Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Inko idly pulled the All Might action figure into her hands, handing it to Izuku as she looked up at the doctor, chewing nervously on her lip. "Is something wrong? I thought it was odd that he hadn't shown any signs yet, but..." She trailed off, gently setting her hand on Izuku's shoulder.

The doctor smiled, shaking his head. "No, no, nothing like that, Mrs Midoriya. In fact, there are some signs that he's already presented his quirk! His low appetite would be cause for concern, but his weight and vitamin levels are stable, so I'm under the impression that this is a simple case of a subtle activation. A subtle activation will usually happen with a cumulative or stockpiling quirk," he explained kindly, and Inko melted with relief.

The way Izuku had been avoiding food, combined with his seeming lack of quirk had been worrying her sick; this was just the confirmation she needed to calm herself down. "Good. That's good to hear. What... well, when can we expect the quirk to be..." She trailed off, unsure of her words.

"If it is, indeed a stockpiling quirk, then there's a good chance it's already been triggered to begin storing energy. You should be expecting a more notable release of said energy in a year at the most, though on average, it should only take a couple of months." Dr Tsubasa assured. "For now, if anyone starts hounding you about quirk registration, just know that he doesn't legally need his quirk registered until he's ten years of age."

And with that, the doctor's visit was over.

The first time Izuku had used his quirk, he'd been on the playground. He'd been 'it' in tag, and he giggled as he sprinted after one of his friends, yelping as he tripped, landing hard in the woodchips. He whined as he lifted himself up, wiping the splintering wood from his face. He was distracted from the burn in his eyes when he heard a thump.

Slowly, he lifted himself to his feet, looking for the source of the sound. He stepped closer to an old, looming tree, eyes locking on a small, twitching bird. It chirped in terror as he approached, and he bit his lip as he scooped it up. He cradled the bird to his chest and turned to look for his parents, wide eyes scanning the benches.

He stumbled, but he didn't fall as he ran to his dad, lip wobbling as he held out the weak little bird. "Dad! Dad, I think it's hurt!" Izuku sobbed. Hisashi grimaced as he took in the sight of his son, holding out the still-twitching corpse of a baby bird.

"Izuku... We can't help it anymore." He said, trying to keep his voice gentle, watching from the corner of his eye as Inko dove into her bag. "We'll... we'll bury it, okay?" He assured, taking the bird out of Izuku's shaking hands. The young boy's eyes went wide, his pupils wobbling in size in a way that made Hisashi sick to his stomach.

The boy went blank in the eyes as Inko took his little hand in hers, roughly cleaning them off with wet wipes, murmuring soft reassurance to the boy. Izuku was usually just as expressive as his mother, but he looked so lifeless as Hisashi buried the chick, furrowing his eyebrows. "I... Feel weird." He murmured, looking down at his hands. His nails were strangely dark, and when Hisashi looked closer, he realized that they were growing.

Inko reread the quirk registration, sighing softly. Izuku was her baby boy, such a sweet child deserved a nice quirk, not... This morbid thing.

Name: Reap

Type: Stockpiler/Transformation

Desc: Allows user to gather the energy from a fresh cadaver— labelled as 'souls'— and store it. When released, the user takes on the attributes of the chosen soul for an indeterminate amount of time.

Side Effects: User retains a corpselike physical appearance regardless of whether quirk is in use, user gains weaknesses as well as strengths.

She finally set the paper aside, facedown on the counter. Her baby's quirk was built for a serial killer, not a hero. Inko wondered if it was too late to follow Hisashi back to America.

Heroes aren't required to be kind or encouraging. It's generally expected, but there are no rules, official or otherwise, that require kindness. Sometimes a firm hand is necessary to de-escalate a situation, and Izuku knows that. But he's still pretty sure that heroes aren't meant to vandalize people's property. His eyes glazed over as his notebook sailed out of the window, burnt and smoking.

"Why?" Izuku asks softly, but Katsuki doesn't respond, only continues his rant.

"Don't you get it, Deku? I plan to be the only student from this shithole of a school to get all the way to the top." He said firmly, setting his hand on Izuku's shoulder. One could almost mistake the gesture as friendly if it weren't for the awful-smelling smoke floating from it. "So don't get into UA. Got it?" Katsuki doesn't wait for a response before shoving Izuku back and turning to the door.

Izuku is pretty sure that heroes aren't supposed to use their quirks on civilians. He gingerly sets his hand on his crisped shoulder, frowning to himself.

"What's the look for, Deku?" One of Katsuki's friends asks, drawing the blond's attention back to Izuku. He said nothing, letting his blank gaze settle on the cleaned chalkboard.

"Do you really wanna be a hero, Deku?" Katsuki drawled, and Izuku refocused, pinning his gaze on Katsuki's piercing eyes.

"Yes," he said, his voice firm. It was all he wanted, his everything— he wanted to save people.

"Then how about this." Katsuki began, and Izuku felt his heart sink at his tone. "Jump off the school roof and hope for better luck next time." Katsuki's friends looked a little shocked, but they quickly settled down, grinning at Izuku.

The boys chuckled to each other as they walked out, passing meaningless words back and forth and leaving Izuku alone in the classroom. Slowly, he made his way back to his desk, pulling his bag off of the floor and tossing it over his shoulder.

The walk home was quiet, at first. Izuku held his soaked notebook in his hands so it might air dry a little while he wandered home, his mind racing fruitlessly. There was a reason Katsuki had said that— there had to be a reason. He wouldn't have just said something he didn't mean, right?

He took in a long breath, letting it out in a deep sigh. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could convince himself that he was fine. He let his shoe scrape the concrete, letting the sound drag him back to reality. He looked up, stepping out of the darkened tunnel, pausing as he heard a grating, scraping sound. He turned, eyes widening as he saw a manhole cover tumble down the tunnel.

Izuku stumbled back as he saw someone begin to emerge from the sewer, spinning to run. His scream was short, cut off while his airways were. His lungs burned, and he reached for his quirk—something, there had to be something!

He heard a voice, but he couldn't place any words, too focused on reaching for the wispy, weak thread that connected him to his power. He scrabbled at it, gagging as he finally caught hold of it and pulled .

Izuku could feel his mindset changing, but he couldn't tell exactly what he'd pulled from his stockpile— it didn't matter right now, he just let his instincts take over.

He kicked wildly, his bare hands flailing aimlessly until they caught on something solid. He felt his fingernails grow into claws and dig .

He came back to himself, retching onto the concrete. His eyes focused back on his hands. His hands were bloody, and covered in a reeking, oily sludge. Izuku heard movements, and a large hand settled on his shoulder he let out a growl, teeth bared as he spun to face... All Might.

The hero was smiling, but his brows were furrowed in concern. Izuku took a shaking breath, trying to force the rushing energy—which he'd identified as that of a cat—back into its box before it overflowed. "I..." He coughed roughly, shaking as the hero helped him to his feet.

"Are you injured, young man?" All Might asked, his voice reverberating off of the walls and making Izuku's head spin. He gingerly took his bag as All Might pressed it into his shaking hands, slowly shaking his head. "Good! I took the liberty of signing your notebook, I hope you don't mind— now I must be off!" The hero cheered, holding up a bottle.

Izuku felt a little ill as he realized just who was at fault for the blood mixing with the slime. "I... Hurt him." All Might paused, looking back at Izuku.

He reached to set a hand on the teen's shoulder, smile gentling. "You kept yourself alive until a professional arrived. I'm obligated to warn you against public quirk use, but... you did well." All Might said, then he was gone.

Izuku wiped his bloody hands on his dark uniform, resolving to take a nice, long nap once he got home.

Chapter Text

Izuku glared down at the barren entry on his own quirk. He was going to be a hero. And that meant training and analysis, for his body and quirk alike. He scribbled down a short list of theories, resolving to get over the fear he held-- something quiet but imposing, screaming at him that his quirk was an awful, awful thing -- and finally learn more about the power he held.

Izuku trudged through the underbrush as he searched through the forest, notebook in hand. He wasn't going to kill things to build energy, but that left him scavenging like a vulture for the remains of felled animals. He'd already found the still-wet bones of a rabbit, eaten clean-- using that soul had made him very, very quick, but more nervous than ever.

Now, still using the boost of the rabbit soul, he jumped up onto a low-hanging branch, wobbling slightly before stabilizing. He smelled blood in the air, and the rabbit urged him to run away, to hide where he wouldn't be found by whatever had spilled the blood. He ignored it, hopping down to the ground and following the scent.

The fear amped up, and he let go of his grip on the soul, his normal human senses returning to him in a rush. The smell was far fainter, but he could just pick up the metallic tang, following the scent.

He walked up on a heavily injured deer, wheezing in pain and fear as a fox circled it. The fox pounced, and after a struggle, began to eat the still-struggling animal. Izuku's face softened, and he approached, gently taking the head of the deer into his hands. The animals didn't see him as a threat-- they never did, he just looked like a corpse to them-- and let him get close.

Izuku's chest ached, but he pulled out the small blade he'd brought on this excursion, gripping the deer's head tightly so it wouldn't struggle. It was better this way, he reasoned. It was in pain, and it wasn't going to make it out of this alive anyway. Leaving it to die slowly was just cruel.

Izuku had a hard time washing away all of the blood, and he ignored the horrified look on his mother's face after laundry day. He'd done the right thing; he was sure of it. The deer nestled in his chest seemed to understand, warm with forgiveness.

Izuku was beginning to wonder why people hated exercise. After months of measurements and calculations-- so many formulae-- he'd been able to determine that his quirk could help him build muscle, which meant that he could study his quirk while also training his body.

His progress was average without his quirk, but he improved far faster if he used the power of a soul that corresponded to what he trained. With that discovery under his belt, his training flew by rapidly. He was learning faster than he ever could have hoped.

The rabbit was useful for sprinting and obviously jumping. Izuku tried not to use the cat too often, as he'd only ever found the one, but it was remarkable for climbing. Unfortunately, the pigeon wasn't as helpful for training as he'd hoped; it just gave him an iron stomach.

Of course, he had to do things besides just training. That train of thought led him to look up the details of local animal shelters. Part of him felt guilty like he was using the animals for his own gain, which he was , but... It was still a net positive. The reasoning was sound; animals that passed in shelters would pass away whether he was there to take their soul or not. It didn't stop the guilt from eating him alive.

His mother stopped leaving out dinners for him, but that wouldn't be a huge problem-- except that she'd also cut his allowance. He had been forced to pause his strength training to rework his schedule with the new meal plan. Izuku winced as he looked over the once-packed schedule that now looked barren. He thought back to the pigeon soul he'd found and decided to experiment.

Izuku made sure his mother had gone out to work before going into the kitchen, gingerly picking through the garbage, and sniffing at a tossed apple. His sense of smell with the pigeon was much stronger, and it helped him cut out bits of mould he would have otherwise missed. It was surprisingly helpful, and he resolved to use the pigeon to dumpster dive for extra calories.

Gross, but at least he could get back to his previous schedule.

With his schedule squared away, Izuku was left to use his next rest day to sign up with a nearby shelter. As he walked in, he took in the overpowering scent of nonspecific animal. He approached the desk, holding out a signed agreement from his school-- he'd pretended to consider a veterinary career, and his teacher had signed it without hesitation-- and smiling nervously.

"I'm here to volunteer?" He said, wringing his hands as the man behind the desk scanned the paper and nodded.

"Name, age, quirk, and experience with animals?" The man asked, handing back the agreement and turning to his computer.

"I'm Midoriya Izuku, I'm fifteen, my quirk is called Reap, and... I don't know very much about animals, but my quirk makes me naturally non-threatening to them." Izuku explained, scuffing his shoe on the tile.

After nothing but the quiet clicking of keys, the man smiled at Izuku. "Alright, you're all set. Just put this on," He handed Izuku a pin badge with the shelter's logo, "And head through that door there." He pointed to a staff-only door, and Izuku nodded, thanking him sheepishly on his way off.

Izuku entered a very busy area, filled with the sounds of very loud animals. He made eye contact with a frazzled woman, and she grinned widely. "Hey there, fresh meat. Brat!" She shouted, and a bored voice hummed in response.

Izuku smiled at the tired-looking boy who emerged from the break room, and the woman patted 'the brat' harshly on the back. "Show new guy the ropes, I need to take my lunch." She ordered, slinking away without another word.

Izuku blinked, bowing his head with a nervous smile. "I'm Midoriya Izuku, I, ah... I'm in your care." He managed, biting back a grimace at his own awkwardness.

"Shinsou Hitoshi." The teen said by way of greeting, rubbing the back of his neck and waving for Izuku to follow. "You're new, so you get the pleasure of helping me clean up the show room." He drawled, opening another door and kicking a doorstop into place.

Working with Shinsou was nice. Izuku got used to the prickly teen fairly quickly, and once he did, everything went smoothly, if quietly. Izuku thought he could get used to this sort of work. He fell into a comfortable routine with him and after a couple of weeks, he encountered his first death.

Shinsou had insisted on trying to bring a pair of kittens back from the brink, and the regular employees let him. Izuku did his best to help, but in the same way that animals didn't regard him with fear, they found no comfort in his touch, so he was relegated to cleanup and feeding.

Unfortunately, there was only so much a crowded shelter could do for a sick animal.

Izuku kneeled beside the kitten cage, peering between the bars at the smaller of the two. The kitten was sluggish, and Izuku had a bad feeling. "Shinsou?" He called, opening the cage and scooping out the creature, who didn't bother to protest.

"What?" Shinsou grumbled from where he was stuck on cleaning duty.

"Cassette is acting strange. I think something might be wrong." He admitted, scratching the sleepy cat under her chin, for all the good it did. The words seemed to summon the other teen, who kneeled beside Izuku.

"She just looks sleepy to me," Shinsou muttered, reaching to pet Cassette and snorting when she rumbled a weak purr. Izuku's heart sank.

"Okay, then if I..." He gently set her on her four paws and had to catch her when she tipped like a falling tree. Shinsou paled, reaching to take the kitten from Izuku's hands. He lifted her up, pressing her against his ear-- in any other situation, it would be funny, seeing the stoic teen holding a kitten to his ear like a telephone-- and cursing softly.

"Her heartbeat is really faint, I don't know if we have time to get her emergency care." He bit, expression caught between anger and melancholy as he handed the kitten back to Izuku, rushing off to get an employee.

Izuku sat with the kitten, cradling her to his chest and humming softly. It was times like this that he hated his corpselike presentation, because he wanted so badly to comfort the kitten in his hands, but he couldn't .

Izuku felt the young soul settle in his chest before Shinsou had even made it back.

Hitoshi wasn't really sure what to make of his new peer. Midoriya was unsettling, but he was earnest and pretty helpful. However, when he saw Midoriya cradling what remained of Cassette to his chest, Hitoshi thought that he looked less like a human beyond its lifespan, and more like a creature beyond life itself.

He pushed the thought away as he helped Midoriya put her to rest, but it settled in the back of his mind for a rainy day.

Chapter Text

Izuku was really starting to get the hang of his quirk. He'd finally mapped out the current limits of his quirk, which was really good to know-- he couldn't actually store too much of any one type of soul, which meant he likely had a limit on variety as well-- even if learning so much about it had made him feel a little sick.

He ignored the guilt boiling in his stomach. Instead, he tried to learn more about his... well, friend was a strong word; Shinsou was more like a coworker than anything. Regardless, Izuku found himself curious about the boy, and he'd never been able to deny his curiosity for long.

"So, are you applying for any high school nearby?" Izuku asked, clipping a leash onto one of the bigger dogs. He wasn't sure how to pinpoint the face Shinsou made at that-- somewhere between incredulity and suspicion if Izuku had to put it into words.

After a long moment, Shinsou nodded, sliding the last leash onto the dog walker. "UA. Heroics, and Gen Ed." He said flatly, he turned away, ear still tilted in Izuku's direction.

"Me, too." Izuku chirped, holding open the back door for Shinsou to lead out all four dogs. "Thinking about it, it's probably a good idea to apply for both." He mumbled. "I'll have to get on that."

Shinsou hummed, biting back a snort when the youngest of the dogs caught a mouthful of Izuku's shirt, whining. "No-- No, drop it. I'm not food." Izuku said, trying to be stern-- though he sounded more resigned.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were made of pork." Shinsou drawled, leading the way down the sidewalk as Izuku wrestled his shirt from the dog's maw. Once freed, he rushed to catch up, sighing in frustration.

Izuku nodded, quiet for a moment. "It's part of my quirk." He began, his voice low. Shinsou hummed noncommittally, pausing in his stride as one dog got distracted sniffing the grass.

"To be brief, I gain power from dead things," Izuku murmured, patting the head of the youngest dog, and yanking his hand out of the way before his jaws could snap around it. "And animals mistake me for something that's already dead, and try to eat me." His snark was directed at the excited dog, who whined, wiggling in place.

Shinsou snorted softly, silently offering Izuku his leash clip. Izuku gratefully traded off the hungry puppy, instead walking the older dogs.

"Does that have anything to do with Mr Amano giving you dirty looks every time an animal dies?" Izuku wheezed softly at the question, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I don't know. Probably. Honestly, there are a lot of reasons people glare at me; this may surprise you, but most people think I'm kind of weird." Izuku drawled, feeling a prickle of pride swell in his chest when Shinsou laughed bitterly.

Izuku groaned as he hefted up a bag of dog food, wincing-- he'd done strength training yesterday, and it was some rotten luck that all of the deliveries came in right after he'd overworked himself.

Shinsou didn't bother heaving the bag over his shoulder, instead sliding it onto the sidewalk and kicking it along in a floppy roll. "You good?" He asked, sounding uninterested.

"Fine. Sore. Been working out." He gritted, kicking open the back door of the shelter and holding it with his foot so that Shinsou could roll in the cat food.

"Yeah, I uh... I can kind of tell." Shinsou admitted. "You've like... doubled in size since I met you, you know that?" Izuku snorted, dropping the bag onto the floor with a sigh.

"I didn't think you paid that much attention to me," Izuku remarked, leaning against the wall and pausing to breathe.

"Hard not to notice when the first time you walked the dogs they dragged you down the block." Shinsou grinned, and Izuku groaned, burying his face in his palm. "But hey, now you're like a brick wall when you hold the leashes. That's cool."

Izuku gently shoved Shinsou's shoulder as he straightened up, heading back out to the curb. "What about you? What kind of training have you been doing?" Izuku asked, helping Shinsou carry in the giant box of cat litter.

"Hm? Oh shit--" Shinsou cut himself off as he stumbled on the step up-- his eyes went wide, and Izuku squatted to push the box up before Shinsou broke his foot-- all while holding back laughter.

Shinsou grumbled as he dropped the box on the tile, kicking it over to the storage closet. "Yeah, laugh it up. Not like I almost just died." He drawled, and Izuku snorted.

Izuku winced as he rubbed his arm, trying to massage out the ache. Shinsou closed the closet door with a sigh, leaning back against it. "That sucked." He decided, and Izuku hummed in agreement, very ready to go home and eat something.

Shinsou handed Izuku his bag as he grabbed up his own, checking his phone and sighing. "Fuck." He muttered, tossing his bag over his shoulder. Izuku hummed in question as he tried in vain to fix his hair.

