Chapter Text
"The ways a connection with the Magic are utilised are usually categorised into Arts and branches. The Arts are the bigger categories, each one an umbrella of sorts for abut four different branches per Art. Some have less, some have more. There are, as far as I am aware, ten different Arts. Energy, Displacement, Destruction, Creation, Illusion, Mind, Flight, Sky, Necromancy, and Time."
The shimmering wisps of purple and gold-tinted clouds curled through Kurogiri's outstretched fingertips as the man spoke, and Izuku listened.
"The Magic was fading fast a long time ago, long before the age of quirks, and what little was left, the leftover energy it gives off was being accumulated into the atmosphere with every spell cast. That residual power eventually found its way to weave itself into living things. Humans, specifically, and the occasional animal. And now, enough research has been conducted, understanding enough of the magic-caused mutations, gifts or curses in disguise, that it's no longer called 'magic.' Humanity has reached enough of an understanding of the way magic can alter the base of a human and create a 'quirk,' that it can now be called science.
"The Magic bounced back to strength once the amount of 'Magic-wielders' started to dwindle, and, funnily enough-" Kurogiri cracked a smile at Izuku, who smiled back, "-the Magic fading away is what caused 'Magic-wielders' to become far less common, instead replaced by quirks, something far more manageable for the Magic, despite the amount of quirked humans far more than what 'Magic-wielders' used to be. It's more passive, and quirks manage themselves on their own - they're not usually sentient, but they are alive in a much weaker sense than the actual Magic, and usually keep themselves in check."
The man's hair was a dark, wispy purple that day, unlike the slightly more usual pale, cloudlike blue. He changes it with the Magic if he feels like it, something Izuku has seen many times and occasionally even the colour change itself in the moment.
Kurogiri seemed lost in thought for a moment, eyes trailing over past Izuku's shoulder before snapping back to himself.
"Anyways, I think I got sidetracked there, sorry. Back to the Arts. Ten kinds- no wait, I wasn't getting sidetracked, I was actually going to go somewhere with that information-"
Izuku couldn't help it. He laughed, and though he tried to keep quiet about it Kurogiri still looked up at the sound, and laughed too, a genuine laugh at himself.
"Right. So. 'Magic-wielders' weren't born with Magic within them. They're born with the capacity to harness the Magic around them, just as all people are, to some extent. That's why learning to 'harness' the Magic can be unpredictable, and sometimes dangerous, with high chances of it backfiring and blasting out raw, unfiltered power. Idiot humans back then didn't realise that the Magic didn't want to be tamed." Kurogiri rolled his eyes and Izuku mimicked it. The clouds twisting around Kurogiri's fingers continued their lazy circuit, like a bored snake.
"Everyone is born with the ability to harness magic in some way. Every human's connection has many 'facets' to it, though most only have one or two that blur together and create a quirk. Which facets, and what Arts a person is able to focus the Magic into, a person has, well that varies greatly from person to person, though some of the most powerful 'Magic-wielders' in history were said to have been able to clear every facet of their connection, even slightly, to be able to harness every Art through which to channel the Magic."
"So... what facets do you have? Is that right?" Izuku asked, hoping he's grasping an understanding of the lesson right. Kurogiri nodded, snapping the fingers of one hand into a fingergun aimed at no one in particular.
"Bingo! I have, uh, the Arts I can access through my connection is the Art of Sky, of course, but also Destruction, Illusion and Mind. Mostly just one branch for each one, though I've got two that I have two branches for. Clouds, naturally 'cause it's my natural quirk, and Storms, those are the branches of Sky that I've 'unlocked,' and I've got Disguise and Unnoticed for the Art of Illusion. Those are the only Arts I've got multiple branches going for, the other ones just have one. Destruction, all I can do is Implosion, Displacement is Portals, and Mind is Mesmerisation."
The clouds around one hand dissipated as he lifted it to rub at the back of his head, a little awkwardly all of a sudden. "...Mesmerisation and Unnoticed don't really count for the ones I can use on command, because those ones are kinda going full-time to keep my 'forgettability' spell up."
