Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Izuku expected high school to be nothing but a different flavor of middle school. The same bullying, the same power structures, the same teachers – he’d expected nothing changed except for Hiro.

“Midoriya-kun, what’re you getting for lunch today?” Urakaka asks. “I brought my own!” She holds up a cute lunchbox wrapped in a lovely cloth, and Izuku stares at the bundle of pink in front of him.

Hiro is rolling about in his mind, groaning.

Hungry… Hungry…

“Sorry, lemme get my lunch as well!”

“Huh?”

Izuku digs through his bag and pulls out his own lunchbox. Urakaka’s eyes widen as she stares at the amount of food Midoriya has packed. His lunchbox is at least three times the height of hers.

“Woah, you have a big appetite, Midoriya-kun!”

“Ah, well, Body+ raises my metabolism, so I end up needing to literally ‘eat for two’. I’m kinda worried about how I have such a high basal metabolic rate, since that could be really dangerous in a survival situation, and I don’t want to be the person using up all our resources- “

“Sorry, you two. I still need to wait in line at the cafeteria,” Iida says as he sees his friends already carrying their lunches.

Izuku smothers himself, to not interrupt Iida. Meanwhile, Urakaka pokes Iida in the arm for fun.

“Aww, Midoriya-kun was telling me about his Quirk! Keep talking while we head to the cafeteria!”

“Huh?! Ah, uh!” he stumbles out of his seat following the other two. “So, uh, super high basal metabolic rate. The fact that it’s so high sorta makes me think that Body+ is more than just a strength-augmenting Quirk. Even when I’m not using Body+, I get super, duper hungry, which implies that there is some sort of physical or metabolic change that is constantly going on in my body, even if it doesn’t look like it.”

“Very ‘mutant-esque’,” Iida notes.

“Yeah, you got it!” Izuku exclaims, his eyes shining. Without thinking he leans towards Iida, stepping on the boy’s feet.

Dread freezes his stomach, and his fingertips grow numb seeing what he’s done. Hiro is jolted out of its starved stupor, it’s awareness adding pinpricks of stress to the cold fear already swirling in Izuku’s system.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, that was stupid of me, I know I’m careless, but I promise I’ll try to be better next time, I swear, I’m so sorry-!”

“I-It’s fine, Midoriya-kun!” Iida exclaims, his arms waving about their small group. “These are just our indoor shoes, and it didn’t hurt.”

Izuku stares back, wondering what that lump in his throat is. He’s searching Iida’s face for any sort of crease in the skin, a single twitch at the corner of the eyes that could signal how angry the other boy is.

I think you’re okay, Izuku. There’s nothing to be scared about. Izuku, listen to my voice.

Even if Hiro is saying the truth, it’s hard to believe. Their pace is slowed down to an ambling hobble, with how much Izuku wants to drag behind Iida and Urakaka. It’s only until they reach the cafeteria that the boy seems to calm down and finally accept Hiro’s quiet rambling in the back of his mind.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Iida-kun! I slowed everyone down!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Iida insists, though the way he hurries over to the lunch line doesn’t reassure Izuku.

“Listen, you’re fine – I don’t think Iida-kun minded at all. Sometimes accidents are just accidents,” Urakaka tells him. Her fingertips tap him on the back, small and gentle. The careful contact calms Izuku, and he nods.

“Okay… yeah, let’s find a seat for all three of us.”

Izuku spots where their other classmates are seated, but Izuku also notices Kacchan surrounded by a new group of friends their first day of school.

“Over here, over here,” a girl with long, black hair says, gesturing them over.

“Thanks, Tsuyu-chan!” Urakaka exclaims, taking the seat that the girl is patting.

Izuku waits until Urakaka is settled in, then moves around to the other side of the table to sit across from the other two.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he whispers to Hiro. The Quirk’s excitement is palpable, swimming in his mind the moment he starts unwrapping his bento.

It’s three levels of a meal, with each the height of his palm – the top is miso soup, the second layer is side dishes, and the final layer is a thick level of seasoned rice, with two filling-stuffed rice balls as well for good measure. Tsuyu takes a special interest in Izuku’s lunch, beyond just the amount laid out.

“Karaage, rolled omelet, salad, kinpira gobo – Midoriya-kun, did you make your own lunch?”

“A-ah, Tsuyu-chan…? Yes, I made it myself.”

“It looks delicious, ribbit. I sometimes help my parents pack lunches for my siblings. Do you have any tips?”

“Tips…”

Most of their experience is gleaned from the memories of Hiro’s former hosts, and with how busy some of them were, the Quirk was eager to try out new skills and help Izuku out.

Food prep, Hiro supplies.

“Food prep… I don’t mean cooking everything at the beginning of the week, but more like… cutting up everything and having ingredients prepped and ready for use. You’re sacrificing freshness for convenience though, especially for things like garlic, ginger, and scallions. There’s also, um,” Izuku stumbles over his words.

Supermarket shortcuts and gadgets.

“Gimmicky stuff isn’t always gimmicky, and it’s okay to take shortcuts. You know, frozen food, or pre-seasoned frying flour for karaage.”

