic sugar cookie base.

But as before, by bite three he was enjoying it, and ate it slowly as he watched their reactions.

“No, nowhere any bit as good as the lavender”

“I like the feeling of summer encapsulated within the ephemeral transience of something so mundane as a cookie.”

Blinking at the oddness of how a liking for a rose flavored cookie was expressed, Izuku was about to say so when he caught sight of a shadow, two yellow eyes blinking at him as it peered over the crow boys shoulder.

Catching his line of sight he sighed and said, “Shadow, what did we say?”

“No talk, no show, no fun Fumi, no fun for me.”

“Oh, hi, sorry, I never said who I am, I’m Midoriya Izuku, it’s very nice to meet you all, may I have your names too please?”

“Oh oh oh I’m Uraraka Ochako!”

“I am Tokoyami Fumikagi and this - “

“Me, ME Fumi, I get to say me! Shadow!”

“Shadow?” And Izuku couldn't help but smile, “is that your name, what you're made of, or your quirk?”

As the questions were clearly aimed at the wide shocked yellow eyes, the other two let the answer come from there too, “Name! And Me, shadow too, and Fumi’s quirk is me too so ME me me ME! All me!”

“Wow, so you're a quirk? And a person?”

“That is so RARE! That's amazing! “

Suddenly clamping his hand across his mouth he took a breath, dropped it and said, “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, its just I only just read a page in my new chapter where it’s talking about sentient quirks and how difficult they are, BUT!” He’d seen the droop in the shadow at being difficult - “It also talks about how AMAZING they are too, like, a partner for ever, and how it's worth the work because together you're stronger than anyone alone!”

The “Wow” tiny and shocked, and then it said, “Fumi? Can I like him?”

“Do you wish to like him, Shadow?”

“Es?”

“Then we will BOTH like this bringer of light to our darkness.”

“Me too, I can't wait to get to know you better,” the happy girl almost bounced, “and while I don't like the rose as much as the lavender one, it's still really really good! Have you thought about…”

From that moment on the four talked about food, until the warning bell rang and they had to run.

Watching them go, Izuku realized it was the first time he’d talked to anyone in so long, well, anyone he wasn't selling coffee to.

And savory pastries might actually be a fun addition, he could add up to fifty more comestibles, if he split them into two different kinds, and it wouldn't take him over the actual limit, just one he'd set himself so as to be safe but, well, a business had to grow right? And listen to its customers?

Swiftly swiping to his try later recipe files he settled on what he was going to try, if he did a test batch he wondered if they might like to sample for him.

***********************

He was almost attacked on his way home but the fool tried to stop him on the longest, steepest downhill on his route, and he was as conspicuous as possible too so Izuku simply hooked his legs out from under him with an escrima stick and let his cart just keep rolling down.

He made it home in plenty of time to take in the shopping, even though after weeks of it just being him home the food was starting to pile up, maybe he should add a run to a soup kitchen once a week to his schedule just to get rid of some of it, and after a quick check of the security cameras he got to work, stuffed pocket pastries wouldn't bake themselves.

******************************

Laughing with his frantic for hot drinks customers he almost wet himself in shock when a dry voice asked, “Got a license for this, kid?”

A chorus of groans rose from the small clamoring crowd, a muttered “Senseis gonna wreck this!” and he looked up, right into Eraserhead's eyes.

The remembered bellows to stand up for himself rang in his head, as did his practicing for just this kind of thing and he managed to say, “No Sama, but I don't need one.”

Seeing them about to talk he added, “I fall under the unlicensed comestibles and drinks threshold, here.” he snatched out his handy sheets, printed just for this kind of thing, and handed it over.

“As you can see the quantities are very clearly marked, and if you like I can show you the picture of today's pastries before I set out, it's time stamped and everything.  I’m very careful. Oh, and the amount of hot drinks is also well within the limit I can sell, I could even go slightly bigger with my containers, I’m about a sixteenth under the full amount but it's really hard to find just that size so I went a bit smaller, just in case.”

As he talked his hands busily poured a coffee, grabbing a lemon cat in a napkin and handed them both over.

The wry raised eyebrow had him hurrying on, “That's NOT a bribe, it's a thank you, you're a good hero and it's cold, so I always budget for three hero thank you gifts per day, and three at-need food gifts too, in case a homeless person needs a hot drink cause being homeless must be really sad.”

“I hardly ever get to give them but it's nice when I do.”

“I have all my records in an e-file, I can send them to you to prove I’m under the limit for what I’m legal to sell?”

Winding down as the hero held up a hand, frowning, “Shouldn't you be in school, how old are you and all the rest of you, get to class!”

Hearing the disappointed groans, knowing he was going to have stock left over he sighed, and then remembered the question and said, “I don't have to answer that.”

The frank surprise at his response had him hurrying on.

“According to the statutes on what a hero can and can't ask a civilian to do in a non life threatening situation, this falls under the citizens privacy act. As I am not disobeying the law, and am not in any danger, or causing danger to anyone else, I don't have to answer any questions, including my name, age or address.”

Frowning, Izuku added, “Its weird how many people don't know that!”

And the hero laughed, and agreed, “Yeah, you're the first one your age for a fact!”

“Any reason you don't want to tell me how old you are?”

And Izuku couldn't help it, he giggled, “No, I just always wanted to do that rant about what a hero can and can't ask me for, it was so cool!  You're really nice though to not get mad, I bet someone like Endeavor or Zinger woulda started yelling right away!”

“I’m fifteen,” seeing the skeptical glance he added, “well, almost fifteen, fourteen and a quarter anyway and I decided to skip secondary education and instead started my business, actually I started it two years ago, well, I didn't start selling right away, had to make my cart and be sure I was legal to do it and then had to find the right place and you really don't care, sorry, oh, here,” he handed an orange cat,” tell me if you like the lemon or orange better?”

“I’m adding a few new items, don't worry, I have enough wiggle room on adding them but it's hard to decide, and if I do add three new things then I have to take something off and it's between the lemon and the orange.”

“How many do you have left?”

“Ummm, about fifteen of each?”

“Right, bag them up, I’ll see what the rest of the teachers say, and do you have a carry tray for six coffees?”

“No, never mind, HEY YAOYOROZU,” he waved the posh girl over from where she was trying to slide past, and asked if she could help him carry some coffee to the office and she easily made a carry crate - Izuku almost stroked from how many questions he wanted to ask her - so the hero carried the coffee and she carried his entire stock of lemon and orange cat biscuits.

The hero/teacher then handed over almost double what he owed, said “Shove the change in the tip jar kid.” and they left.

Feeling overwhelmed at not only how nice he’d been but how RUDE Izuku had been to him, although the man didn't seem mad or anything, amused if anything, and sure he’d screwed up his morning sales but then he‘d bought so MUCH!

Settling in to write up the interaction, he drew a quick sketch of that skeptical expression cause it'd been funny, and then the quirks he’d seen so far, he then took a quick break, had a coffee himself, decided that it wasn't worth it to have a cookie cause he might get a few sales come lunch and pulled out his big book and settled in.

Sentient quirks were amazing, but now, after reading the resources list, he needed not one but two more books, by the time he was done he’d be a rolling library!

****************

“WOOOAH SHOUTA, Wow that looks great, is it from that stand I keep seein in the morning? Gimmeegimmeeegimmeeeeeee cookie!”

Nemuri snatched the two he held up, and Shouta said to the room, “RIGHT! The seller wants honest opinions, he’s thinking of getting rid of one of these to make room for something else, and here,” he handed the page of I’m legal, really I am facts to Nezu, “he gave me this to show he's allowed to be a vendor.”

“Thank you Shouta, but I’d really rather have a cookie, no, two please.”

Handing them over for a moment he was mobbed by the veritable children he worked with, “Honestly people, how old are you?”

Saving two for Oboro who wasn't there yet, he made sure they all had drinks too - Nezu made sure the lounge had the best coffee but what that kid was selling smelled very high end - and took a sip.

“Shit!” He looked in amazement at the cup, taking another sip to be sure, and it really was as good as it smelled.

“Someone tell me again, how is a kid making a profit with quality like this at those prices?”

“A lovely puzzle indeed, now, did you get their name?”

Entertaining them all with the story of the kid telling him, in the politest way possible, to piss off, it got the laughs he was expecting!

But Nezu was correct, the kid was indeed a puzzle.

Chapter Text

Swearing as he had to cross reference to a book he didn't have yet, because using the online version was SUCH a pest, he scrubbed his hair in agitation when he heard a giggle, “Fumi, Fumi, he looks like a fluffy plant!”

“Oh, hi Shadow, did you have fun yesterday in class?”

Having learned they were all in the hero course he made a point to ask what they were doing, and he was shocked to hear, "NO, Shadow no fun, stupid stupid-head!”

About to say sorry for being a stupid-head, he relaxed when Shadow continued, “NOT YOU, Zuzu’s nice, teacher bad, stupid, dumb!”