Izuku nodded slowly. "That makes sense. What do the 'branches' of your other Arts do? What kind of Arts do you think I'll have the facets for?"
"That remains to be seen, Izu. The only way to find out is through either testing to see if you can grasp different Arts, or by essentially 'manifesting' the grasp of a branch through some event or another, usually one with high-strung emotions." At Izuku's slightly disappointed but also curious and excited look, Kurogiri tilted his head from side to side. "If you want a potentially easier place to start with finding the Arts you can grasp best, what's your mom's quirk? Or your dad's?"
Izuku tilted his head too, but kept it to one side. "Why?"
"Because quirks are usually genetic unless there's a mutation along the way, and quirks are just a really tunnel-vision, rounded over version of the facets of a connection to the Magic, right? Maybe you'll find an Art that one of your parents' quirks would be mostly focused from to be easier to grasp than an Art with no connection to you at all." Kurogiri suggested, and Izuku considered. It's a plausible idea, and hey, Kurogiri's the expert!
The man in question laughed at the words of Izuku's mumbling. "Oh man, I'm not an expert, more of a guy with just a tad more experience than others because no one does this kind of thing anymore. Except us."
"Except us." Izuku nodded sagely. "My mom's quirk is a minor telekinesis quirk, she can pull small objects within range towards her. And I don't really remember my dad, but mom told me he could breathe fire."
"Okay, we can work with that." Kurogiri had nodded back once, decided. "We'll start with working on The Arts of Displacement for Telekinesis and Sky or Creation for an affinity to fire, and we'll test from there what Arts you might have other affinities to..."
That had been almost six months ago, and still no progress. Kurogiri says he's thinking about it too much, instead of actually opening the connection. 'if you were dropped into the middle of a river, you wouldn't stop and think about swimming, you just would do it,' the fluffy-haired man had explained.
The more Izuku thinks about that, the more he thinks Kurogiri might be right. He is overthinking it. He just doesn't know how to stop overthinking. Thinking has been one of the only things Izuku could do that he's good at for a long while.
He has managed to get his body to be faster now, and a little stronger, a little more agile, thanks to the physical training that Kurogiri has instructed him through. With the man's help, Izuku now knows he's never going to be a head-on brawler sort of hero, so he should work on what lines up with him the most, which is more agility and speed.
Of course, he's still building up muscle however he can without overdoing it - Kurogiri had caught on that he was doing more than he was supposed to for exercising, and he'd gotten an uncharacteristically serious lecture from the man for it.
His phone buzzes on his desk, and Izuku looks up from the book he'd been idly reading while he counts the lifts of the small lifting weight in his other hand. He sets down the weight and book and picks up his phone.
It's a message from Kurogiri. Multiple messages, in fact.
7:43 PM
Magic Man: Meet me at the beach tomorrow morning before the exams
Magic Man: I think I've found something that might help you
Magic Man: WAIT did you change my name?
Greanbeen: Think of it as karma for changing my name
Greanbeen: I still can't figure out how to make it go back to normal. It's even worse because you didn't even spell it right
Magic Man: It makes it unique!
Magic Man: Well jokes on you little guy, I like my new name! :D
Greanbeen: Nevermind then. What time should I be at the beach?
Magic Man: I'll be there an hour and a half before the exams are supposed to start, show up whenever you want or can
Magic Man: But I think what I've found will be helpful
Izuku sends a thumbsup emoji in reply. He hopes that whatever Kurogiri's found will help, since despite now being able to sense and interact with the Magic a little bit, he still can't cast anything, hasn't found the Arts he's most naturally inclined to.
He goes to bed early that night, long before his mother comes home from her shift. He leaves a note on the fridge to tell her this. It's untouched when he gets up the next morning at six-thirty, gets dressed and eats breakfast before heading out to the cleared-out Dagobah beach.