Izuku fiddles with his chopsticks, trying to make himself hungry again, for Hiro’s sake.

“That’s all useful to know. I’ll keep that in mind, ribbit. You’re a good chef, Midoriya-kun.”

“N-Nah, it’s all practice!”

“I’m still surprised at how good you are at cooking, Midoriya-kun!” Urakaka says, doing her own share of marveling over the meal. “It’s almost a three-course meal by itself.”

“I guess it is a three-course meal if you add in the fruit,” Midoriya says, pulling out a small container of apple slices with blackberries tossed in.

“Woah! Fancy.”

The boy tries his best to not shy away from the girls, especially now that his fears aren’t chewing on his stomach. He’s gone from only talking to one girl his entire life to now talking to two of them, having a hopefully engaging conversation. Hiro is busy marinating Izuku’s brain in quiet happiness that the boy is having such a good interaction with his classmates, when its instincts startle.

Izuku reacts to Hiro’s shivers running down his spine, gaze snapping to the left. His eyes lock with mismatched irises, and while Izuku feels nothing, Hiro’s worries ripple under his skin.

Todoroki is staring.

Izuku’s mouth opens and closes, before he shoves the bowl of sides in between the two of them.

“Do you wanna share, Todoroki-kun?”

The boy glances down at the roughage, before shaking his head in slow twists from side to side.

“I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

Izuku peeks at his classmate from the corner of his vision. Todoroki is still openly staring at his three-tiered bento, his own school-bought lunch neglected. Nothing seems wrong with U.A.’s food – rather the school has a luxurious approach to its lunch fare, despite only collecting average food prices. He’s certain that the bowl of hot udon that Todoroki has in front of him is far tastier than whatever Izuku could whip up on his own.

Yet why does Todoroki stare at Izuku’s bento? This cold meal that reeks of whatever domesticity that he’s been able to create with Hiro?

Izuku takes the lid of his bento and puts some of the omelet and karaage onto it. A few apple slices and berries garnish the edges before Izuku pushes the makeshift plate towards Todoroki.

To his relief, the peace offering is nibbled at.

“Thank you,” Todoroki mutters. His eyes widen with such slight movements that Izuku can’t tell the difference until he stares at Todoroki for a good ten seconds.

Izuku, you can’t leave him hanging.

“Th-thank you!” he splutters. Izuku’s teeth nearly catch on his tongue, but a last-minute armoring by Hiro prevents him from chomping off the tip.

He groans as he realizes it’s not even the right combination of words.

“I mean, you’re welcome.”

Trying to shake off the embarrassment, Izuku digs into his meal, with Hiro almost jumping out his skin as he fills their stomach. The soup is savory, while the seaweed and green onions provide a satisfying crunch. His side dishes pair well with the rice, and the tuna-mayo rice balls take the final edge off his hunger. From there he can pick at the fruits.

“Thank you for finding a seat- done already?!”

Iida sits next to Izuku, staring at his empty bento. By contrast, Tsuyu and Urakaka are only a third of the way through their meals.

“Mmn? I hope I don’t look too gross while eating! I’m so sorry!”

The last time Izuku ate with other people was with his upperclassmen a few weeks ago. They didn’t say anything, but Mirio and his friends are so nice that what if they didn’t tell him that he eats like a slob?

“No, you’re fine, ribbit. Very neat – just fast,” Tsuyu explains to Izuku.

“Whew, I’m glad.”

“Iida-kun, did you know that Midoriya-kun cooks his own lunch?” Urakaka asks.

“Really? It’s a good habit and skill to have.”

“Maybe Midoriya-kun could make a food blog, ribbit?”

Izuku feels his muscles tighten without thinking. All his social media is tightly guarded, lest Kacchan and his lackeys get another avenue of attack.

“That might take too much time…” he says, giving the most believable excuse possible.

“True,” Urakaka mulls, “I’ve seen those pictures and videos before. They seem kinda annoying to do if all you wanna do is cook something and eat.”

Izuku peeks down the table at how Kacchan lounges in his seat and eats his lunch, surrounded by a group of extroverted, loud-talking students. Kacchan will be good for them, since he’s a good student and he’s very responsible. Hiro feels Izuku’s praise for the other boy bubble up in their stomach, sparkling like soda. A bitter taste from the Quirk spreads over Izuku’s tongue.

The boy barely managed to escape punishment from Bakugou Katsuki yesterday with Aizawa-sensei’s intervention, but today’s practical after lunch is with All-Might. While Hiro respects Eraserhead and has seen the action the man takes to support Izuku, what he’s observes from All-Might is lacking.

Nothing but an offer to train, a meal, and an attempt to destroy a dream.

All-Might may be Izuku’s hero, but Hiro can’t approve.

“Hello, young heroes in training! It’s great to finally meet you all!’ All-Might belts out.

His large, imposing figure towers over them all, but that Number One smile softens his entire figure, putting them all at ease.

“Today is your first practical class at U.A., and the beginning of your hero’s journeys!”

Big words for someone who’s our middle of the week practical, Hiro mumbles. Your journey started the moment you wanted to be a hero, Izuku.

