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Yuuei’s First Quirkless Student?!
Midoriya Izuku—How Does He Have a Quirk?
Former Classmate Tells All—“He was always weird, always muttering…”
BREAKING NEWS: ONE OF YUUEI’S STUDENTS WORKING WITH SCOURGE OF KAMINO???
Aldera Middle School Teacher Claims Yuuei Student Midoriya Izuku Was “Terrible Student”—“Constantly fighting those with Quirks…not surprised if he did something suspicious…”
Midoriya was quiet, and everyone was looking at him.
Ochako knew because she was looking at him, too. The only person who wasn’t was Bakugou, who had stolen the seat closest to Midoriya and was scowling around at anyone who got too close. It was like he was daring them to say something. No one was, though. No one would dare to say anything. Even Mineta, who would normally have bitched about Quirkless people by then (he’d been doing it incessantly when they were discussing Quirkless people), or Shinsou, who hated Midoriya (and who had only been allowed into Class A because Mineta was on probation after his remarks), were being quiet. They were sitting there, quietly. Sure, they were all looking at him, but—
Bakugou whacked Midoriya upside the back of the head, signing something when Midoriya looked at him. Signing something back—Ochako didn’t know what he was saying, that didn’t look like JSL—Midoriya turned away. With a sigh through his nose, Bakugou pulled something from his backpack. It was a stack of papers. He slapped it down on the desk in front of Midoriya, shoved a pen into his hand, and then turned away. Red eyes scanned over everyone, brows furrowing as he scowled at them all. Most of them—Ojiro, Tooru, Kaminari, Mineta, Shinsou, even Tokoyami and Shoji among them—turned away. Mina tipped her head to the side, frowning worriedly. Kirishima held Bakugou’s gaze, and Bakugou looked away first. When Bakugou turned to her, Ochako held his gaze.
Bakugou kept staring at her. With a quick glance around, making sure no one was watching them now—everyone had looked away—Ochako raised her hands. “Is he okay?” She asked with careful gestures.
Looking back at her, Bakugou hesitated. Something seemed to process in his mind. Then, he raised his hands. In sharp contrast to his spoken word, his signed words were elegant, smooth, “He’ll be fine. It’s none of your business,” he then added something that was probably her name. It was the same sign as “pretty”, with a “U” instead of the typical sign shape. Her name, she realized. Crossing her arms, she continued to look at him.
How do I get them to listen to me? She wondered. Then, she sighed. Normally, she wouldn’t do this. Normally, she would ask first. But this wasn’t normal, so…
Fuck it.
“Meet me outside the dorms after class tomorrow. With Midoriya.” She fingerspelled his name.
“Why?”
“You trust me.” She fired back, not a statement but a demand. “Show up tomorrow. Both of you.”
With a shake of his head, he replied, “I’ll talk to Izuku,” (she frowned at the name, it was the sign for crybaby), “but I can’t guarantee he’ll come.”
“If you don’t come, then I’ll find you.” She threatened. Straightening up, he turned to respond. Then, Midoriya tapped his arm. Bakugou turned to him. They signed more.
Aizawa entered the room, too. “Alright, everyone,” he started, looking around. “We’re not talking about the media. Today, we’re going to be discussing…” Ochako may have tuned him out for a moment. Her eyes stayed on Midoriya and Bakugou. Even from her seat, she could see Shinsou staring at Midoriya pityingly. He wasn’t the only one. Ojiro, Yaoyorozu, even Iida were all glancing nervously or worriedly at Midoriya. On the one hand, she understood it.
It still made her sick.
Izuku didn’t know what to make of Uraraka.
Everyone was looking at him with pity. Even some of the teachers—Mic hadn’t called on him as much, Midnight had cornered him and asked if he wanted to step out of class, Hound Dog had tracked him down to ask if he wanted to have a session—were treating him that way. Aizawa hadn’t, thank everything. If he had, Izuku might have screamed. But even the people who he was close to were looking at him that same way.