“A teacher at UA is bad?”

“No,” Tokoyami said, “Dark just doesn't like All Might because he said she wasn't real, but he apologized when I corrected him, and he’s been fine since then. Shadow, we talked about this, you can't stay mad at someone when they say sorry.”

“Of course you can.”

When all three turned to him in surprise Izuku continued, “Just cause they say sorry doesn't mean you have to forgive them, not if you know they meant to hurt you.  But Shadow, did he mean to hurt your feelings?”

Yellow eyes blinking an offset rhythm, she finally said, “No?”

“Are you sure?”

“Eh, think so.”

“Did it make you feel any better when he did say sorry?”

“Little bit?”

“Then take your time, make him earn your forgiveness, even if he didn’t mean to hurt you it sounds insensitive what he did.” 

Seeing everyone staring at him he ducked his head and said, “Sorry, I used to be made to accept my classmates sorries when they hurt me, and they never meant them, and I knew it, and it hurt so, yeah, sorry.”

“No don’t worry Midoriya, we understand, and it really was a butthead move” - Shadow giggled at the swear - “to say something like that to someone who is as real as the rest of us.”

There was a pause as Ochako finished talking and in desperation to keep the conversation going and having spotted the excessively large books, “Midoriya,” Tokoyami said carefully, "what are you working on?”

“Oh, quirk theory, it’s such heavy going but I love it so much! I used to just make notes on quirks I see, making guesses on how they work, but these,” he waved a hand across the three heavy tomes he had open on the bench, “these actually tell me how, and what, and why! It's so cool!”

“Like, drawbacks are at least half the time caused by a person's MIND, not their quirk at all, and ways around it, and how oh, sorry,” he grinned as a crowd started their way, “I see the interrupted coffee drinkers are back.”

“Yeah, I heard Aizawa-sensei interrupted you, did he really tell you not to sell here anymore?”

The clear worry had him yelping, “NO, no, we just talked, I’m legal and Hi guys, can I help you?”

He did have to tell them the hot beverages weren't totally hot any more but they all took a cup when he said half price for it's not being perfect, and half price on the cookies too!

At the cheers he got busy, handing out the rest of his stock.

“Don't worry you three, I brought something extra for us.”

Once he hung the closed sign up he opened his private section of the cart, pulling out a covered tray of stuffed pastries, “Now, these two are savory, and these two are sweet, I baked ten each so we can each have one of each, and then you can all tell me how you like them.”

“Can I join, your numbers’ll be even then.”

“Oh Purple, no sorry, that is so not your name” - “IS IS his name Purple HI PURPLE!” And Shadow was cooing and giggling, even reaching out for the coffee addict, cup in each hand, him trying to juggle them so he could reach out to pet her.

Learning Shadow could purrr was a wonderful thing, and he happily let “Call me Hitoshi, Shinsou is stupid!” join them.

“Great, then call me Izuku cause Midoriya is stupid too!”

“Well, I like my family name but I’d love you all to call me Ochako!”

Facepalming as Shadow chirrped “FUMI, he’s FUMI!”  He gave a helpless laugh and said, “It would be my honor if you would all address me as this one does. Fumi is perhaps not the name of the darkness but she has called me that for a long time.”

Setting out the pastries, they all tucked in.

The general consensus on them was, “Yes PLEASE!!!”

***************************

It was almost three weeks later that Izuku, feeling stupid indeed, realized he hadn't seen his mother in months.

Gad his hacking skills were coming along fine, he got into her accounts, made sure all the standing orders for bill paying and the like were working fine, then backed out of the program and wondered where she was.

Beyond wondering though, he just felt relief as he set out with his faint idea that started with a pre quirk sci-fi book, pages time-spotted and brittle, and was now almost a finished product.

A kinetic energy storage device, the power harvested by a flywheel, stored short term in an ever so slightly malfunctioning battery, it was finally ready to be set into his cart and, if it worked, then getting to and from work was gonna be great!

Three near crashes later he was reading the book again for tips on how to use his new invention.

Several tweaks later and he could effortlessly shift his weight on the rider plates, tiny rocking motions of his body to gather and store even more energy, he could do it even on flat ground now, and then, with a slight adjustment to the flywheels rotational throttle, he could let the energy back out and power the carts wheels right up the steepest hill.  The battery he’d started out with had almost burned his cart down though so he vowed to never make that mistake again!

It was only one hill he had to get off and push now as he would run out of energy before reaching the crest, but even that was fun, running as fast as he could, then swinging back onto the rider plates to fly down the next hill.

He’d had to add weight to the cart, lower the center of mass, lengthen the handles and for a prototype it was perfect.

Best of all, no one knew it was any different to his usual cart at all.

**************************

“Anybody notice the upgrades the kid made to the coffee cart?”

“Yeah, trust a support teacher to notice that, I was wondering what that extra wheel did.”

Sitting back to watch Higari and Hizashi debate what the new wheel did, Shouta simply wished the kid was actually in school.

Yes it was nice for him to be so go-getting as to start a business but a mind bright enough to do what he'd done so far, yeah, kid needed to be in school!

******************************

“SO, drawbacks, Ochako, you mentioned nausea, yeah?”

“Oh gods, yes, so bad!”

“How long can you hold your quirk active?”

“Umm five minutes? After that, keeping something's gravity away makes me sick, and ten is as far as I can go until I vomit.”

“It's really embarrassing.”

“I bet, ewww, I’m so sorry that happens to you but, gravity?”

“Oh yeah, five fingers contact activation, I negate gravity.”

Blinking in confusion, Izuku asked, “So when you activate your quirk on something it shoots off into space or does it just start tumbling in a straight line really really fast?”

A long moment of confusion and then, “No?”

Pointing to the bench Izuku said, “Sit, and tell me everything!”

***********************

Next day - after spending most of the night researching - he had a large jug of yellowish liquid and said as they joined him at lunch time, “Right, you are going to use your quirk on yourself, and for each minute you hold it you take a big drink of this.”

Confused by willing, Ochako said, “Okay!” and smacked her thigh, then she hovered a foot above the ground, taking her first drink a bit tentatively.

“Oh, that's nice!”

“Yeah it is, ginger, cause I know you said you’d tried all the over the counter anti-travel-sickness medication and none of it worked but this should, gingers been used like this for forever.”

Knowing by now his friend's hatred of math, he grinned and said, “Now, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and you have GOT TO answer them, quick as you can and there's a prize at the end for you if you do, got it?”

“Yeah, hit me!”

“OKAY! Two plus ninety!”

He then proceeded to fire a long series of easy enough to answer off the top of her head math questions, playing off his first one to make each question part of a chain, yet hard and fast enough to keep her focused, barking DRINK at the end of every sixty seconds.

In addition to that he slowly circled her, forcing her to focus totally on him.

Calling time he said, “Okay, turn it off.”

“Whooooo that was a blast Izuku, and this drink is great, and I feel okay, but it wasn't long enough to make me sick, why’d we stop?”

He laughed and showed her his timer making her scream, “FIFTEEN MINUTES?”

Her screech echoed across the square, and he laughed with her, “Yep, fifteen minutes, and I only called it then cause you all have to get back to class. You could have kept going.”

“But why, why did it make me sick and now it didn't?”

“Right, short version, when you got it, when it came in, did you get sick? Like, car sick on the way to the quirk counselors or maybe a tummy bug?”

Frowning she said, “I don't remember.”

“Well, you might not have but, if that wasn't it, then it was probably your inner ear getting used to it, like babies get car sick but grow out of it, but - ”

She broke in, “The quirk counselor said I’d always get sick, to just get used to it!”

Looking at Hitoshi, Izuku said at the same time he did, “QUACK!”

“Now, go to class, all of you, I'll have notes for you tomorrow, until then, SHADOW, focus on your favorite color in heroics today, K?”

“K!” she yelled back and they were gone.

Sighing, he gathered his books, giving himself a break to draw Nezu from where he’d seen the person sitting on Eraserhead's shoulder. They'd clearly been laughing at something, but Izuku got a chill when they’d both glanced his way.

But he was in a public place, it was legal, and it was all good!

************************

It wasn't all good the next day, sunny and bright, when a tiny girl tripped as she ran across the plaza, scraping her knee as she landed, and the cement bloomed!

In disbelief Izuku watched the little girl cry out, clutching her head, and moss crawled across the ground, thorns of blackberry sprouting from invisible seeds caught in cracks and lashing through the air, turning and flailing and latching onto the tiny crying desperate child and, clear as day, he knew what to do.

Snatching one of his staffs from the cart he ran forwards, shoving the clawing vines away, reaching out and said, "Grab this sweetheart, go on, just grab it.” and in panic she did.

Thrusting one end down to make firm contact with the pavement he let the roots dig deep, the branches spring for the sky and then kicked out, gently, shoving the child out of contact with the wood, and she suddenly yawned, hiccuped and fell asleep as he ignored the thorns and vines clawing deeply into his arms as he caught her up, keeping her head cradled so it didn't hit anything, beginning to try to disentangle her, only then realizing he too was caught.