The Quirk’s distaste makes Izuku’s ears tingle, so he rubs at them, shushing Hiro with soft murmurs.

“But first! Your costumes are done! Report back in your new gear!”

Costumes.

Izuku feels the excitement rising in his throat and fidgets to compensate, pacing, and spinning around as he goes to pick up his outfit from the staff near the lockers. The flimsy plastic that his costume is packed in feels like an oxymoron compared to what’s inside and he clutches it with white knuckles. Hiro only feeds into their energy, buzzing about like a bee in his skull.

“Hiro, you’re gonna make me yell!” he whispers under his breath.

I’m excited too! Let’s go put it on!

It’s a bit annoying changing in the bathroom again, but to their relief no one badgers him about it.

When the last buckle is snapped on, Izuku peers at himself in the mirror.

A hooded jumpsuit that’s short sleeved and cut off mid-thigh. Layered underneath are compression sleeves and socks with strategic padding, as well as a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck and bicycle shorts. Hopefully, they won’t need to spill the secret so soon, but just in case, there are patches of open skin where Hiro can quickly flow out and protect Izuku in case of an emergency.

It’s an outfit that will hopefully stay practical, even after the threat against Hiro has been dealt with.

“Hmmm…”

Woah, you look super cool, Izuku!

“Uh, I dunno… I…”

Izuku looks lumpy in the jumpsuit, his arms and legs like sticks jutting out. Even with the compression sleeves and socks, the limbs feel exposed. The only times he’s ever worn tees and shorts around others have been while training with Mirio and All-Might – never around so many people like an entire class.

Runs still make him gasp for air, and his muscles ache during weight training. Compared to his classmates, Izuku’s body is still far behind.

The self-doubt drifts over them like a mourning shroud, and Hiro works quickly to push it away. Whenever the Quirk isn’t fast enough, the sadness lingers and hooks its claws into the boy. By then there’s nothing it can do but offer some companionship while the two wait it out.

They stand there, listening and waiting for everyone to leave.

C’mon, let’s go see the others.

“O-Oh yeah… Yeah! I wanna see!”

He runs out, lagging behind. There are so many colors and styles, and Hiro works hard to boost their positivity, hoping Izuku doesn’t linger too long on his weak sense of self-esteem.

Izuku sees his friends and runs over, bobbing from foot to foot.

“Woah, so cool!”

Iida looks like a literal knight in shining armor, and Urakaka’s spacesuit influences are clear as can be, the pink going perfectly with her honey brown hair. He ambles around them, gawking at their designs.

“You guys are so creative!”

Iida rubs the back of his head, sheepish.

“Well, to be honest, my brother found someone to help with the design.”

To his surprise, Izuku looks even more impressed, observing Iida’s costume with a new glimmer in his eye.

“That’s super cool, getting a pro to help out! Did someone help you out too, Urakaka-chan?”

“Haha, nope! This is a one-hundred-percent Urakaka Ochako original!”

“Everyone looks really amazing,” Izuku says, trying to stop his head from swiveling too much. Hiro can’t help but agree – there’s an incredibly personal flair to each costume the Quirk sees.

“You say that, but your own design is also suuuuuuuuper Midoriya-esque!” Urakaka squeals.

“Yes, it’s utilitarian with some flair all comes together for a- “

Tenya trips over his words once he takes a closer look at Midoriya’s costume. Those tight compression sleeves and socks expose his classmate’s body type, and what’s revealed is a ridiculous amount of muscle. Sure, Midoriya is no Kirishima, but all the boy said was that he did morning runs and strength training.

Midoriya is short, lean, and strong.

“Uh, Midoriya-kun… You said you do some running and two hours of strength training, tops?”

“Yeah.”

Izuku doesn’t include Mirio-senpai and All-Might’s training regime, nor does he say anything about putting in extra hours for the Dagorabah clean-up and synchronization training with Hiro.

“Sure…”

Midoriya is lying to his face and hoping no says a thing. You don’t get muscles like that just from a bit of running and weightlifting. Tenya has seen the ridiculous amounts of training that his brother does, and it’s his own, similar routine that’s gotten him the strength needed for controlling his Quirk.

He’s so busy being a bit peeved about Midoriya’s dishonesty, that it takes him a moment to realize why his friend doesn’t want to tell him everything.

Tenya was the one who verbally attacked Midoriya during the entrance exam. Sure, the other has agreed to hang out with him during the weekend, but it can’t be helped if there’s still some awkwardness between the two of them. He also gets the sense that Midoriya worries about a lot of things.

Tenya doesn’t have the right to badger Midoriya.

Izuku blinks at how little Iida says, despite the boy’s penchant for impassioned speeches, but Hiro’s confusion is interrupted by Urakaka.

“All-Might as our teacher today – Can’t wait!”

“Yeah, me too!”

There’s a twinge of something dark trailing out from Hiro, but it’s not scary or malicious. It curls in their gut, making Izuku want to fidget.

Unease?