Two days before, he had been duking it out with Iida, Ojiro, and Kirishima at the same time. They’d all been throwing punches. He’d been getting thrown around, it’d been great. It had been fun. Then, suddenly, some old information got leaked and then he walked into class and everyone was staring at him like he’d been diagnosed with cancer. Like he was dying. (It was preschool all over again. He was right back there, people looking at him with pity or scorn, talking to his mother like she was dealing with a dying son. People treating him like he had already died.)
The day after coming back to class, he was about to scream. Heroics had been horrible. The only person who would spar with him was Kacchan. He had asked everyone else, but Yaoyorozu had dragged Shouto away before he had the chance to ask and Kirishima was working with Sato, and Tsu and Uraraka were together, and Iida had teamed with Ojiro—no one wanted to work with him! Quirklessness wasn’t contagious. It wasn’t like he would pass it to them if he touched them! So, in the end, Kacchan had been the only one to spar with him. For the whole class, even when everyone else was switching. Aizawa had sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled something about “problem children”, and then did nothing. Which was worse.
And then the second day rolled around, and Uraraka walked up to him.
Arms crossed, she demanded, “Spar with me.”
Blinking dumbly, Izuku stared at her. “What?”
“Spar with me. Now. Right now.” She straightened her back. Helplessly, Izuku turned and looked back at Kacchan. The traitor was already heading off to grab Kirishima by the back of the shirt, dragging him away. They had just been told that they were to pair up. “Don’t look after him. Look at me. Come on, Deku.”
She didn’t say it like an insult. That was what caught his attention. She didn’t use Deku as an insult—she had never used Deku as an insult. Instead, she was…calling him that for something else. For a reason.
He turned to look at her, wide-eyed. With a smile, Uraraka dropped into a fighting pose. A beat passed. Quickly, he dropped into a fighting pose. A grin split his face. She returned it, wickedly.
Uraraka sprang in.
She aimed a punch for his face, immediately. Dodging to the side, he grabbed her wrist. She twisted. A space-themed heel went for his ribs. He dropped her, sprang back with Float. A laugh bubbled up in his chest. She grabbed a rock from the ground, throwing it at him, “Come on, Deku! Come down here and fight, you goofball!”
“Why don’t you come up here and fight me?” He threw out a tendril of Blackwhip. Grabbing her with it, he yanked her into the air. She yelled, laughing, and then caught herself with a hand on her chest to make herself float. “Oh my gosh, Uraraka, you should totally see if you can get a jet booster.”
“Stop talking and start fighting!” She aimed her grapples at him, managed to latch one around his arm. Dragging herself in, she planted a foot in his chest. He grabbed her ankle. “Gunhead martial arts!” With another twist, she wrapped a hand around his shoulder and flipped him. The world spun. He was shoved towards the ground with a foot in the small of his back. A twist, a hand on the ground. He kicked off the training mats, soared up to her and threw a punch. She blocked. Ducking under his arm, she jabbed him in the ribs, fingertips finding the gap between them. The nerves went on fire, stinging as he reeled back.
“Ow!?” Turning to her, a hand braced against his side, he frowned, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Come on, Deku!” She angled herself for another fight, another punch. The sunlight streaming through the gym windows caught in the brown of her hair, sparkled in her eyes. “Let’s dance!”
Grinning, Izuku launched himself at her.
When Katsuki mentioned what Uraraka wanted to Izuku, the choice was made: they were heading to meet up with her.
She stood outside Heights Alliance, a backpack slung over her shoulder. When Katsuki had let her know they were coming, she told them to bring two things: a backpack with a change of clothes and an empty stomach. Being hero trainees, though, they were all black holes when it came to food. They really only had to worry about one of those. She had also advised them to grab a drink if they didn’t want water or tea, which meant Katsuki had to wrestle Izuku out of grabbing some sugary bullshit from the vending machine. They ended up compromising with lemonades.
Either way, Uraraka was typing away on her flip phone, eyes narrowed slightly as she texted someone. When they approached, she looked up, snapped it closed with a click, and then tucked the phone into her front pocket. “There you are! I was waiting for you!”