"Uhh... I don't suppose you're any good at English? My teacher just sent out a notification for a test tomorrow." Shinsou asked, shoving his phone into his hoodie pocket.

"Oh, uh... I'm not like, fluent, but I can probably help you study?" Izuku offered, and Shinsou seemed a little surprised at that.

"Why is that a rule? That's not a rule anybody follows, why is it a rule?" Shinsou grumbled, scrubbing at his face. Izuku sipped his tea to choke down a laugh.

"Think we should stop for now?" Izuku offered, snorting when Shinsou flopped to lay on his arms with a groan and Izuku let Shinsou enjoy a few moments of blissful thoughtlessness. Shinsou sat up, starting to pack away his notes.

"Earlier, you asked me something." Shinsou began, closing up his bag, uncaring for the papers he crumpled between the zippers. "And I wanted to know what you meant by it." Izuku paled, rewinding the day and mentally sifting through every word he'd said.

"You asked what kind of training I'd been doing." Izuku blinked, running through all the different ways someone could possibly be offended by that question.

"Uh... I wanted to know what skills you want to use, like during the entrance exams, but also for heroics in general." Izuku said, but it sounded more like a question. "Like... For me, agility is my biggest strength, since I'm pretty small."

Shinsou paused, looking down at the table between them. "I... hadn't really thought too hard on it. I hope to become an underground hero, but that's really all I've considered..." Shinsou's face twisted with focus as he seemed to take stock of himself.

They both went quiet for a few minutes and just as Izuku began to wonder if he'd accidentally broken Shinsou, the boy spoke up. "People probably think your quirk is creepy," Shinsou said suddenly, and Izuku hesitantly nodded, nudging his bag out from beneath the table so it would be easier to grab if he had to run.

"A lot of people think mine is creepy, too," Shinsou admitted, and Izuku let his shoulders slump. Shinsou seemed to study Izuku for a moment before taking a breath. "It's called brainwashing." Shinsou said softly.

Izuku relaxed, leaning back in his seat and nodding. "Well... I think that's pretty cool. You'll be a good hero." Izuku said softly, smiling when Shinsou finally looked up at him.

"Thanks." Shinsou muttered, smirking. "You, too."

Chapter Text

Hitoshi groaned lowly, landing heavily on the park bench. "I take it back. You're the most cunning villain I've ever met." He wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

"It's just a run; I do these almost every day." Midoriya countered once he came back up for air. If Hitoshi didn't know better, he'd think Midoriya was bragging. "Want to do some quirk practice once we get back?" He offered, and Hitoshi took in a deep breath before nodding.

"You're nuts." Hitoshi decided, but he was happy.

"You're sure you want to help me train my quirk?" Hitoshi fiddled with the stopwatch as he confirmed, hooking Midoriya when he hummed in agreement. They'd agreed that they should get a few base numbers before doing any substantial training, so Midoriya was left to stare blankly at the wall until Hitoshi's hold gave out on its own.

Midoriya shook himself, shuddering. "I feel like I just stepped out of a pool." He murmured, scrambling to grab his notebook and scribble down the times. "Hm. Now I have to wonder if the time would be lower if we did the same exact test-- if not, then it's probably a hard limit, which could get annoying to work around," Izuku devolved into mumbling as he scribbled down barely legible notes.

Hitoshi leaned over Midoriya's shoulder, trying to make sense of the chicken scratch. Midoriya didn't seem to notice, just muttering along. His gaze caught on a particular theory, and he tapped it as he spoke.

"Let's try this one out." Midoriya looked up at Hitoshi, eyes wide with something like wonder, and Hitoshi wavered. It always felt like Midoriya was looking at something just beyond Hitoshi-- his eyes glazed over with an uncanny haze that Hitoshi knew was just a quirk effect.

When Midoriya turned away, it was like a weight was lifted, and part of him wondered if the way he felt when Midoriya looked into his eyes was the way people felt while under his quirk.

Midoriya was hesitant, wringing his hands as he rambled. "You don't have to watch-- I promise, I won't be mad if you look away, I'm sure it's super creepy--"

"Just do it." Hitoshi urged, leaning back as Midoriya began to bounce on his toes, shaking himself before closing his eyes. Hitoshi was prepared to look for subtle changes as Midoriya focused his power, so he was startled when the air around him seemed to swirl , making Midoriya look less like a half-dead teenager and more like a force of nature given human form.

Hitoshi was pretty sure he'd stopped breathing, but he was too busy watching to care.

Midoriya's fingers curled, his nails growing and sharpening into claws. He leaned forward to stand on the balls of his feet, shaking out his hands with a huff. He tilted his head down, his face twitching occasionally as he settled into the changes.

Hitoshi felt his lungs start back up once Midoriya opened his eyes, slit pupils narrowing on Hitoshi, zeroing in on his every movement. Midoriya blinked rapidly, reaching up to rub his eyes with a huff. "You're blue now." He murmured, which snapped Hitoshi out of his reverie.

" What? " He wheezed, hesitantly reaching out for Midoriya.

"You know. Cat vision. Colourblind. So you're blue, now." Midoriya explained succinctly, looking back at Hitoshi. "And kind of blurry up close."

Hitoshi relaxed, laughing softly as he leaned back a bit. "Better?" Midoriya nodded. "So... What can you do, now? I know you're in 'cat mode' or whatever, but what does that do ?"

Instead of answering, Midoriya bent into a coil that made Hitoshi wince. "Flexibility at the cost of strength, kinetic and night vision, at the cost of nearsighted and colour vision," He unfurled, stretching his wrists idly. "Speed and agility at the cost of my stamina. With my quirk, it's all give and take."

Hitoshi nodded, blinking when Midoriya did a handstand, rolling backwards into an 'O' like a contortionist. He wheezed softly as Midoriya relaxed further into the stretch without so much as a wince.

"You look like a pretzel." Hitoshi murmured, shaking himself out of it and beginning to join Midoriya in stretching.

Hitoshi glanced around the living room of Midoriya's apartment, taking in the thin layer of dust on the entire room. He didn't comment on it as Midoriya led him into his room, glancing at the All Might nameplate with a snort.

'Ah, the feeling of being watched,' Hitoshi thought, looking over the shelves of taxidermied animals broken up by hero posters. 'It's been a while.'

He tore his gaze away from the long-dead crow that seemed to be glaring him down, instead watching Midoriya toss pillows onto the hardwood and flop down, opening his bag. "So, what was it you wanted to study for?"

Hitoshi set his bag down, rifling through the mess of loose paper and supplies inside to pull out a workbook he'd smuggled out. "Math, mostly. At least for now." He decided, leaning back against Midoriya's mattress as he flicked through the pages. "You?"

Midoriya hummed, grabbing a folder and pulling out what looked like a rubric. "History essay." He mumbled, leaning against Hitoshi as he skimmed the page.

The night before the entrance exam, Hitoshi begged Mr Koketsu for permission to crash on Izuku's couch-- he lived closer to UA, and Hitoshi couldn't pass up the opportunity for a little extra shut-eye. He must have looked pretty pathetic for his hard-ass foster dad to let him-- he wasn't unfair, but he was too strict to let him stay with someone unless he had their full name, address, and phone number, and they'd passed a vague 'security check'. At least he was allowed to stay over.

Hitoshi was pleasantly surprised when he woke up only kind of exhausted. Even better, Izuku had made him some coffee, like a goddamn saint.

All in all, it wasn't until he was fully dressed and ready that the panic began to set in-- he was not ready for UA's entrance exam; was he insane? Izuku wasn't faring much better, having gone through half a box of tissues for his panicked tears, so at least Hitoshi wasn't alone in his fear.

Ultimately, it took them half an hour to pull their shit together and get going, which was faster than expected when they were one startle away from a feedback loop of nerves.

By the time they'd filed onto the train, they'd both mostly calmed the hell down but Hitoshi didn't say anything when Izuku had taken his hand and gripped it like a lifeline, instead opting to mentally run over the formulae he always forgot at the last second.

Izuku squeezed Hitoshi's hand to ground himself as they walked into the school hand in hand-- Izuku was so focused on looking out for Katsuki that he didn't realize he'd stumbled until he was already falling.

Hitoshi hauled him back with a nervous but genuine laugh. "Aren't cats supposed to land on their feet?" He teased, and Izuku pulled his hand away to gently smack Hitoshi on the arm.

"I'm not a cat," Izuku grumbled, but the tightness in his chest eased. They could do this. If even one passed the practical, they'd team up at the Sports Festival and destroy the competition. Easier said than done, but at least it left some room for error.

He wouldn't fail if he made a mistake-- but he would fail if he gave up after one slip-up. He tried to keep the thought in mind as he walked into the testing hall for the written exam. He waved halfheartedly at Hitoshi as he slunk to sit in his assigned spot, right next to Katsuki.

Izuku kept his eyes locked on the stage, firmly ignoring the blond's death glare as he ran through the facts he'd drilled just before he'd gone to bed, muttering to himself as he gathered his thoughts.

Izuku could do this. He just had to bring his A-game.

Izuku felt like he was falling for a trick, somehow. Most of these questions were fairly simple-- yes, writing out the short answers ate up a little time, but Izuku was well practiced in toeing the line between fast and illegible. The only real issue was that he had to keep biting his tongue not to mutter and get disqualified.

He didn't let the lingering unease slow him down. Instead, he moved on to the math packet and did a first pass, just writing down what he needed to do before returning to the top and skimming it again. He chewed his lip to keep quiet as he scribbled, quietly bouncing his leg under the table.

Once he finished, he switched to the last packet, and his jaw dropped when he saw a single sentence followed by a blank page. An essay. Izuku bit back a grin as he read the prompt.

Propose a plan to capture the hypothetical villain detailed on the last page.

Izuku was going to crush this exam.

Izuku was going to be crushed by secondhand embarrassment. The dark-haired boy in the spotlight was making him shrink in his seat just from the way he spoke-- did he have any self-awareness at all?

He tore his attention away from the trainwreck and focused on Present Mic's explanation of the 0P robots, nodding to himself.

"And you, with the unkempt hair!" The boy pointed to Izuku, and then there was a spotlight on him and suddenly the embarrassment wasn't so secondhand anymore. "Please cease your incessant mumbling; you're a complete distraction!" Izuku nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as his face burned.

Izuku hung back as the rest of the students filed out, only moving along once Hitoshi caught up. He took a deep breath, fumbling to grab his friend's hand and squeeze it, smiling nervously.

Hitoshi squeezed back, and they followed the signs to the locker rooms. Most students would wait until the end of the break to change, and Izuku wanted to beat the rush.

"The break is only for 30 minutes, right?" Hitoshi murmured, splitting off from Izuku to jam his bag into a locker and retrieve his workout clothes. Izuku nodded silently, changing as quickly as he could.

"Yeah. I'm gonna stretch a bit before I head to the waiting area. I'm in Test Centre B." Izuku said, taking a deep breath. Hitoshi joined Izuku, even as he fumbled for his ticket. Hitoshi gave a Cheshire grin, and Izuku knew what centre he was in before he even opened his mouth.

"B," Hitoshi said, something smug in his tone. Izuku chuckled softly, pulling his leg forward and hugging his calf to his face for a moment.

"So, we're working together?" Izuku asked and snorted at the almost offended scoff Hitoshi let out.

"Duh. We're gonna crush this." Hitoshi decided, popping his neck and making Izuku grimace. "Oh yeah, was it you that the stuck-up guy was talking to? I was too far to really tell." Hitoshi asked, eyes wide with faux innocence that crumpled into glee as Izuku groaned.

"Stop, you're going to make me combust," Izuku complained, heading to the sinks and running a faucet to cool off his burning cheeks. Once he felt marginally less tomato-esque, he walked with Hitoshi to the waiting areas, fiddling with his ticket.

"Yeah, yeah," Hitoshi waved off, but he squeezed Izuku's hand in apology anyway.

The bus ride to the testing centre was tense and silent , and Izuku gripped Hitoshi's hand like a lifeline yet again as they bumped along the road, finally rolling to a stop.

Everybody began to head to the gates, but Izuku stayed by the bus, focusing on the lazily swirling life in his chest. He let go of Hitoshi's hand as he focused on pulling the energy out of its dormant dance and into his fingertips. His hearing sharpened, and the acrid scent of anxiety assaulted his nose.

He fumbled to grab Hitoshi's hand as he blinked away the dizziness that came with the rapid sensory input, and let himself be tugged along to the rest of their group. Izuku bit his lip nervously, careful not to dig his claws into Hitoshi's skin as he tapped along his shaking hand.

"Want to see something I can do with my quirk?" Izuku whispered, snorting at the bewildered look on Hitoshi's face. Once the boy nodded, Izuku lifted Hitoshi's hand to press it against his sternum. It was stuttered to start, but the sound was unmistakable.

"Since when could you purr ?" Hitoshi hissed, but his hands weren't shaking anymore, so Izuku counted it as a win.

"I figured it out a while ago, but it never really came up. I can howl with the dog, too. It's really loud." Izuku admitted, taking a breath and bouncing on his toes for a few seconds, carefully untangling his fingers from Hitoshi's as Present Mic's voice rang clear over the speakers.

Izuku tuned out the recap of the point system, focusing on the gates. The world brightened around him, every movement like a beacon to his eyes, and-- "Begin!"

He grabbed Hitoshi's arm and ran .

Chapter Text

Shouta narrowed his gaze on the pair of students that ran hand in hand; there was no hesitation in the shorter one's movements. The taller one stumbled at first, but his longer legs helped him catch up without losing his grip on the other boy.

"I wonder how long their headstart will last. And their alliance, for that matter; they must have only met today." Vlad mused, leaning back in his seat. Shouta nodded silently, switching cameras to follow the pair.

The green-haired one was a terror, bringing up the audio released an uncanny recreation of a cat's war cry-- a spine-chilling yowl, topped off with a snarl as the boy ran circles around a 1P, diving for its control panel.

His purple-haired ally followed close behind, tugging a loose sheet of metal off a felled bot and using it to bitch slap a 2P that had taken aim at the other boy.

Midnight snorted, and Shouta pointedly turned his attention to another screen-- those two would be fine for a while.

Hitoshi had kind of underestimated Izuku; he'd known Izuku was tough, but right then, he was downright feral. It was impressive, if he were honest, and Hitoshi was content to watch his back while he worked, taking the attention off of Izuku or tag teaming a 3P, whenever they came across one. He didn't have to pass-- he would do his very best, but only one of them needed to get into the hero course, and Izuku's quirk was far better against robots than Hitoshi's.

So, he poured most of his effort into boosting his partners' scores and occasionally dragging other students out of the way of Izuku's zig-zagging warpath through the testing centre.

They were near the main road when the testing centre trembled . Hitoshi barely noticed Izuku's panicked hiss as he saw camo green rising over the skyline, with 0P painted on the metal. "What the fuck ." He breathes.

Then Izuku perked up and booked it for the danger zone, and Hitoshi could do nothing but follow.

Ochako let out a panicked wheeze as a hunk of rubble knocked the wind from her, pinning her flat against the asphalt, right in the way of the murder bot!

She watched, wide-eyed. The other students ran from the robot, leaving her in the dust. "Help!" She squeaked out, but it wasn't as loud as it would've been if her chest weren't being crushed .

Ochako tried to wiggle her arm under the rubble to touch it, but a wave of nausea made her go carefully still, tensing every muscle in her body to force down the bile that threatened to crawl up her throat. She looked up at the sound of footsteps-- two boys were beelining to her, and she heaved a sigh of relief-- and then just heaved .

She was too focused on not puking to pay any mind to the conversation, but she did notice when the green-haired boy began to wiggle under the rubble with her, slipping under the concrete and getting his feet under him, lifting it with a pained wheeze.

The purple boy yanked her out, and she twisted to slap her hand onto the rubble. She vaguely registered two sets of arms hauling her up and carrying her off, but between her quirk and the bobbing, her lunch was a lost cause.

At least she wasn't dead!

Ochako returned to herself after a few minutes of misery and lifted herself up to see her saviours. The taller boy looked exhausted and stern, and Ochako smiled nervously when he made eye contact with her. "You good?" He asked, sounding almost bored.

"I'm... okay. Quirk exhaustion." She shifted to lean back against the brick, looking around for the other boy. Ochako suddenly realized she'd been carried pretty far; the other boy was standing at the mouth of an alleyway they must have dragged her into. "I'm Uraraka Ochako." She introduced, looking back up at the tired boy.

She kind of regretted it; he looked annoyed. "Shinsou Hitoshi." He drawled, turning to call out for the other boy. "She's up!" He shouted, wandering to stand by the entrance as the curly-haired boy darted closer, crouching on the concrete beside her.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked, and Ochako noticed that his wide green eyes had slitted pupils that made her feel a little like a bug under a microscope.

"I'm okay, I think. My ankle kind of hurts, but it's not too bad." She admitted, watching the other boy wave someone over and return to them.

"Nurse incoming, want to help her out onto the street?" Shinsou asked the green boy, motioning in her direction. Ochako was a little unsteady when the shorter boy helped her up, but Shinsou silently supported her with a hand on her arm, and they guided her out to the main road, where a little old lady darted to them at a surprising speed.

"Now, what happened here, dearie?" She asked kindly, giving them all a once-over with keen, narrowed eyes.

"Quirk exhaustion," Shinsou said first, and the other boy followed it up with, "and maybe a sprained ankle," to which the kindly looking woman hushed them both, looking at Ochako.

Ochako giggled. "They're right," She said, and she was sent off with a handful of gummies after a kiss on the cheek that made her unbearably sleepy. The boys both waved off the woman's concern, and Ochako yawned, shuffling toward the main gate.

She was too tired to think of much else than finding somewhere to nap . She'd think later.

When Ochako woke up, she was on a cot that was set up in the cafeteria with what looked like every other student who had been healed. She hummed tiredly, sitting up and looking around. Her bag had been set under the cot she lay on, which was nice, and she grabbed it up , following the signs back to the locker rooms, she had a quick rinse and changed back into her school uniform, banishing her dusty gym clothes to a secondary pocket in her bag.

With that taken care of, she finally let herself think. Two boys had gotten her out of the rubble-- thinking back, she probably wasn't in actual danger, but they'd saved her anyway. Shinsou, and... she couldn't remember the green-haired boy's name for the life of her, and she began to wonder if he'd even offered it.

Ochako frowned to herself, replaying the last minutes of the exam in her mind. If she weren't truly at risk, those boys must have wasted time getting her out when they could have been getting more points. She thought back on her 28 points and made up her mind.

She was grateful, and what could she do with that but try and repay them?

Chapter Text

Hitoshi was a mess. He'd asked permission to open his letter with Izuku, but his foster father had only responded with a shake of his head and a pat on the back, so he was left to sit on his bed, bouncing his leg nervously. He scrolled mindlessly on his phone and jumped when it rang, Izuku's contact information taking over the screen.

He nearly dropped the damned thing in his haste to answer. "Hello?" Hitoshi grimaced at his voice crack once he spoke, but Izuku didn't mention it.