“It’s gonna be fine,” Izuku murmurs to Hiro, patting their chest. It feels a bit strange to be on the opposite side, to be the one comforting instead of comforted. That disgusting, distorted part of him is beginning to show again. The happiness he feels in being able to soothe his friend, despite Hiro obviously not feeling well. Izuku forces down his happiness, not wanting to confuse the Quirk.

That and he’d rather not be so shameful in front of Hiro.

“You all look like proper heroes-in-training! I’m honored to help you all along on this journey to hero-dom, and I wish you best of luck in your first practical. Our exercise today is, ‘Capture the Flag!”

All-Might goes into a bombastic explanation of what the plan is.

Villain and hero teams of two.

A U.A. training field designed to resemble an abandoned building complex.

A fake bomb placed at the top floor, to be guarded by the villains and retrieved by the heroes.

Deceptively simple, but Izuku’s brain immediately begins breaking down the exercise. Possible CQC, unknown aspects of Quirks, synergies between pairs, and the sheer difference in strategy depending on what team you’re given.

After all, if you’re a villain, you need to defend the fort and protect the bomb. If you’re a hero, it’s an infiltration, if not open invasion of the building. All-Might is being incredibly kind for their first practical. Both types of teams will be in situations that heroes often face, and the fact that the building is “abandoned”, means that collateral damage isn’t something to worry about.

Hiro can feel Izuku’s mind moving at top-notch speeds, and it feeds the boy some of its processing to help with thinking through things.

“In this case Tsyu-chan would be the best partner because her Quirk is so versatile and lacks any real weaknesses, Urakaka-chan’s Zero-Gravity is undeniably useful for transportation; Iida-kun’s speed is hindered by the small spaces but can we make a loophole by going up the walls? No, speed doesn’t automatically mean different skills, I don’t know if he’s trained in parkour- oh! But Kirishima-kun would be amazing for defense as a villain, so who would be best paired with him for mobility and offensive- “

There’s only one person he knows well enough that fits that profile.

Kacchan.

Izuku, the pairs are being announced.

He winces as he feels Hiroclean the fear out of his system, forcing him back into a state as close to normal as possible.

“Midoriya-kun, was what you said accurate?”

He startles and turns to see Tsuyu-chan looking at him with large eyes.

“Ahhh, oh my god! Was I mumbling that loud?!”

He scans his classmates, and notices more than half are staring at him. Izuku whimpers and breaks eye contact with them, rubbing at the hidden scars on his arm.

“It’s fine, it’s kind of charming,” she reassures.

“My bad, you were asking a question too! Um, yeah… I think your Quirk is super amazing. You have both close quarters and ranged skills, your mobility is impressive, and you’re smart too. Out of this entire class I think you’re the most balanced.”

“Thank you, ribbit. That’s really reassuring to me.”

“Y-you’re welcome.”

Kacchan scoffs from the other side of the class.

“You guys really gonna listen to that nerd? Listen, I’ve been hearing Deku mumble crazy bullshit for almost ten years. Don’t think so highly of yourself just because he says something.”

“K-Kacchan! You notice it too though, right?! Tsuyu-chan has a super cool Quirk, and she’s amazing too!”

The boy glares at him with scarlet eyes, and Izuku steels his feet in the dirt. He might not be anything special, but he can’t watch Kacchan badmouth a classmate of theirs. Not to mention, how can Kacchan become an amazing hero if he underestimates his allies or enemies?!

His heart may be stuttering at an uneven pace and cold sweat is beading on his back, but Hiro wraps a pair of green arms around his torso, covered up by the jumpsuit. The contact is just what Izuku needs to not break out into tears.

“Listen, I’m all up for some friendly rivalry, but now is not the time for that!” All-Might declares, clapping his hands.

The loud noise, infused with a Quirk snaps them into attention, their consciousness forced back like a snapping rubber band.

‘Friendly rivalry’?! Is he blind?! Hiro seethes, its arms tightening around Izuku in a protective ring.

“Rivalry would be good for Kacchan, maybe?” Izuku whispers.

Not if it gets you hurt!

The first few rounds go by, and Izuku watches in awe as his classmates are able to work together so well in random pairings. Tsuyu’s skin no longer looks dry, and she’s happy to work with her partner, Ojiro, the two of them gaining a flawless victory in the process. Izuku watches each match, eyes scanning every screen as he slots the pieces together in his mind.

Izuku, your classmate isn’t utilizing the pipes.

“That’s true, maybe his spatial awareness needs improvement or there’s something else? Limitation to his electricity? No, electricity is electricity – the limitation must be with him- “

Iida and Urakaka stare as Midoriya mutters, his classmates inching in closer as he observes and analyzes with Hiro.

“Kaminari-kun is going to be sacrificed.”

Right as he says that, Kaminari is captured by Yaoyorozu, giving Kirishima the gap needed to charge through defenses and claim victory.

That’s not going to work.

“It won’t?”

Ashido overwhelms Kirishima with waves of acid.

“I not gonna let you… I guess?! Does that sound ‘villain’ enough?!” she shrieks, almost drowning her classmate.

She may be panicking, but her panic in this situation is to her favor, since she’s throwing her everything at Kirishima, while the timer runs down.