Turning his head, wincing as thorns scraped down his cheek, at the sounds of thundering feet he saw people, heroes, UA teachers bolting in his direction, the child's mother trying to get through the almost instant hedge her daughter had created, having a screaming fit, blood pouring down her arms as she shoved and pushed, Ectoplasm grabbing her, holding her, preventing more injury and Izuku saw that he and his armful were trapped beside a beautiful young oak tree and terribly tangled into a thicket of brambles and thorns and oh, violets, he smiled at the sweet scent of the pretty blue flowers growing in the thick moss, a perfect compliment to the roses blooming in the thorns.

Whispering to his tiny burden, “You have got the best quirk, wow, you're gonna be amazing!”

Trying to figure out how to get free he settled when Present Mic yelled carefully, “Stay PUT! We’ll get you OUT! Okay little LISTENER?”

Not wanting to nod he simply stayed in one place as “Oh, Power Loader, bad costume for this job, wait, no way, wow, invisible fabric? It has to be, or some serious tough ass skin and no, look at how he’s cutting through it all, who just has a chipper shredder as part of a hero outfit?”

Mind spinning with new ways and things to add to his cart, Izuku heaved a sigh of relief when the hero reached him.

Handing over the little girl Izuku, finally free of the tangling grip of the briers, he started to rub at the trickling blood only to be told, “No, don't touch, Recovery Girl’ll have a look, we want to keep the damaged as clean as possible.”

Being escorted to his cart where Recovery Girl was working under his awning, the promised rain having finally shown up, he answered all her questions, and then he was starting to properly panic, ‘Oh, shit, never thought this would happen!’ because facing him now was Principal Nezu and the police and the EMTs working with the youthful hero and so many others.

But seeing the little girl he asked, “Is she going to be okay?”

“First, tell me your thought process for what you did.”

“And before you fall deeper into panic, you are not in trouble yet, we simply need to understand what you did. So please, in your own words.”

Not willing to make the powerful hero wait any more (trying to ignore the ominous word “Yet”) Izuku launched into his thought process, ending with, “If she was using her own energy to germinate and speed grow the seeds that are everywhere, I mean, like, spores and seeds and things are everywhere, and she didn't know how to stop doing it cause she’s little bitty then she needed to tire out, like kids on a sugar rush, just burn through the energy but the blackberry vines were going to scratch her to bits which was bad but look,” he pointed back to the tangle now being cut fully away, “that's bindweed, a kind of morning-glory, if that had gotten hold of her it would have choked her to death, and I suddenly thought of my sticks,” he pointed to the one Eraserhead was fingering before pulling it free of its clips, giving it a test swing, before replacing it.

“Ummmmm yeah, they’re fresh cut, I like the way the bark looks that way, and if her quirk was activating not just seeds and spores but the flower crown she was wearing, that's where the roses came from, then if she grew a whole ass tree it would wear her right out!”

“But that was dangerous, drain her too much and she’d die that way too so I tried to judge it, let her hold the staff just long enough for her eyes to droop, cause tired kids get droopy eyes but I must have gotten it wrong cause she passed out in my arms, I'm so sorry, I should have been faster, are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

“What is your name please?”

Still not giving the kid an inch, Nezu asked Shouta’s original question, only this time it was a situation where the question was legally binding.

Drooping, the kid replied” Midoriya Izuku, ummmmm, you're gonna want my address and things too, aren't you?”

“Indeed, although I need to finish this all up so you can give that information to Aizawa-san here, and then as soon as Recovery Girl heals you, he and Yamada will give you a ride home. With, I hasten to add, your remarkable cart.”

Turning to see the support hero kneeling to look under it, Izuku jumped when the slightly muffled voice said, “A flywheel? What's it doin’ kid, I don't see any battery but oh, yeah, I see, your storing the kinetic energy here, but that's so short term, kinda reminds me of….”

Rolling out from under he looked at the kid, “You’re waaay too young to have read the centrifugal rickshaw dancer!”

Having spoken the words at the same time Izuku laughed, and said “Yeah, I found a copy years ago, all brittle and stained, it's so cool though, took me aaages to figure out how to make it work IRL.”

Wincing as his scrapes were tended to, he missed the hero muttering, "I've never figured it out, kids got gift!”

“Now,” Recovery Girl said, “your injuries are all minor, I’ll use my quirk on you if you like,” -  “Yes please!” and then, “Oh, good, Hizashi already brought the van round, they’ll take you home, inform your Parentals of the situation, and as you clearly didn't use a quirk in the incident, you're all good, nothing else needed.”

Izuku watched closely as she kissed his hand, focusing on feeling the energy flowing through him, how the cuts felt as they zipped shut, how tired he suddenly felt, and would have helped load his cart into the big space provided by the van but two heroes did it for him as Present Mic - ‘oh gods, oh wow, he's sooo cool’ - led him to the front, making sure he buckled in, and then they were heading away.

Remembering the problem, he said, “Ummm, she won't be home, my mother that is, bu-bu-but I can have her call you when she g-g-gets h-h-h-home? Will th-that work?”

“Sure will Little Listener!” - as Izuku’s eyes closed with relief he missed the subtle signing in the front, and the clever knowing eyes studying him in the mirror.

A sudden surge of stuttering near frantic worry on the kids part was all kinds of wrong.

And later, when she did call, they sat in on the it, listening to a very calm and collected woman saying all the right things, and when Nezu hung up, and did something on his computer, stripping away the layers of voice changing that turned a child's voice into a woman's, the red flags reached dangerous levels when Nezu said, “Midoriya Inko, AKA Sidra Olai, current whereabouts unknown, wanted in conjunction to several crimes, not least of which, murder.”

***************************

Coming onto the square that next morning, fully stocked up from a bout of proper stress baking, five new recipes ready to be tried by his lunch companions, shock slammed him to a halt, because that beautiful brand new oak tree, as wide as Izuku was and towering over him, was limbless, trunk falling, falling, gone, cut down.

Watching as the clean up crew did something to pull the roots free, feeding it all into a shredder, Izuku wanted to cry. ‘WHY, why cut it down?’ he scanned the area but no, no services were impacted by it, not sewage or power or anything, it wasn't in the way, it was even sheltering the bench Izuku usually sat at.

A quick patch to the cement and they were gone, nothing left.

Numb he trudged to his usual pitch, pushed back now because others had shown up once they saw him doing it, older street sellers, experienced, all smiles and hard eyes, he was afraid of them really so now he was at the back of the line, only his regulars seeking him out but as he still managed to sell out every day, he didn't mind too much.

But he did mind the murder of the tree, that made him so unhappy, and it must have showed because the first request for coffee had everyone asking what was wrong and he saw no reason to not answer so he did, tried to anyway but then he was crying into his hands, trying to block out the world. 

He froze when someone hugged him, the conflicting impulses of shove away/ pull closer/don’t touch/touch more/good/BAD had him wondering when the last time anyone had actually touched him was.

Not fighting it, he sagged into the hug, not knowing his reaction had been spotted by observant eyes, and sniffled, “It's not fair! It wasn't in the way, it was pretty, trees are GOOD, good for everyone, why’d they kill it?”

Full on sobbing now he felt Shadow come into the hug, and smelled the featheryness of Fumi, and heard a sad hummm fom Hitoshi so it must be a not talking day for him and just let it out.

Eventually tuning back in he watched three third years manning his cart, cheerfully playing venders like they were little kids, only the products were real and not plastic, and actually laughed as Aizawa-sama handed over a HUGE travel cup, and said, “Figure out the price, DON’T short change the kid!”

Their panic was priceless and eventually Izuku had to give them a hint, “Size of my cups, number into his, the math is simple.”

A bottomless sigh as the hero said, “Add ten percent for the customer being a pain.”

“NO, no don't you dare, it's not a pain, it's nice, really!” and Izuku was waving his hands, “if anything it should be ten percent LESS cause of not having to use my own cups so, oh,” he looked flatly at the now smug hero, “you're gonna just put the difference into the tip jar, aren't you?”

At the even wider grin as the man stuffed a few folded bills into the jar, Izuku said, “Right!” Snatching his notebook out of his pocket, the small one, for fast thoughts only, he wrote a quick sentence and ripped it free.

Looking for some way to fix it to the jar he said, “Oh thanks!” when a piece of tape was handed to him, putting the note in place and stepping back, arms crossed in a take that pose.

Now, under the painted words - TIP JAR - were the words - ALL PROCEEDS TO CHARITY

Throwing his head back in a laugh, their teacher strolled away, one hand filled with various cookies and savories in a box he’d brought for the purpose, the other with his coffee jug, and all the students looked at Izuku in awe.

“You made Sensei LAUGH!”

Grinning at the retreating back, Izuku thought, ‘Well, maybe today isn't that bad after all.’