"I got my letter. Is yours in yet?" Izuku asked. His voice sounded soft, almost faint. Hitoshi nodded, then remembered that Izuku couldn't see him and hummed a confirmation, bouncing his leg restlessly.

Hitoshi ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a whistly sigh. "Okay. I... I should go first, then. I'm more likely to have failed anyway." Hitoshi decided, setting his phone to speaker and dropping it onto his mattress, shakily picking up the envelope.

"Don't say that-- I'm sure you did great, Hitoshi!" Izuku assured, and Hitoshi chuckled a little. He wasn't surprised by the praise anymore, but it still made a warm feeling curl in his chest; he likened it to a sleepy kitten getting ready for a nap, soft and gentle, but lethargic.

"The plan was for me to get less points, Izuku," Hitoshi grumbled, but a smile tugged at his lips, and his hands were a little steadier as he tore off the seal. There was what looked like a hockey puck inside, with the expected packet.

"Press button to recieve your scores," He read off the strange disk, pressing the little button in the middle. It lit up and brought up a sort of holo-screen-- it was pretty big, so he set it on the floor, picking up his phone as what looked like a video loaded.

"It's a video. I'll put you by the speaker so you can hear, too." Hitoshi said, setting the phone down just as the video began.

"I am here!" Boomed out from the speaker, and Hitoshi sputtered in deep confusion as Izuku took in a staticky gasp. "To reveal your scores! You, young Shinsou, received an average passing grade on the written exam. On the physical, you scored 4 Villain Points. Of course, that alone is not enough to pass the practical exam." Hitoshi sighed softly, but he wasn't too surprised.

" However , UA could never deny a student with so much potential for saving people! After all, isn't saving people the whole point of being a hero? For that reason, the test included a hidden system; Rescue Points!"

Hitoshi stared blankly at the holo-screen, barely registering the squeal from his phone's speaker.

"Not only did you pass the exam, young Shinsou, but you scored a formidable total of 54 points! That puts you in 11th place on the scoreboard, an incredible achievement!"

Hitoshi leaned back, idly letting the video play out the welcome to the school, his mind racing. After a moment, the screen turned off, and he picked up his phone, turning off the speaker and holding it to his ear.

"You passed! You passed and you got 11th place-- that's so good! I'm so happy for you, Hitoshi!" Izuku continued to ramble on about it, and Hitoshi felt his cheeks prickle at the praise.

"Izuku." Hitoshi cut off his friend, chuckling highly. "That means you passed too, you know that, right?" He managed, his voice clipped as he unfolded the papers in the envelope-- just a packet of forms and information, nothing he needed to look into immediately.

"I-- well, we don't know that for sure," Izuku argued, but the sound of him tearing the seal came through the speaker anyway. "Okay, it's loading," Izuku murmured, and the same booming voice spoke up, layered over multiple microphones.

"I am here!" Hitoshi leaned forward as if it would help him hear better over the phone. "To reveal your scores! You, young Midoriya, received a high passing grade on the written exam. On the physical, you scored 31 Villain Points!" That was more than Hitoshi had expected, but he had been more focused on watching out for Izuku than just watching him.

" However , that's not the end of it! After all, isn't saving people the whole point of being a hero? For that reason, the test included a hidden system; Rescue Points!" Hitoshi grinned, tapping his fingers on his lap with anticipation.

"Not only did you pass the exam, young Midoriya, but you scored a formidable total of 71 points! That puts you in 3rd place on the scoreboard, my sincerest congratulations!" Hitoshi choked on his spit, and he was pretty sure Izuku had already burst into tears.

"Holy shit--" Hitoshi wheezed, coughing roughly. He cleared his throat and pulled the phone away from his ear as Izuku began to sob. He lowered the phone to his lap as Izuku pulled himself together, laughing softly. "We did it."

Hitoshi silently set the packet on the dining table, sliding it to his foster father. The man silently took the papers, skimming them first, then humming softly and rereading them. He nodded slowly, flipping to the next page.

The silent reading continued, and Hitoshi felt his palms begin to sweat. He subtly wiped them on his sleep pants, jaw clenching with nerves. Finally, he stood up. "This is... UA. This is incredible," Mr Koketsu rasped as he approached Hitoshi, though his face remained blank.

"You passed for Gen Ed and Heroics." He nodded firmly, reaching to clap a scarred hand on Hitoshi's shoulder, squeezing gently. Mr Koketsu's lips curled into an awkward smile, the muscles stiff from disuse. The expression didn't last, and after a beat, he began to look around.

"I need a pen..." Mr Koketsu breathed, disappearing into his office with the packet. Hitoshi let out the breath he'd been holding, unable to bite back the wild grin that split his face.

Izuku left the pamphlet on the kitchen table, and it was signed the next day. The fridge was also filled, and the pantry stocked, but the dust remained unstirred, enough that he wondered if he'd somehow done it himself and just forgotten.

It didn't hurt; Izuku was hardly more than a corpse. Nothing could hurt him. Not the acidic tears that burned a sizzling trail down his cheeks nor the hot needles poking out of his heart and digging into his bone marrow. Nobody could hurt the dead.

"Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki, to the principal's office." Izuku knew he was marked for doom the moment he walked onto campus, but he hoped to at least make it through the first period before facing his fate. Unfortunately, Lady Luck found him undeserving of her mercy, so Izuku trudged to the main office, keeping pace a few steps behind Katsuki.

The prodigy was practically steaming-- and literally sparking-- with rage, but he kept it caged in his throat for the time being, only slamming the door to the office in Izuku's face. He carefully reopened the door, taking care not to damage the soot-covered handle as he stepped into the office, shoulders hunched.

"Bakugou! I must say I was delighted to receive the news this morning; I'm not surprised you made it into UA's Hero Course, and I'm sure you'll do our school proud." The principal crowed, then turned to Izuku. His smile dimmed, but most wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, Izuku was observant.

"Midoriya, you also passed UA's entrance exam! Congratulations, I hope you do well in your course." He said, with less exuberance in his voice. It was kinder than Izuku had anticipated, but the principal had generally been cordial with him if Izuku ignored how he set his jaw in irritation.

Izuku had spent the last ten months preparing for UA, and it hadn't gone to waste. Unfortunately, Katsuki was well-practiced in spotting the resident corpse, so Izuku found himself cornered behind the building. Katsuki grabbed a handful of Izuku's shirt, using the grip to shake him a little.

"What did I say, Deku? What did I say when we were choosing schools, what did I fucking tell you?" Katsuki shouted, the fabric in his hand smoking.

"You told me to jump off the roof," Izuku murmured-- and really, that was the only thing he remembered about their conversation; he'd gotten distracted when he was nearly drowned by a villain. Katsuki paused, seemingly surprised at the reminder of his own words.

His expression quickly twisted back into rage. "Wrong answer, Deku. I told you not to get into UA. Where do you get off, taunting me like this, you smug bastard?" Katsuki gritted, and Izuku wondered what he'd done in a past life to deserve so many awful misunderstandings.

"Kacchan..." Izuku murmured, exhaustion weighing down his voice. " Katsuki , please listen to me. I chose UA because I want to be a hero. It didn't have anything to do with you." Izuku flinched when Katsuki's palm popped around his uniform, undoubtedly leaving burn holes in the fabric.

Katsuki was completely silent, his expression carefully blank as he glared Izuku down. "Wanna try that again, nerd?" He whispered, and Izuku realized that he was actually in danger. Izuku could feel nitroglycerin build up in the fabric of his shirt, dripping onto his collarbone.

Izuku said nothing, trying to gather his thoughts, to figure out how to get out of this. Katsuki pulled Izuku forward just to slam him back into the brick. "Say something, goddamn it!" He shouted.

"Katsuki, please just let me go." Izuku whispered, and Katsuki's hand twitched, sparking.

The fluid on his skin ignited, and Izuku let out a shout at the burn. He broke Katsuki's grip with both hands, hastily patting out the fire on his uniform. Katsuki glowered, but he didn't attack, just scoffed and stalked off.

Chapter Text

Izuku avoided his gaze in the mirror, carefully cleaning the burns on his skin. They weren't too bad. Only second-degree with the blisters intact. He thoroughly wiped the area around them and more gently wiped the blisters, taking care not to pop any. He'd burned himself worse on the stove, but for some reason, these hurt so, so much more.

"It's okay." He mumbled aloud, tugging gently on his quirk. He could feel the souls begin to stir, coursing through his chest like a frozen river. He poured liquid bandage onto the wound, wincing at the sting.

Izuku rubbed it in, sniffling. His eye trailed over his reflection, and he frowned. He probably needed to stop doing this. Still, he stepped up to the counter, then leaned on his palms, close enough for his breath to make the glass fog.

Izuku tilted his head as he looked into his own eyes, gaze tracing his offset pupils, looping to drag over his dark, dark circles and heavy eyes. Izuku leaned back a bit, looking over his ashen skin and bloodless cheeks, down to his blue lips.

He took a deep breath, focusing on how his ribs expanded and how his muscles slid under his skin.

The burns didn't look like they would ever heal, the skin around them dull as ever. There was no blood rushing to the scene of the crime and pinkening the surrounding flesh, just a burst of red directly under the wound.

He looked down upon his hands, gaze dragging along his veins as they showed through, a far darker blue than most. He worked his jaw, letting it fall completely slack. He looked back up at his face. With his slack jaw and rolled eyes, he looked like a walking cadaver.

Izuku stared at himself in the mirror, holding his breath for a long time. If he stared long enough, it almost felt like his heart wasn't beating at all. Nothing could hurt Izuku if he was already dead.

Izuku was quick to find Hitoshi, leaning against the inside of UA's fence, and he hurried to meet up with him. "Hey, glad you got here okay." Izuku murmured as he grabbed Hitoshi's hand. "Please tell me I'm not the only one panicking?"

Hitoshi snorted, gently tugging Izuku along to the doors. "You're not, I promise." His grip tightened on Izuku's hand. "I think all of the first years are probably panicking, but what do I know?" He grumbled, elbowing through the sea of students.

Izuku stumbled after him, sighing in relief as they broke through the congestion and into the sparse stairway. "I don't really get why the courses are broken up this way." He mumbled.

"It would make more sense to split the stories by year number so that separate courses can mingle with others their age and make connections earlier in..." Izuku trailed off as they approached the classroom door.

Hitoshi's hand shook in Izuku's grip, but it didn't show on his face. "Keep muttering." He urged, pushing open the door and slinking into the classroom. "It's interesting." Izuku nodded, about to keep talking when someone spoke up.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Smug prick." Katsuki snarled, and Izuku winced in sympathy for the dark-haired boy, who immediately shot back with an exclamation about respect-- Izuku's attention was drawn away by the call of Hitoshi's name.

"Shinsou, and freckled boy! You're both in 1A, too?" A girl jogged into the room, bouncing up to them. "I'm Uraraka Ochako-- You guys were super cool in the exam." She introduced, bouncing on her toes. "Thanks for saving me. I know it was just a test, but still!"

Izuku bowed quickly, leaning back against Hitoshi. "I'm glad you're okay, uhm-- I'm Midoriya Izuku, and, ah... I guess you know Hitoshi already." Izuku stuttered, his shoulders crawling up to meet his ears.

He registered that the boys near the front had stopped arguing and winced when one of them split off, heading right for Izuku. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hitoshi cut him off with a flat, "Aren't you the guy who scolded Present Mic?"

Uraraka choked, covering her mouth with wide eyes as the dark-haired boy winced, face going red. "I-- Yes, I... I did do that." He muttered, turning to Izuku, paling. "You... I was very rude to you, I apologize." He bowed.

"I am Iida Tenya, from Somei Academy." He straightened up, adjusting his glasses. "I look forward to learning with you." He declared, and Izuku gave a wobbly smile.

"I'm Midoriya, and--" Izuku was cut off by the warning bell, which made him jump. "We should probably go sit down." He finished, forgetting his original thought as students flooded through the doors.

Izuku wouldn't have seen him if he weren't so wound up. As it was, he caught movement in his periphery and turned to look, meeting eyes with a stern-looking man who stepped to the podium. His glare dragged over the room, unimpressed.

The man lifted his hand, and Izuku covered his ears before he brought it down on the wood with a bang . The chatter went silent, and all eyes were on the front. The bell rang.

"Ten seconds." He spoke, his voice subdued but imposing , seizing everyone's attention with its casual intensity. "That's too long; if it continues to take you that long to notice a change, we'll be having issues." He frowned.

"Further, if you're just here to chat , you'll want to pack your things and walk out right now." He said firmly, gaze raking across the silent room. When nobody moved, he nodded.

"I'm Aizawa Shouta. Your homeroom teacher. Now, go put on your gym clothes and meet me in the field." Mr. Aizawa ordered, lifting a thermos to his lips as he turned to leave.

"But, sir! What about orientation?" Uraraka piped up-- and Izuku had seriously underestimated her bravery; she didn't even flinch when Mr. Aizawa scowled in her direction.

"We don't have the time for frivolity. I only have three years to make you into heroes; I'm not wasting any of that time on a pointless assembly." Mr. Aizawa, having said his piece, left the classroom.

Shouta had known that a new student of his had a possibly triggering quirk. Nedzu was the one who'd cornered him before the first day and told him outright. Shouta appreciated the warning; he would have missed it otherwise.

Admittedly, he didn't expect to recognize the student as one-half of the feral tag team in the exam. The video feed couldn't have done the boy justice when the kid was a blur for the entire test.

If he hadn't been warned, Shouta would probably have been sick when the boy turned to face him, eyes rolled back in his head. He stared at the ceiling above Shouta for a long time, only turning away once Shouta had.

He knew it was just a quirk effect, but that didn't make the kid less uncanny when he was the perfect picture of a cadaver.

He'd been forced to choke down every instinct to rush the kid and check for a pulse. The blue lips sent his mental alarms haywire. 'He's almost out of oxygen,' his mind hissed, 'He's going to die. He's going to suffocate. '

Shouta stood in the field, counting the things he could see, hear, feel... Nobody was in danger; it was just a side effect of his quirk. Nobody was going to suffocate; the boy could breathe just fine. He wasn't dead or dying; it was an illusion.

Shouta groaned softly, feeling his shoulders slump. This was going to be a long three years.

Tenya felt... conflicted. On one hand, if Midoriya was truly unwell, he should express his concern-- on the other, if it was simply a mutation, that would come across as very rude.

As Tenya walked out to the field, he decided that he would defer to those who knew Midoriya before and perhaps bring his concern to their teacher if it was still bothering him. With that in mind, he nodded politely to Midoriya as he passed to join the line.

Hitoshi bit his lip as Mr. Aizawa explained the challenge, immediately taking Hitoshi out of the running. His quirk wasn't physical at all-- it was the whole reason he trained with Izuku for months-- and he wasn't as fit as he probably could be, yet.

He gritted his teeth, fumbling to take Izuku's hand and squeeze. Izuku squeezed back, and they both stayed silent as Mr. Aizawa set up the stakes.

"Whoever comes in last place overall will be expelled." He drawled, and Hitoshi let out a whimper that was drowned out by the shouting of their classmates. Hitoshi was crushing Izuku's hand, but Izuku was gripping onto Hitoshi's hand with equal tension, so he didn't feel bad.

"It's okay." Izuku bit. "I know you, and I know your quirk-- you can use me and my quirk, okay?" He whispered, and Hitoshi frowned.

"Then you'll be tired." Hitoshi murmured, and Izuku shook his head firmly.

"I'm not letting you get expelled on day one." He insisted, then stepped away to activate his quirk, not giving Hitoshi a chance to argue. "Fine." He murmured, even though Izuku wouldn't hear it.

Hitoshi watched silently, the transformation just as captivating as the first time he'd seen it. By the way that he shifted his weight, Hitoshi could tell that he'd chosen the dog for the tests.

He'd mentioned before that the cat was skewed to agility, but it was still his usual choice-- it would be interesting to see him use it for something like this. Izuku grimaced, covering his nose with his hand.

"Oh god, I can smell so much sweat ," Izuku muttered, and Hitoshi bit back a snort. "Don't laugh at me-- this is so awful, I know exactly how nervous everyone is and it's so sour ," Izuku whined, lowering his hand as he got used to it.

Izuku stepped up for the sprint, kneeling down and frowning. If he tried to sprint, he'd end up on his hands and toes. If he stood up first, he would be slower, but he wouldn't look like a crazy person.

Then he thought of the girl who hopped across the line and decided that he cared more about not getting last than he cared about not being an outcast-- he was going to be one anyway.

Izuku ignored the baffled looks as he straightened, brushing off his pants. He didn't beat Katsuki, but his score was excellent, and the thought made him stand a little straighter.

The best score he got was for the endurance run-- that was what dogs and humans were built to do, and they only compounded on each other-- though he hadn't beat the girl on a scooter.

Most tests went similarly, with high but not outstanding scores that Hitoshi borrowed him for until they began the side steps. Izuku's movements were clumsier with the dog. That, paired with his now poor vision, kept tripping him up.

Compared to toe touches, the side steps were nothing. The dog made Izuku about as flexible as a wooden plank, and his score suffered. He had a lot of flexibility at his base, so he forced out an average score, but it wasn't easy.

With the inconsistencies in his scores and the fact that he and Hitoshi were up against eighteen other students, Izuku had no frame of reference for his final score. So, he huddled close to Hitoshi as Mr. Aizawa called them to gather, his heart in his throat.

"There's no time to go over every score; I'll just bring up the overall placements." Mr. Aizawa drawled, clicking a button on a small remote in his hand and bringing up a projected holo-screen.

Izuku's heart sank.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi cursed to himself as he read his name in the 20th slot. The field was quiet as every student waited tensely. "Nobody is getting expelled today." Eraserhead-- Mr. Aizawa drawled.

There was an explosion of murmurs, but one girl spoke above the rest. "I thought that was obvious. UA does things differently, but they wouldn't expel someone on the first day." She declared.

Mr. Aizawa shook his head. "I would. In fact, I have. While this does give me a good baseline of many of your strengths and weaknesses, your first 'quirk apprehension test' isn't about your quirks at all." He declared.

"I know most of you weren't paying too much attention to your classmates during these tests, but these rankings don't measure your physical scores." Mr. Aizawa explained, clicking a button on his remote.

"These are your physical scores." The bottom score on that list was 'Hagakure,' who was presumably the girl who whimpered at the reveal. After a moment, he turned off the screen.

"The purpose of this test was to measure four traits in each student. If any of you lacked two or more of those traits, I would have expelled you." Mr. Aizawa announced.

"Since nobody failed, nobody will be expelled. Today, at least." Hitoshi giggled highly, something between relief and hysteria, and Izuku squeezed his hand. His chest felt tight, and he was definitely panicking.

"Now then, Todoroki and Shinsou, stay behind. Everyone else, go change." Mr. Aizawa ordered, which didn't help his panic in the slightest.

Hitoshi was so focused on breathing that he didn't realize that Izuku hadn't left his side, even as their classmates shuffled off. He looked down at his friend, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the look on Izuku's face.

"Izuku." Hitoshi hissed, tugging on his friend's hand. "You can go, I'll be fine." Mr. Aizawa frowned, moving to approach when Izuku glared at him. Mr. Aizawa merely raised a brow and turned to Todoroki, pulling him aside.

