Chapter Text
Move-in day crawled towards him at a snail's pace, but Izuku threw himself back into training like never before.
(He refused to be Deku this time.)
It made the time pass marginally faster– maybe– but only enough so he wasn't stuck staring at the ceiling the entire time, waiting and waiting and waiting for... something. Move-in day, or the world ending. One of the two.
Which is why, when his phone buzzed—
Yoarashi:
I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN!!!!!!!
—he nearly jumped out of his skin.
(Yeah, he remembered exchanging numbers with both Yoarashi and Utsushimi, but he never expected—)
Yoarashi:
DID YOU GET IN TOO???
PLEASE TELL ME YOU GOT IN OR IM GONNA YELL INTO THE OCEAN
(—them to actually text him. Definitely not for something as important as school acceptances.)
(Well, school acceptances for Yoarashi.)
Izuku:
I did!! I got in too!!
(And certainly not as enthusiastically.)
Yoarashi:
YESSSSSSS!!!!
ROOMMATES!!
DORMMATES??
DO YOU THINK THE ROOMS LOOK THE SAME AS THE LIVE IN TRIAL OR DO YOU THINK WE SHARE
IF WE SHARE A ROOM I CALL DIBS ON THE TOP BUNK BUT YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT
OR WE CAN ROTATE???
OH MY GOD IM GONNA SCREAM AGAIN
Izuku:
Rotating sounds fair 😭 thank you
Yoarashi:
HELL YEAH
SHIKETSU HERE WE COME
Not that he was complaining. It was just odd.
(It went against practically everything he's ever learned.)
Doubly so when—
Utsushimi:
should i be offended u havent texted me yet, or?
unless u didnt text bc u didnt get accepted
in which case i need to know asap so i can drop out
Actually, make that triple weird, because this was a girl texting him.
(And he wasn't girl crazy the same way a lot of his old classmates were, but it was still... something. It was something.)
Izuku:
Askjdfkjadsdkjf you don't need to drop out!!
Utsushimi:
!!!!!!!!!
You got in??
Izuku:
Yeah!!
Utsushimi:
HELL YEAH
CONGRATS!!
Izuku:
Haha thanks
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out why they texted him first.
There was no schoolwork that he was being hamstrung to do all the work for. He was in his bedroom, so there wasn't a hidden classmate taking a video of him to laugh at later.
(Did sending another message to continue the conversation break the rules, too?)
He didn't have to think about that for too long, though, before Utsushimi texted him again.
Utsushimi:
anyway u better text me if u need help surviving year one
or want memes
or fashion advice. dont think i didnt see your tshirt tshirt. its an abomination
Despite himself, he snorted. He knew exactly which t-shirt she was talking about.
Izuku:
hey, that's one of my favorite shirts :(
Utsushimi:
oh god its worse than i thought. im staging an intervention
on GOD midori-babe we're gonna get you some good clothes
It was weird, but Izuku couldn't say he disliked it.
Still, as the days crawled by, he never risked sending a text message first.
Not that he had to, though– Yoarashi could be relied on to send him a link to a cat video at least once a day, or random pictures of Tokyo, and Utsushimi would randomly text him fashion advice or academic tips. One time they texted for nearly an hour just discussing his hair care routine.
(He almost wanted to send them both a picture when he got it cut.)
(He didn't, though.)
Thankfully, move-in day did come eventually.
Well, the day before move-in day came. But move-in day was also orientation, which started at 8am, and he didn't really want to leave home at 5am, so he was going to spend the night at a hotel.
He dragged his poor, practically bursting suitcase towards the door. His mom trailed behind him, wringing her hands nervously.
"Okay," she said, smoothing the front of her shirt even though it didn't need it. "Okay. Um. Do you have everything?"
"Yeah," Izuku said softly. "Triple-checked and ready to go."
She nodded, eyes growing watery, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
A beat passed.
"Mom?" he prompted.
Her lips twitched– up, then down, then back up, like she couldn't figure out whether to smile or frown. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just... I always take a picture of you on your first day. In your uniform."
Her voice cracked slightly at the end.
"But you don't have it yet. So I guess..." She laughed, high and watery, brushing a hand against her cheeks preemptively. "I guess I'll have to wait until you visit, huh?"
Izuku's heart folded in on itself. He swallowed, rushing forward to throw his arms around her. "I can– when I get my uniform. I'll send you a picture, I promise."
She sniffled, hugging him tight.
"I'll even smile for it," he added. "A real smile. Not my weird nervous one. Hopefully."
That got a real laugh from her, at least. She pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, making the top of it stick up every which way. "Oh, my baby boy," she said, tears streaming from her eyes. "I'm so proud of you. So, so proud."
"Mom," he complained, ducking away as she tried to pinch his cheek.
She laughed again. "Well, I won't keep you any longer, you've got a train to catch. Text me once you get settled, okay?"
"I will," he promised, turning towards the door. He straightened, took a deep breath, and opened it.
"I love you!"
"Love you too!"
On the train, beneath the nervous excitement, guilt roiled in his gut. He knew it wasn't his fault that he didn't have his uniform yet– Shiketsu's exam was so close to move-in day that the best they could do was give you the uniform when you got to your dorms.
(And their system certainly worked– Izuku got his acceptance only twelve hours after he got home from the exams. The entire thing was heavily monitored, it seemed– somehow beyond what they said.)
(Or the admissions faculty didn't sleep. It was hard to tell.)
Regardless, he spent the first thirty minutes of the train ride trying not to think about it by playing a game on his phone.
Thirty minutes later, he found himself trying not to think about it by reading the same passage of a book over and over again.
Another thirty minutes crawled by as he tried to write in his notebook, the blank page staring back at him like an accusation.
By the last stretch of the ride, he couldn’t handle the mounting guilt anymore. He wrinkled his nose, swallowed his anxiety, and pulled his phone back out.
Izuku:
Hey, weird question. Could you maybe take a picture of me in my uniform tomorrow? My mom's kind of upset she couldn't take one.
(He broke the rules.)
His fingers curled around his phone, tighter and tighter, matching the feeling in his chest.
Izuku's heart climbed into his throat as he watched Yoarashi's text bubble pop up, then disappear, then pop up again.