Chapter Text

Izuku's usual four lunch time friends brought a fifth with them, the rich looking girl, he’d only seen her at a distance since the first time and as soon as he saw her close up, in his position on a different bench on the side of the square closest to the boundary wall (he couldn't bare to sit across the plaza now, near where the tree had been killed) the first words out of his mouth were….

“Oh my GODS, how are you not dead yet?”

Because, under her make up her skin was almost transparent, her hair was pulled back and looked fine at a distance but closer up it was dry, brittle, her eyes rimmed in faint pinkish yellow, her skin dry dry dry.

Not even realizing he done it, he was close enough to reach out carefully and lift her lips, pressing a finger pad against her gums, to pull her head down and smell against her nose and mouth, then her hair, to lift her shirt and run his hand flat across her ribs, all the while he was giving a chuntering grumble of sound, finally pinching the skin of her stomach gently and hissing as it stayed lifted for a moment before lying down, “Shit, shitshitshit right, come here!”

Leading her by the wrist he slammed open his private section, pulling the savories out, grateful he’d added extra, “No, don't talk,” pushing the food into her hands he said, “EAT!!!”

And she did, if only to calm the crazy boy down.

He mixed a large hibiscus tea, “No caffeine, please, don't have any, not until we fix this, no! Shut up, eat!” handing her two more, after making sure she drank the sweet hot tea he'd cooled to a safe temperature with some cold water, insisting she “EAT!” Every time she slowed down, until he got six savory and two sweet stuffed pockets into her, and a further two cups of sweetened tea.

Finally sighing in relief he said, “You're starving to death.”

The starkness of the words caused a shiver to ripple over them all.

“Let me guess,” the bitterness dripped off his tongue. “Your parents don't like you to look anything but perfect?”

Her tiny nod was all it took, “That's bullSHIT! What you're dealing with is quirk backlash, bitch version times a million!” rapidly stuffing extra pastries into a bag he said as the bell rang, “from now until you come back tomorrow, eat these, and everything else you want to eat, let your body lead you, and keep drinking too. Drink LOTS but nothing, please gods, NOTHING with caffeine in it!”

“I’ll look into this and have a few things for you, shit, tomorrow is Sunday, so, eat eat eat and MONDAY I’ll have something for you, ‘k?”

Standing in a group they watched him speed pack, and then shove his cart into motion, jump onto the foot plates, and gracefully sway his hips as it sped up, effortlessly steering through the crowds.

“Ummmm, Fumi?”

“Yes Shadow?”

“Did Zuzu just say Makie girl is might die? Can Zuzu save her?”

When Momo said, voice wavering, “I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as he thinks.” no one, least of all herself, believed her words.

***************************

“What are they doing?”

Slamming into the house, leaving the cart in his room as normal he showered, changed, and then barreled into the kitchen, he had pastry to chill and then research to do.

“How COULD they, how could they do that to her?”

Wanting to rage, to scream, to sob until he had no tears left, he pulled up everything he had on diet related lash-backs and got busy, he had only a day and a bit to sort something out!

A few hours later, several specialist ingredients speed ordered using his mothers hacked account, and he was in the kitchen working.

A hero student dying of malnutrition? Not on his fucking watch!

Monday morning he was swaying with the effort to stand up as he served coffee and pastries to his hoard of loyal customers, not even hearing anything as they yattered to him and each other, only grateful when the rush ended and he staggered to his bench.

Pulling Vernons Quirk Hypothesis to himself he closed his eyes, just for a moment.

*-*

“Should we wake him?”

“He really looks tired, I mean, look at that position, even a cat would hurt like that.”

“I could make him a blanket and we come back later?”

That last one had him leaping from the bench, yelling “NO no makie shit, don't die!” and falling into a heap, only not slamming knees first into concrete because Hitoshi caught him with a laugh.

“Woah, it’s okay, see, she is right here, alive and” - “Don't say well! She's not well, not well at all but here here here, I got’s something for you!”

Ignoring how they were all laughing at his scrambled speech he dragged the private section open, holding a pastry, flaky crust, light brown filing with almost black shiny piping spiraling up the soft mound.

“I talked to my parents, tried to tell them how hungry I am, but they….”

Handing it to her, Izuku said softly, “Wouldn't listen?”

When she shook her head he said firmly, “For right now, don’t think about them, just about how that makes you feel, we’ll talk in a minute.”

“Don’t you mean how it tastes?”

“Oh hell no, I meant exactly what I said, now, go on, try it.”

All of them watched her sniff and then take a tentative bite, only for her to blink in shock, taking a much bigger bite, eyes closing in bliss, and finishing it in three more bites.

“Okay, tell me how it felt.”

“Not how it tasted?” Ochako tried again to correct him.

“No nonono we aren't testing recipes, I need to know how it FELT!”

“Amazing.”

Momo’s usual poise was gone. She looked at Izuku as if he’d hung the moon, “Amazing,” she repeated, “like, my mouth feels cool, rounded, the pain here,” she touched her breast bone, “it’s not gone but so much less, my mouth is happy?”

“Good, perfect, now, drink half this,” he handed her a cup, “same thing, I need to know how it makes you feel.”

****************

The pastry was like nothing she’d ever experienced, rich, meaty, a sharp sweet note twining through it, mouth feel of the pastry crisp between her teeth.

Almost bereft of words she didn't think Izuku could surpass it but then the drink hit her tongue like nirvana.

She didn't know what an alcoholic felt when they took their first drink but she thought it might be like this, gasping in shock at the fizzy, sharp bright round fruity fading to floral and the pain in her throat was gone, gone almost all the way to her stomach, and she frantically gulped at it, fighting the hands who tried to get her to stop drinking, spilling in her struggle and she whined, a high thin cry of loss, only to be soothed with another thing in her hand, and she snarled as she ate, keep away, mine!

Then the drink was back, this time she wasn't letting go, hunched over it, and her hand had more chew food, the other had the drink, no one was in her way, no one trying to stop her, kneeling on the floor she ate and drank until she could go no farther, fit nothing else in, and eventually she blinked, and would have fallen into shame but instead, Izuku was kneeling right there with her, smiling like the sun, saying, “Perfect, that was perfect, how's the pain?”

She whispered, “Gone?”

“Proof then!”

“Proof?”

“Yep, your parents were starving you to DEATH to preserve your image, any good QC should have caught it, like, by the time you were fucking FIVE, sorry, shouldn't yell, but I just get so mad, now, look.”

Holding up one of the pastries, he said, “I went with duck liver, it's really rich, would have preferred rabbit but that’s really hard to get, rabbit breeders usually keep that bit for themselves or its sold with the rabbit meat, one dead rabbit, one liver, and I needed lost so duck liver it was, fried gently in butter, a bit of garlic and white pepper, then blitzed with triple thick cream.”

“That solved the fats and protein part but you are clearly suffering from multiple mineral deficiencies too, and I needed a sharp note to lighten the filling and to add minerals too so went with raisins and figs cause they are both deep rooted plants, so they have a very high mineral content which I also needed, ratio of five to one raisin to fig, blended smooth, a touch of honey added to make piping easy, and did a spiral inside the liver pate.”

“But, each one I gave you had different ratios, pate to fruit, and the one that seemed to satisfy the most was the one like this,” he held up a pastry with a beautiful chrysanthemum piped on the top, and even full she wanted to reach for it but she stopped herself, she’d had so many already, and instead he handed it to her, saying, “Eat slow, okay?”

Nodding he watched for a moment, then said, “You are also badly dehydrated, and while raisins are good, you need lots of minerals in a form you can easily absorb them, so I started with chelated minerals, normally targeted at people who’s quirks take from their body to make things, like you do.”

“But it's nasty, like, yuck!” They all laughed at his disgusted expression.

“So I added ginger, and elder flower and real honey to add a touch of sweetness, no lemon cause I don't like ginger and lemon together, despite how people love to pair them together, but clove and nutmeg paired really nicely.  And I made another one with hibiscus and white pepper. I gave you both and you didn't seem to care which you drank, just that you had more.”

“I can see you are really good with makeup, I can see why no one realized it was happening but, this ends, now! You should be four, even five TIMES your current weight, a Valkyrie goddess, not a society twig!”

Handing over a stack of pages, he said, “Recipes, both for the filled pastries, oh, they have real butter, spelt flour, a blend of nut flours as well as a touch of red fife and emmer flour. I tested about ten different blends but this one I mixed up? I really LIKE it, so much more nutrition than normal wheat flour, a few other recipes to try as well, actually, see if Lunch Rush will make some of them for you, and the drinks too, they're easy enough to make, just follow the steps but make sure to get PROPER chelated minerals, not the rubbish stuff they sell cheap.”

“And talk to Recovery Girl, AND Aizawa-sama, cause he’s supposed to keep you safe, like, move into the dorms here if your parentals won't feed you properly, just cause you get a ride home doesn't mean you have to go home, right? Especially if you're not safe there!”