Hitoshi gently shook Izuku's arm. "Izuku, come on, it's okay," He hissed, catching his friend's eyes. There was rage on his face, but Hitoshi had learned a lot about Izuku over time, and the fear in the furrow of his brow was unmistakable.

"He's a teacher," Izuku whispered, turning to glare at Mr. Aizawa when he looked in their direction. "I can't leave you alone with a teacher." On one hand, Hitoshi was really touched by that.

On the other, he really didn't want Izuku to get in trouble with a teacher that wasn't afraid to expel someone on day one. "It's Eraserhead, he's a hero." Hitoshi argued, trying to pull his hand from Izuku's.

"So?" Izuku muttered, something bitter in his tone. "That won't stop him from hurting you, if he wants to." Hitoshi stiffened. He felt like a story was behind that bitterness, and part of him was afraid to know what that story was about.

Izuku was floating. He knew there would come a time when the recent mastery of his quirk would bite him in the ass, but this was something else. He felt like he wasn't even in control of himself anymore.

Intellectually, he knew that a UA teacher was unlikely to be as bad as his old teachers. Intellectually, he knew that Eraserhead had a quirk equally as unsettling as Izuku and Hitoshi's.

That didn't make him any better at reconciling those facts with his past, especially when his person was in the perceived line of fire. That was why, when Eraserhead used his quirk, Izuku just slumped in relief.

"Sorry--" Izuku wheezed, shaking his head firmly. "I'm sorry, sir." Hitoshi helped Izuku steady himself, and he bit his lip nervously.

"Shinsou, do you mind if Midoriya stays for this conversation?" Mr. Aizawa asked, to which Hitoshi shook his head quickly. "Then I'll get to the point. You almost failed today's test." Hitoshi stiffened.

"Of the four traits I was looking for, you only exhibited two. Your drive and creativity were satisfactory. Can you guess what you didn't display?" He asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.

Hitoshi winced, letting Izuku go as he shuffled aside sheepishly. "Uh... Independence?" He asked hesitantly, to which Mr. Aizawa shook his head. "No. You lacked follow-through and quirk control. Now, I'm going to let this slide for a few reasons."

"The first being that I'm sure you were taking into account the feelings of your classmates when you chose not to use your quirk on anyone but Midoriya." He explained, and his face softened marginally.

"The other is that you still used your quirk; I wouldn't have been so forgiving if you had done every test without. Unfortunately, I think I can understand why you're hesitant to use it." Mr. Aizawa intoned.

Hitoshi nodded slowly. "Because of the nature of this course, I want you to know that you have my permission to use your quirk on other students during exercises." Mr. Aizawa moved to stand before the two students.

"With that in mind, I expect to see the follow-through I'm looking for during your first heroics lesson. Go change." He ordered, shooing Hitoshi away. Izuku gave Hitoshi a little thumbs up, and he slowly turned to leave. "I'll meet you at the doors." He muttered.

Mr. Aizawa hummed at that and turned to Izuku. "Midoriya, I'm aware your quirk can amplify your emotional state. What concerns me is why you felt that I was a threat at all." He stated bluntly, making Izuku wince.

"It's nothing, really, sir." Izuku managed, to which Mr. Aizawa frowned. "Really! It won't affect my classwork or anything, I promise!" Izuku insisted, which seemed to make Mr. Aizawa frown harder.

"I'll drop it for now." He allowed, and Izuku slumped. "But I want you to know that I will never, under any circumstances, harm a student in my care. Is that clear?" Izuku nodded rapidly, and Mr. Aizawa sighed softly.

"Go on." He muttered, and Izuku was off like a shot.

Shouta watched Midoriya make a break for the doors, grabbing Shinsou's sleeve and dragging him inside. He finally turned to head toward the classroom, sure there would be at least a couple of students waiting.

He was quickly getting used to Midoriya's quirk, at least. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the least of his problems with the boy. He was already dreading the reality of what he might uncover about a student who felt the need to physically shield his friend from Shouta.

Maybe he didn't want his friend to be expelled, and the quirk amplified his emotions that intensely. But Shouta knew better than to expect anything so benign.

Chapter Text

Shouta was startled awake, a curse in the air before he even remembered he was a person. He glowered at the kitten on his stomach. "Walkman." He grumbled, picking up the kitten and cradling him to his chest as he rolled out of bed.

Shouta gently tossed the cat onto the couch as he passed, padding to the kitchen for coffee and kicking the cat feeder to start it. He listened to paws skidding on the tile as Walkman made a mad dash for his bowl.

He poured grounds into the filter as he bit back a snort at the sound of the kitten growling at his own meal. "You're stupid," Shouta reminded the cat, leaning against the counter and watching the grey and white beast growl between his bites.

Shouta felt completely calm and ready for the day, and as soon as the thought crossed his mind, suspicion followed in equal measure. He frowned to himself, huffing softly. Something was definitely going to go wrong.

Shouta tried to keep his suspicions quiet, unwilling to let them become a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, instead of protesting when Powerloader pulled him aside, he quietly agreed to help him while his homeroom went to their first heroics lesson.

All Might wasn't the best at teaching, but he had decades of experience handling civilians, especially children and teens. The simple lesson plan Shouta had put together shouldn't be too difficult to follow.

He'd kept himself occupied for the beginning of the period, at least. Still, after ten minutes, the feeling in his gut hadn't settled like normal anxiety would. He sighed, pausing Powerloader during his lecture on safety.

"I have a bad feeling." Shouta said softly, and Powerloader stiffened up. "I'd like to check on my class before I help with your demonstration." He intoned as the support hero whirled around.

"Go-- go, do your thing, just come back when you're done." Powerloader insisted, and Shouta turned on his heel, stalking down the hallway. "I swear he has a sixth sense..." Shouta heard his co-worker grumble.

Hitoshi walked out in his rather plain grey jumpsuit, the only point of interest being the dark purple utility belt-- though it was practically black. He wasn't much one for aesthetics, even when Izuku had begged him to add something .

He was the first student out of the changing rooms, and All Might gave him a thumbs-up when he walked into the control room. Hitoshi nodded back, leaning up against the wall and waiting.

It was only a few seconds before the other students began to file out, with costumes that varied in complexity, logic, and pretty much everything else.

Izuku's costume wasn't much more interesting than Hitoshi's; it was mostly brown, save for the grey belt and jet-black cloak that ended just below his knees. Hitoshi thought he looked like the Grim Reaper in a ballet, all flowing fabric and agile grace.

Class began, and Hitoshi paid attention to the first battle, so he knew the girl with the high ponytail and her bird-headed teammate were a formidable combination. The red-haired boy put up a good fight against the girl at first, but once she got the upper hand, she refused to let go.

The boy with the tail didn't have much more luck-- the distance of the shadow quirk negated his close combat fighting style entirely, and the match was called.

The next fight was a little more interesting; if only for the light show from three bright quirks fighting at once. Once they converged, the lightning boy made a mad dash for the tank of the villain team, while the blond with the cape did his best to aim his laser at Iida.

It was fairly close, the constant attacks from the glitter blonde were forcing Iida to make a lot of sharp, skidding turns, but the electric blond had completely incapacitated his opponent, which freed him up to join Iida, and the glitter blond was overwhelmed pretty quickly after that.

Then Hitoshi saw his own name on the screen and abruptly remembered that he was part of the exercise as well. He was partnered with Uraraka, who was the bubbly girl that he'd apparently saved in the entrance exam.

Unfortunately, his opponents were Izuku and Todoroki, who appeared to be the iced-over boy glowering at nothing. Uraraka bounced to his side and he nodded at her, watching as the villain team left to prepare.

He walked with her to the front of the building, hands in his pockets. "Your quirk?" He asked flatly, blinking when she perked up.

"It's called Zero Gravity! I can negate the gravity of everything I touch with all five fingers." Uraraka held up a hand, showing off the little pads on her fingertips. He nodded.

"Mine is simple, I can control people once I catch a response. I think I might be able to catch Todoroki, if I make him mad enough, but Izuku knows my quirk really well." Hitoshi admitted, pausing before the front door of the building.

Uraraka nodded quickly. "Okay, that makes sense. What about Midoriya's quirk? You probably know his, too, right?" She said leadingly, bouncing on her toes. Hitoshi nodded.

"The only thing that matters is that he can borrow the traits of an animal-- which means both the strengths and weaknesses. For an exercise that involves combat, he'll choose the cat, which is more mobile but less sturdy." Hitoshi explained, his gaze trailing over the building.

"It would probably be best to split up." He decided. "Izuku's tough, and he'll be patrolling, but he's only one person. Can your quirk affect people?" He asked, stepping back to get a better view of the full building.

"Yeah! I have a weight limit, but you definitely weigh less than a robot. Why, do you have a plan already?" Uraraka wondered, examining the building. Hitoshi nodded, waving for Uraraka to follow him as he walked around the side of the building.

"If you can float me to the top, and go in from the front, we can check the building from the outside in-- we're bound to run into the bomb that way. Whoever runs into Izuku first should focus on stalling him while the other searches." He mused, looking down at her.

She nodded firmly, jumping when the horn sounded, starting the timer. Hitoshi held out a hand and she tapped it deliberately, sending him slowly drifting upward.

He grabbed the windowsills, using them to pull himself up faster until he reached the top floor. Hitoshi bobbed in the air as he forced the window open, and once he was in the building, waved to Uraraka from the window.

He crashed into the floor with a huff, scrambling up and dusting himself off, starting to inspect the floor as he wandered. Then Hitoshi felt a chill run up his spine, and he froze. He felt like he was being watched.

He didn't mind Todoroki's plan at all-- it's what Izuku would have done, once he considered the other team's quirks. It was a little annoying to be brushed aside like his contributions to the fight wouldn't even matter, but there were worse ways to be treated.

Izuku had given in to the urge to walk on his toes and fingertips as he prowled the top floor, silent. He breathed in, deeply, a grin splitting his cheeks at the familiar scent of coffee and animal shelter.

Hitoshi was on this floor. Izuku didn't think Uraraka was with him, but that was for the best. He raised a hand to tap his comm, his voice barely a whisper. "Hitoshi is up here. Uraraka isn't with him." He reported.

"Copy." Todoroki intoned, and Izuku turned his comm back off. He tilted his head, opening his mouth to sniff the air and gave in to the urge to hunt.

He was quiet as he padded along the linoleum, ears perked for-- there! Hitoshi was walking, two hallways over. Izuku smirked, speeding up a little and waiting at the corner, peering to see his friend, facing away from Izuku.

The world brightened, and Izuku lowered himself further, beginning to creep forward, eyes locked on the back of Hitoshi's head. When Hitoshi paused, Izuku went still for a moment.

When Hitoshi began to look around, Izuku leapt, landing heavily on Hitoshi's shoulders and back, a wild grin on his face as they tumbled to the floor. Izuku wrapped his arm around Hitoshi's throat, but the other boy dislodged him by rolling over.

"I'm going to ask Bakugou on a date--" Hitoshi blurted, and Izuku let out a confused hiss before the world went fuzzy.

Fuck.

"Hold out your wrists," Hitoshi ordered, grabbing the capture tape from his belt and wrapping it around Izuku's wrists before releasing him. "Sorry." He grinned before bolting off, searching the floor faster now that his noise level didn't matter.

"Midoriya has been captured!" All Might's voice boomed over the speakers, and Hitoshi smirked, tapping his earpiece. "Any luck?" He asked, throwing open doors and abandoning each empty room.

"Yeah, sort of? The bomb is on the third floor, but... I can't get through all of this ice." Uraraka admitted and Hitoshi cursed, turning to hurry down the stairwell.

"Start looking for something as heavy as you can use your quirk on." He ordered, crossing the fourth floor and ignoring all of the rooms. "Throw it as hard as you can and release it before impact, maybe?"

Hitoshi didn't know if that would help at all, but he was halfway down the stairs to the third floor when he heard cracking, and then a shattering crash. He turned to see a bookshelf sliding right for him and dove out of the way, sprinting for the icy cage.

"Stop, now . This exercise is over." Hitoshi tried to stop but slid on the ice until he crashed into the wall with a grunt. He carefully lifted himself up, looking at the other two. "Was that Mr. Aizawa?"

Chapter Text

Iida paused when Mr. Aizawa first walked into the room, then was frozen when he felt the fury radiating from his home room teacher. "Why are there students missing?" He asked, his voice nearly a growl as he glowered at All Might.

"Ah, Aizawa! They're just participating in the exercise, see?" Mr. Aizawa looked at the screen where Midoriya and Shinsou were tussling, and All Might's smile grew tense. "We're doing indoor battle simulations right now."

Iida stepped back as Mr. Aizawa stalked to the computer, glowering when All Might didn't move. Iida wasn't sure what possessed him to speak up, but he did. "Mr. Aizawa, sir..?" Iida croaked and trailed off when the man's glare was aimed his way.

"Why are you so damn pissed?" Bakugou blurted, voicing every thought in the room. Mr. Aizawa took a deep breath, placing one hand on All Might's shoulder while the other took hold of the grey scarf he wore.

"I'll tell you once I end the exercise." He pushed on All Might's shoulder. All Might opened his mouth. Mr. Aizawa interrupted him before he breathed. "Move, before I make you." He said, his tone promising more than his words.

After a long moment, All Might stepped back, and Mr. Aizawa grabbed the microphone.

Iida watched in blank horror as his home room teacher scolded All Might-- meeting the man, Iida had been under the impression that he didn't raise his voice. He was wrong.

Mr. Aizawa's words echoed around the room, his voice booming-- technically quieter than All Might's but far more grim as he chewed out the pro.

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are that nobody got injured? I know you don't because if you had, you wouldn't have discarded the lesson plan and done this!" He shouted, waving his hand to gesture to the students.

"These kids have quirks that are deadly in the wrong circumstances, did it even occur to you," Iida turned to the door as it opened, the four students from the exercise stepping in, looking sheepish and confused.

Mr. Aizawa looked back at the students, a frown on his face. "All of you, change and head back to your home room now." He ordered, turning back to the Number One Hero. "You, go back to the teacher's lounge and wait for Yamada. I have to make sure none of my students are hurt."

Iida was quick to turn to the door, holding it open. Of course, he was doing that to be courteous to his fellow students; it had nothing to do with the fact that it allowed him to hear the rest of their conversation.

"Aizawa, you can't truly believe I would let these children be injured in my care," Mr. Aizawa cut him off. "Not intentionally, I'll give you that much, but that doesn't make this any less of an insane lesson for the very first day of training, you absolute-- Iida, I see you, go," Mr. Aizawa ordered.

Iida winced and sheepishly jogged to catch up with his classmates.

Toshinori was a little off-put by the tongue-lashing his junior was spitting his way-- while young Aizawa had been a teacher for longer, surely his decades of pro-hero experience made up for it?

"Aizawa, I--" The younger hero cut Toshinori off. Again. That was beginning to get annoying. "I'm done with this, go. I'll send Yamada your way and Nezu as well; I won't be surprised if your supervisor status is revoked entirely."

Toshinori watched as the younger man turned and stalked off, anger rolling off him in waves. Really, the building wasn't far at all, only 5 seconds away, for All Might's power!

Perhaps Toshinori had been more focused on evaluating his student's potential with One for All than he should have been. He loathed the thought of picking someone so young, but he couldn't discount them based on age alone.

Toshinori shook his head, turning to leave the training ground. He was beginning to realize that young Aizawa did have a point, but the raw anger he'd displayed encouraged Toshinori to rethink his first impressions.

At first, he'd seen Eraserhead exactly as he presented himself; distant, logical and calculated, with a bad habit of sleeping between classes. It was becoming clearer that the man was more emotional than he pretended to be-- and maybe ought to be.

Regardless, young Aizawa had been working here longer, and All Might's hero status wouldn't do him much good in a room full of other pro heroes who knew his true, pathetic form.

Toshinori had miscalculated. He'd already come to terms with that and had been preparing an apology since, but it seemed he'd underestimated the severity of his misstep.

Once he entered the teacher's office, he'd been lambasted by an irate Present Mic whilst a business teacher glared him down from their desk. He attempted to take the scolding with grace, but it was hard not to feel frustrated in the face of his fellow hero's untempered wrath.

"Yamada, please-- will you at least let me apologize?" Toshinori pleaded, and the voice hero glowered at Toshinori but nodded. He took a deep breath, mentally going over his mistakes and how he could make up for them.

"You and Aizawa are right." Toshinori began politely. "I made a grievous error in judgment, and while no students were injured, they very well could have been. In hindsight, I should have asked for help."

Yamada's shoulders lowered, and Toshinori tried for a smile. "Thank you." He sighed, running his fingers through his limp hair. "I... Would like to apologize to Aizawa as well, but... I'll wait for him to calm down."

Shouta entered his classroom, facing his students from the podium. "I would like to apologize on behalf of UA; that exercise was fit for second years, not completely untrained freshmen." He apologized, gaze raking over each student in turn.

"Are any of you injured, even mildly?" He asked, biting back a snarl as far too many hands were raised. "If it's bleeding, or more severe than a bruise, see Recovery Girl." He ordered.

"Usually I'd only send you to her for serious injuries, but considering today's mishap, I'll make an exception." Shouta scrubbed at his face. "With that covered, I'll tell you the lesson plan for Thursday's Heroics Class."

Chapter Text

Izuku slumped into his seat, looking over the votes for class president. He wasn't surprised that he hadn't won-- Izuku was glad for it, actually. Though, he wondered who had placed a vote for him.

"A three-way tie?" a girl with green hair commented. "Yaoyorozu won president, but Shinsou, Iida, and I all have two votes," she pointed out to the class.

Shinsou made a bewildered noise, and Izuku hid his smirk. "Well, then we'll hold another vote, where only the three in the tie can be chosen!" Iida declared, to a series of nods.

With that began the next round of votes, which Iida volunteered to tally. At first, Shinsou looked like he might lose, but he caught up to the other two-- until they were in another three-way tie, with one vote left to count.

Iida put the final tally by his name, winning the vote for vice class president. He looked rather pleased as he erased the board for Mr. Aizawa, who rolled from under his desk to stand.

"We're done? Good, Class President Yaoyorozu and Vice Iida, go sit back down," He drawled.

Izuku picked a spot beside Hitoshi for lunch, smiling awkwardly when Uraraka and Iida joined them. "Hey, guys. Oh and, um, congrats, Iida," Izuku greeted.

Uraraka nodded. "Yeah, Iida! Congrats," She chirped, a little bit of smugness in her grin. It softened before she spoke again. "I voted for you, by the way. You're just really organized!"

Iida chuckled, a little bashful at the praise. "Thank you very much, Uraraka! I'll admit that I voted for myself." He turned to glance at Hitoshi and Midoriya. "And you two, who did you both vote for?"

Hitoshi pointed his chopsticks at Uraraka, who squawked out a "Why?" Hitoshi shrugged, turning back to his food. "You're social. I would have voted for Izuku, but he'd hate being in the spotlight like that," He intoned.

"Yeah, I probably would have. I voted for Hitoshi." Izuku bit back a snort when Hitoshi turned a glare on him. "What? I thought it would be good for you." Izuku couldn't help but laugh when Hitoshi scowled harder.