Yoarashi:
DUDE SAY NO MORE
WE'RE GONNA DO A WHOLE PHOTOSHOOT
I'll find the perfect wall. maybe a tree. natural lighting. HERO POSES
Izuku:
Hero poses might be a bit much
Yoarashi:
YOU CANT STOP ME
Izuku snorted. It was a more enthusiastic response than he was expecting, but he wasn't complaining.
(And his mom would probably adore a whole photoshoot.)
He settled back in for the rest of the train ride, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gazed out the window.
Check-in wasn't until 8, and the doors didn't open until 7:30, but Izuku couldn't stop himself from catching the first cable car up– half to get it over with, considering the motion sickness, and half because he was a ball of restless energy and woke up at 4am.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one wanting to get there early– the cable car wasn't anywhere near full, but it seemed that a handful of second and third years wanted to avoid the crowd.
And there was a crowd. Izuku had to wait nearly two hours for the doors to open, with every cable car that came up after his releasing more and more people until he was all but caged in by other students.
(It was fine. He wasn't freaking out.)
It hit him all at once when the gates opened with a groan.
Holy shit. He was at Shiketsu.
He followed the flow of the crowd inside, his suitcase rattling on the pavement behind him, only breaking away to go to the desk labeled "First-Years."
"Name?" the man at the desk asked, not looking up.
"Uh– Midoriya. Er, Midoriya Izuku," he babbled, feeling like he wasn't in his body.
(There were forty– no, forty-one people in the main building with him, with the number growing quickly. He could feel them breathing as most of them skipped the check-in desk, but a fair number formed a line behind him.)
The man nodded, not saying anything as he rifled through several folders on the counter. After a moment, he handed one to Izuku.
"You're headed to dorm complex A. Follow the hallway all the way left to get to the field, then follow the signs to your assigned dorm. Maps are displayed prominently in each hallway."
Izuku managed a quiet "Thank you," before he followed the directions in a daze.
Hallway on the left, all the way down.
(Holy shit, he was at Shiketsu.)
He took a breath as he stepped outside, feeling like a floundering fish and marginally calmer at the same time.
He's been in this field before. He's followed the path to the dorms before.
(He wasn't a student last time, just an examinee. But it wasn't that different, right?)
(Yeah, right. Who was he kidding?)
At least he didn't feel as caged in as he did inside. He moved without thinking, following the path until he reached his dorm.
(He hoped it was the correct dorm, at least. He glanced down at the folder in his hand– his name was printed across the front, and directly underneath was Dorm-6A.)
He looked back up.
He was in the right spot, according to the sign. Other people walked around where he had frozen on the sidewalk, parting around him like a stream around a rock– some going into the building, some continuing on to one of the other buildings.
Why wouldn't his legs move?
His awareness tugged as someone split from the stream to approach him from behind. Izuku turned before they could reach towards him.
The boy's movement stuttered before stopping, like he was surprised Izuku had turned to look at him when he did.
(Recognition tugged at Izuku's brain. Disheveled white hair, red eyes, slightly pointed ears, and a nervous but wide grin. Taller and broader than Izuku, but not by much.)
"Hope I didn't spook you," he said sheepishly. He hand he was holding in the air went to rub at the back of his neck. "Midoriya, right? We were in the same group last time. I like your haircut."
Izuku's brain was off doing... something, leaving him only able to stare.
After a second, the boy laughed slightly. "Uh, Takeshi Kenzo," he said, pointing at himself. "Not sure if you remember me."
To both his relief and horror, Izuku's brain decided to come back online right around now, leaving him to sputter, "No, I remember you! Sorry, I'm just..." and trail off into a series of random noises, arms waving in front of himself.
Thankfully, Takeshi laughed again. "No, I totally get it. Being here is crazy, right?"
Izuku nodded.
Takeshi glanced down at his own folder, taking a couple steps forward. "Anyway, first-years are in dorm A, right? You coming with?"
"Right! Yeah," Izuku managed, stumbling forward.
It wasn't until Izuku was safely in his dorm room– and it looked exactly like the one he stayed in during the live-in trial– and dropping his stuff onto the ground that he started giggling a touch hysterically.
He was at Shiketsu. He made it to Shiketsu!
(His stomach rolled.)
He collapsed onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.
(He nearly startled at how short it was. He had only gotten it cut a few days ago, and hadn't properly adjusted yet.)
With another steadying breath– and a quick look at the time– he turned his attention on the folder.
Inside, there was a timetable, a temporary ID, the student handbook and code of conduct, a map of the grounds, and, to his surprise, a list of mental health resources.
He scanned over the timetable quickly. Orientation was expected to go from nine to noon– and "uniform required" was in bold letters beside it– followed by lunch. The rest of the day would be taken up by "health tasks," which isn't ominous at all, before dinner was served at 6:30, and curfew at 8PM.
(8PM seemed a little early to Izuku, but maybe it was just for the first week or so, to help students settle in.)
(Or maybe Shiketsu was just strict. It could go either way, really.)
He glanced at the time– had another thirty minutes before he had to be at the auditorium for the welcoming ceremony.
(Where was he supposed to find his uniform, though?)
He ended up sitting on his bed for fifteen minutes in an overwhelmed panic– he made it to Shiketsu, but where was his uniform? Was he supposed to go somewhere to grab it? Did he miss something?– before he felt someone walking down the hallway.
He scrambled out of his room, catching the person– a boy with an axolotl-looking mutation who was thankfully wearing his uniform– just before he passed.
The boy let out a startled yelp, scrambling a few steps back.
“Sorry!” Izuku said quickly. “Where did you find your uniform?”
“Uh… in my closet?” the boy said nervously.
“Thanks!” Izuku said, rushing back into the room and shutting the door just a bit too hard.
“…No problem?” the boy said through the door.
Welcoming ceremonies were always a complicated experience for Izuku.
On one hand, he enjoyed the tradition of it; everything from marching in and bowing and even having to listen to all the names of the first-years.
On the other hand, his quirk never cooperated in forced proximity to so many people. His awareness stretched as far as it could go, counting and recounting the bodies around him, cataloguing every movement.
(He could feel the internal structures of the people closest to him.)
Ten, twenty, forty, eighty, one hundred and twenty students. Ten, twenty, forty, forty-five, forty-six faculty members? No, wait—
And the speeches tended to get a bit boring at the best of times. He was excited for this welcoming ceremony, though. After all, this was Shiketsu.
(He was going to become a hero.)