The first pain free moment in years, a stranger with worried eyes reaching out to her, seeing her, that was when Momo’s poise failed, and after acting like a starving dog she howled as she broke, being held tight as sob after sob tried to shatter her.

She’d believed them when they said the pain would go, that she was fine, to eat only her diet, to be perfect for them, they’d almost starved her to death.

The rest of her classmates present joined in the hug, and finally, reluctantly, they all went back inside, leaving her savior behind.

It was so wrong, him being outside and not with them, so wrong!

*******************************

“Shouta, come here please.”

The day had been long, and hard, and he was seriously worried about several of his class, and the kid outside the gate, and they were all looking into that shit situation but, Nezu was right, for now the kid was in a safe place, a home with a top notch security systems, and was busy working hard, they had time to figure it out, but the members of his class that had so many red flags, he was going as fast as he could but it all took so much fucking TIME!

And today Momo had requested to stay in the dorms, to not go home, and she had told him why.

A gut punch, he’d missed it, watching her take the makeup off with a wipe he’d given her, the difference was shocking, frightening.

Then she’d told him about what Midoriya Izuku had done, how she’d gone brain empty reactive, eating like, well, for a child to be so starved for what her body and quirk needed to survive, not even to thrive, simply to live, that she’d acted like a starving animal given food for the first time in too long?

He’d hugged her as she cried, assuring her she was safe, they wouldn't get her back, she was a ward of UA now, safe and sound and she’d never go hungry again.

But the day had been long, he was grateful that Nemuri had taken the task of settling her into her new dorm, and now he had to deal with a Recovery Girl staring at a bottle of…..

“Tell me why that kid isn't in my health class?”

Not even having to ask which one he said, “What is that?”

“A mineral drink that tastes good, tastes fantastic in fact, a drink any kid would happily take, and while they drink it for pleasure it helps rebuild their bodies and minds.”

"Mineral deficiencies are the most common cause of poor health linked to quirk drawback, and that kid has managed to take a foul tasting medicine and turn it into the next craze, not health craze, just the next thing all the kid’s’ll be drinking cause it's nice.”

“Here, try it.”

Wrinkling his nose in distaste because he’d tasted things like this but, “NO, Shouta, drink it!”

Taking a careful sip he blinked in surprise, the next few came with a smile, and before he knew it the cup was empty and he wanted more.

“It's reacting almost instantly in your body, as soon as it hits the soft tissues of your mouth, and the lining of your throat, and so on, the minerals being absorbed and speeding their way of the damaged or lacking parts of your body.”

Seeing him looking at what was left she smiled, “It's like an instinctive reaction, your body wants more, and the good thing is, you can't actually drink too much, because the amount of liquid simply flushes the excess right out of your system via your kidneys.”

“You need it, drink it, and you feel better and become healthier.”

“And a kid invented it, and gave it to us.”

“Gave?”

“Yep, with a note, Nezu had the fifth year business course onto it, partnered with the culinary classes, it should hit main stream marketing within two months. All he said about profits is that if there are any he’d like a quirkless charity to be given some funding.”

Reaching out, Shouta snagged the bottle, draining it in one long go, and growled, “Someone needs to protect that kid!”

Striding off, he went to find Nezu.

He failed to get in, even hammering on the door got him no response other than - “Go AWAY SHOUTA!”

That tone? Shouta went.

***********************************************

Izuku didn't even get the chance to set up next morning before his ever growing crowd of people showed up, carefully leading someone new, someone dazed and smiling and making soft wheeeee noises.

Grabbing two bottles of his new drink he said, "Bring him over here! HEY, BIG THREE! YOU WANNA BE CART KEEPERS TODAY?”

Leaving the cart in good hands, they went to the benches and Izuku carefully examined - “Denks,” Shadow chirped, “call him Denks!” - the new one and found he too had problems, not as bad as Momo but he too had a yellowish cast to both eyelid and the white of his eyes, his skin too was dry, and as Izuku gently tugged at a lock of hair, it broke between his fingers.

Not dangerously dehydrated though, not yet, but he held up an open bottle of his new drink, letting the kid smell it, and then had to force it into a proper position when they tried to climb into it, biting at the neck and sucking air until he tipped it, letting them have sips and sips and sips as, eventually, the kids eyes flooded with realization of where he was.

“No it's okay, I’m Zuzu, sorry, Shadow names us all, she said you're Denks, is that okay?” 

“Yeah, s’kay.”

“Right, good, okay Denks, they were telling me about your quirk,” dazed golden eyes looked around at the group of his classmates, not even spotting Aizawa-sensei standing in the shadows, “and I’m gonna tell you a few things and you tell me if I’m wrong.”

“Like a game?”

“Yeah!” Izuku cheered, “The best kind of game, no way to lose!”

The blond was coming more into his proper mind and he grinned, saying “You're cute!”

“Ahhhh now, that's the brain fog talking!” Laughing Izuku then said, “Your QC told you to focus on maximum quirk output, right?”

“Yeah, how'd you know?”

“Aaaaand they said your quirk has no nutritional needs to function properly.”

“Wow, you psychic or something?”

“No, I just know how this goes now, how stupid people are.”

“Next question, what is the lowest output you can do for longer than say, a minute?”

“Easy peasy dude, phone charging, I c’n do those for hours.”

“Mhmmm, and can you send a tiny shock to my finger?”

Holding it about ten inches away Denki looked a bit worried as he studied his hand, until Izuku said, “Oh wait, I forgot, here,” he wet his finger and Denki’s’ with something he didn't let the boy see, and said, “Ultra conducting gel, I carry it for my carts engine, now, just a tiny spark.” And Izuku accentuated the word spark, just enough to hopefully get what he needed from the steadily recovering boy.

Smiling in relief at having the help of whatever it was on his hand, he easily sent a tiny spark out, hitting the target without difficulty.

Moving back, and then back again, and again, it was only at ten feet that the tiny spark died before hitting its target, and Izuku said, “GREAT! Next, drink this and we’ll focus on your overloading cause that is NOT what's happening!”

Chuggulugging the amazing drink, smiling at how it made his mouth feel all cool and fresh, he asked, “Wha'd'ya mean?”

“You are not short circuiting, you are buffering.”

“How’s that any different?”

“I’d show you the references but that 'ud take too long, just, your quirk is trying to protect you, grabbing your mind and wrapping it up, cause your quirk wants to live, your body does too, and what you’ve been doing has almost killed you every single time you go, what was it, whey mode?”

“Yeah, whey mode is when you would have died if your quirk didn't buffer your brain.”

“You are not working with electricity, you are moving energy! Right now you’ve been using your personal energy, and damn, yeah, but the spark, here, give me one, just set it on my palm.”

All of them looked at the firefly, glimmering on his palm, and Denki said, “Hold on, where's the gel?”

“Butter.” Izuku said as he gently poked the spark.

“Butter?”

“Yep, all you needed was to believe I had something you needed for your quirk to zap, so I used butter, it's nice and shiny so did the trick perfectly.

“Once I got you out of your head then we could see how far your spark could go, and it proved you’re manipulating energy, not electricity, and now you can work with a proper QC and learn how to take the energy all around you, like sunlight, or wind, or water and shape and use that, instead of your own.  Right, Aizawa-sama?”

“Right, in fact, UA is in the process of staffing an entire QC office, focused on quirk drawbacks instead of performances.”

“Now, no one is in trouble, but the second period bell just rang, your cart is empty Izuku, and you all need to head back to class.”

*******************************

Late to the afternoon staff meeting, Shouta slammed in and said, “WHY ISN'T HE IN THIS SCHOOL?”

A folder slapped to the table, spilling its contents across the surface, and Shouta picked up - “What the fuck? How many detentions?”

Staring at the page, he heard the so-called symbol of peace huff, saying with a pained sort of a grunt, “Quirkless.”

Looking up Shouta was shocked to see disgust, and contempt on the mans face and was about to go to fucking war when, still looking at the scattered pages, the big man said, "Let me guess, the kids a trouble maker, jealous of his peers and their powers?”

“He instigates fights, steals their stuff, distracts them from their work.”

“Oh, and he probably steals too, a thief and a liar and a cheat.”

“Stupid too, cause quirkless are. Any good grades? Cheating. Any bad grades well, they are all so stupid you know.”

Picking up a page from the pile he said, “No one ever asks how, when ONE kid attacks five classmates, how they are the only one injured.”

Poking another one he said, “Or how when he steals so much, why does he not have everything he needs for class?”

It wasn't disgust at the kid, Yagi, Shouta swiftly realized, was fighting tears about how the kid was treated. “I have campaigned for proper school oversight for years, for equal rights, for one rule for all, and it's helping, but so slowly.”

“Let me guess,” he looked up at Nezu suddenly, “he applied here didn't he?”

“Yes.”

The stark word made everyone tense even farther, “Yes he did.”

“This is the automated reply he received, I checked,” the page slid where everyone could see the words, the polite way they said no thanks, we don't want you, “he applied to over thirty schools, anything he might conceivably be able to reach, both hero focused and general education, all of them sent versions of that, a thank you, no thank you.”