Then, an alarm went off, and everyone panicked.

The rest of the first week was uneventful, which Hitoshi decided was probably good. Now, he sat across from Mr. Koketsu, poking at his food as music played softly from the TV. Hitoshi sometimes wondered why his caretaker hated silence so much.

"Got an email," Mr. Koketsu croaked, wincing softly. "Said that a lesson went poorly," He paused, scanning Hitoshi with a small frown. "Were you hurt?"

"No, just cold," He murmured, and Mr. Koketsu nodded stiffly. Hitoshi looked down at his plate, pushing the food around as his leg bounced under the table.

"The 22nd," Koketsu coughed softly, rubbing his scarred throat. "We can go... mini golf?" His voice pitched awkwardly, and he winced again, reaching for his water.

Hitoshi blinked, processing the words before shrugging, a little bewildered. "Sure?" He murmured. Mr. Koketsu softened, and Hitoshi nodded, looking back at his plate.

He was weird, but at least Hitoshi's new foster parent wasn't a douche.

Hitoshi helped Izuku with the massive bag of dog food, shuffling backward into the shelter storeroom. "I hate delivery day," He grunted, earning a breathy chuckle as Izuku kicked the back door shut.

"It's not that bad. Extra strength training, you know?" Hitoshi glared at Izuku for that remark, dropping the bag onto the floor with a grunt. Izuku moved to grab the cat food while Hitoshi pushed the bag along the tile.

"Anyone catch your eye?" Hitoshi asked, closing the closet back up once the food was stored. Izuku hummed as they turned to their bags.

"Trashbag," Izuku decided, and Hitoshi nearly choked on his laughter. Izuku chuckled softly as he shouldered on his bag. "What, he's a sweet dog!" Hitoshi wheezed harder.

"I meant in class!" He managed, and Izuku covered his face with his hands, blindly walking to the door-- and missing, bumping into the wall, which just made them both start laughing harder.

"Mr. Koketsu?" Hitoshi called, knocking on the door to the office. It opened, and Mr Koketsu peered out. "Uh-- we have a field trip next week," Hitoshi blurted, handing him the packet of information.

Mr. Koketsu took it, leaning against the door frame as he skimmed through it. He nodded, pulling a pen from his desk and signing it. "Early trip," He commented softly, handing Hitoshi the papers back.

"Thanks, Mr. Koketsu," Hitoshi said as he checked for the signature, turning to head back to his room.

"You don't have to call me mister," The man murmured, stepping out of his office and closing the door behind him, passing Hitoshi to get a glass of water.

"I don't know what else I should call you," Hitoshi said carefully, padding to the coat closet to put the papers back into his bag. His foster father looked thoughtful, eyeing Hitoshi for a moment before huffing through his nose.

"Anything you want." He said softly, leaning back against the counter. Hitoshi pressed his lips together, nodding slowly as he backed away a bit before slinking into his room.

Hitoshi would just call him Koketsu, for now.

Hitoshi paused on the sidewalk, turning to Izuku, who was frozen in place. He followed his friend's gaze, but he wasn't sure what he was looking for. When he looked back, Izuku looked sick.

"Woah, are you okay?" Hitoshi took Izuku's arm, leading him away from the congested sidewalk. "Izuku?"

Izuku covered his mouth, tears building in his eyes. "Mom. She looked right at me." He croaked, and the tears began to spill. "And she ran away." Hitoshi winced. Fuck, that was bad, he would know.

Hirogorou jumped when his phone rang with Hitoshi's notification sound. He scrambled to grab it, panic rising in his chest. He'd just been going to volunteer, what could have happened?

'can i stay at izukus for the nihgt'

Oh, thank fuck. Hirogorou slumped, taking a deep breath. He glanced at his calendar, pursing his lips.

'I thought we were going to mini golf,' He sent, hoping it was neutral, rather than accusing. Hirogorou wasn't privy to all the details, but he knew the basics of why Hitoshi had changed placements.

Of course, his desperate attempts at policing his own tone led to him not actually telling Hitoshi why he'd wanted to go on an outing. Still, Hirogorou let his shoulders slump at the reply.

'sorry, please?'

He wasn't mad with Hitoshi— he was a good kid, his friend probably needed him right now. Hirogorou stood up with a grimace, leaning hard on his desk as his knee popped painfully.

'okay, be careful'

It was silly to be so sad about this; he hadn't told Hitoshi specifically so he wouldn't feel pressured to go, but he still felt disappointment curl in his chest as he padded to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge, pulling out the little cake he'd gotten earlier in the day, sighing softly. Hirogorou would save some birthday cake for Hitoshi.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi scrolled on his phone, his mind occupied. Izuku hadn't said a word since they'd gotten to his apartment, just disappearing into his bedroom and leaving Hitoshi in the living room. So, he slept on the couch.

More accurately, he worried on the couch in between short naps punctuated with spikes in his heart rate that woke him up. Hitoshi shot up when Izuku opened his door, padding into the living room. "Hey." He breathed.

Izuku landed on the couch cushion, slumping into Hitoshi's side. "You didn't have to stay." He rasped, and Hitoshi huffed before taking his hand. Izuku was silent for a long moment. "She stopped coming home just before we met."

"How…" Hitoshi trailed off, his mind whirring with questions and attempts to rationalise what he already knew with the new information being handed to him. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" He asked finally.

"I thought I could handle it! I could, I was right, she kept paying the bills, and she had groceries delivered— It wasn't that bad!" Izuku insisted, waving his arm as he spoke. "I just… I just don't know why. I thought she just gave up…"

"But she ran when she saw you." Hitoshi finished. Izuku nodded, scrubbing at his face. "And you still don't know why." Izuku slumped as he sobbed, and Hitoshi pulled him a little closer. "I have to tell someone, you know that, right?"

Izuku only sobbed harder, grip tightening on Hitoshi's sleeve. "Not right now," He gasped, "I'm not ready, just— just give me a week, please?" He begged, and Hitoshi just… He couldn't say 'no' to Izuku. Not for something like this.

When Hitoshi got home that morning, there was breakfast on the table, but Koketsu wasn't there. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, if Koketsu wasn't so insistent on eating together. Hitoshi took the plate to his room.

The rest of the weekend was quiet. Koketsu was more distant than usual, which Hitoshi thought was a considerable feat for the emotional equivalent of a brick wall. He should have known better than to get comfortable.

Never mind that Koketsu seemed more sad than angry; some people's anger simmered instead of boiled, and Hitoshi wasn't going to be burned again. He just quietly packed his essentials into one bag and waited for it all to boil over.

At least he had that field trip to look forward to.

Mr. Aizawa was a sadist, Hitoshi had learned quickly. During regular gym classes, he was a veritable drill sergeant, but he didn't let it stop at that. No, he also had to force them to the brink of quirk exhaustion during heroics.

It was a welcome break to start heroics class without warm-up drills from hell, and instead a leisurely bus ride. Hitoshi sat next to Izuku, taking his hand out of habit. Izuku squeezed his hand and continued to chat with Uraraka.

"I'm usually pretty blunt, so I'll just say it outright," Asui blurted, looking at Izuku as the chatter slowed. "I don't understand your quirk. It seems to do a lot of different things and I can't figure out how they connect to each other.

Izuku stiffened, sitting straight up. "Oh, well— It's an accumulator; I build up energy from different animals and use that to transform. That limits my transformation time; it's a hard limit based on the amount of energy I have stored."

Asui tilted her head. "But what about your mutations? Those don't seem related to an animal transformation quirk." She pressed, and Izuku paused for a moment. When he went to answer, he was cut off before he made a sound.

"His mutations are because it's a death quirk." Bakugou drawled. "Surprised nobody figured that out yet. The nerd needs to kill things to use their energy." Izuku stilled, grip tightening on Hitoshi's hand as the bus went eerily silent.

"That's… not true, is it, Midoriya?" Uraraka asked quietly. Bakugou snorted at that as the bus rolled to a stop. Hitoshi moved to correct her when Mr. Aizawa called to the students.

"Enough chatting, up and out." He ordered, stepping off the bus. Hitoshi stayed by Izuku as the students filed after him, watching him activate his quirk. Hitoshi wondered if he would ever get used to seeing Izuku's quirk start up, or if he was doomed to be spellbound every time.

The building was massive; a looming dome of glass and concrete. Izuku looked like he might buzz out of his skin, a grin splitting his cheeks as he examined the building. The doors loomed behind another hero as they spoke up.

"Good morning! I'm Space Hero: Thirteen; the hero who designed this training facility. It's rescue focused with various simulated disasters that could happen in the real world with little to no warning. I call it the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, or the USJ!" Hitoshi barely choked back a snort.

The rest of the class held no restraint, bursting into giggles and murmurs about Universal Studios Japan as the giant doors whirred open. When they stepped in, the whispers faded from jokes to quiet awe.

Izuku blinked as his eyes adjusted to the bright lighting, gazing over the plaza in awe. He'd expected it to be grand— UA always was— but this was a lot to take in. Izuku looked at the precarious zones, the ones that looked unstable— he'd excel at those.

He focused on Thirteen as they began to speak. They gave a firm lecture on the power of quirks and how dangerous they could be if misused— Izuku felt the grim seriousness in their tone, even as they tried to play it off. Izuku began to feel sick.

When Izuku was younger, Katsuki's grandma passed away. Since his mother had no one to watch him, she took him to the funeral. He'd got more and more ill the closer they'd got to the cemetery, his quirk buzzing under his skin.

Now, as a beast with an exposed brain lumbered into the plaza, he felt that pull again, like the beast was its own little cemetery. Izuku hadn't realised he was stepping forward until Hitoshi pulled him back, looking alarmed.

Izuku shook himself, refocusing on the situation at hand. He watched his teacher jump into the fray as the students turned to the doors. Then a villain materialised in the way, mist-like purple clouds that seemed to peer into the void.

Izuku focused on the villain— another cemetery— as he spoke, voice calm and dull. "We are the League of Villains. We were under the impression that All Might would be here, but it appears not. So be it— my role has not changed." The clouds began to swirl as Katsuki and another student attacked.

They both disappeared into the mist, and Izuku whirled to grab onto Hitoshi as they were enveloped in darkness. He felt Hitoshi's hand in his own as he blindly grabbed at the void, static-filled leather catching in his claws as they floated in nothingness.

Then he was falling, and landing on a heap of limbs with a pained grunt. A hand reached for him and he swiped. The villain cried out, cradling his bleeding hand and glaring at Izuku. Izuku hissed as he stood, baring his teeth and stepping over Kaminari's legs.

The villain punched, and Izuku ducked under it, grabbing onto his arm and using it to jump onto the attacker, kicking out with clawed feet and knocking him down. Izuku stomped on the man's head until he went limp.

Izuku dropped the man's arm, stepping back until he stood beside Hitoshi, a growl on his lips. They were still in the facility, but they were clearly in one of the disaster areas. "Here, kitty-kitty! We're just here to kill ya!" Someone cooed.

"Holy shit, we're gonna die." Kaminari whimpered, and yelped when Hitoshi slapped him over the back of the head with a huff.

"Not if we stay calm; we're not dead yet, and we can keep it that way." Hitoshi hissed as Kaminari rubbed his head. "They aren't attacking us yet; if we keep our cool, we might be able to get some information." He murmured.

Izuku took a deep breath, glancing down the cliff side and catching a look at the plaza. He bit back a curse; Mr. Aizawa was still outnumbered. Then Izuku heard someone move to rush them, and he turned away to leap into the fight.

It was chaos— Izuku knew Hitoshi was at his back, and he heard the boy shouting something at Kaminari, but he tuned out the words. He focused on the fight, on how skin split under his claws as he yowled.

Ozone filled his nose and Izuku whirled midair to avoid the source, landing in a crouch. He leapt out of the way as the villain grabbed at him with crackling hands, sprinting to regroup with Hitoshi and Kaminari. "Electric quirk!" He warned.

"Seriously?" They shouted— Hitoshi sounded pissed, but Kaminari just sounded incredulous. "Don't you have anything better to do with your miserable life, you deadbeat?" Hitoshi spat, to which the villain scoffed.

"I don't need to explain myself to some brats," The man in the skull mask trailed off, and Hitoshi's lip twitched. Izuku grinned as he clashed into another villain who'd jumped at them, falling back into the rhythm of the fight.

"Back off, or I'll fry you all!" Kaminari screamed, sparking with electricity as Hitoshi brought a rock down on the villains' head. The remaining few villains cursed him out but backed away, not following them when they ran.

Izuku helped them both down the cliff side, pushing them to run ahead of him as they touched down on the plaza. Kaminari didn't see his plan, rushing to meet up with the other students, but Hitoshi grabbed Izuku's arm.

"You're going to try to help, aren't you?" He accused, glancing at the fountain. Izuku winced, and Hitoshi groaned. He shook Izuku's arm as he spoke. "You're an idiot— do you really think he'd let us? He'd get distracted trying to protect us,"

Izuku pressed a finger to Hitoshi's lips as the leader began to talk. He leaned forward as he listened in, fear crawling up his throat. "He's counting Mr. Aizawa's blinks." Izuku murmured and Hitoshi cursed.

"You aren't going in alone." Hitoshi insisted, and Izuku swallowed his building argument as he thought it over. Finally, he nodded, and they fell into step as they ran to the centre. "We're so getting expelled for this."

Chapter Text

Shouta kicked out at Shigaraki, his right arm hanging limply at his side as he jumped back into the main fight. He tried to keep the main grunt fighters out as long as he could without killing them, but the longer he fought these people determined to murder children, the fewer fucks he gave about it.

Shouta felt his heart stutter when he heard a familiar yowl at his side— suddenly he wasn't fighting alone, but part of him really, really wished he were. He heard the unmistakably crackly war cry of a teenage boy, and a blur of red rammed into a larger villain.

He could hear Bakugou's furious shouting, and while Shouta desperately wished his students weren't fighting, a selfish part of him was relieved that he had backup now, inexperienced as it was.

Then, there was a pressure on his head, and everything went dark.

Shouta forced his eyes open, his head spinning as he tried to see through the blood dripping into his eyes. He couldn't think straight, but he could see Shigaraki well enough to erase his quirk for a few seconds. Later, he'd thank every deity he could think of that he had.

Then Shouta's head hit the concrete, and everything went blissfully dark.

Izuku felt time stop for an instant as Shigaraki pressed his hand onto Hitoshi's face. Then, everything sped up so fast that it was nothing but a series of flashes. There was warm blood and flesh under his claws. Izuku saw Hitoshi's face as the world fell out from under his feet.

Then he was flying, barely managing to land on his arms instead of his neck as he tumbled across concrete, rolling to a stop. Izuku looked up, taking in the blood across Hitoshi's face and dripping from Shigaraki's hand. His ears were ringing.

Then the Nomu ran at him, and Izuku realised something. He wasn't dead, yet. Izuku felt something spark in his chest as he was yanked into the air, his arm shattering in its grip as he flailed. Izuku didn't want to be dead.

He didn't want to die. Izuku's chest ached with it, because for once in his life, he wasn't dead, and he didn't want to be! He was pretty sure he was screaming, but then it all went dark, and Izuku wasn't sure of anything at all.

Izuku was screaming as the doors to the USJ slammed open, and All Might stalked in, his signature grin contorted into a grimace. In an instant, Hitoshi was at the outer edge of the plaza, and All Might was placing Mr. Aizawa in his arms. "Take care of him for me."

Then he was gone, and Izuku wasn't screaming any more. Hitoshi turned to see him, and his heart dropped. Kirishima quickly took Mr. Aizawa from his arms. "Go help Midoriya, bro," He murmured, and Hitoshi made a break for his best friend.

"Izuku!" Hitoshi shouted, dropping to his knees. Izuku's eyes were open, rolled back as always, but he wasn't moving. Hitoshi clambered over, dropping to press his ear against Izuku's eerily still chest. He heard… something, though no heartbeat.

It was enough to give Hitoshi hope, at least. He steeled his resolve and rolled Izuku onto his back, placing his interlocked fists on his sternum and praying to a god he didn't believe in as he counted.

Hitoshi heard shouting and cursing, but he tuned it all out in favour of clicking his tongue in a rhythm and carefully ignoring the crack beneath his palms. Izuku would be fine— he always looked dead, but he never was. He'd be fine.

Hitoshi held onto that hope, his vision blurry as his eyes filled with hot tears as he lost track of time. Eventually he paused, diving back down to listen again. He sobbed in relief at the faint heartbeat, squeezing his eyes shut.

Izuku wasn't dead yet— he wasn't dead. Hitoshi flinched when he heard whistling, sitting up and seeing the spiralling force that meant Izuku was using his quirk. He placed his hand on Izuku's throat, the fluttering pulse under his fingertips soothing him.

Then, bright light exploded from Izuku's chest, and he was forced to cover his eyes.

When he blinked the spots out of his vision, the Nomu that All Might was fighting had been thrown through the ceiling, and a creature of light was coiled around All Might, guarding him fiercely and snarling at Shigaraki.

It looked like… Well, Hitoshi wasn't sure. It kept shifting and sparking, but it mostly seemed like a dog or a cat— or a rabbit? No, now it looked like a bird— he shook his head, trying to ignore the oncoming migraine and looking away.

There was a smaller ball of light on Izuku's chest, and Hitoshi hesitantly reached for it, flinching when it bounced up and swirled around him in a circle. He got a better look when it stopped, looking up at him with big, dark eyes.

A kitten with two white spots that reminded him of a, "Cassette?" Hitoshi breathed as the ghostly cat hopped onto his thigh and curled up on his lap, purring softly. He wondered if he was dreaming.

Hitoshi didn't notice when the heroes arrived— though he definitely noticed when someone tried to take Izuku from his arms, and he lashed out before he realised who was before him. Midnight ducked under his flail of an attack, sympathy on her face as she met his eyes.

Hitoshi followed numbly after the stretcher his best friend was being wheeled away on, watching him be hauled into an ambulance and driven away, sirens blaring. He was silent as the heroes on the scene performed triage, and he only shook his head when they asked about serious injuries.

The world was a blur to him. The whole class was taken back to the school, and other students tried to talk to him— he thought he saw Uraraka and Iida in the haze, but he wasn't sure— as well as teachers, but all he could think about was Izuku.

Hitoshi was being shaken, and there was a voice he recognised, hoarse and cracking with desperation. "Hitoshi!" He blinked once, reality crashing back into him as he peered into pale green eyes, wide with fear. Hitoshi watched Koketsu's face— usually so blank and neutral— crumple with relief.

"Oh, baby…" Koketsu had been crying, his eyes red and his cheeks splotchy and wet, and Hitoshi felt himself begin to tear up as the day's events caught up to him all at once. Koketsu looked into his eyes, searching for a long time, before gently pulling Hitoshi into a hug. "You'll be okay…" Koketsu coughed roughly.

Hitoshi trembled as he brought his hands up to hug his guardian back, curling into the fabric of a soft jumper as he broke down into heaving sobs. "Izuku…" He managed, burying his face into Koketsu shoulder. "Izuku, I had to— he was dead," Hitoshi wailed, and his foster father made a strange sound.