It seemed a fair number of his classmates agreed with him– mostly other first-years, who were fidgeting in their seats, trying to stay quiet.
A woman with long black hair, white at the temples and pulled into a tight bun, approached the podium, and a hush fell across the audience– like everyone decided at once to hold their breath. She took a moment, looking over the students with a critical eye behind square glasses. Her expression was calm, almost serene.
Just when the audience started to get antsy again, she spoke.
"Welcome, students, to another year at Shiketsu. I am Principal Hakuzan," she said.
Ten, twenty, forty, eighty, one hundred and twenty students. Someone five rows down was bouncing her leg.
"I'd like to personally congratulate the first-years joining us. I'm certain that many of you only saw Shiketsu as a backup to Yuuei, but I hope we can prove worthy of your time." She paused, surveying the audience again. "You were selected after rigorous testing. Not only that, you were shown a side to heroics that is not seen by many. Most would prefer to sweep it under the rug, pretend it doesn't exist– but you stayed. You have chosen Shiketsu back. That in itself is something to be proud of."
Ten, twenty, forty, sixty, sixty-five, seventy, seventy-five faculty members? Where on earth did they get their funding?
"As I'm sure you've noticed, and as our senior students can attest to, Shiketsu prides itself on its unique approach to heroics. Where other schools would train you, we focus on teaching you. You will not just learn skills here, you will understand them.
"It is my promise to you, my students, that the lessons you take from Shiketsu will serve you for years, even if you choose a different path. Perseverance will lead to strength. Teamwork is paramount. Kindness is everything. That is Shiketsu's model; for what is being a hero, if not to be kind?"
One hundred and twenty students. Seventy-five faculty members. Someone in the faculty section has sneezed four– five times now.
"I'd like to thank each of you for placing your education in our hands. It is not something that we, the faculty, take lightly," she said before bowing.
One hundred and ninety people in the room with him. The girl in front him tugged at the ends of her hair nervously.
"Now, we have a lot to get through today, and I don't want to take up too much more of your time. However, before we continue, I'd like to remind the first-years that Hero Basic Training begins in a week."
Some of the first-years shifted nervously, a quiet murmur breaking out in their section.
(A handful of upperclassmen started snickering. Izuku's pretty sure he heard someone whisper "good luck.” Dread curled in Izuku’s gut.)
One hundred and ninety people in the room with him. Eighty-four people close enough for Izuku to feel their internal structures.
"You should be aware of this already, and your waivers should already be signed. The remainder of this week will be spent ensuring paperwork is in order and preparing you for the trials you are about to face–and make no mistake, this training will be grueling. But if there's one thing I'd like you all to remember, it's that you will persevere, and you will come out on the other side stronger than you were. Your classmates are not just your classmates, they are your teammates. Lean on them. Support each other. If you do that, the only obstacle you will have to overcome is yourself."
Izuku let out a slow breath, fingers twitching as he willed his quirk to stop. He needed to focus.
(The paperwork had mentioned basic training, but it was unclear what exactly that entailed– and with Shiketsu being as secretive as it was, there wasn't much online to tell him.)
Before he could dwell on it, however, Principal Hakuzan bowed again.
"Thank you for your time, and welcome to Shiketsu. I'll now give the stage to Ozawa Yumi."
The student body stood up again, bowing as she walked off the stage, replaced with a willowy third-year girl.
One hundred and ninety people in the room with him. Eighty-four too close to him– he needed to get out of this room.
Someone two rows in front of him and five seats to the left was missing their appendix. Someone six rows behind him and one seat to the right was nodding off.
"Please be seated," the girl said. "My name is Ozawa Yumi, part of the last year's Platinum Nine. It's my honor to detail the majority of the information that is necessary for our first-years to succeed."
Behind her, the projector lit up. Written across it were the words "Aegis Protocol."
"The Aegis Protocol is, arguably, one of the most important parts of training here at Shiketsu. It's the failsafe of any training exercise– a metaphorical eject button, if you will," Ozawa said. A couple of the upperclassman laughed quietly.
"Put simply, it's a safeword. If, at any point during any training exercise, you or someone near you starts panicking or gets injured, calling 'aegis' pulls the plug immediately. Aid will be administered with no repercussions."
Ten, twenty, forty, eighty, one hundred and sixty, one hundred and ninety, one hundred and ninety-eight lungs that he could feel moving asynchronously in his vicinity.
"The purpose of the Aegis Protocol is to promote safety at all times, but also to build trust in your teammates as time goes on. Trust that they will have your safety in mind during training, just as you will have their safety in yours."
One hundred and twenty students, seventy-five faculty members, one person missing their appendix, eighty-four heartbeats he could feel in his teeth—
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
With a quick glance around, he subtly pulled his phone out.
Utsushimi:
oi, u good?
Izuku:
we're supposed to be paying attention
Utsushimi:
ya, but i can see u from where im sitting. ur shoulders are at ur ears, babe. u ok?
Izuku:
I'm fine
Utsushimi:
Like, fine-fine, or leave me alone fine, or don't wanna talk about it fine? bc i can leave it alone, u just seem Tense and i dont want u to have a panic attack during orientation
It took Izuku a moment to decide whether or not he actually wanted to say anything.
Someone three seats to his right was scratching his crotch.
Izuku:
there's too many people in here.
Utsushimi:
u wanna step out?
Izuku:
Is that allowed?
He heard her snort quietly behind him, and felt as she shifted to slip her phone back into her pocket before standing.
(No one even turned to look at her.)
She walked farther to the back, stopping to lean in and whisper to someone in the faculty section.
(He felt the faculty member nod, and Utsushimi started walking away again, towards the door.)
His phone buzzed again.
Utsushimi:
got permission for u. cmon
With a relieved sigh, he stood and started shuffling out of his seat as quietly as he could.
(Nobody glanced at her, but he got more than a couple questioning looks from the other first-years. He hoped his face only felt like it was burning.)
He didn't pause at the door that Utsushimi held open– instead, he kept walking until the crowd in the auditorium was barely licking at the edge of his awareness, then kept walking until he reached a door that led outside.
The fresh air was more than welcome against his face.
Utsushimi trailed behind him quietly, seemingly content to watch as he breathed in lungfuls of air like he had been underwater or too long.
(Shame burned in his throat. He made it to Shiketsu, but he couldn't even sit through orientation. He wasn't good enough to be here, entrance exam results be damned.)