“We get a quarter million applications every year, the computerized pre-selection process weeds out almost all of them.”

“I had it set," Nezu continued, "set to flag files like this and bring them to me, because this kind of shit is always a set up, but when I checked on why it had not come to me, I found a worm, tiny little bit of organic code, that simply erased the target and sent it instead to a bin.”

“It threw it in the trash.”

“THAT, Shouta, is why he is selling coffee at our gates instead of being part of our student body.”

“And we are fixing the hell out of that NOW!”

His snarl was met and matched by their own.

*********************************

Learning the entire process of getting the kid as their own would take three weeks, they decided to wait to tell Midoriya Izuku himself until his place was legally ready for him, once that was done there was a place available in support, heroics, and medical.

Any or all, it was up to the kid.

************************************

Handing out drinks, smiling at how healthy Momo looked as she took her hot tea and savories, Izuku felt his brain freeze and his blood boil when he heard…..

“Yo yo Mo mo, looking a bit fat there, might wanna trim down, I know some guys like fat chicks but they don’t wanna roll you in flour to find the wet spot, am I right?”

By the time the short purple kid with a head covered in balls was done talking, every eye was on him, rage palpable the air and Aizawa and Mic were about to fall on him like a ton of bricks.

Izuku managed to grab Mic sama, “Wait, the girls were telling me about him, how he was booted out of the heroics course into gen ed cause of what he was saying, and doing, and I’m not excusing it but, just listen.”

Kneeling Hizashi said, face serious, “I’m listening.”

“Right, his quirk, called, ummmm - pop off - yeah, pop off, it's called, well, everyone thinks it's sticky, right?”

The voice hero nodded so, relieved the man was listening properly, Izuku asked, “But what if it's not?”

“Because if it was just sticky then they'd all be sticky, like Sero’s tape, all the same, but Fumi was saying they were all different, so it can't be sticky or glue so what if its ATTRACTION?”

Blank confusion met his statement disguised as a question.

“Ugh,” rolling his eyes Izuku said again, “attraction! I’m just guessing but if his quirk is attraction based, misdiagnosed I might add, well, quirks are stupid, and teenage boys are really REALLY STUPID!”

“So if his quirk wants to attract, and his hormones are attracted to pretty girls, and he’s suffering from, oh, shit, can’t remember the name but it’s a really rare kind of lashback, like people with Pika trying to eat glass or rocks and shit cause they are missing out on calcium or magnesium.”

“The human body is really really stupid sometimes, and I’m not saying he's not a creep or awful because what he said was horrible but just, have him checked for things before you boot him out?”

“Little listener, anyone ever tell you you're really nice?”

“Ummmm, no?”

“Then I’m glad I get to be the first because you,” he smiled gently as he booped a freckled nose, “are really a wonderful person.”

***************************************

Izuku thought for most of the night's baking session on how he could be a wonderful person, simply for wanting to make sure the kid with the balls on his head really was awful before being disciplined for his actions.

He and the gang had spent quite a bit of time reassuring Momo that she was beautiful, and Izuku had even shown her the drawings he'd done of her at his ideal weight for her, his favorite one with her in full breast plate armor, winged helmet, huge horse in full war attire in the background, and she’d not laughed.

He’d expected her to laugh.

Instead she said, tears choking her voice,” It’s beautiful Zuzu, I’m beautiful.”

That did it, he was crying then too, and it was another hug pile - they felt so good, a hot press of affection to someone who’d had none for years - and then, wonder of wonders, he was sketching out costume ideas, postulating some of the newer fabrics, and it was all so much fun, until the speaker right overhead cracked to life and sent them running.

Setting out his perpetually much loved cat biscuits to cool before decorating, he smiled tiredly, he’d just do the prep work for next day, not bother with his physical training today, take a nap, and then load the cart.

Then he’d look up that rare quirk drawback he still couldn't remember the name of, and then a short session on hacking and coding.

First though, a nap!

**********************************

He was a quarter of the way to school when the world blew to hell and back.

Covered in dust, ears ringing in the silence, he saw, as if someone had slammed a bowl down on a city of ants, one building down in rubble, three others carved as if invisible blades had cut them down,he could see right into the still standing buildings outside of the wall of shimmering force, inside the heaps of rubble lay, while just behind him he could feel the sizzle of force, and snatched an escrima stick to poke it.

A snapping crackle and he lost the end of his stick, not even a flash, and he was yelling at everyone he could see, “DON'T TOUCH IT!!!”

Grabbing the first few people he could see he aimed them around the giant circle, pass it on, don't touch the wall of force, it’ll take your hand off, put people on guard to keep people from touching all along, please, hurry, don't touch, pass it on!

Then it was all work, helping, grateful that three retired pros lived in the area, two in the downed buildings and one just out jogging when it happened, because they set up a triage array, and Izuku handed out all the first aid materials he had in his cart, and then jumped in with a stout staff of oak to lever up a slab of stone, braced and shaking as he held, and held, and held as someone crawled in to the sound of screaming, holding until they came out, child clutched in safe arms, letting the slab down carefully, passing the staff away, then all of them gone, being used to save lives….

The wall was fading, still dangerous, he’d shown how to test it, his escrima sticks long gone now too, and he was hitting the quick release lever, his two extra awnings becoming a sandwich stretcher, holding a spinal patient secure and unmoving….

He was up and stripping the main awning off the instant it was needed, and the main uprights were gone in an instant later too serving as braces and supports and the quirked bubble of force exploded in a shower of sparks and emergency services could finally get in.

Being asked as he was guided to an EMT, “Where do you go to school, kid?” and replying without thought, “UA.”

Not being able to fix his mistake when they said, “Yeah, I should have known, their brand of crazy is all over you kid, now, scrub hard when you get home, dust like this is dangerous, they say all the masks I see are because of you? Great job, don't know why you'd have a super jumbo box of masks but you probably saved some lives that way alone, now, go home, if you get breathless or light headed for any reason, get to a hospital, and be sure to stop in your own clinic at school, you're checking out fine right now, blood glucose a bit low but nothing some good food won't fix but it never hurts having a second opinion.”

“Now, head home, shower, eat, drink, and rest!”

Pushing the sad remains of his cart, even the drop down sides had been taken and used for something, he didn't know or care what, just that they'd helped and he couldn't stop smiling.

Even feeling like he’d been hit by a truck from how hard he’d worked didn't change how he felt, he’d helped, used his mind, muscles, equipment, and helped.

Crawling into bed after a very long shower, he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

*******************************

He spent three days on a rebuild, stuffing in all the things he’d wanted over the time he’d been using it at the disaster site, as well as the weeks and weeks at UA, extra first aid supplies, a larger private section for his books which just kept growing and the food he now brought for his friends and himself to eat at lunch, awnings that didn't just drop into position but could be folded down for a protected area, not large but almost everything resistant, a more powerful ratio of gear to return, better control of his cart, no more near freewheeling down hill, it should be totally controllable both up and down hill now, brand new staffs to replace what they'd used to help people, and new escrima sticks too.

Having slowly begun to believe his mother wasn't coming back, he did the work in the living room, used her accounts to order specialist materials and components and paid for near instant delivery.

Working straight through the first night, and only snatching naps from that point on, he got the job done, the cart restocked with food, brewed the coffee and tea, filling the brand new drinks dispenser, adding the solid state heating element he’d finally managed to work the bugs out of, it would insure the beverages were near boiling for at least five hours!

He’d even managed to work in foil dangles symbolizing the four seasons to hang on each corner, glittering and spinning in the wind.

Pride!

It filled him, and excitement too because the cart was so much better looking now, perfect even, he smiled as he rode it all the way, his swaying building momentum, powering for the uphill runs, he laughed at the wind in his face, and only didn't skid to a sliding halt because he didn't want to mar his new wheels.

His cart was swarmed, mobbed, and he was so busy telling everyone about it, the attack, his rebuild, and serving drinks and snacks that he didn't notice the teachers headed his way, until…

“So, UA?”

‘Oh crap,’ feeling the color draining from his face he almost fell into a bow, “I am so sorry!”

Lifting from it he barreled on, “They asked what school I go to and it just fell out because I do come here every day, well almost everyday, not Sundays cause I use Sunday to bake new things and train and do rebuilds and stuff but I didn't mean as a student but they thought it was like that and I should have said something cause of course you wouldn't have someone like me here, I’d never be smart enough to go here, I mean, look at them!" he waved at the students passing all around the, "they’re all so amazing, they belong here but at least I can help a bit and give them all drinks and stuff so please don't make me go, I’ll find the people that were on site, I’ll make sure they know I’m not part of your school, please….”

It was only when hands gently took his that he realized his eyes were closed, and someone was saying, “Izuku, take a breath, that's it, now, another, good, there you go. Now, you are not in trouble, far from it, as far from it as possible, you did good, so good, and now we are all going to go inside, Maijima is gonna take care of your cart, and probably grade the upgrades if I’m being honest, and we,” Present Mic gestured to himself and Aizawa-sama, “are going to take you and go talk to Principal Nezu.”