Kurogiri is waiting for him, standing at the top of the stairs and watching the ocean. He turns as Izuku jogs up, and smiles warmly. "Good morning, Izu. Ready for the entrance exams?"
"Doesn't feel like it," Izuku groans, running a hand through his tangled hair - he'd tried to brush it, he really had, but he swears it's some level of sentient and just tangles itself again instantly out of spite no matter what he does - and nodding at the travel mug in Kurogiri's hand. He can smell the drink in it, which is odd, because, "I thought you didn't drink coffee, Kurogiri."
The man laughs, lifting the mug in question in an almost 'cheers' motion. "Thought I'd try it today."
"And what do you think of it?" Izuku enquires the only logical follow-up question. The face the currently purple-haired man makes is answer enough even before the actual answer comes a beat later. "Awful. Don't drink coffee, Izu, though who am I to tell you not to try new things." He takes a drink from the mug as a point and tries to hide a look of disgust and a mumble of "I don't even know how Sho drank this like it was the only thing keeping him alive. No doubt the amount he drinks has only grown, I'll bet."
"Though," Kurogiri continues conversationally, "I've heard it stunts growth, which luckily won't be a problem for me, it's not like I'm getting any taller anyways."
"Says the man who is always more than a head taller than me no matter how much I grow." Izuku mutters. Kurogiri laughs. "You haven't grown that much, I'll have you know. 'Sides, I've always been naturally tall. It's a talent." He looks far too pleased with himself at his six-foot-six height.
"Just for that I will be trying coffee. Anyways, you said you had something that might help-?"
The point of this meeting, as amusing as the conversation so far as been.
"Oh! Right! Hold this-" Kurogiri practically shoves the travel mug into Izuku's hands so he can dig through the pockets of his old looking purple coat that's somewhere between an aviator's jacket and a trench coat.
"-Uh, which one did I put it in- aha!" He triumphantly withdraws his hand from an inner pocket of the coat, a gold chain tangled in his fingers.
Dangling from that chain is a simple metal disc, that looks to be made of copper and has faint markings etched into it. With his free hand, Kurogiri takes his travel mug back, and lifts the pendant to his own eye level above Izuku's, watching the early morning light play off of it.
"This is a Focusment Amulet, or at least I think that's what it's called. I don't actually know what talismans like these were originally called, but Focusment Amulet is what I'm calling this one."
Izuku cranes his neck up slightly (an unfair amount, really), and tilts his head. "What does it do?" Something involving the Magic, most likely, as the 'breeze' causing the pendant to sway and twist on its chain is not affecting either Izuku or Kurogiri.
Izuku has known the Magic long enough to understand that it's a bit dramatic when it comes to subtle effects, according to Kurogiri when Izuku had asked.
"It's supposed to clear and sharpen the wearer's connection with the Magic. It's like, think of a connection to the Magic like trying to divert a small stream away from a great river, talismans like these are supposed to help clear that stream to help it flow better."
"I thought it might be helpful. I don't know what's going to happen today, but the Magic sure seems anticipating." Kurogiri's connection with the Magic is stronger than Izuku's, naturally, and apparently the man can sense slight senses of things from the Magic at times.
"I only managed to get ahold of this the other night, but I've been looking into them for a while, even since before I met you. I had to make sure this was legit, though, because if it was fake or something cursed, well, that's not something I would have felt right giving you."
"But it's fine? It's a real one?" Izuku asks, and Kurogiri nods, lowering the pendant down to Izuku so the boy can hold out his hands to take it. The metal is cool in his palms, and he can feel a faint feeling of energy from it, a slightly weaker sense of the Magic emanating from it.
"It's real. And it's copper, too, which is good. It's not gold, at least the part that matters most isn't but it's not supposed to be gold because that kind of defeats the purpose." Kurogiri taps one finger on the side of his travel mug. "I think 'Magic-wielders' back before the age of quirks thought that the more precious the metal, the stronger that would make the spell." He snorts. "That's not it, Izu, remember that. Flashy and seen as more valuable is not what is really needed, at the base of it all, especially when it comes to Magic. Function works best, and copper is a good conductor of energies, not just electricity."