Utsushimi walked past him to sit at a bench.
He resisted the urge to wallow, instead moving to join her.
"Good to see you, by the way," she said as he sat, voice hushed. "I know you texted me that you got in, but I was still a bit worried. Also, why didn't you tell me you cut your hair?"
He laughed lightly as he brought a hand up to the shaved sides, feeling the way it moved under his palm. "Uh, surprise?"
Utsushimi rolled her eyes. "It looks good."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence– the kind that curls around you like a blanket– that lasted a couple minutes before Izuku felt someone almost-familiar approach the door behind them. He turned in time to see Amano stepping out into the courtyard.
Izuku scrambled to his feet immediately, straightening his posture. Beside him, Camie snorted.
Amano's lips quirked up slightly. "Breathe, Midoriya," he said, echoing the same sentiment from weeks ago. "No need to stand at attention. In fact, sit back down; there's no need to stand at all. I'm here as a peer."
"Right! Right, sorry, I just–" Izuku sucked in a breath, cutting off his nervous rambling before it could start. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize, either," Amano said kindly, pulling his hat off and shaking out his hair. He turned slightly and inclined his head. "Utsushimi-san. I hope you've been well."
She rolled her eyes. "Always so formal," she scolded with a grin. Amano chuckled.
Izuku swallowed, his heart practically jumping in his chest. "Uh, what's– what's happening right now?"
Amano raised an eyebrow. "What do you think is happening?"
"I don't know," Izuku said, hands gripping his knees hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. "Am I in trouble for not staying in the auditorium?"
"Nah," Utsushimi said immediately.
Amano looked up at the sky briefly, like he was sending a prayer for patience. "You're not in trouble, Midoriya-kun. You really think you're the first student to need to tap out of orientation?"
As if summoned, three more people walked out of the building. One of them waved at Utsushimi as they passed; all it took was a quick glance to realize that it was two upperclassmen flanking a first-year girl with jet black hair, leading her to a bench farther down.
"Everyone has their own unique needs," Amano said softly. "Not everyone is built for crowds. Some people are good at toughing it out. Others, not so much."
Utsushimi nudged Izuku's leg with her foot. "He means you, Midori-babe."
Amano sent her a sharp look.
Izuku sputtered. "I'm– but I could handle it during the entrance exams. I could've—"
"That may be so," Amano interrupted gently, "but Shiketsu wasn't aware of how overstimulating your quirk was then. If it had been known by the faculty, you would've had the exam information delivered to you in a less stressful environment. And overwhelm can happen without reason, even if a similar scenario didn't cause it."
Izuku ducked his head. "How am I supposed to be a hero if I can't handle a stupid crowd?" he grumbled.
"It's something that will be improved upon during your time here," Amano said. "Regardless, it was our job to keep an eye on you, make sure you were okay. Utsushimi-san noticed you weren't, so she pulled you outside."
For a moment, Izuku didn't say anything, chewing on the new information.
Then, "But what about—"
"We've got it handled, babe," Utsushimi said. "I sat through orientation last year, and he's sat through two of them. We're able to catch you up to speed."
(The first-year at the other bench tugged at her sleeves.)
All the questions hit him at once.
But, "Why?" was all he managed.
"Welcome to Shiketsu's buddy program," Utsushimi said cheerfully.
"Mentorship program," Amano corrected drily.
"Whatever. The school gives you two guaranteed friends, free of charge, based on quirk compatibility and emotional needs."
"Emotional needs," Izuku repeated, almost dumbly.
(The words felt foreign in his mouth.)
"The admissions faculty kept an eye out for a lot of things during the exams," Amano supplied. "From there, accepted students were matched with two upperclassmen– one second-year, one third-year– to assist you with anything you may not feel comfortable going to faculty about."
"Anything from sparring practice to having trouble making friends to having a crush on a classmate," Utsushimi chirped.
"I think I need to sit down," Izuku murmured, despite the fact that he was already sitting down.
Utsushimi patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I know exactly how you feel, babe. But we're your first line of defense during basic training– and trust me, you're gonna have a hell of a time. Speaking from experience– I was an absolute wreck for most of it."
"And a menace," Amano added. "I heard all about your shenanigans. I'm glad you weren't my mentee, I'd have dropped out."
Utsushimi rolled her eyes. "'Shenanigans,' he says. Why do you talk like you're fifty?"
"Why?" Izuku asked again, reeling from both the information and the odd way Amano and Utsushimi were bickering.
(Amano was the proctor for the live-in trial. He was stiff, he was stern– why was he acting so... normal?)
Both Amano and Utsushimi paused, looking at him carefully.
After a second, Amano asked, "Why were we specifically chosen to be your mentors?"
Izuku nodded.
Utsushimi clicked her tongue. "Okay, so, you're like... made of anxiety, babe."
Amano shot her another sharp look. "What Utsushimi-san means to say is that during your live-in trial, it was noted that you seem to... struggle with interacting with new people, especially on your own volition," he said slowly, like he was trying to word everything as gently as possible.
In his defense, Izuku did know that about himself already. It was a side effect of being bullied for the majority of his academic career.
(His thoughts strayed to the rules of texting his classmates.)
"So they paired me up with people I was already somewhat familiar with, to help mitigate that," Izuku finished for Amano.
Amano grinned at him. "Precisely."
(Izuku nearly preened.)
"Okay," Izuku said with a slow nod. "And, uh, why...?" he trailed off, gesturing first at Amano, then slightly towards Utsushimi.
For a second, they both blinked at him owlishly.
Then Utsushimi began to laugh uproariously.
Izuku ducked his head again as Amano immediately scowled at her.
"Sorry, sorry," she managed between giggles. "It's just– Midori-babe, are you asking why Ama-chan—"
"Don't call me that—"
"—isn't as much of an asshole as he was during the live-in trial?"
Amano's ears were pink as he gave Utsushimi a withering glare.
Izuku flushed. "I didn't– he wasn't an asshole," he sputtered, voice cracking as he swore, which just sent Utsushimi into another laughing fit.
Amano sighed, ducking his head to scratch at the back of his neck as Utsushimi's giggles finally started to quiet down. "To be perfectly frank," he started, "I was playing a part. During the live-in trials, the supervising third-years are supposed to be intimidating. No-nonsense."