Koketsu tightened his hold, one hand settling on the back of Hitoshi's head as he began to rock them side to side, rubbing Hitoshi's back. "He's alive, Hitoshi— nobody's dead, nobody died, I promise, baby," Koketsu coughed softly when his voice cracked, but he kept talking, reassuring Hitoshi until his voice gave out.

Chapter Text

The ride home was quiet, save for interspersed sniffling and Hitoshi occasionally hiccuping. Koketsu held his hand the whole way home, his gnarled and scarred fingers curled firmly around Hitoshi's until he had no choice but to let go.

The flat was dark, when they shuffled in. Koketsu turned on the lights as he gently urged Hitoshi to sit on the couch, keeping one hand on his foster son at all times and joining him on the couch. Finally, he drew back enough to choppily sign, 'Are you hungry, kid?' Hitoshi shrugged, and Koketsu nodded.

'Order us something light.' He signed, unlocking his phone and pressing it into Hitoshi's hands. 'I'll grab blankets and pillows, so we can sleep in the main room.' Hitoshi sniffled, managing a wobbly smile as he nodded.

After an hour, they were eating a light dinner while bundled in a sort of pillow fort, some stupid comedy show on the TV. Hitoshi hesitantly leaned against Koketsu, who silently wrapped his arm around him, pulling him closer. "Is Izuku really okay?" Hitoshi rasped.

Koketsu grabbed his phone, opening it and pulling up a voicemail. He pressed play and turned up the volume, tilting the screen toward Hitoshi. "This is an automated voice message from UA. Your student was involved in an incident during a school activity. Please collect them from campus immediately."

Koketsu rubbed Hitoshi's shoulder as the robotic voice continued. "Number of students injured: 13. No other casualties reported." There was a beep, and the message ended. Hitoshi buried his face into his guardian's shoulder, biting his lip and trying not to cry again.

Koketsu reached out to pass Hitoshi his glass of water, carding through his hair and whispering softly. "You can cry. I've got you." He promised.

Izuku woke up slowly, his vision fading in as he came back to consciousness, the sound of beeping and whirring in his ears. He blinked, grimacing at the dryness in his eyes as he closed them for the first time in probably hours. By the time they'd stopped burning, the events of yesterday had come back to him.

Izuku carefully shimmied backward on his cot to sit up, groping the air with his unbroken arm to hit the 'call nurse' button. He took stock of himself, of the cast on his arm and his bandaged body, sighing softly with relief. He was alive.

The room was empty, save for himself. Izuku tried not to cry at that realisation, instead focusing on the pattern on his hospital gown until a nurse walked in. "Hello, Midoriya. It's good to see you awake, let me go ahead and take your vitals."

Izuku was given his phone, at least. He was under observation after his heart had stopped, but they couldn't go forward with more treatment until they contacted his mother. The nurse assured him that they would find a way to get a hold of her, but by midnight, Izuku gave up hope.

Izuku didn't look up as the door to his room opened, focused on texting Hitoshi. "Midoriya?" He looked up to see his English teacher hovering by the door, face pinched with concern. "Aizawa's stable— a nurse said you asked." Izuku slumped in relief, letting out a shaky sigh.

"Midoriya, do you know why we can't seem to contact your mother?" Mr Yamada asked softly, and Izuku was helpless to stop the tears that began to build as he looked away. "Okay, kiddo. Is there anyone we can contact? A family friend, or a relative?" He asked, sitting beside Izuku's bed.

Izuku considered the Bakugou's for a moment, but dismissed the thought. Katsuki hated him, and he hadn't spoken to his parents in years— they might not even remember him. "No. Not really." He whispered.

Izuku hadn't slept well after that visit. He was between fitful naps when his door opened again, and he saw a blur rolling in from the corner of his opened eye. "Does he really sleep like that?" Mr Aizawa whispered, sounding unsettled.

"Yeah, he does. Gives the little listener some awful dry eye, too." Mr Yamada murmured, and Izuku heard the door close. "I tried to tell you that visiting while he was asleep wouldn't help; if he were awake, he'd at least be moving."

"The heart monitor is reassuring, if nothing else. You said that Shinsou had to resuscitate him?" Mr Aizawa confirmed, rolling to Izuku's side. There was a huff as Mr Yamada settled into a seat, letting out a sigh.

"Yeah. Poor kid— he was out of it the whole way back to school, broke down the moment he saw his dad. He'll probably come visit as soon as he can." Mr Aizawa hummed at that, and Izuku heard a creak.

"And Midoriya's guardian situation?" Mr Aizawa asked softly.

"We can't get a hold of Midoriya Inko; she immigrated to the States over the weekend, and changed all of her contact info— even her email address. Our best guess is that she joined her husband, but there's no way to be sure." Mr Yamada sighed.

"I just don't get it. He's got his… eccentricities, but from what I can tell, he's a good kid. Friendly, polite, he even volunteers. But he's the only thing that tied Inko to Japan, besides her nationality." Mr Yamada's hand entered Izuku's darkening vision, fiddling with the wires above his head.

"Some parents shouldn't be parents. That's just how it is." Mr Aizawa drawled, and Izuku's vision faded out entirely.

Hitoshi woke up to the sound of a familiar alarm playing. He buried his face into his pillow, which hummed softly. Hitoshi paused as he remembered three things. One, pillows didn't hum. Two, he was upright, not laying down. Three, yesterday.

He shot up, tripping out of the tangle of blankets and hitting the floor. He heard shuffling behind him as he sat up, seeing his guardian rubbing his eyes and moving to stretch. Hitoshi grimaced when Koketsu— no, that sounded wrong now— wrung out his spine like a dishrag before standing up.

Hitoshi stood up, and Hirogorou pulled him into a hug, pressing a kiss into his tangled hair. When he drew back, he signed. 'Go get cleaned up, I'll call and see if we can visit your friend.' Hitoshi nodded frantically, stumbling to his room.

A few minutes later, Hirogorou texted him from the living room. 'No luck, he's not cleared for visitors, sorry', Hitoshi sighed, but he wasn't all that surprised.

'he texted me last night i just saw it before you called' Hitoshi replied, stepping into the living room. "He said he's okay." Hitoshi slumped against the door frame and sighed. "But I think I know why he can't have visitors. I… should have told you as soon as I found out." Hitoshi admitted quietly.

Hirogorou waved for Hitoshi to sit down, motioning for him to continue. "Well… You know how I stayed at his place the day we were gonna go to golf?" He began.

Chapter Text

Shouta was technically supposed to be out of work, but when he found out that one of his students was in a questionable home situation, rest was the last thing on his mind. The only things in his way were the two full arm casts, which made it impossible to type without taking drastic measures.

Before he could even consider his options, Hizashi snatched the laptop away and turned it right off, which was fair. "Will you at least tell me what you've found?" He grumbled, leaning back on the cot.

Hizashi huffed, but relented. "Well, we got an email from a concerned parent— apparently Shinsou knew about Midoriya's situation before the attack, but only just told his parents about it. With the context from that, it seems like a pretty open-closed abandonment case, from Midoriya's side."

"For now, since you're his home room teacher, we're his temporary guardians until we can find a more permanent solution." Hizashi sighed. "Which means we have to go see him and talk to his doctors." Shouta let out a hum.

"Remind me why it's a bad idea to go track Midoriya Inko down and wring her neck?" He grumbled, softening when Hizashi snorted. Shouta sobered, straightening up a little. "How is he?"

Hizashi leaned back, his leg idly bouncing as he spoke. "He's still under observation; whatever he did in the USJ nearly killed him, and the doctors think it might have been his own quirk." Shouta cursed under his breath.

Shouta padded into Midoriya's room, following at Hizashi's back. He made eye contact with the boy as he picked at his lunch, looking pensive. "Good Morning, Mr Aizawa." Midoriya murmured, looking back to his food.

"Morning, kid." Shouta landed in a chair near Midoriya's bed, scrutinising him. "How are you feeling?" He asked after it became clear that the boy wasn't going to say more.

"I'm fine." Midoriya murmured, setting aside his tray. He brought his knees up, resting his unbroken arm over them. "When can I leave?"

Hizashi sat on the bench at the end of the cot, lacing his fingers together and resting his arms on his knees. "Well, that depends on whether your heart has done anything strange. If it hasn't, then you'll be released into our care today,"

He tapped one finger to his wrist. "With a fancy little heart monitor right here, just in case. You don't have to wear it forever; just a couple of weeks." Hizashi let his hands drop, and Shouta watched Midoriya's face in his periphery.

He nodded solemnly, his green curls— dry and dull from the hospital shampoo— swaying. "And… What about my stuff? And my flat?" Midoriya asked finally, looking up at Shouta even as he ducked his head.

Shouta softened. "We'll send someone to pack it up, and you can pick out what you want and need from there. Anything that won't fit in our flat will have to go into storage." He explained, keeping his as voice soft as he could make it.

Midoriya nodded distantly.

Izuku watched as people he didn't know began to pack his life away, quietly marking some boxes as his, and others as things that had been his mothers. Hitoshi was eager to see him again, but Izuku wouldn't make good company.

Then, Hitoshi began spamming his phone with stupid cat memes and photos from the animal shelter— Trashbag had wrecked the showroom by shaking a bag of treats like a chew toy and making the other dogs riot— which made him feel lighter.

Izuku's replies were infrequent and short, but Hitoshi kept sending him messages anyway. It was nice to remember how much Hitoshi cared— he would never go this far for someone he just tolerated, or even liked.

Izuku set his backpack down on the floor of his new— temporary— room, walking into the bed and tilting forward to land atop the sheets, grunting when that aggravated his cracked ribs.

"You okay?" Mr Yamada asked from the doorway as Izuku shifted to try and ease the itch under his cast. He curled his unbroken hand into a thumbs-up, holding it over his prone form, which earned him a chuckle.

Izuku heard footsteps leading away as he rolled onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling. At least Mr Aizawa had a cat. Izuku tended toward dogs at the shelter— mostly because Hitoshi loved those cats enough for both of them— but he liked cats, too.

As if summoned by the thought, a small weight landed on the bed, and Izuku looked over at a strangely familiar grey cat. He grabbed his phone and took a photo, sending it to Hitoshi.

'am i crazy or is this walkman'

Izuku let the message sit for a moment before getting up as his stomach protested his late lunch. He padded out of his room, quietly slinking into the kitchen and pausing. He really wasn't sure if he was allowed to just take food. Izuku was kind of like a guest, right? Should he ask first?

Before he could get too caught up in the semantics of his situation, Mr Aizawa called from the living room, "There's easy meals in the cabinet on the far right. Grab me a jelly pouch while you're in there, could you?" Izuku's shoulders relaxed.

Once some ramen was in the microwave, he brought a jelly pouch into the living room, setting it beside Mr Aizawa's laptop and awkwardly curling up on the couch to wait on his food. "This is so weird." He blurted, ignoring how his cheeks tingled— his blush was invisible, so if he ignored it, it wasn't real.

Mr Aizawa snorted softly, scratching the bandages on his arm. "A little." He acquiesced, returning to the stack of papers by his computer. "When is your friend coming to visit?" He asked idly, and Izuku frowned.

"I didn't know I could…" Izuku trailed off as the microwave beeped, happily taking the excuse to leave this awkward conversation. He could feel his teacher's eyes on him as he darted into the kitchen.

"Second drawer past the sink." Mr Aizawa called, a hint of amusement in his voice. Izuku hesitantly sat at the table, unsure if he was allowed to eat at the couch. "You can have Shinsou over; he keeps stealing his father's phone to call me and ask for you anyway."

Izuku covered his face, silently wishing pain upon his best friend, as Mr Aizawa turned back to his work, huffing out a faint laugh.

The moment Hitoshi saw Izuku, he made a break for him— Izuku was left reeling as he was dragged into a hug, staring over his shoulder as Mr Aizawa spoke to a shorter man with faintly blue hair— if Izuku didn't know better, he might mistake him as actually related to Hitoshi.

"Um. Hitoshi?" Izuku murmured, hesitantly patting his friend's shoulders. "Are you… okay?" Hitoshi drew back, looking at Izuku with teary eyes. Izuku panicked, sputtering, "Oh no, why are you crying?" He croaked, his own eyes welling up already.

Hitoshi laughed wetly, letting go of Izuku to wipe his eyes. "You're okay, I'm fine, I just…" He sniffed, pulling Izuku back into his arms. "I'm just really happy to see you, you know?" Izuku slumped with relief, nodding.

The drive to school was painfully awkward. Izuku and Hitoshi— who had refused to go home last night— sat in the backseat as Mr Yamada drove him and Mr Aizawa to UA. There was quiet pop music playing on the radio, and a bandaged hand came up to change the station.

Mr Aizawa stopped on a station and the air was filled with metal music for the rest of the ride.

Izuku and Hitoshi were there before any of their classmates, and it was a little easier for Izuku to feel normal in a more familiar environment. They ended up talking about their costumes and how they could be changed after some experience in them.

"I'm not getting rid of the cloak. I won't even trip on it!" Izuku pouted, and Hitoshi rolled his eyes.

"Just because you haven't tripped yet, doesn't mean you won't. You're planning to go twilight, anyway; a full cloak is bad for both sides of that." Hitoshi argued.

"Okay, but consider; Grim Reaper callback." Izuku bit back a snort when Hitoshi's exasperation filtered into a completely deadpan stare.

"Midoriya!" Izuku jumped, looking to the door and locking eyes with Iida. "It's good to see you! I'm very glad you're… alright." Iida hesitated when he saw Izuku's cast, but decided not to bring it up.

"Thanks." Izuku murmured, scratching above his cast and looking down at his desk.

The rest of his classmates greetings were equally awkward. It made sense, when the last time they'd seen him was as he was being carted off in an ambulance two weeks prior, but it was still unpleasant. Izuku was able to power through it until home room began.

The classes were comforting in their normalcy, and Izuku was able to slip back into the student mindset without issue. By heroics, Izuku was almost able to forget why his arm was in a cast.

"I'll be honest with you kids." Mr Aizawa began, his still-bandaged hands resting on the podium as he looked over his class. "The fight isn't over yet." Izuku's gaze flicked to the fresh scar on his teacher's cheek as his classmates broke out into murmurs.

"With the insistence of outside parties, the school has chosen to go through with the sports festival next month." Mr Aizawa looked more tired than Izuku had ever seen him, a bone-deep weariness dragging him down.

"In preparation for it, you'll be offered two passes per student to visit the training gyms while a teacher is there. Otherwise, train during designated class time, and don't overdo it." He advised. "Now go get changed; we're drilling close combat." He ordered with finality, and the class scrambled.

Chapter Text

Lunch was a blessing after hand-to-hand drills, and Izuku finally found himself hungry enough to eat more than half his meal. He'd been avoiding comments about the USJ, and his friends seemed to have caught on, chatting about music.

"I don't know, I don't really have one. I'm kind of curious about metal, though." Izuku nearly snorted up his rice, frantically trying to choke down his giggles. "What? Why's that funny?" Hitoshi looked genuinely clueless, and it just made Izuku laugh harder.

"What? Midoriya, come on, why's it so funny?" Uraraka giggled, laughing mostly at Izuku's mirth.

"Fanboy." Izuku wheezed, and Hitoshi sputtered with confusion before the realisation hit. "You're such a fanboy." Uraraka snorted when Hitoshi went tomato-red, and Iida gave a good-natured chuckle.

"There's nothing wrong with exploring new things, even if the reasoning behind it is… reverential in nature." Iida encouraged, which only made Hitoshi bury his face in his palms and groan.

Izuku had just managed to feel normal when the school day ended. Reality crashed back into him in the form of Mr Aizawa asking him to stay behind, and Hitoshi waving goodbye to Izuku.

It wasn't too big of a deal. Izuku knew on some level that he, as a teenager, shouldn't be living alone, but it was hard to reconcile that with the fact that he'd been alone for over a year, and nothing had gone wrong. Izuku had been lonely, but that wasn't anything new.

He pushed down his racing thoughts, pulling his bag over his shoulder and following Mr Aizawa out of the class, to the parking garage. "What do you want for dinner?" Mr Aizawa asked flatly as Izuku shuffled into the car.

"Whatever is fine." Izuku murmured. Mr Aizawa turned in the passenger seat, meeting Izuku's eyes over the console. Izuku shrank down, ducking his head and looking away. "Um… Katsudon, please?" He tried, and Mr Aizawa nodded, sitting back down just as Mr Yamada opened the door.

"Ugh, I swear, some of my third years are trying so hard to use fancy words that the whole meaning just— Poof!" Mr Yamada sighed. "How was your day, kiddo?" He looked at Izuku through the rearview mirror.

"It was fine." He said softly, and Mr Yamada left it at that, tuning the radio to something with pop music as he started the car. The car was quiet for a few minutes.

"About your mother," Mr Aizawa began, making Izuku shoot up in his seat. "We can't arrest her unless she returns to Japan. I wish there was a neater resolution, but it's pretty clear that she won't come back." Mr Aizawa said frankly, to which Mr Yamada smacked his shoulder.

"Don't be a dick about it, Shou." Mr Yamada hissed, just a little too loud for Izuku to miss. It was startling enough to make him snort, and he chuckled a little when Mr Yamada sheepishly returned his hand to the wheel.

"You can't hit the guy who's still injured." Mr Aizawa sighed, but there was a hint of mirth in his tone. "I'm calling the cops." He grumbled, and Izuku laughed, even as he groaned. It was a new kind of amusement, equally funny and exasperating.

It was nice.

Izuku landed on the forest floor with a huff, looking back to see Hitoshi stumbling through the underbrush. "You'd be faster if you used the trees!" Izuku called, getting a run-up to a formidable oak and hauling himself onto a branch.

Hitoshi groaned, using his height to his advantage and scrambling onto a low branch. "You know, being mad would be a lot easier if you weren't right." He grumbled, launching to the next tree over and landing hard on his stomach.

Izuku bit back a snort and leapt across the path, scraping his hands as he slid to the base of the branch. He ignored it, regaining his balance and jumping to the next, ignoring the way his stomach jumped into his throat as he free-fell, landing on a thinner branch than expected.

Hitoshi shamelessly laughed as Izuku pinwheeled his arms to catch his balance. Izuku flipped him off as he caught himself, to which Hitoshi threw a twig his way.

Izuku flopped onto the couch with a sigh, catching his breath for a few minutes. He'd need to clean his scrapes, but he'd do that later. For the moment, Izuku stared blankly at his skinned knees, picking idly at the tree bark embedded in his skin.

"I thought you were going to hang out with Shinsou." Mr Aizawa remarked, scanning Izuku. "Not…" He trailed off, frowning slightly. "Whatever caused that." Izuku snorted.

"I did; we raced through that little forest park near my old house. I won, but Hitoshi gave me a run for my money once he got into the trees." Izuku admitted, and Mr Aizawa hummed.

"Go clean those before you get an infection." He murmured, turning back to his laptop as Izuku hauled himself up.

Mr Koketsu was out for the day, so Izuku begged permission to visit Hitoshi's flat— fortunately, Mr Koketsu didn't mind. Almost the instant Izuku set down his bag, he was lifted from behind. They devolved into a wrestling match pretty quickly, which Hitoshi won.