“Villains win!” All-Might announces.

Ashido lets up the moment the buzzer rings, and she’s profusely apologizing as she helps her classmate up. Yaoyorozu congratulates Ashido with far less pomp and circumstance than the alien-quirk girl. She allows herself a small smile, just big enough for a lady raised with class and privilege.

“Um, Yaoyorozu-san…!” Izuku calls out.

She looks over, then walks to their side.

“Yes? Also, chan is fine. We’re classmates after all.”

“Um, Yaoyorozu-ch-chan,” Izuku begins, as Hiro also listens in with curiosity, “why did you choose to be vanguard instead of rearguard? I-I mean, you both still won! I just, um…”

She blinks, then waves at Ashido, who’s busy talking with their other classmates.

“To be honest, I suggested it because I wanted to practice offensive strategies. Ashido-chan agreed once I told her why.”

“Oh, that’s so smart!”

“We’re in school, after all. I want to get the most learning out of every situation.”

“Yeah, that’s so true!”

Momo almost wants to shield her eyes from how much Midoriya is beaming at her, but she also appreciates how willing he is to ask her questions outright. It’s so different from before, when everyone held her at arm’s length because of her family’s prestigious lineage. Midoriya’s so honest and excited, and she’s acutely reminded of a puppy she had when she was little.

“I see school as a place where we can experiment, you know? After all, trying out new things in the real world is too dangerous.”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

Midoriya shrinks in on himself for a second.

“Next match up!”

The screen flashes like a slot machine, and four of their student ID pictures swing up.

“Hero team: Urakaka Ochako and Midoriya Izuku! On the villain team!”

Momo watches as she sees the red drain from Midoriya’s face, a wave of paper-white melting down his face like candle wax under the skin. A violent tremor starts in his hands, the metal bits and ends on his costume jingling out a discordant tune.

She pinches her earlobe as if she’s Jirou, blinking at the sudden change in her classmate.

“Bakugou Katsuki and Iida Tenya!”

Momo watches over Midoriya, frowning as the world seems to disappear from his consciousness.

Izuku is gasping, Hiro hugging him under his suit, sending wave after wave of warmth and support.

Izuku, Izuku, Izuku please, listen to my voice! Izuku, please! Izuku, I swear I won’t let him hurt you!

Hiro’s voice slices through his mental noise, a firm hand dragging him out from the muck. It’s slow work, but the shock of people touching him throws him out completely.

“Midoriya-kun, are you alright?”

“Y-Yaoyorozu-chan?”

“Midoriya-kun! Are you with us?!” Urakaka asks, clutching his hands. Iida and Yaoyorozu each have a hand on his shoulders, giving him these strange looks that Izuku doesn’t recognize.

Their eyes are narrowed, but there’s no anger there. Lips are pulled down, but not scowling.

They’re worried, Izuku. We’re worried about you.

The boy winces as Hiro’s emotions fill him, that stabbing emotion that he’s been so intimate with for almost a decade. He doesn’t want to make anyone feel like this – it’s horrible.

“I’m fine, I’m okay now. Th-Thank you, everyone,” he says, pulling on a smile again.

For some reason it doesn’t smooth out the expression on Iida’s face – Urakaka and Yaoyorozu only lighten up by a shade.

“Midoriya-kun, you mentioned that I would be limited in close quarters. Do you have any suggestions?” Iida asks in a weak attempt to distract his classmate.

“No way – Midoriya-kun is on my team! I can’t let you give him any hints!” Urakaka teases. Midoriya’s hands are so cold and shaking so much in her grasp, she wonders if he even notices her holding them.

“Information control is one of the key tenants of heroism,” Yaoyorozu agrees with a smile.

What an interesting crowd, Hiro notes, and Izuku can feel the Quirk smile.

Izuku chatters with them again, and like that, their prep time dwindles away.

As they move into the building, he fiddles with his gloves, pulling up his socks and arm sleeves as they keep slipping down.

“Urakaka-chan. I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears!” she whispers.

He blinks at her, awestruck that she’s so open to listening.

Not now – we gotta focus, Izuku!

“Yeah! Um, Urakaka-chan…” he takes a deep breath, digging deep inside him to claw out as much courage as he can. He exhales, and with it, as much of his worries as possible.

“Urakaka-chan… can you do this?”

“DEKUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!” Kacchan screams.

I swear I won’t let you burn him again!

A punch is thrown, but Izuku grabs the boy’s arm and flips him over his shoulder. He doesn’t hesitate, smashing Kacchan’s body down into the concrete. The afterimage of a host is already burned into his memory.

The man that had been given to Hiro was Quirkless, with only a handful of friends, yet he’d learned to survive in this world by polishing his body into a diamond of technique and strength. Hiro and Izuku practiced over and over, burning the man’s skills into their body.

We won’t let your sacrifice be in vain, Kei-san, Izuku thinks, feeling the impact reverberate through Kacchan’s skeleton. Hiro’s anger towards Kacchan muffles Izuku’s fear.

It’s the only way he can even function right now.

“A right hook. It’s always a right hook.”