"And while Amano-kun is a bit of a stick in the mud normally," Utsushimi added– and Izuku noticed the way she seemed to watch him carefully when she said his name, like she wasn't actually trying to offend him, "he's actually pretty nice."
Amano's eyebrow twitched. "High praise, Utsushimi-san," he said, deadpan.
Utsushimi winked at him.
"I'd also like the record to show that I am a teenager," Amano muttered softly. Still, he didn't look too put off as he stretched his arms above his head. "I digress. Midoriya-kun, you seem like you're feeling a bit better?"
Izuku nodded.
"Good," Amano said with a soft smile. "Down to brass tacks, then. Utsushimi-san?"
"I gotchu," she said with a wink. "Okay, Midori-babe. I pulled you out of the auditorium right before the rest of last year's Platinum Nine—"
"What's the Platinum Nine?" Izuku blurted. He winced. "Sorry, I just– I heard Ozawa-senpai introduce herself as part of it, but I've never heard of it before."
Amano glanced at Utsushimi, who shrugged.
"Are you aware of Yuuei's 'Big Three?'" Amano asked.
Izuku nodded enthusiastically, the words bubbling out of him easily as his inner fanboy took over. "Yeah, everyone knows about Yuuei's Big Three. They're announced every year during the Sports Festival– it's the top three third-years, the ones who are the closest to being pros. The best of the best."
Amano hummed, his head bobbing side to side like he disliked agreeing with what Izuku said, but couldn't actually argue against it.
"Shiketsu's Platinum Nine is a... similar concept," Amano started.
Izuku blinked. "Does Shiketsu pick out nine third-years instead of three?"
(That seems... inefficient.)
"Ah, not quite," Amano amended. "There are nine students chosen, yes, but it's three from every year, and they're chosen by the other students."
Izuku's eyebrows shot to his hairline.
"That doesn't make much sense, though. Why leave it to the students to pick? Wouldn't that cause like... jealousy? Or hostility?"
Amano hummed, taking a moment to think before he answered. "Hostility, no. Jealousy... maybe," he finally said.
"Do you remember Kagawa-chan from the Live-In trial?" Utsushimi asked. When Izuku nodded, she continued, "Her role during the trial was to observe what happened when the social dynamic was disrupted. There was someone doing that in every group. You'll notice that none of the kids who jumped at your throat as soon as they were given the chance are here."
"The admissions process isn't foolproof," Amano said, "but it is pretty good. But beyond that, the Platinum Nine aren't chosen for just power. It's a nomination of those who embody Shiketsu's model– empathy, teamwork, leadership. All of those are considered when it comes time to make nominations. The Platinum Nine are your peers and your role models. They're who you look to when you need someone to lean on. But those chosen are aware of the weight of that, and being chosen by their classmates instead of, say, faculty, helps avoid anyone having their ego stroked. Does that make sense?"
Izuku nodded again.
"Great. Utsushimi-san?"
"So, as I was saying earlier, I pulled you at right before the rest of the Platinum Nine did a live demonstration of the Aegis Protocol, but you started getting antsy right around when the presentation started. Do you need a recap, or do you think you've got it?"
Izuku swallowed. "I got the gist of it, I think," he said. "It's the panic button, right? Like if something goes wrong during training."
Amano nodded. "Did you have any questions about it?"
Several, actually.
Izuku chewed on his lip. “Honestly?” he asked.
Amano nodded.
"It seems... counterproductive," Izuku said slowly. "I mean– wouldn't you build a reliance on a failsafe? Out in the field, nothing's gonna stop an emergency as it's happening, right?"
"You're not wrong," Amano said with a nod. "Aegis works differently each year, though, to avoid that. For first-years, the purpose is to teach trust– in yourself, in your teammates, and in your teachers. No one should be left to flounder through training. That would be counterproductive. And once the situation is handled, those who feel able are allowed to resume the exercise."
Utsushimi grinned. "What he said. A first-year calling aegis is the eject button, but a second-year calling it is the panic button– if it's necessary, the exercise will be stopped, but otherwise, it'll just get slowed down to handle the emergency before resuming, with more emphasis on teammates handling it instead of teachers swooping in to save the day."
"Likewise, a third-year calling aegis doesn't pause the exercise at all, unless absolutely necessary, and all aid is administered by your teammates. It's more like a call for backup than anything else," Amano added.
"Oh," Izuku murmured. "That... makes sense. What about– well, Ozawa-senpai said there were no repercussions?"
"Why would there be?" Amano asked, eyebrow arching.
Izuku shrugged, shaking his head slightly. "I'm just– it's nothing."
(How was he supposed to verbalize that that felt like a lie? How was he supposed to articulate that the idea of there not being punishment for interrupting training was unfathomable?)
Amano's eyebrow twitched. "If you're sure."
(He clearly wanted to pry. Why wasn't he pressing the subject? Why was he taking what Izuku said at face value?)
(Did Izuku want him to press? He wasn't sure.)
"Moving on," Amano said, "the student code of conduct."
A couple hours later, Amano's watch beeped. "Ah, lunch. Midoriya-kun, are you comfortable going to the cafeteria with us?"
Izuku's head was already about to burst from the sheer amount of information that had just been crammed into it– the idea of voluntarily going into a loud, crowded space like a cafeteria made him nauseous.
By he didn't manage to say any of that before Amano stood. "Not a problem," he murmured gently. "I'll get food for the three of us. Any dietary restrictions?"
Izuku shook his head.
"Utsushimi-san?"
"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p' loudly. "See you in a few."
Amano nodded before walking away.
"Alright, now that he's gone," Utsushimi said as soon as he was out of earshot, leaning towards Izuku, "what's going on in your head, dude? You look like you're vibrating."
Izuku grimaced. "I'm just... processing."
Utsushimi nodded. "I saw your face while we were wrapping up on the Aegis Protocol, by the way. You looked like you were sucking on a lemon. What's up?"
(Oh god, did he? That's embarrassing.)
He inhaled slowly, pulling his hat off before lifting it above his hands with his quirk, letting it hover as he tried to get his thoughts into order.
(He could feel Utsushimi's heartbeat in his fingertips, strong and steady.)
"I'm not sure how to word it," he finally admitted. "It makes sense on paper– especially tapering it's function to avoid over-reliance. But we... we only have three years to train. I– we, everyone needs to learn everything in that three years. The entrance exam made it clear how dangerous this is."