"I'll remember that," the green-haired boy promises, lifting the pendant to gaze at it himself, before he lifts the chain and fits it over his head to settle around his neck, copper disc - the important bit - resting over his heart. "Thank you. But- will it work? Even if I haven't found my Arts yet?"
"Can't hurt the chances, yeah?" Kurogiri shrugs, though his face is understanding. "I know you can beat the exams even without the Magic, but in the off-chance you don't get in, then... we'll have more time to work on your connection, yeah? And UA's entrance exams are the first in the year for hero schools, so it's not like it's your only option."
"Look, I get it-" he counters before Izuku even opens his mouth, holding up his free hand in a surrendering motion. "UA's your dream school, it was mine too and I have every belief you'll make it in and be great just in general all around, but I also had a fallback plan to go to another hero school if I hadn't gotten into UA. It's not that I think you can't make it, but it's good to consider possibilities, even if they are small. Foresight of the Art of Time isn't one of my skills, but I've learned it's very useful to think ahead."
Izuku, who had opened his mouth anyways to protest, snaps it shut in surprise. "Since when are you this logical? And you went to UA?!"
"First of all, ouch," Kurogiri laughs, not really offended, "I know I wasn't exactly known for my rationality back in high school, I had a friend who constantly pointed out my lack of it in fact, but I've gotten better at it! And yes, I did go to UA, did I actually never mention that?"
"Uh, no, you didn't!" Izuku exhales in a mix of excitement and mild offence. "What course were you in? What was it like? Oh! Do-"
"Hero course," Kurogiri says proudly, before his face drops minutely, into a brief expression of long-buried sadness. "I didn't graduate, though."
"Why not?" Izuku's thoughts decide to bypass his brain-to-mouth filter like usual, and he's about to apologise when Kurogiri simply says, "I... dropped out. That's when I cast my whole forgettability spell."
A million questions about his mentor's past are bubbling on the tip of his tongue but immediately after that first slip Izuku had put his brain-to-mouth filter on full lockdown. This seemed to be a, well not really sensitive, more like an old wound long healed into a scar, but still not a comfortable topic, and Izuku doesn't want to pry.
Instead, he clasps his hand around the thick copper disc around his neck, the metal edged with odd ridges that he pays no mind to at this moment, and says "Thank you."
It's time. The day has come.
And Izuku is nowhere near ready.
"You've got this, Izu." Kurogiri assures him, patting his shoulder. A light not-breeze ruffles Izuku's hair, something he's still not entirely used to. Ever since he opened up his being and forged a connection with the Magic, it has been able to interact with him the same way as it does with Kurogiri: light, guiding tugs and not-breezes. Kurogiri has told him that if the Magic seems intent on guiding him somewhere, it's probably best to listen; events will line up.
It is, after all, why Kurogiri had been on that bench in the park all those years ago, the timing lining up so Izuku's and Kurogiri's paths would cross for that first time. Things had unfolded from there, and, well, now here they are, Kurogiri teaching him how to strengthen his connection to and work with the Magic, a living, powerful thing that is essentially the origin of all quirks.
The UA entrance exams are today.
And Izuku is nowhere near ready.
But Kurogiri believes in him, which is more than anyone ever has done since the diagnosis when he was four. Even his own mother had simply turned away with unshed tears glimmering in her own eyes as they had poured down the cheeks of four-year-old Izuku, asking if he could still be a hero. Asking, without saying it all aloud, if she still believed he could be a hero.
Kurogiri believes in him, enough to teach him how to connect with the Magic, something with far more potential power than any quirk in history, and still tells him that even without his or the Magic's aide, Izuku still would be undeniably great.
He doesn't want to let his mentor's faith in him die (he knows that belief is true and unwavering, deep down).
So he's going to do his best- no, go beyond his best, and prove he's worthy of the gifts that Kurogiri and the Magic have given him.