He leans over Kacchan’s groaning body, staring down with eyes that are fluorescent green in the shadows of the building.

“You always throw a right hook first.”

Kacchan flings out an explosion, but Izuku has already spun around on the sole of his foot. The move is graceful and the boy flows like water away from the attack.

Thank you, Umi-san, Hiro prays.

The dancer who loved her daughter with all her heart.

“An explosion with your left. You favor your right for explosions, so to compensate you always follow up with a left explosion after your right hook.”

Kacchan scrambles up to his feet, scarlet eyes burning so brightly with rage they’re dyed blood-red, the vessels in his sclera popping from sheer anger. Izuku’s green eyes pierce into Kacchan in a way they’ve never had before, in a way no side-character should be able to do.

“I’ve always watched you, Kacchan. Because you’re my hero!”

Katsuki gapes at Deku, his ears burning from the sheer bullshit he’s hearing.

“Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting!” he screams, firing off explosion after explosion. Deku’s movements flow around the attacks, and he screams as his heart jitters at an uneven scramble.

Deku is a foil!

Deku is a loser!

Deku’s job is to make Katsuki shine even brighter!

Deku’s job is to relieve his stress and stay in his place!

So why was he able to throw Katsuki?!

Why is he in U.A.?!

Why does he have friends that coax him out of panic attacks?!

Why does the teacher give him any time of day?!

It’s wrong.

Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrong-

“This isn’t you, Deku!” he roars, using his explosions to bum rush the other boy. None of this is in-character to the plot.

Deku’s default is meek and quiet – a powerless mouse. Yet since saving him a year ago, Deku’s changed, his head grossly inflated just by the fact that he was able to help Kacchan.

Suddenly, this Deku thinks he’s so good. Good enough to push Katsuki off the throne. There’s no way he’ll just roll over and accept such treason.

Deku leaps out of the way, smacking into the ground but jumping up the next moment.

“I know! I know I know I know~!” the fucker sings, seemingly gone manic with fear or desperation coursing through his system. “Kacchan gets angry easily, so he’ll charge!”

“Don’t call me that, you shitty freak!”

Katsuki squeezes his fists, his gauntlets weighed down with nitroglycerin.

He’s the hero of this story, and it’s always the hero’s job to let people know their place.

Deku isn’t supposed to be here, so Kacchan will solve the problem the way he’s always done.

With force.

Izuku reaches through the slit in the back of his jumpsuit. From there, Hiro reaches out from the gap of bare skin between his cropped undershirt and bicycle shorts. A hard, plastic handle is pressed into Izuku’s hand.

“I’ll kill you Deku!”

Kacchan raises his hands, while Izuku holds his breath, no matter how much his brain and heart need it right now.

The hunter, Shika-san.

Hiro and Izuku trained not only to up their synchronization, but also to gather up the skills of the Quirk’s victims. It’s all poor imitations that are barely able to hold up to the attacks of an unstable student hero, yet how can the two of them live on guiltlessly without trying to do something—anything—for the deceased?

The least they can offer to the dead is to keep their memories alive.

Izuku shoots the water gun twice at each palm, dousing Kacchan’s hands.

Nitroglycerin is meaningless when there’s no spark.

“Give it up, Kacchan!” he shouts, grabbing at his restraint cuffs.

“… You’re always stupid when it actually matters, Deku.”

“Huh?”

Kacchan smiles, his face splitting in half as his eyes glow, giddy and unrestrained.

“You have a hidden pocket in your suit? Couldn’t think of anything better? Well, that’s to be expected from someone Quirkless.”

Kacchan yanks the pin out of one gauntlet, and Izuku gasps.

We need to run!

“I wasn’t able to predict how much of a stalker you were, but I do know how to cover my ass – unlike you.”

Izuku can hear All-Might yelling in their earpieces as he dashes away.

He feels the heat of the explosion first before it slams him into the concrete.

The world stops, ringing and ringing in his ears as his pupils shrink from a world that’s too bright. He is… slumped over rubble. Izuku is hanging out, and the sun is shining on him. So that’s why it’s so bright.

I’m fixing your shoulder and bones right now, and I’ll heal your burns once we’re safe! Stay with me, Izuku!

With a click, his right shoulder snaps back into its socket, the curious feeling of blood vessels tugging at each other inside snapping him back into reality.

“It hurts! It huuuuuuuuuuurts!” he bitches, allowing himself only a moment to complain, before gathering up the pieces of himself. His ribs twitch under the skin, but he stubbornly ignores it all.

He rips the earpiece out, throwing it outside as his shin stitches itself back together.

“Kacchan, what’re you doing?!” he cries. “That was dangerous!”

“Shut up!”

Kacchan seems to have underestimated the force of the blast, clutching at his arm with a scowl. Clamping the other pin between his teeth, he rips it out, pointing it at Izuku.

Again?!

“Hiro, trust me and strengthen my legs.”

… Alright.

Izuku can feel the Quirk’s worries be quickly replaced with a deep, steady faith that permeates through his entire being.

“Fine then!”