She nodded.
"So, I guess I'm just caught on the 'no repercussions' part. It doesn't make any sense."
She hummed, leaning back against the bench. "I get where you're coming from," she started. "Honestly, I had the same thoughts last year." She laughed quietly– there was something underneath it, though, something Izuku couldn't read properly. "I mean, hell, it's not like anyone dropped everything anytime I started having a panic attack in middle school, so why would they do it here, where they're training us to survive life-or-death scenarios?"
(Oh, that's what was underneath the laugh– bitter grief, aged to an ache instead of sharp pain.)
(He understood all too well.)
"But they do drop everything. And I've never gotten in trouble for using aegis. No one has in my experience, either." Her face pinched slightly. "And there's something to be said about how it widens your window of tolerance. There's plenty of training exercises where if I had been expected to just push through my own panic, I would've ended up worse off. Instead of being prepared to handle those scenarios, I would've started panicking easier, or something." She shrugged. "They're not afraid of heaping the pressure on you, but they're not trying to break us. The goal is to build us up stronger so we don't break, but there's a safety net if you do, you know?"
"...It still feels like a trap," he mumbled after a moment of quiet.
She took a breath, weighing her words. "I get it. But you've already used aegis twice."
His hat dropped into his hands as he turned sharply. "What? When?"
She smirked, holding up a finger. "Once during the live-in trial, when I had my panic attack. You stopped the exercise to calm me down, called Amano-kun a jerk, and then we continued."
He flushed a violent shade of red at the reminder. He was so sure that Amano was going to kick him out afterwards...
Utsushimi, clearly fighting laughter at his expression, held up a second finger. "And once today, when you couldn't handle the auditorium. You didn't miss any information by getting pulled out. You didn't get in trouble either time."
"That's... true," he admitted begrudgingly.
She covered her mouth as she started giggling. "Not so scary now, huh?"
After a moment, he joined her laughter, albeit quieter. "I guess not."
By the time Izuku made it back to his dormroom, the only thing he could manage was pulling off his hat and flopping directly onto the bed.
(It wasn't soft like his was at home. He could feel the bedframe from where his weight pushed the mattress thin, hard beneath his joints.)
(He'd have to get a mattress topper or something before training really ramped up. Falling asleep on this bed while sore seems like a painful idea.)
(Waking up in this bed while sore sounded even worse.)
It wasn't that he was tired– although he was flat exhausted, honestly– so much as his brain still felt stuffed full, almost overflowing.
And it didn't help that he could feel everyone else in his dorm building moving around.
If he had any energy left, he'd probably be bouncing off the walls.
He made it to Shiketsu. He was going to be a hero.
But more than that, Shiketsu's education model was thorough. He wasn't sure that there was anything they hadn't thought of– everything from the mentorship program (which was genius, in his opinion, once the initial mortification wore off) to mandatory therapy (not even to handle past trauma– although they could if necessary– but primarily to teach emotional wellness) to individualized training. He hadn't read the student code of conduct yet, but Amano had given him the sparknotes version– and honestly, even the 'no social media' rule made sense.
(He shuddered as he remembered Amano’s explanation about stalkers and media safety. People weren’t actually like that, right?)
And on top of that, the second half of the day was spent checking off medical items, to Izuku's mild surprise. A physical with the nurse, Kusuriya– who was actually a nurse practitioner and qualified to perform surgery when necessary– then a meeting with one of several quirk counselors that stayed on campus; the one he met with was named Sakuma, and his quirk was called 2D– he could compress his own body's dimensions onto any flat surface until he was basically moving graffiti on a wall, which was so cool. Following that was a meeting with a nutritionist– who was waiting for Izuku's bloodwork from his physical, so she couldn't give him a definite diet yet, but went over general nutrition and dietary restrictions, and, gods– just everything about Shiketsu was nuts.
(Where on earth did they get all the funding?)
So, yeah, he was exhausted.
The person in the room above him sneezed.
Izuku groaned as he covered his head with his pillow.
He should text his mom. Or call her. But at least text her.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Yoarashi:
Yo! Where are you? Dinner's being served in the cafeteria soon.
Izuku groaned again. He felt bad for blowing Yoarashi off during lunch, especially since they had planned on taking those pictures– which they had rain-checked for tomorrow before class.
(Well, Izuku didn't actually blow him off. Yoarashi had texted asking where he was, and Izuku had said he didn't want to go to the cafeteria, but encouraged Yoarashi to stay and make friends. But he still felt bad.)
Izuku:
Sorry again, really not feeling cafeterias right now.
(Or ever.)
Yoarashi:
I could bring something to you, if you'd like?
(Oh. That was really sweet of him, actually.)
Before Izuku replied, Yoarashi's text bubble appeared and disappeared a few more times. Then—
Yoarashi:
Takeshi-kun and Shidori-kun are wondering if you'd like to sit with us in the courtyard? Shidori-kun wasn't a fan of the cafeteria during lunch either.
Izuku didn't know who 'Shidori-kun' was– and honestly, he really wasn't feeling up for more social interaction– but his stomach growled loud enough to make the decision for him.
Izuku:
If you could grab something for me, that'd be great. Where should I meet you?
The night air was surprisingly cool against his skin, almost chilled. He sort of regretted shedding the upper half of his uniform before leaving the dorm, but he wasn't the only one who had.
There was no need to wear the full uniform outside of school hours, after all. He still looked fairly sharp, solid colored t-shirt tucked into his slacks, hat left behind in his room.
(The breeze was cold against his head. He wondered how long it would take before he adjusted to the undercut.)
(At least it looked nice.)
He tried to reign in his awareness as he made it to the bench, but anxiety thrummed beneath his skin. A bird sat on a tree near him– too large to be one of the birds he saw during the day, and the sun was already hidden below the horizon. An owl, perhaps? He wasn't sure if those lived in the area.
Three upperclassmen were across the courtyard. Two of them laughed.
His phone buzzed again. This time, though, he couldn't help but smile when he saw the message.
Mom:
How was move-in day?
Izuku:
Overwhelming, but good. Lots of information
Shiketsu is really cool
Mom:
Good!
Make any new friends?
"Yo, Midoriya-kun!"
Izuku didn't have to look up to know it was Yoarashi jogging towards him, the bentos in his hands fighting for their lives, but scrambled to his feet regardless.