Izuku slapped the floor twice, lifting his face from the carpet with a dramatic gasp. Hitoshi snorted, and Izuku chuckled too, brushing his hair from his eyes. "Question." Hitoshi began as Izuku shuffled to sit.

"Do you have any idea why Todoroki follows you around?" Hitoshi asked, fixing his rumpled shirt. "At first I thought he was trying to make friends, but when Kaminari asked him, he got all…" Hitoshi waved his hand vaguely.

Izuku shrugged. "Honestly, I don't have a clue. He doesn't seem mean or anything, maybe he just likes that we're relatively quiet." Izuku sniffed, his smile turning sheepish. "At least when compared to the rest of our class."

Hitoshi shook his head. "Every time we pair off, he looks at you, not me or anyone else who's quiet. Was he like that before we had our class with All Might?" Izuku frowned, thinking back over the school year so far.

"I don't think so. But I didn't say anything to him, really. I remember he told me his plan, and I said it was fine, and that was kind of it." Izuku mused, shrugging. "Who knows? He's kind of a mystery all-around, right?"

Hitoshi glared down the students blocking the doorway, stepping in front of Izuku. "You are congesting the hallway! I must insist that you move along so that we and our fellow students may continue out of the building!" Iida declared.

"What are they even doing here?" Ashido whispered, to which Bakugou scoffed.

"They're scouting out the competition. Tough luck, nerds; glaring at us isn't gonna make us easier to beat!" Bakugou shouted, ignoring the outrage spilling from the students crowding the door as he stomped past, carelessly shouldering through the crowd.

Hitoshi watched as their curiosity turned hostile, sighing in frustration.

Chapter Text

Shouto thumbed through one of his textbooks, matching the contents with the syllabus as his mind raced. Such an innocuous interaction, but he just couldn't get it out of his head.

He'd been praised for his quirk since the day he was born— Shouto wished he were exaggerating. He was more than used to it by this point, he'd come to expect it, to brace for the inevitable wave of fury that washed over him every time.

But something about what Midoriya had said just stuck with him. He tossed the book aside, flopping back. It was clear that he wouldn't be getting anything done, anyway.

Shouto had described his plan without interruption, and Midoriya seemed on-board. "Oh, but Uraraka can float things, right? Maybe the centre would be best, so we can stall them no matter which way they come in?"

Shouto hummed, looking over the layout once more. "Okay. In that case, I'll set up on the third floor and box myself in. Neither of them have overpowering strength, so a thick enough layer of ice should stall them until time-out." He decided.

Midoriya helped him drag the faux weapon into the centre of the floor, as far from both sets of stairs as they could get. "Your quirk is so cool." Midoriya murmured, and Shouto bit down on his tongue.

"There's just so much you could do with it— you could make supports for collapsing buildings, or escape routes for evacuating civilians— You'd be amazing at rescue!" Midoriya was cut off as the warning timer rang, and he darted away, leaving Shouto alone with his thoughts.

Shouto remembered how, when he was little, he'd wanted nothing more than to save people. Rescue heroes saved people. They only saved people. Rescue heroes didn't look at someone's criminal record and decide whether they were worth brutally injuring.

They just found people, saved them, and left. Shouto couldn't stop thinking about it.

An obstacle course. The first challenge was an obstacle course. Izuku shared a wild grin with Hitoshi as the countdown began.

The race opened with a wave of ice, and Izuku used his fellow competitors as stepping stones, bursting through the doorway and onto the track, yelping when his claw snapped off in his shoe.

Izuku pushed past the pain, dodging around other racers and watching with awe as ice flooded the track, immobilising at least half of the robots and propelling Todoroki further down the course.

The cold wasn't unbearable, so Izuku ignored it, using the frozen bots as a parkour track all the way to The Fall. He used Todoroki's rope, the ice stabilising it enough for him to run at full speed across the gaps.

Todoroki either didn't notice, or didn't care, that his competitors were using his quirk to their advantage, only pressing forward like some kind of juggernaut. Izuku shook his head, forcing himself to zone back in as he approached the minefield.

When Izuku used the cat— or any quadruped, for that matter— he always ended up with the urge to walk on his toes and fingertips. It wasn't particularly helpful or unhelpful, just another change, until now. Izuku felt a Cheshire grin splitting his cheeks as he leapt forward, breaking out into a dead sprint.

He was already fast on his feet without his quirk. But on all-fours with an animal that relied on speed? Izuku was a monster. He probably looked insane, but he wasn't sure he cared. Sure, this was a festival, but it wasn't just a game.

Izuku knew better. This was his first chance to showcase his skills to people who relied on heroes for their safety. Heroes who needed to know that their youngest peers would be able to hold their own.

It was terrifying, but it was thrilling.

Izuku was so focused on running, on moving as fast as he could without touching any landmines, that he didn't notice when he pulled into first place, the haze only lifting when he crossed through the tunnel into the stadium.

Izuku watched back the footage from the race, how Katsuki caught up to Todoroki, and they began to tussle, leaving Izuku time to blaze past them. The thing that caught his attention wasn't his own speed— He'd run the numbers so many times that he could recite them in his sleep— but Todoroki.

When Izuku pulled ahead, Katsuki noticed. But when he blasted forth to blow Izuku to bits, Todoroki didn't join him, or even pass him while he was distracted. Instead, he immobilised Katsuki, long enough for Izuku to pass the finish line.

When Katsuki broke free, Todoroki had already passed him by a large margin, and Katsuki was left to take third place.

Izuku wasn't sure what to make of it all.

Hitoshi found Izuku in the nurses' office after the race, icing his foot. It wouldn't have been that bad if Izuku had just torn his claw, but since he kept running on it for the whole race, the nail had tangled in his sock, tearing clean off at some point.

"Seriously?" Hitoshi drawled, landing beside Izuku on the cot. "It was the first round, how did you get hurt already?"

Shouta answered his phone between rounds, Recovery Girl's familiar voice cracking through the old speaker. "Midoriya was injured." She informed, and Shouta sighed.

"Seriously?" He drawled, rubbing his eyes. "It was the first round, how did he get hurt already?"

"His regular gym shoes aren't designed with his quirk in mind. He grows claws when he uses it, and claws don't do well in trainers. It's not serious, but there are a lot of sensitive nerves under the nails, so it'll be rather tender."

Shouta relaxed, leaning back against the wall. "If it's not serious, why are you calling me?" He grumbled.

Recovery Girl scoffed, and Shouta grimaced. "It's school policy to inform guardians of any injuries that aren't fully healed on school grounds." She reminded.

Right. Shouta was going to have to get used to that, wasn't he?

Izuku stiffened as what felt like an infinite amount of eyes turned to him. Ten million points was absolutely insane, and he kind of wished he'd been a little slower in the first round.

Hitoshi steered him away from the crowd without preamble, and Izuku was about to talk strategy when another voice cut him off.

"I'd like to join your team."

Chapter Text

Hitoshi was sent reeling when Todoroki just… inserted himself into the situation. He had honestly been expecting the other boy to slack off during the festival, considering his inherent advantage, but Izuku didn't seem to mind.

So he just rolled with it.

It was surprisingly easy to fit Todoroki into their group; he was a similar height to Hitoshi, so they ended up being the flanks while Midoriya begged Iida to be the front horse— at first he was hesitant to team up with a friend— until he caved.

It all went by really fast, and suddenly the whole field was covered in scattered teams, and Midnight was cracking her whip, and— Iida was off like a shot, dragging the rest of them along with.

Between them all, the team was built for defence and evasion. Iida steered them away from danger as Todoroki immobilised it. If both were to fail, Hitoshi was the third line of defence, turning teammates against each other long enough for Iida and Todoroki to do their part.

The only player to get past all three of them was Bakugo, who crashed down from the sky like a bomb onto Izuku, who reared back to slap him. There was a breath of silence, of 'is he really going to...?' before a clap rang out across the arena, sending Bakugo toppling aside, four lines of blood streaked across his cheek.

Hitoshi wasn't sure what sound came from Bakugo at that— if he had to describe it, he'd call it an enraged squawk— but it was cut off when Sero reeled him back to his team, trembling like a furious little dog.

"Oh god, I just hit Kacchan." Izuku wheezed, sounding at once delighted and horrified.

"Slapped, more like." Todoroki huffed, barely audible over the sounds of the festival, but making Hitoshi snort all the same. And then they were defending against Bakugo again, and the conversation was over.

By the time the round ended, their entire team was worn out. Once Izuku was safely on the ground, Hitoshi sank down and laid down, his muscles burning. "That was awful. Why did I let you talk me into that?" Hitoshi wheezed.

"We won, didn't we?" Todoroki drawled, looking completely unbothered and put-together, the bitch. At least Iida looked appropriately pained, rolling his shoulder with a wince.

Hitoshi didn't envy him; Iida was bearing the brunt of Izuku's weight while he whirled around in ways that tempted fate, not to mention the weight of Bakugo Shithead Katsuki fully landing on their team at least three times.

Lunch was a welcome break, and Izuku was eager to get off of the field and eat— something with sashimi sounded particularly tempting with the cat still at his side— when Todorki quietly pulled him aside.

Izuku gave Hitoshi a thumbs up as he left, and followed Todoroki down the halls until they were far away from most of the other students. "Is everything alright?" Izuku hesitantly prodded once they stopped.

"I'm not sure." Todoroki said simply, leaning back against the wall. "I just… Wanted to talk with you about something." He went silent, and Izuku waited for him to continue, but he didn't say another word.

"Okay… What did you want to talk about, then?"

Todoroki took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. "When we first properly spoke. Before the battle trials… You said something that stuck with me." He began, his brows furrowing slightly. "You said my quirk was cool— but you didn't say anything about fighting."

Izuku thought back on the conversation in question, nodding hesitantly. "Yeah, I guess…" Izuku murmured.

"I respect you, Midoriya. You're well-rounded and skilled, but you don't let it get to your head." Todoroki looked down, thumbing at his left palm. "So I wanted to ask; do you think I should be a combat hero?"

Izuku blinked, rolling the thought around in his head. It almost felt like a trap— like there was no right answer to the question. He knew Todoroki would make an effective combat hero, but in Izuku's mind, it wasn't his best option.

"Well… I mean, I wouldn't know better than our teachers— and you should definitely ask them if you haven't already— but… I guess I do have a couple of ideas." Izuku admitted, wringing his hands. "If you want to be a combat hero, you definitely could! You'd be great at it, really…" Izuku bit his lip, trailing off.

"But?" Todoroki urged.

"I just think you could be better suited to something more support focused. You can manipulate the terrain of the battlefield, like Cementoss or Pixie Bob— and that's without even mentioning rescue!" Izuku blurted, hand sliding up to cover his lower lip.

"Extreme heat and cold are both very dangerous, and they're so often either the basis or cause of disasters— house fires, snowstorms, volcano eruptions— all sorts of things that could be mitigated if not completely stopped with your quirk!"

"There are already a few fire or water based rescue heroes— think Backdraft or Liftoff— but it's an ever-expanding field, one that I think you could really excel in! Already, you have the disposition to calm down the people around you just by being someone who's confident and unafraid— and when it comes to combat…"

Izuku bit his lip, glancing up to meet Todoroki's. His brow was furrowed with consideration, his intense gaze pinned on Izuku. Todoroki was a pretty level-headed guy, so he probably wouldn't attack Izuku for this— and worse comes to worst, Izuku already had the cat at his side, so…

Izuku took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. "Well, there are a lot of combat heroes out there; arguably more than we need, and… You're really strong, Todoroki. So strong, that being a combat hero would be dangerous. More for the people around you than it would be for you."

With that, the hall was silent. Todoroki lowered his gaze, staring down at his hands for a few, long seconds. Then he nodded slightly, as if to himself, kicking off of the wall and just… Walking away, without another word.

Izuku deserved sashimi right about then. 

Chapter Text

Izuku stood by Hitoshi, biting his lip as the speakers boomed with Present Mic's voice. "And now, for the battle royale! It's a series of one-on-one matches with randomised pairings in a tournament-style battle for the gold!"

"And the match-ups are…" Izuku tensed as contestant's names flickered on and off the screen, a low rumble of anxiety crawling up his throat. Hitoshi placed one hand on Izuku's shoulder, squeezing gently despite the stiffness in his shoulders.

"On your screen, now!" Present Mic cheered, and Izuku let out an involuntary groan.

"Well, someone had to go first. I didn't see too much of that guy last round, I wonder what he'll be like in a fight." Hitoshi mused, walking with Izuku to the locker rooms.

"This could be really bad." Izuku murmured, trying to think back over the cavalry battle, unable to remember his opponent's quirk.

"It's the overall champion with the catlike grace, Midoriya Izuku!" Cheers rang out as Midoriya walked out onto the field, his eyes sharply locked on his opponent, even as he hung back in the shadow of the archway. "Versus, the boy who copies better than a cat, it's Monoma Neito!"

Neito stepped out onto the field, a smirk gracing his lips as he approached his unnerving opponent, meeting his intense gaze. "Say, Midoriya, I recognise that name! Weren't you the one who died when the school was attacked?" He crowed.

Neito knew it was a low blow, but he barely had two minutes with the quirk he'd copied off of that brash redhead; he needed every advantage he could get. Green eyes narrowed, slit pupils dilating until they were pools of black, nearly overtaking the green. "I was. But I was already dead, anyway. Still am, actually, so it's nothing remarkable."

Neito's grin sharpened, tension shooting up his stance as Midoriya dropped all pretence of bipedalism, dropping to his fingertips and tilting his head eerily. This might be harder than he'd hoped. "And, start!"

Neito activated the quirk as soon as Midoriya got in range, and he was glad for it when claw-tipped, bluish fingers raked across his chest, shredding through his P.E. uniform. He lashed out with a punch, but Midoriya had ducked under it before Neito could react, leaping out and grabbing him around the torso.

Neito wheezed as his back hit concrete, awkwardly trying to punch at Midoriya's exposed back with hardened fists. Then a sharp pain shot out from his side, and his skin there hardened instinctively, leaving his fist as soft and fleshy as any other.

He still slammed his knuckles into Midoriya's back, yelping when he felt an awful pop radiate from his fingers. Neito rolled them over, trying to get the upper hand, but somehow Midoriya contorted to jam his feet against Neito's belly and kicked, sending him tumbling halfway across the arena and punching the breath from his lungs.

Neito scrambled to sit up, but an ear-piercing yowl rang out before he could stand, and he raised his hardened forearms to cover his face as he was tackled once more, claws raking against his scalp and yanking at his hair— Neito is not ashamed to admit that his tender-headed self screeched like a banshee at that— as a fist mercilessly flew into his gut.

Less than a minute left, now. He tried to copy Midoriya's quirk, but his attempt to use it sputtered out painfully, blood leaking from his nose as he shoved at Midoriya, trying to get his bearings.

His chest hurt so badly, and he could see red pooling in his vision like tears, blurring Midoriya's concerned face as he stumbled back, hands gripping his head. The world tilted, and Neito heard a deep chuckle as a hand pressed to his forehead.

"αω, уσυ ℓσσк נυѕт ℓιкє му ℓιттℓє вσу. ∂ση'т ωσяяу, кι∂∂σ, нє'ℓℓ тαкє ¢αяє σƒ уσυ."

And the world went dark.

Izuku rushed to catch Monoma, carefully lowering him down onto the concrete as blood oozed from every orifice in his face, dribbling down his cheeks and chin. He checked his head for bumps, but found no signs of injury— other than the scratches.

"Monoma is unable to continue! Midoriya wins!" Midnight shouted, but Izuku brushed it off, hefting Monoma onto the stretcher that rolled into view.

"Monoma has a powerful quirk, but it's a definite wild-card. In some cases, it's not worth the risk of copying a quirk unless he knows it won't hurt him to use it. Since Midoriya stockpiles power, Monoma tried to use his quirk without energy, and like trying to start a car with nothing in the gas tank; he sputtered out."

"Talk about risk and reward! If it had worked, he might have evened out the playing field, but instead he self-destructed! Let's give him a cheer for a quick recovery, folks!"

"You alright?" Hitoshi asked as they walked back to their section. Izuku shrugged, finally letting the cat fall away for a little while. He felt kind of sick; unable to get the smell of blood off of his mind.

"I didn't know my quirk could do that. I've never tried to use it without any souls stored; I just thought it would do nothing." Izuku admitted quietly, a chill shooting up his spine at the thought of being in that sort of state; being completely alone, without a single soul nestled beside his own. It was disquieting.

"Yeah, that was… Pretty intense. I think they're gonna have to up the rating on the live program, now." Hitoshi remarked, rubbing the back of his neck. "But you made it to the second round. That's good, right?" Izuku shuffled into a seat, scooting to make room for Hitoshi.

"Is it good? Monoma nearly killed himself on live television, because of me. I… I don't think I can count that as good in any context." Izuku admitted, hugging himself. "I don't know if I should even move on." Hitoshi hummed, sliding his arm around Izuku's shoulders and pulling him closer, gently rubbing his shoulder.

"Well, if I were Monoma, and you pulled out of the fight, I'd be pretty pissed. All of that work to get past me, and you just give up? I'd try to wring your neck for it." Hitoshi joked lightly, squeezing Izuku's arm. "But I'd get over it. Especially if you did it because of how you felt, instead of assuming how I felt about it all."

Izuku leaned his head against Hitoshi's shoulder, burying his face in the fabric of his gym uniform. "Maybe. I don't know. Nobody else in the festival has a copy quirk, so if I move on, this won't happen again, but… What if I hurt someone anyway?"

"It's a tournament. Everyone is hurting someone; it's part of the point. Plus, we've got those doctor robots and Recovery Girl all lined up, just itching to patch someone up. Wouldn't want to let them down, right?" Hitoshi joked, and Izuku snorted softly.

"I think Recovery Girl would be more disappointed if I did give her people to patch up, but I appreciate your optimism." Izuku mumbled, turning to look out over the field.

"It's Speed Demon Jr, Jr, Jr; Iida Tenya! Versus, little miss bubbly and sugar-sweet; Uraraka Ochako!"

Chapter Text

Tenya stood across from Uraraka, his shoulders stiff as he lowered himself into a ready stance. She dropped, her hands cupped and fingers splayed out, ready to strike. "And, start!" Tenya kicked into first gear, sprinting around the Uraraka's back to try and grab her up, ducking when she swiped at him.

He was admittedly not well versed in her fighting style yet, but she was not to be underestimated. Tenya kicked into second gear and tried to loop behind her again, bending backward sharply to dodge her next swipe.

They convolved around the arena, Tenya running circles around Uraraka, but unable to get a hold of her without being tagged by her dangerous fingertips. She occasionally lunged, forcing him to skid and backtrack, but overall seemed content to remain stationary.

Tenya paused, catching his breath, and Uraraka smiled sweetly at him. Tenya shivered as he got the distinct feeling that he was being toyed with.

"Iida Tenya is out of bounds; Uraraka wins!" Midnight shouted as Uraraka reached to grab Tenya by the leg and tug him back down to earth before releasing her quirk.