He stomps his foot down, then charges at Kacchan, Hiro feeding their legs with thick sinews of muscle. The spark of grenade glints in his eyes, the flames begin to billow up-

Izuku kicks the gauntlet straight up, aiming the blast at the ceiling.

“Urakaka-chan!” he screams, right before they’re both flung back, the explosion bursting out in a flower of shrapnel and fire.

Izuku huddles up, protecting himself as the new sunlight shining upon them is smothered by smoke.

Ochako hears Izuku and dashes in from outside, slamming all ten fingers against the bomb.

“Urakaka-chan, I won’t-!” Iida shouts.

The blast crumbles away the floor, and Urakaka jumps out with the bomb, hoping the mass of it will be enough to slow her fall. To her relief, the fake bomb is still substantial enough to make sure she only smacks into the ground, instead of splattering.

All-Might splutters, then raises his arm.

“Heroes win!”

Izuku, I’ve got our claws ready.

The boy nods and runs away, jumping out of the open rubble to begin climbing down. Their green-tipped claws jam into nooks and crannies in the concrete, before shimmying down a gutter pipe.

“Urakaka-chan, are you alright?!” he asks, running over. She’s sitting back, rubbing at her knees with a wince.

“Yeah, I think I’m good! We got the bomb too!”

She’s using the bomb as a personal sunshade, waiting for her knees and shins to stop throbbing. Izuku bites his lip as he notices how in pain she is.

“I’m sorry, because of me…”

“No, no way!” she exclaims, waving about her hands. “I was following your plan – I agreed to everything!”

She pauses, giving Izuku another once-over.

“Midoriya-kun, what happened to you?! Your costume!”

“Huh?”

He glances down, and immediately blushes. The upper left of his costume is almost completely blown off, and his back feels awfully cold. Next time he should request fireproofing. To his relief, the arm sleeves and the high collar of the jumpsuit have hidden the worst of his scars, and amazingly the makeup has survived.

“Oh that’s…”

Kirei-san really knew her stuff, huh?

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Midoriya-kun! Are you alright?! Your costume got burned so badly!”

“Midoriya!”

“Midoriya-kun!”

Iida and Yaoyorozu run at the duo, breathing hard.

“Midoriya-kun, are you alright?! The explosion destroyed all the cameras and then your comm went out so-!”

Midoriya shrinks away, unsure of how to react. Usually, he’s the one with the motor-mouth – being on the receiving end is… strange. He should really talk less.

“I’m okay – Body+ heals me so…”

“Doesn’t it hurt, though?” Yaoyorozu asks.

Hurt?

Of course, it always hurts.

Izuku is just used to it, but how does he explain that without telling on Kacchan?

In the corner of his eyes, he sees the boy marching off, ignoring All-Might who’s trying (and failing) to scold him.

“Wait, Kacchan!”

Izuku?!

Izuku pulls his hands away from Urakaka and begins running after Kacchan.

“Kacchan, Kacchan, wait up!”

“Midoriya-kun?!” Urakaka gasps.

He follows Kacchan in the tattered remnants of his suit, ignoring how his burned skin aches as its tugged on.

“Kacchan what’s the matter?! Kacchan?!”

Why does the boy look so frustrated and down? The other is supposed to be a hero – someone who’s a step above and brings hope to those around him. The Kacchan he sees right now is sullen and discouraged.

He ignores Hiro’s frantic yelling, pushing ahead as they all enter a deserted section of the training area.

“Ka…chan?”

Kacchan grabs Izuku’s bare bicep, snarling.

“What’s the matter?” he whispers, growling as his fingers dig an inch deep. Izuku’s suit is still charred open and burned from Kacchan’s initial attack.

“Ka-Kacchan, wait, there’s too many people nearby-!”

The explosion blows Izuku back, and he slams into the dirt, smothering himself as his arm oozes blood in between gaps of cauterized flesh.

Izuku!

As he squirms on the ground, Kacchan stomps on his stomach, pinning Izuku down.

“What’s the matter? This is all your fault, you fucking Deku! You’re the one who changed, you’re the one who’s trying to steal from me!”

Steal? No, no Izuku just wants to be a hero, he doesn’t want to take anything away from Kacchan – he wants to see Kacchan become the number one hero! He doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth, but the most he can manage is shaking his head dizzy.

“Liar!”

Sour bile rises in Izuku’s throat, and he clenches his jaw with a whimper. Is he lying? Maybe he is taking things from Kacchan. After all, Kacchan is supposed to be the amazing hero who wins everything and captures the hearts of those around him.

Sure, Izuku was just standing up for himself, but he didn’t need to take that win away from Kacchan-

Izuku, you’re not lying, and you didn’t take away anything. We earned that win fair and square! Hiro growls, mending Izuku’s burns as he reinforces the boy’s stomach. It felt that wave of self-doubt and loathing, choking them like iron hands ‘round their throat.

We.

That’s right. Izuku was working together with Hiro. Admitting that he lied and stole something from Kacchan is the same as refuting all the Quirk’s efforts and how amazing Hiro is.

Sucking in small sips of air, Izuku struggles to gather up enough oxygen to speak.

“I… I didn’t steal anything from you, Ka-Kacchan.”