(Well, at least he wouldn't have to mix any of his food himself. He just hoped that anything that wasn't supposed to be mixed survived the journey.)
Trailing behind Yoarashi was Takeshi and a boy with white-tipped brown hair and sunglasses despite the darkness, whom Izuku assumed was Shidori. He was a bit surprised to see that his awareness didn't lie, and Shidori had a cane in front of him– the kind blind people use to make sure their path was clear.
Yoarashi reached him first, obviously. Izuku couldn't help but flinch slightly as Yoarashi thrust one of his hands towards him.
(He's been training, he felt the tug in his awareness as Yoarashi moved, he could dodge, but all he did was freeze, his breath catching in his throat.)
Yoarashi was only offering Izuku a bento, though.
(Izuku wasn't sure what else he had been expecting.)
(This was the first time he's attended school in a whole year, but his past still ached like a bruise.)
(What happened the last time someone his age ran up to him?)
(Was it Katsuki? Was it someone else?)
(Did it matter? It ended in bruises.)
"I like your haircut!" Yoarashi boomed.
"Oh, uh, thanks."
If Yoarashi noticed Izuku's strange reaction– or the way Izuku's hand trembled when he reached for the offered bento, or the way Izuku's shy smile wobbled– he was kind enough not to say anything about it as Takeshi and Shidori caught up.
"Hey, Midoriya-kun," Takeshi greeted. "This is—"
"Shidori Yuuto. Nice to meet you." Shidori bowed– nearly a perfect fifteen degrees, drilled into them just weeks before– as he spoke, his cane held slightly to the side to give himself room.
Izuku bowed back, just a touch too deeply.
(He could feel Amano's disappointed stare bore into his soul from the ether.)
"Midoriya Izuku. Nice to meet you, too, Shidori-kun. I hope we get along."
Shidori's lips quirked upwards slightly. "Huh. Most people don't bow when they meet me."
The group froze.
"Can you... see?" Yoarashi asked slowly.
Behind his sunglasses, Shidori's brows raised. "Legally, I'm not allowed to confirm nor deny."
A beat passed.
"That was a joke," Shidori finally said, moving towards the bench like he knew exactly where it was. "Now, c'mon, food. I'm starving."
(Izuku jumped as the owl sitting above them suddenly screeched before flying away.)
"How long do we have until curfew?" Takeshi asked, settling down onto the ground.
Izuku glanced at his phone, his text chat with his mom still open on his screen.
He clicked his phone off. "Over an hour."
"Well, let's eat!" Yoarashi said, barely managing to sit down beside Takeshi before launching into a grand tale about his journey to Shiketsu from Tokyo.
Izuku let the noise wash over him; Yoarashi could get a bit loud at times, but for the most part, he was just energetic, and Takeshi would egg him on by making the appropriate noises at regular intervals. Beside Izuku, Shidori seemed mostly content to sit and listen as well.
(Izuku was also surprised at how adeptly Shidori was using his chopsticks, but instantly felt guilty for assuming that he'd struggle. The only difference between the two of them was Shidori tapping the sides of his food with his chopsticks before grabbing it.)
(He wasn't sure he could call anyone at Shiketsu a friend yet, but they seemed like good people.)
"I AM HERE! I AM HERE! I AM HERE! I AM HERE!"
Izuku shut his alarm off with a soft groan, blinking sleepily against the soft morning light that snuck its way in through his blinds.
He laid in his bed for a moment longer as he felt the dorm slowly come to life around him. The boy in the room next to him literally rolled out of bed, hitting the ground with a thud loud enough that Izuku heard it. Above him, someone was already brushing their teeth.
(Down a ways, he could feel Yoarashi, Takeshi, and Shidori in their respective bedrooms, their unique signatures already familiar to his senses. Shidori didn't turn on any lights as he got ready for the day. Takeshi pulled himself out of bed and immediately started doing crunches. Yoarashi sat up in his bed so suddenly and stiffly that Izuku nearly jumped.)
It was another moment before he was awake enough for the anxiety to set in. It curled in his gut, taking hold of his stomach and shaking it around like a soda can until Izuku felt nauseous.
First day of classes.
Nothing terrifying about that, right?
Right?
(Tell that to his pounding heart.)
He let out a slow breath as he finally climbed out of bed, and did his best to tune everything else out as he went through his daily routine slowly, sleep clinging to him stubbornly.
(A year of not going to school had left him with the habit of not leaving his bed until 8am most days– a very reasonable time, in his opinion, but a habit he was deeply regretting. Even though he had fallen asleep at a decent time, he wanted nothing more than to curl back up beneath his covers.)
He was still bleary when he finally stumbled out of his room, but he looked put together well enough in his uniform.
(Thank god it didn't have a tie, or else it would be a different story.)
"Morning, Midoriya-kun!" Yoarashi called from the kitchen. The couple of students that were in the common room groaned at his volume, but he paid them no mind. "Would you like some eggs and rice?"
Izuku couldn't help but smile slightly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."
"Anytime!"
Izuku made his way towards the table quietly, letting his head hit it with a quiet thunk as soon as he was seated.
(One of the kids in the common room glanced at him, but quickly went back to scrolling on his phone.)
Izuku let out a slow breath as he focused his awareness on Yoarashi's movement in the kitchen, trying to tune out the other thirty-eight people in the building with him.
(Yoarashi's pulse tapped softly in Izuku's fingers.)
He was completely unprepared for the wave of homesickness that came with the smell of food. He hoped his mom was handling his absence alright.
(If he pretended really hard, it was almost like he was still at home and his mom was cooking in the kitchen.)
(She was just wearing stilts. And gained a bunch of muscle using anabolic steroids. And might've done cocaine, considering how energetically she was moving around.)
(Okay, so Yoarashi was nothing like his mom. It was still oddly comforting to focus on the way he bobbed his head to an imaginary song as he waited for the eggs to cook.)
"Hey, hey, did you see the news?" one of the boys in the common room murmured. "All Might is teaching at Yuuei!"
Izuku's head shot up.
"What, like, he's gonna teach a seminar?" another boy asked.
"No, Yuuei just announced that he's a teacher! He's already on the website and everything, look!"
Izuku pulled out his phone, navigating the Yuuei's website so quickly it was embarrassing.
(He'd visited the site so many times in the past that he had it bookmarked.)
Sure enough, the homepage opened with "Yuuei is proud to announce All Might as our newest teacher!"