"Congratulations, Uraraka! That was a very difficult fight." Tenya bowed stiffly, and she giggled, but bowed in return. "I hate to lose so early, but I'm glad I lost to someone whom I know without doubt is stiff competition."

Uraraka grinned brightly as she walked him off of the field. "Aw, thanks, Iida! You're tough, too, you know; you almost got me there! If you hadn't fallen for the bait, I probably would have lost to you." She admitted, and Tenya shook his head.

"Do not downplay your success, Uraraka; you did very well, and I'm looking forward to seeing you move on in the tournament!" Tenya smiled, feeling a bubbly lightness in his chest when Uraraka shot him another bright smile.

It seemed she just had that effect on people.

"It's the Ice Prince who's been targeting the top; Todoroki Shouto! Versus, the champion of breath-holding competitions; Tsubaraba Kosei!"

"Tsubaraba is unable to continue; Todoroki wins!"

Hitoshi paced in the locker room, running over every interaction he'd ever seen Sero have; he wasn't quiet, by any means, but he was far more of a wallflower than his friends, and he knew about Hitoshi's quirk. This would be a tough match to win, if Hitoshi could even pull it off.

"It's the insouciant ninja of 1A; Shinsou Hitoshi!" Hitoshi strode onto the field, approaching the arena with trepidation. "Versus, 1A's phlegmatic capture specialist; Sero Hanta!"

"Is that a goddamn thesaurus."

"Instigating versus taciturn! Their quirks may not clash, but their personalities sure might!" Hitoshi bit back a stressed laugh, cracking his knuckles. The loud sound echoed enough for Sero to hear it and grimace, looking unsettled.

Hm.

"And begin!" Hitoshi darted to the side, avoiding Sero's first shot of tape, trying to get in closer. "Hey, Sero; you're friends with Bakugou, huh?" He jeered, ducking under another shot and advancing further.

Sero was silent, but he looked bemused. Hitoshi grabbed a strip of tape and yanked on it, pulling Sero forward. "He's kind of a dick, you know?" Hitoshi griped as Sero cut off the line of tape. Hitoshi bit it to tug it off of his hand, the adhesive sliding off of his wet teeth.

Sero was silent. Hitoshi got closer, cursing when a bit of tape got stuck in his hair. "Seriously, he's a total douche! And don't get me started on Kaminari and Kirishima; I've never met a more annoying pair of people in my life."

Hitoshi couldn't make a step without walking on tape. That was fine, he was almost close enough. He popped his wrists, just to see Sero flinch. "Not that you care. You put on a good show, with the whole laid-back persona, but you don't really care about anything, do you?"

Sero narrowed his eyes as he yanked the line of tape, drawing Hitoshi into range. He jumped at Sero, grabbing one arm with both hands and kicking at Sero's gut. "No, you just sit to the side and fake a smile; pretend you're such a nice guy. Hang around Kirishima and Kaminari, so people think of you as being like them. But you're not, are you?"

Sero tanked the hit, wheezing as he used his free arm to ensnare Hitoshi, who jumped to tackle Sero down onto the concrete. They grappled for a minute, Sero gritting his teeth through Hitoshi's ongoing taunts, until finally one of them slipped up.

"You really think you're gonna be some big shot hero when you can't even be bothered to care about your own damn classmates?" Hitoshi spat, and Sero's face lit up with rage. He slammed his elbow into Hitoshi's face— which, fucking ow— and finally got his tape wrapped securely around Hitoshi, flipping him over and pinning him to the ground, knee pressed painfully between his shoulder blades.

"Damn." Hitoshi sighed, wiggling fruitlessly.

"It's 1A's hard-headed, red-headed manly man; Kirishima Ejirou! Versus, 1B's very own student shadow, Kuroiro!"

"Kuroriro is unable to continue; Kirishima wins!"

Hitoshi leaned against his palm as Izuku murmured.

"This is so interesting; Tetsutetsu's quirk is either wholly susceptible, or completely immune to electricity, so—" Izuku paused as the field lit up with electricity for one intense moment.

Then, Tetsutetsu began to steer the dazed blond out of bounds, unaffected. "Well, his heart didn't stop, and he didn't seize or completely stiffen up, which means that his muscles and organs must also become steel when he uses his quirk, not just his skin—"

"Tokoyami and Ashido both rely pretty heavily on mobility, but in such different ways that it's hard to predict which will win without knowing more about Acid or Dark Shadow—"

"Ashido is out of bounds; Tokoyami wins!"

"It's our hotheaded and raging runner-up; Bakugou Katsuki! Versus, her classmates call her 'God'; it's Yaoyorozu Momo!"

"So, who's winning this one?" Hitoshi asked casually. Izuku hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

"Well, Yaoyorozu is a very dangerous opponent, and she's had this whole time to strategize, but on the other hand; Kacchan is very fast, and a lot more ruthless than Yaoyorozu. It's hard to say, and I wouldn't put any money on it, but… Maybe Yaoyorozu?" Izuku decided, hesitation in his tone.

"Yaoyorozu is out of bounds; Bakugou wins!"

"We'll be taking a short break before round two, but stay tuned for the games in-between!"

Izuku sighed softly, tapping his feet together as he waited in the locker room to be called out to fight again. Uraraka would be a tough opponent, and Izuku wasn't sure who to call on for her. The flexibility and reaction time of the cat would lend well to dodging, but that would end up tiring him out, just like Iida.

Of course, the dog was both stronger and had more endurance, but Izuku had a much harder time keeping his balance with it; and a stumble at the wrong time could completely wreck the fight. He bit his lip, tapping at his chin as he filtered through the souls in his chest.

The deer had barely a half-hour left, and wasn't useful here, besides… the little black bird he'd collected had a fair amount of time, but Izuku had no idea of its abilities or weaknesses.

Eventually, he settled on the cat, hoping that his stamina training had paid off.

Izuku yelped as Uraraka's hand wrapped around his bicep, and he grabbed onto her by the shirt collar, tugging himself close to sock her in the nose. He grimaced at the feeling of her nose popping out of place beneath his knuckles, but he kept his grip true, even as she flailed to send him into the air.

He gripped onto her back like a cat clawing out of a bath, a low growl emerging from his lips as he used her like a jungle gym, pulling her feet out from under her and catching her in a headlock on the way down. After 10 seconds, she tapped out, and the fight was called.

"Uraraka surrenders; Midoriya wins!"

"He's cold, he calculating, he's Todoroki Shouto! Versus, cool and collected in the face of fear, it's Sero Hanta!"

"Nice try," Denki remarked when Sero returned to the stands, earning a smack on the back of his head.

Denki wheezed, slapping his knee as Kirishima met Tetsutetsu blow-for-blow, their fists colliding at every turn until they headbutted each other into a tie. "Oh man— I can't wait to download that footage!" He managed, wiping faux tears from his eyes.

Denki jumped at every blast as Bakugou advanced on Tokoyami— Now, Denki loved Bakugou, but he was itching for an underdog win, and Tokoyami was actually pretty chill! Which was why, when Bakugou pinned the bird-headed boy with his deadly palm against feathers, Denki pouted a little. Just a little!

Shouto followed after Midoriya as he paced frantically, unhurriedly trailing behind him until they were alone again, far from the competition. "You know," Midoriya said as he turned to face Shouto. "If you keep following me around, Hitoshi might think you're stalking me."

Shouto blinked. "I'm not too worried about him. The worst he'll do is make me report myself to a teacher, I'm sure." He intoned, and Midoriya chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

"I don't know, he might film you doing something embarrassing, too, just to really get the point across." Midoriya joked, his voice hesitant. Shouto shrugged.

"Midoriya, I… I find you very easy to talk to." Shouto admitted, leaning back against the wall of the hallway. "You have very… very interesting opinions that make me think outside of the box. So I wanted to ask…"

Midoriya perked up, reminding Shouto of a cat hearing a mouse. "What do you know about quirk marriages?"

Midoriya paled considerably, glancing away. "Oh. Not… not that much; just… it's like showdog breeding, but with people and quirks, right? It's… definitely illegal." He said slowly, wringing his hands.

"It is a lot like animal breeding; where you pick and choose desireable traits and pair them off to have desireable children. And it is illegal." Shouto confirmed, brushing his hair from his eyes. Midoriya looked hopeful and resigned at the same time.

"My father bought my mother for her quirk." Shouto blurted, watching Midoriya carefully. The green-haired boy looked sick, covering his mouth and closeing his eyes for a few seconds, gathering his composure. When they opened again, they looked at Shouto with a different light— though he couldn't tell what it was.

Midoriya stayed silent, so Shouto kept talking, almost rambling to fill the silence— that wasn't something he'd ever done before, but then, he'd never wanted to be friends with someone quite so badly before.

"My quirk came in when I was four, and he trained me from the day it manifested. He's… working off of this insane goal to be better than All Might, and when he figured out that he couldn't do it in his own lifetime, he decided that his children would do it for him."

"My mother tried to protect me from him. And he beat her for it. After a year of it, she was… on the brink. I heard her in the kitchen, speaking with my grandmother— whom I've never met. She sounded so stressed and scared. She said… that my left side was unbearable to look at."

Midoriya hissed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Shouto waited until Midoriya opened his eyes to continue. "When she turned around, and saw me peeking around the doorway, my left side the only one in view…" Shouto pressed his fingertips to the wrinkled scar on his face.

"The kettle was boiling, when she threw it." He said softly, jumping when Midoriya let out a single sob. He looked up, locking eyes with Midoriya's lifeless gaze for a few seconds before he was being swept into… a hug.

Shouto went stiff for a moment, and slowly set his hand on Midoriya's back. "I can't bring myself to use his fire. I won't do it, Midoriya. I won't be a combat hero, and I won't use his fire; I'll be better than him, but I'll never be number one. I won't do it."

Izuku rinsed his teary face with cold water, staring into his own dead eyes in the mirror. It would be okay. Corpses didn't have feelings anyway. He was dead. Nothing could hurt him. The speakers in the hallway echoed with Midnight's voice.

"Kirishima wins the tiebreaker!"

"It's the semi-finals, folks, and we're coming up on a doozy! It's the sly, nimble powerhouse; Midoriya Izuku! Versus, he's freezing through the competition at an alarming rate; Todoroki Shouto!"

Chapter Text

"Fight!"

Izuku leapt forward, barely outpacing the glacier that formed from Todoroki's fingertips. Izuku was up in the air almost as soon as he hit the ground again, leaping between spires of ice to avoid being engulfed within them as they crystallised.

Kicking off of a spiky formation, Izuku pounced, barely skidding out of the way when Todoroki retaliated with yet more ice, blocking Izuku off. He scored the relatively thin ice with his claws before elbowing it with his whole weight. It creaked menacingly, and Izuku felt his lips curl into a snarling grin.

With two more strikes, Izuku was freed from the little cage Todoroki had enclosed him, and he stepped out onto the field of ice— he couldn't even see the arena's border through the cloudy terrain— and examined Todoroki, his eyes narrowing.

The world grew brighter around him, sharper, as he took in the state of his opponent. Todoroki stood before a wall of ice that protected his back, shivering with each foggy breath. His skin was draped in a layer of delicate frost, creeping from the cold side of his body to melt as soon as it formed on his left.

"You're cold, aren't you?" Izuku asked rhetorically, slinking around Todoroki, circling him like a predator. "It's pretty chilly, I'll admit; but I don't get colder when I use my quirk." He gritted, his claws itching with anticipation as Todoroki frowned.

"I'm going to be better than him." Todoroki murmured, almost to himself. Izuku opened his mouth to speak, but something caught in his throat— words that weren't his own— and it made him stumble. It was enough for Todoroki, and all Izuku knew was cold.

Izuku felt it in his chest then, a bloom of warmth that begged to become an inferno, begged to be released into the world, to be real. Later on, Izuku would learn that it was his quirk that pulsed and thrashed and slammed at the inside of his ribcage like a prisoner in a cell.

But for the moment, it burned. The cold ate at his flesh, paradoxically burning him within a coffin of ice. Was there a point to cremating someone in a coffin? Izuku's head hurt, his skull feeling strangely flexible, like it was made of elastic that pressed in around his sensitive brain, squeezing out all of his stray thoughts.

Todoroki was hurting. He wasn't injured heavily, but he was hurting so badly— Izuku could hear it in the way he wailed. Like a keening banshee, his voice was dipped in sorrow, a sort of anguish that Izuku knew all too well.

Quirks changed people. They changed how people were raised, and seen, and how they thought about themselves. But it wasn't just that. Technically, every quirk had mental aspects, they changed what people feared, and what they were drawn to; they changed all sorts of things to help the brain cope with the quirk.

It wasn't until Izuku opened his eyes to nothingness that it occurred to him that Reap was no exception.

No darkness. No light. Just… Nothing. He tried to squint, but he wasn't sure he even had eyes. Or anything. Someone was thanking him. Izuku knew his name, and yet he'd never met the man before. He was grateful to Izuku, for freeing him from— from his corpse.

A man who was hurt, and betrayed. A brother, and a friend, and a lover, but a father, above all— someone who knew the world outside this nothing, who felt Izuku calling for something he couldn't know. Someone who hated what his body had become, who was aching, begging to right his wrongs— someone who lost everything to a monster in human skin.

Izuku had never met Hamaguchi Yuudai. But he knew him, in the same way he knew every soul he cradled in his ribcage, every dead thing he kept and held so gently. Yuudai wanted a lot of things. He wanted to not have died, he wanted his son to be alive again, he wanted revenge on the people who had hurt him, and above all, he wanted to atone.

Izuku would never meet Yuudai. But he knew him. So, when Yuudai clawed at the nothingness, pleading for a chance to do something good, for once— Izuku let him. He let the nothingness bleed back into somethingness, and opened his eyes.

It wasn't until everything returned to clarity that Izuku realised how hazy it all had got during the fight. His nails weren't claws any more, but he felt so much more aware. "Midoriya, be honest: can you still fight?" Midnight shouted.

Izuku tasted blood when he grinned at Todoroki— it must have been visible, too, since he looked unsettled— without even looking at Midnight. "Yes." He spat, a soft popping sound emenating from his chest. Todoroki paled, taking a step back as light formed beneath the ice, doubling Izuku's form before sloughing off of him and making a break for Todoroki.

Shouto heaved a sigh of relief when Midoriya finally stood still long enough to encase— it wasn't that Todoroki couldn't hit moving targets, it was just that Midoriya moved so unpredictably— in ice, and end the fight. Midoriya hung limply in the ice for one, long moment.

Midnight asked if Shouto's opponent could fight, yet again, but this time… Midoriya looked up at Shouto. His nose was bleeding somehow, and he grinned, blood pooling between his teeth even as his eyes returned to their defult state of distant, but round pupils. And then Shouto felt it.

There was pressure, when Midoriya used his quirk. The whole class was rather used to that by now, but this? This was different, in a way that was sickeningly familiar. The air tasted like blood and concrete and chlorine, and for an instant, Shouto was back in the USJ, watching Shinsou frantically revive Midoriya as the green-haired boy's quirk went haywire.

Shouto would like a refund on his order of one friendthing— it seemed like he been mistakenly sent a fucking maniac instead. Light pulled out of Midoriya— far less than at the USJ, thank everything that was holy— and lunged at him.

Shouto sent out more ice on instinct, choking back the sobbing shivers as he did, but the light… It didn't go through the ice, exactly; but it didn't go around it either. Regardless, it was stil charging, and Shouto had nothing to do but duck under it.

"ωнαт αяє уσυ ρяσνιηg тнιѕ ωαу, нυн?" Someone said— it wasn't Midoriya, for all that they shared his voice, it wasn't him. "уσυ'яє тяуιηg тσ ρяσνє тнαт уσυ ∂ση'т ηєє∂, ωнαт, уσυя σωη ∂αмη gєηєтι¢ѕ?"

"I'm going to be better." Shouto repeated, shivering yet more.

"уσυ ¢αη'т ¢нαηgє ωнєяє уσυ ¢αмє ƒяσм, ∂αмη ιт! ℓσя∂ кησωѕ ι'νє тяιє∂— all you can do is take the tools you have and use them!" Someone said— though Midoriya started speaking halfway through. 

Shouto nearly slipped on his own ice in his haste to dodge a grapple.

"тнαт αѕѕнσℓє ¢αη'т ¢σηтяσℓ уσυ, кι∂. ∂ση'т ℓєт нιм тαкє αηутнιηg єℓѕє αωαу ƒяσм уσυ!— your fire doesn't have to be anger like his, Todoroki! You don't have to be angry like him."

Shouto felt sick.

"уσυ кησω уσυ αяєη'т נυѕт ωнαт нαρρєηѕ ωнєη уσυ ρυт уσυя ραяєηтѕ тσgєтнєя, яιgнт? 'уσυ'яє мσяє тнαη тнє ѕυм σƒ уσυя ραятѕ', ιѕ нσω му ѕιѕтєя ρυт ιт. уєαн, ѕσмє σƒ нιѕ вℓσσ∂ ιѕ ιη уσυя νєιηѕ, αη∂ ѕσмє σƒ уσυя мσтнєяѕ, тσσ— but most of that blood is yours! Your blood in your veins, not his!"

It was frustrating, and scary, but once Shouto's fire— only Shouto's, no one else's— began to lick up his arm, it was so freeing.

Izuku woke up in the infirmary. He could feel his heartbeat in his chest— heart palpitations, then. His eyes dragged open, and he tilted to face the sound of voices. Todoroki was there, being scolded by Recovery Girl. He looked… pensive. As well as thouroughly berated.

Izuku hummed, slowly sitting up, and Todoroki stiffened, which made Recovery Girl turn to look at him. "And you! Don't even get me started on you; what were you thinking, using your quirk like that when you were already frozen? You're lucky you didn't go into cardiac arrest, again!"

Izuku smiled sheepishly at Todoroki, who hesitantly smiled back. Then, he turned to Recovery Girl, who continued to scold him. "I didn't do it on purpose, I think." Izuku admitted.

"You think. He didn't do it on purpose, he thinks! Well, it's a miracle you can still use that brain of yours, when you clearly weren't, earlier!" She huffed. "I give you about one minute before your little bodyguard gets here to give you another earful— and then maybe twenty before Aizawa comes to do the same, so I'll lay off, for now. But next time, you'll get the whole lecture; mark my words!"

Recovery Girl puttered off into a side room, grumbling under her breath. "Shout if you need me; I need to start filing the paperwork or all of these visits today." She ordered, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Todoroki hummed softly, stepping closer and sitting down on Recovery Girl's swivel chair. "You were out for a while. I'm sorry for going so far," He intoned, his gaze intense as he stared down at the floor tiles. Izuku softened, scooting to lean back against the headboard.

"I'm not—" Izuku was cut off by the door being flung open, a harried Hitoshi rushing Izuku and diving into his arms, shoving his ear against Izuku's chest as he gripped him like a lifeline. Izuku flinched at first, but quickly relaxed, his hands settling around Hitoshi's shoulders.

Right; the last time anything like that had happened… Hitoshi had been there. "I'm okay," Izuku promised in a hurried whisper. "I'm okay, I'm alive, my heart is fine." Todoroki was gone by the time Izuku thought to check.