“Who were you texting?” Katsuki grunted, nodding at her phone.
She glanced at it for a second. Then, with a smile that hadn’t quite faded but had definitely started to, she replied, “No one important.”
Looking at her with narrowed eyes, he studied her face. She was lying. Actually, he was about to call her out for exactly that, but then her eyes flicked to the nerd and the message was clear enough. Please just wait. Not right now.
Fine, then, he thought. Keep your secrets for now. “So, Round Cheeks.” He began. “Where are we going?”
“My house.” Adjusting her backpack higher on her shoulder, she said, “Let’s go. We’ve got a train to catch.”
Katsuki didn’t listen to her or the nerd as they moved. Right then, Uraraka took on the goal of distracting Izuku while Katsuki looked around. He kept an eye out for idiots. People who’d be rude. People who might throw things at them, might yell at Izuku for being Quirkless, any number of things. He didn’t know what it was going to be, but it didn’t matter. He focused on that, keeping guard, while Uraraka spoke with Izuku about some sort of card game. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.
He kept his guard up until they were at the Urarakas. The sun was almost gone, the sky was going from late afternoon blues to early twilight oranges and purples. Holding his own backpack, understanding suddenly why Uraraka warned them to bring a change of clothes, Katuski tipped his head back to look at the sky. He could see Venus. Castor and Pollux were right by Mars, the rest of Gemini fanning out around them. If he tried, if he had enough time, he could probably spot Monoceros and Carina. Most of them were easy to find, easy to spot if it was a clear night. If there was enough time.
The door opened, and a woman who looked almost exactly like Uraraka stood there. She was wearing a simple yellow gingham dress, there were more lines around her eyes, and she immediately dragged her daughter into a hug. “Oh, Ochako! You brought friends!”
“Hi, Mom.” Uraraka replied, hugging her back. “I know that this was a bit…sudden—”
“Oh, I saw the news.” Mrs. Uraraka waved a hand. Turning to Katsuki and Izuku, she extended a hand and said, “Call me Reiko, I’m Ochako’s mother.”
That’s…very informal, Katsuki thought, glancing at Izuku as he took Reiko’s hand. When he shook it, he noted that she had warm hands, a firm grasp with callouses along her fingertips like she wrote a lot. Maybe she did. “Katsuki.” He replied, going for the same level of formality.
“Izuku.”
“And you two can call me Ochako here.” Ochako said, putting her hands on her hips and grinning at them. Already, Izuku had his mouth open to protest. Cutting him off with a buzzer sound, Ochako continued, “It’s my house. I make the rules.”
“It’s my house, Ochako.” Reiko teased, pinching her daughter’s cheek gently. Laughing, Ochako nudged her. Turning to Katsuki and Izuku again, Reiko said, “It’s lovely to meet you. Come in, come in. We’re having dinner together. It’s Spanish night!”
“Spanish night?” Katsuki asked as Ochako shoved him and Izuku inside.
“We mix it up a bit in my house. Mom used to travel a lot when she was living with my grandparents.” With a shrug, Ochako watched them kick off their usual shoes for house slippers. “So, we’re having—what is it?”
“Empanadas! I mean, technically they’re salteñas, so they’re Argentinian. I hope you like spicy!”
“Trust me, Katsuki loves spicy.” Ochako said with a glance his way. She grinned at him. He looked back at her. “Izuku, how do you do with spice?”
Arms crossed, Katsuki nodded at Izuku and said, “He has better spice tolerance than I do. You should try Auntie Inko’s katsudon sometime. It will destroy your mouth.” She grinned at him.
“Bet. Oh! This is my dad!” She bounced over to a tall man with dusty, light brown hair, dark eyes, and lighter skin. Holding onto his arm, she tilted her head into his shoulder and grinned.
“Uraraka Shuhei,” he said, grabbing Katsuki’s hand to shake it when he offered it. He had the same circular shapes on his fingertips that Ochako had. Looking at them, Katsuki blinked. “I have a similar Quirk to my daughter. Hers is much stronger, though.”