(Shit. Maybe he should've tried for Yuuei, then.)
(Distantly, he wondered if Katsuki even made it in. What if he had avoided the school for nothing? What if he could've been one of All Might's students, without worrying about getting harassed?)
He looked up as Yoarashi approached him, a bowl of food in each hand, and a pensive expression on his face. He set one of the bowls in front of Izuku as he sat.
"Let's eat well," Yoarashi said, quieter than Izuku expected.
Izuku echoed him before turning his attention to his food– and was immediately caught off guard by the fact that it wasn't just eggs and rice, but an assortment of vegetables as well.
(When did he even make everything?)
Yoarashi noticed his hesitation instantly. "Sorry, I should've asked about your preferred vegetables. I can make you some plain eggs and rice instead, if you want?"
"No, no, this is perfect," Izuku said quickly, looking up at Yoarashi to smile. "Thank you for the food."
Yoarashi let out a sigh of relief. "Enjoy."
They ate quickly– and, surprisingly, quietly. Izuku kept an eye on the time, each minute passing like a stone in his stomach, but couldn't help glancing at Yoarashi every now and then.
Yoarashi was... oddly still, aside from tapping his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl in between bites. But more than that, his expression was pinched, his eyebrows knit together as he stared at his food.
Finally, Izuku asked, "Hey, you okay?"
Yoarashi's eyes snapped up. He swallowed the food in his mouth. "Yeah, sorry," he said, his smile tight. "Just... thinking."
Izuku nodded, looking back down at his own food.
"I turned down my acceptance to Yuuei," Yoarashi blurted.
Izuku's attention snapped back up, his mouth falling open. "You... what?"
Yoarashi winced. "I..."
Before he could say more, Takeshi walked into the common room, red hair still sticking up and jacket slung over his shoulder. "Morning, guys!" he greeted, making his way to the kitchen. "Yo, are these veggies up for grabs?"
It was like a switch flipped in Yoarashi. He sat up straighter, his smile coming back brighter than before. "By all means!" he replied enthusiastically. "Make sure you leave some in case Shidori-kun wants any, though."
Takeshi gave a thumbs up.
"Oh, right! Midoriya-kun, did you still want me to take pictures of you in your uniform?"
Izuku nodded, a bit caught off guard from the mood shift. "If you still don't mind, yes, please. I know we were supposed to do that yesterday..."
"Don't worry about it! I'm happy to help."
"What's this about pictures?" Takeshi asked, coming to sit beside them.
"Midoriya-kun's mom wants some pictures of him in uniform, so I'm gonna take some before we leave for class," Yoarashi answered, oblivious to the way Izuku ducked his head, ears turning pink.
Takeshi grinned as he looked at Izuku. Izuku's flush deepened.
But, blessedly, Takeshi said, "Neat. You mind taking some of me as well? My mom does pictures every year, too. We were gonna wait til break, but sending some would be a nice surprise for her," with a shrug.
"Absolutely!"
(Behind the steady stream of people trickling out of their rooms– some stopping in the kitchen or the common room, some leaving the dorm immediately– Izuku felt Shidori open his door, the slide of his cane on the ground echoing in Izuku’s teeth as he moved down the hallway.)
"Good morning, Shidori-kun!" Yoarashi greeted as soon as he walked in. "There's rice and vegetables in the kitchen if you'd like any. Should I grab it for you?"
Shidori, meanwhile, who was mid-yawn, shook his head. "Morning, Yoarashi-san. Thanks, but I can grab it myself."
"Yo, you want pictures of you in your uniform?" Takeshi asked as Shidori walked past. "Apparently we're having a photoshoot."
"Ah, yes, pictures," Shidori deadpanned as he reached towards a cabinet. "The ones I will enjoy looking at for the rest of my life."
"The cabinet with the bowls is one to the right," Izuku said, not looking up.
"Thanks," Shidori sighed, adjusting his position. His hands were a bit clumsy as he opened the cabinet and felt for the bowls, but he grabbed one without much trouble. "Anyway, yeah, pictures would be good. My parents'll be over the moon."
Despite the trouble he had locating the bowls, he managed to turn himself towards the rice cooker and vegetables with no problems. His hands were significantly less clumsy as he scooped rice into his bowl. When he grabbed the vegetables, though—
(A small bird that had been sitting by the window suddenly took off, spooked.)
—he swore as his grip slipped suddenly, the bowl clattering back onto the counter loudly.
"You okay?" Takeshi asked.
"Fine," Shidori replied, voice tight in a way that Izuku couldn't quite parse. His hands were uncertain again as he felt for the bowl, then double checked the position of his own bowl before scooping some in.
Izuku blinked slowly, head tilting to the side.
(There was an owl in the tree when Shidori knew Izuku bowed.)
(There was a bird outside the window, and then there wasn't.)
"Can you see when there's birds nearby?" Izuku blurted, only to clap his hands over his mouth a breath later. "I'm so sorry, that was so rude. Ignore me."
To his horror, Shidori stiffened briefly, but he slowly relaxed again as he made his way to the table, almost-smiling towards his bowl. "Those are state secrets, Midoriya-san. Come back when you've figured out exactly how my quirk works."
Izuku's hand twitched towards his backpack, itching for a notebook as theories swirled in his head, but before he could move—
"Shoot, it's almost eight," Yoarashi exclaimed, looking at his phone. "C'mon, we gotta hurry if we want time for pictures!"
The photoshoot didn't take long, but there were four people trying to get pictures. By the time they were ready to go, they only had minutes before class started.
(Izuku blames Yoarashi for insisting they do hero poses. It was an endeavor that led to plenty of laughter, though, so no real harm done.)
Still, he couldn't even send an accompanying message as he sent the pictures to his mom– or read her reply– as the four of them made a mad dash for their homeroom, trying desperately not to be late on the first day.
(And true to his insistence, Shidori could not only keep up with them, but didn't so much as stumble until they got inside the building. Izuku had so many questions.)
They split off in the hallway– Shidori and Yoarashi headed to class 1-B, Takeshi staying with Izuku for class 1-A.
They paused in front of the door, panting hard.
(The seconds hand on the clock inched closer to the end of the minute.)
Takeshi reached for the door handle with a shaking hand. "Ready?"
No.
Izuku adjusted his hat, then nodded resolutely. "Ready."