“You have helped so many people little listener, so many students, that drink you invented is already helping people, Mineta does have that weird name thingie, he isn't a pervert, just has quirk confusion, and all those people at that villain attack, you are amazing but, sweetheart, it's time to let someone help you now.

Being led in through those big gates, surrounded by his friends, his hand being held by one of his all time favorite heroes, Midoriya Izuku was led to his future, and it was not lonely, or empty, and he helped so many many people.

Chapter Text

It was that fucker, that quirkless stupid insane fucker.... selling COFFEE to Azawa-sensei?

Katsuki knew Izuku - not Deku, not since he got into a counseling program - he was unmistakable and that was him, handing over a steaming cup!

Feeling shock fizzing through him, he wondered if his counselor had an emergency slot cause seeing that green hair, he needed to see her now because, as much as he'd resisted in the beginning, his parents had insisted when he got “attacked by three rando hooligans” and he’d gotten, well, the lie had worked but….

To have been defeated, easily, that first time by a kid he’d kicked and beaten for years?

He'd been enraged, practically frothing at the mouth, little fucker got him by a trick, it was a fluke!

So Katsuki had gotten his two friends (not friends, enablers, he knew that now) and grabbed the fucker for a proper beat down.

Izuku had beaten them all, three against one, quirkless little stick figure chewed piece of string nothing fucker had beaten them all, in less than five minutes.

Not one of them laid a finger on him.

Living with two fractured wrists, and then that defeat, his parents being worried about him now made sense, back then it had been one more brick on the wall of shame, crushing him, making it so hard to breathe.

Two years of help now though, Katsuki was doing so much better but he hadn’t seen the fucker, no, not fucker, kid, person, not friend, victim, a person he used to know, but he’d learned and didn’t ask his parents about it, knowing it would get back to her.

He never knew she hurt him, like he used to hurt him.

Why was Izuku selling coffee?

Why wasn't he in school?

Couldn't he get into school?

The realization hit Katsuki like a hammer, of course Izuku wasn't in school, no matter how much money Auntie Inko had no school took the quirkless, no matter what they said, they just didn't. Rubbing his wrists at the phantom pain, he stood and looked at the person he once knew, saw how good they looked, how they laughed and joked and smiled.

How they looked healthy.

Regret an ache in his bones, Katsuki turned to go to class, suddenly wanting coffee but knowing he’d never ask that person for it, he didn’t deserve to go near him.

Taking out his phone, he slowly texted his therapist, it felt like he was drowning but maybe, just maybe, he might see Izuku again, even if just from a distance, could make sure he was okay, maybe even talk to Aizawa-sensei about him, if anyone could get someone quirkless into a school it was Katsuki's favorite hobo.

*******************************

Yamamoto Satoshi

Looking at the name Nezu felt rage like he’d never felt before, pure, hot, sickening.

ONE person, just one.

Raised by a single mother, a quirkless woman doing the best she could, he’d been teased and bullied in school for it.

Then, he’d turned fourteen, and she’d died, simply walked in front of a bus.

Suicide or not, no one knew.

But that age was so unpredictable, and in this instance a mother he'd resented had left him, abandoned him - even if only in his mind, his point of view - and he hated her for it, but without her to turn that against, he turned it against all quirkless.

A mid level bureaucrat in the Commission’s main office, he used his quirk to implant a simple, elegant, parasitic worm program and sent it, one school at a time, across Japan.

He’d been working on it for thirty years, school by school, he’d even gotten it into hero schools, although that was only for about ten years, but it was enough.

No quirkless person could get into higher learning in the radius where Satoshi worked his anti-magic, and that one person, that one change, the knock on effect was incredibly powerful, rippling across the societal layers like an invisible cancer, a subtle poison.

He could hear someone talking now, saying something but, Nezu had failed them, gasping for breath, failed them all, not seen, not heard, left them to hurt, to die, to struggle and fight so hard and in the end to die alone and hurting, believing the lie of their worthlessness.

Someone was taking his hands now, only their danger from his claws letting his eyes open, seeing Shouta kneeling, breathing exaggerated, his fingers pressing a rhythm against his hands, still saying words that Nezu finally started to listen to, Shouta was so good, so kind, worth listening to always.

“….n’t know, no one did, you are not alone in not seeing it, not your fault Nezu, not your fault at all, now we know, now we all know, we can help, help them all, think it through, leave the emotions to the side for now, just logic, just plans, what first, what second, what nex….”

Letting Shouta’s voice fade away, Nezu planned now, setting emotion aside, what first, well, arresting that fucker was first, public evisceration and humiliation and societal reformation, spreading guilt and shame to everyone in the country, EVERYONE should have seen this, not just Nezu, Shouta love was right!

Settling into a deeper trance, Nezu set out his plans, revenge and reparation for the quirkless of Japan.

It was about fucking time!

*****************************************

“Shadow, catch!”

Watching yellow eyes widen with joy as she caught the large, extra strength rubber ball, Izuku and his friends watched her play for a while, and then he said, “Hit the ground with it!”

“NO, shan't!” 

“Silly Shadow, you won't hurt it, it has magic inside but you gotta hit the ground with it to see!”

It took all of them a good few minutes to get Shadow to even risk her pretty, eye wateringly bright ball touching the ground but when she finally did, hitting it hard enough to spring it back at least six feet into the air, she gave a strangled sqeeeeee when it lit up, flashing an ever changing pattern of colored lights, bright enough to see even in the daylight.

As they all smiled at her glee, watching her make it go again and again, Izuku leaned over to Fumi, “You should be able to use it as a reward, we already know she’s afraid of the dark, and I think developmentally she's only about eight, if she was human that is, and I know it makes no sense but sometimes quirks are like that, so if you use positive reinforcement, and play, and show her the dark isn't scary, you should both be a stronger team.”

Sighing Izuku continued, “I know it’ll put you behind the rest of the class waiting for her to grow up a bit more, but at least we now know you can communicate via mind to anyone, not just her, that means you have more time to learn how to use that, and to make sure she’s happy being a hero team.”

“Yeah,” smiling as he watched his now confirmed, actually honest to god SISTER, Fumi said again, “Yeah, she gets a say too.”

**************************************

He’d been a prisoner of his quirk for years, at least three, and he’d watched and heard himself doing and saying things that made him sick.

Sex, yuck!

But now he was free, free and safe and it was all due to the green kid, not even a student, or a teacher, or an adult, just some kid.

Quirkless.

A quirkless kid had seen him, heard him say something horrible, had seen his nightmare and made sure someone helped him.

Surgery, and dietary supplements and behavioral re-training.

Now he was free, at art school, and able to use his quirk to make beautiful paintings, filled with imagery of love and longing, not sex but emotions.

Mineta Mineru

Artist

He loved how that sounded.

************************************************

Being dragged by Momo to see some kid selling coffee, Shouto almost planted his feet and refused but, well, she was looking so good, so happy, and healthy so, he let her lead him.

No one was ever going to be able to help him but maybe, just maybe, someone could tell him how to avoid frostbite when using HIS ice full on.

That really would be nice.

Being examined by the kid, well, few people risked his frosty demeanor but this one seemed to not even notice, he even touched Shouto, his hands, his face, arms, even kneeling down to grip his ankles.

Then he said, “Tell me about your quirk.”

So Shouto did, all about his ice.

“What about the heat side of you?”

“I don't use it.”

“Why?”

And something about the kids' puzzlement broke the words loose, “Because I’ll never use that bastard's fire ever again!”

“Fire?”

The kid looked even more puzzled so Shouto repeated, “Yeah, his fire, I won't use it again.”

“Oooookay, then, let's have a look at your ice.  Will you make me a column, oh, say this big around,” a gesture of hands, “and this tall, and make it as pure as possible, like the stuff they use for ice sculptures.”

Blinking in surprise at the very specific request, he did so but it was hard, so much harder than expected.  His father was all about big attacks, “BIGGER BOY, do it again, BIGGER!”

But this was hard in totally new ways, and fun too, the column started off almost white with air defused in the ice, but he’d figured out how to make it more clear as he’d grown it, finally ending up with almost pure ice at the top.

“Oh very good, perfect even.  You learn so fast too, look at how clear it is when you finished!”

And the kid had done something, measuring it somehow Shouto thought, and then said, “Okay, I need you to make a ball, this big, but first can you get rid of the column, we can't have ice cluttering up the square.”

Shrugging, Shouto ran his other hand along the ice, heating the air hot enough to flash it into steam, and it was gone in an instant.

“Perfect, now, nice and clear, as perfect a sphere as you can manage.”

That was harder again, but he managed it, and he knew the kid was going to have him melt it too but instead Tokoyami’s quirk stole it, laughing like a crazed thing, and he had to make another one, by which time his hands were losing all feeling.