“That’s amazing.” Izuku murmured, stepping in and grabbing Shuhei’s hand to look at it. Then, freezing, he stepped back, mumbled apologies.
“Ah, no worries. Ochako’s spoken about you a lot.” Shuhei glanced at her. Face turning pink, she hurried over to help her mother at the oven. Shuhei rolled his eyes well-naturedly, watching his daughter and wife. “Nice to meet the two of you. Call me Shuhei. Only my bosses call me Uraraka.”
“Will do.” Izuku replied. “So, your Quirk is Anti-gravity?”
“Sort of. I can make smaller things float. Ochako has better control and scope than I do. I have to keep on holding what I make float.”
Ever the Quirk analyst, “Is hers a result of Quirks mixing? Like telekinesis and—”
Reiko laughed brightly. “Oh, no. We don’t know where it comes from. I’m Quirkless.” Waving a hand, she added, “Would you two like to have some frijoles refritos? I mean, they’re usually called refried beans and I know they’re not exactly Argentinean as much as they are Mexican or Tex-Mex, but you know—beans!”
Katsuki glanced at Izuku. He glanced back. Then, smiling, Izuku turned back and said, “Sounds great, Mrs.—Reiko. Mrs. Reiko.”
“Smooth.” Katsuki huffed, shaking his head. He met Ochako’s gaze, arched a brow. She smiled right back.
Ochako ended up being cornered by Bakugou on the way back.
Midoriya had sat down and drifted off, leaning against the post. If she had to guess, he was just…really tired. He and her dad had talked for four hours straight. It was almost one in the morning, they would get back to Yuuei around three. There was a reason she’d asked for them to head out on a weekend, but Aizawa had asked them to head back so they hadn’t needed the change of clothes she’d mentioned. Still, it would be nice to at least have them set up beforehand.
He didn’t have the conversation with her out loud, though. Raising his hands, he said, “Your mother is Quirkless.”
“Yes.” Leaning against the post, Bakugou huffed. Now, Midoriya had his head resting against Bakugou’s hip. He didn’t seem to mind, hooking his foot with Midoriya’s. It was so subtle a move she might have thought it was just him adjusting as the train moved. She knew better, though. Eyes darting down, she met his gaze. Arched a brow. “Was Midoriya really Quirkless?”
“Long story. Yes. Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?”
His eyes sharpened. “Not anymore.”
“You sign differently with him. Not JSL. What?”
“ASL.” Shrugging, Bakugou tilted his head to the side, tapping right behind his ear. There was something behind his ear, so thin that it blended into his hair. When he brushed it back a little bit—
“Deaf?”
“Hard of Hearing.” With a shrug, he said, “All Might obsession. American stories have American sign interpreters. So, we learned."
"Smart." Looking at him and Midoriya, she added, “I’m not surprised. It is you two.”
“When is it not?” A sharp grin. A shift on his feet. “You looked at him differently. Kirishima—” (She was beginning to recognize his name signs. Kirishima was K, the sign for hair. Different than Kaminari—dunce face. Kyouka’s was the sign for music with a J, Momo’s was Princess.) “—even looked at him with pity. Not you.”
“I know what Quirkless people go through.” She said, shrugging. “I watched my mom deal. Some people don’t hire us if they find out that Mom is Quirkless. I sympathize. Mom doesn’t want pity. Does he?”
“No. No, he wouldn’t.” He snorted, “You’re the only one who realizes that. Aizawa—”
She bust out laughing at the name sign. She couldn’t help it! He’d turned Caterpillar into Aizawa’s name. Looking at her, nose wrinkled, he rolled his eyes and grinned.
“Deal with it, Uraraka.”
“Ochako.” She corrected. “Call me Ochako, dickhead.”
He grinned at her, repeated the sign he had done earlier. The U had been changed out with an O. Then, he added, “Call me Katsuki.” The sign was perfect, really. It looked like an explosion.
“Katsuki.”
He grinned wickedly, and she returned it.