Relieved when he was told to get rid of the ball, he was totally unexpecting to be told, “Right, so, how big a space can you cool down to forty-six degrees F?”

Asking Momo to make him a thermal reading gun, he then put Shouto through a grueling series of requests, ending with how much of an area he could heat up to ninety-seven degrees, again so weirdly specific that Shouto just did it, cause it was easier than trying to understand.

Life was like that for him, just do it and figure it out later.

Being handed a hot cup of tea, he cradled it in his achingly cold hand as he got a lecture, not on how his quirk was his, how it belonged to Shouto and no one else, because he’d gotten that one so many times it made him sick to think about, but on how his quirk was WRONG!

Not his quirk but his understanding of it.

Listening to how flames were a byproduct of heat, not heat themselves, how his entire body controlled thermodynamics, how his bilateral coloring had just confused people, how if he just did it, not thinking, just made ice with his hot hand, then, he stared in baffled amazement at the sphere of ice his was holding in the WRONG hand, “See, it’s ONE quirk, not two in one body, now, put the ice in your other hand and heat it up, please.”

The please was tacked on, an afterthought, and Shouto felt his lips curl up at how focused this kid was, and, it took work, was hard, and both his hands heated up instead of one but the ice was gone.

“Good, good, you can focus on control later, for now, concentrate on heating the area around you, just a bit, and then cooling it down again, that way you get used to using your entire body.”

“You don’t ever need to use flames, they are useless for most of heroics, but heat? Heat is amazing! Even if all you ever do is make a warm area for disaster or villain attack casualties and to keep your own temperature properly regulated, then that’s all you need to do.” 

“Practice though, lots of it, cause if you can make an ice barrier, then you can make one using heat too, and even if you never need it, if you go up against a cold quirked villain, you’re gonna need to be able to use heat in attacks, even if you don't do it often.”

A bewitching smile met his and he felt his heart do something very strange, like his newly named thermodynamic control quirk was melting the ice around it, and his lips curved up ever so slightly, cause this was amazing.

But nowhere near as amazing as the seller of coffee was.

***********************

Sato never thought to wonder about it, just dealt with it, but when Mina dragged him to a coffee vendor cart, pushed him forward and yelled, “FIX HIM TOO!”

Then he did wonder because….

His mind turning off when his quirk turned on, that really did make no sense at all!

The green haired kid, Zuzu they all called him because of Fumikagi’s quirk loving nicknames and no one being able to tell her no, so with a wince he’d agreed to call him that too, and then Sato was buried in questions, struggling to find the surface, almost drowning

But he’d managed, even if half his answers were versions of, "I don't know.”

Once he was rung dry he was sent back to class after being told “I’ll have something for you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” he’d agreed, baffled and faintly hopeful because honestly, becoming stupid when he got strong, that was just so dangerous!

Next day, he and Zuzu shared recipes, rattling them off and chattering non stop about how great baking was, and then he’d been given some little bit of heaven, told it was a middle eastern dish, adapted for easy eating, and should give enough sugars to activate his quirk but balanced with enough proteins to counterbalance the so called stupids, “Oh, and drink this too!”

Having the increase in physical power, without losing his reasoning functions, had him crying, and when Zuzu said, “And once you get used to this we’ll try some experiments cause your quirk can’t really be diet based, cause that makes no sense at all, but it’s an easy prove/disprove, I have six experiments that’ll prove it one way or the other and, oh gosh, here, everyone, he needs a hug, NOW!”

He cried again when Midoriya Izuku proved later that week, without a shadow of doubt, that his quirk had nothing at all to do with diet, but by then they were all expecting that.

********************************

It was a full week into having Midoriya Izuku as a practicing member of his class - hybrid student, support, medical, and heroics - that his new foster son asked him quietly if they could use a secure room for a talk, please?

As the kid was still getting over learning his mother really was a villain - other than suspecting she’d killed his father, there was no proof up until then for him to confirm or deny - and that she was finally confirmed as well to be deceased….

And wasn't that a discussion indeed, up to and including the kid insisting that, as he’d been alright for months on his own that he should just go on as he’d been doing, only as a student instead of a vendor, that he didn't want to go into the system, it would be so bad, he had his family fortune, the estate and all, that he was just fine…..

Yeah, no way were they letting a kid this touch starved, as well as all the other red flags waving, keep living alone, so in an attempt to compromise, they assured him he wouldn't hit the system, that he’d be placed in a foster situation with some of his new teachers.

Himself and his husbands, in fact. Shouta chuckled at the memory of practically knocking down anyone in the way of them signing on the dotted line to make the kid theirs!

It was a struggle but eventually they won Izuku over, not just promising to keep him clear of the system but the clear bribe of being a UA hero student, effective immediately - although it wasn't a bribe at all, it was only what the kid deserved!

So it was a settling in period, and they were managing just fine, and the kid looked so much happier, even if his new foster fathers made sure he didn’t research and build all night long which had caused a few discussions on what was, and wasn't allowed, due to health reasons, not just as arbitrary meaningless rules.

Managing indeed, and simply enjoying having the kid, both in his home and in his classroom.

Walking to the secure meeting room, he ushered his new foster son inside, and set the defenses into motion.

“Alright, we are now in an impenetrable bubble of nothing-in, nothing-out, we have exactly twelve hours before the air runs out, longer for the lights which, honestly, has never made any sense to me, but if you want to say something now that no one else on earth, not even Principal Nezu, can hear, lay it on me.”

“W-w-well, I-I-I mmmmmmean….”

“Okay, stopping you there, sit, hot chocolate good for you?”

Already knowing their new fosters sweet tooth, he was putting the kettle on, “It’s not the really good stuff, we make that at home with milk and hot chili flakes, but it’s not too bad, Nezu has it made special for these rooms but it has milk powder instead of real milk, something about being out of the world doesn't mean you don't deserve good stuff but putting fridges in seldom used rooms just for milk to go bad in is silly, or some shit like that.”

The almost soundless giggle made him smile, his back to the kid, hands practiced as he made the hot drinks, Hizashi suffered from bouts of anxiety, as did he himself, and Oboro loved liquid chocolate goodness so much so the ritual of hot drinks was a familiar one.

“Now," handing over the mug Shouta said, "for each sentence you give me, I want you to take one drink, one for one, got it kiddo?”

A shaky nod and the kid finally managed to say, “Y-you’re quirk, ummmm, sorry, not right, gotta back up, no,” he took a sip, smiled at the taste, and went on, “RIGHT! Your quirk, it’s wrong. Sorry, but it is.”

*sip*

“And I wanted to talk about it here because if I’m right then you don't want anyone hearing about it.”

*sip*

“Because I don’t think your quirk uses your eyes at all, I think your QC got it wrong.”

*sip*

“In fact, I know they got it wrong.”

*sip*

“But because these rooms have quirk dampening fields in them we can’t test it yet.”

*sip*

“But your eyes, your hair, your capture weapon, the way you move, all of it, it’s all mental based with a physical component, NOT your eyes though, that’s just a visible sign of the damage you’re doing when you take all that power and shove it through them.”

*sip*

“Your actual quirk should consist of a field, an area, and be more perception based, but you’re using it to move as well, so it has some telekinetic elements, as evidenced by your scarf.”

*sip*

“And the easiest way to see if I’m right is to try to use it with your eyes closed.”

*sip*

“You can do that when we get home,” (home, something warmed the shock in Shouta, the kid thought of their house as home already) “easy peasy, just have Hizashi hum with his quirk on, I love how that feels, and you try to turn it off with your eyes closed.”

*sip*

“BUT, and this is important so we don't get it wrong again, before you even try to activate it, feel how far you can feel around you, not the space but the quirks.”

The kid tried to take another sip only to look in the mug with a betrayed expression when he realized it was empty.

A frown and he continued, “I think you should be able to feel the space you're in too, like the way you can feel air moving just a little bit, or how people can feel storms on the way, but even stronger, not a shock wave but, uuungh, bad at this, words are so stupid….”

“I get it kiddo, I think I get what you're saying. It’s like how I can feel my capture scarf, I know every inch of it and where it is in relation to me, like that but for space, yeah?”

The relief in the kid's face did make him smile, “Yeah, just like that only with more fine details.”

They shared a smile then, and then Shouta washed up the mugs, tidying the area, and they went home, and tried it.

Later that week, using what his new kid had taught them all about his quirk, he felt the ambush that would have taken both he and his newest intern out, a murder attempt they both not just survived but caught the bastards responsible.

It's not often when a kid can change your entire world AND save your life but with Izuku, they’d learned that anything was possible!

***************************

Six months into his being an actual student at UA, Nezu arranged a special guest and a tiny ceremony to mark the changing of the seasons, the guest of honor being the almost five year old Nema-chan who, with the help of her quirk and another of Izuku's oaken staffs, grew a beautiful young tree to replace the one the city works department murdered.

Izuku cried, as was to be expected.

Chapter Text