Kacchan lifts his foot to stomp down again, and Hiro can’t take it anymore. It rolls Izuku’s body out of the way, then gets up to stomp away from Izuku’s unhinged classmate.

“Don’t touch me,” Hiro hisses, Izuku’s voice dropping down as the Quirk removes them from the situation.

“I’m sorry, Hiro, I shouldn’t have run after Kacchan like that. I’m so sorry, were you scared? I made him angry even though fire hurts you – I’m sorry, Hiro,” Izuku mumbles nonstop, indirect pleas to the Quirk for mercy. “I’m sorry, you had to get stuck with me, I promise- “

Don’t promise something like that – I know you’re lying!

Pointed anger stabs into Izuku while guilt closes the spikes into him like an iron maiden, strangling him to death with a thousand cuts. He gasps, reaching out his mental feelers to the Quirk, but to his horror its deflected.

He comes back to his friends, trying to placate them with a smile, but his lips won’t curl up. That expression that he’s honed over a decade has been wiped clean from his memory in a single moment of shock.

Izuku spends the rest of school in a daze, letting his classmates cart him from class to class, banging at Hiro’s walls, throwing wave after wave of desperate apology at it.

Like the weak emotion it is, the waves can only splash off.

Shouto watches as Midoriya shuffles about with a hollow look, muttering automatic replies to his classmates. Suspicions raised when Bakugou returned after Midoriya became like this, and even the ones who were drawn to the charismatic boy seem more wary now. The focus of the class is Midoriya for now.

That look on Midoriya – it reminds him a bit of his mother. Her well-crafted and charming smiles that made her seem weak and simple; bouts of catatonia where she gazed at nothing for minutes on end.

The memories are fresh in his mind despite being from years ago.

He couldn’t wake her up when she was like that. Could only stay by her side until she was roused to consciousness.

“Do any of you live near him?”

Colorful pairs of eyes settle on him, some big and round in surprise. He ignores it all – as the child of Endeavor, he’s been attacked with all sorts of looks. A little shock is nothing to be self-conscious about.

“Someone should walk home with him.”

“I can do it; we’re neighbors, and our moms know each other,” Bakugou says.

“I don’t want you to do it.”

Shouto’s blunt reply makes him blink in surprise. Everyone in this classroom is his rival, so he shouldn’t care about any of them. Why should he care if Midoriya goes home with someone who might hurt him?

… It seems like there’s a part of him that’s still soft. If he told Father about this, the man would surely get angry.

A sharp pair of claps draw their attention. Their teacher scoffs at them all, looking bored as can be.

“I’ll call Midoriya-kun’s parents and escort him home. It’s my job to take care of you all, and as an adult it’s my job to make sure you don’t need to stress out about such things.”

Can their teacher really be trusted with such things? Those creatures known as teachers ignored his burns when Shouto was younger, lavishing Father with praise.

Like madmen, his classmates readily agree to such ridiculous terms, and Shouto decides to roll the dice.

“I want to go with Midoriya too.”

Father’s shifts are erratic. Midoriya shouldn’t live too far away, so if he’s lucky he can still make it home before Father.

Aizawa-sensei watches Todoroki, judging him in that single second before nodding.

“Sure. I don’t have enough space in my car though, so I can’t bring the whole class.”

Iida, Urakaka, and Tsuyu call dibs on the last three seats, with Tsuyu offering to text Yaoyorozu when their classmate is dropped off. Shouto’s relieved that Bakugou has given up.

Shouta makes the children wait outside while he calls Midoriya’s mother. Right now, she should be at the hospital, so he sighs and begins jumping through hoops of extensions and phone chains.

After five minutes, his persistence is rewarded.

“Is Izuku alright?!”

He pulls the phone away from his ear just in time, then sighs and holds it close again once he can no longer hear the yelling from a foot away.

“Ma’am, physically he’s fine, but mentally a little dazed. There was a harsh practical today from what I heard, so it’s quite possible that after Recovery Girl healed him, he was more tired than expected. I can drop Midoriya-kun off at your house personally, since I understand you right now are completing a hospital residency?”

“Thank you so much! I’m sorry for all the fuss, I just assumed the worst. Yes, I’d really appreciate that.”

“It’s no problem. He already has some friends that want to tag along.”

“… That’s very considerate, but would it possible to send his classmates home? I’m a rather private person, so I’d rather not let anyone visit unless I know their parents as well. Tell them I appreciate their kindness and apologize for taking up their time.”

How can you know any of the other parents if you don’t have the time to meet them? Shouta thinks.

Well, they’re high schoolers now. They’re old enough to hang out outside of home, so Midoriya won’t be too isolated. Though that brings up the question of when the boy was younger. Bakugou was probably the only one allowed to come over, since the boy mentioned their mothers being friends. The thought of being constantly exposed to such an abrasive personality has Shouta exhausted just thinking about it.

“Will do, Midoriya-san.”

The usual pleasantries are exchanged, and the call ends on an amicable note. He shoos the kids home, making another mental note on how Todoroki lingers.

What an interesting batch of kids he’s been gifted with this year.

“Midoriya-kun, I’m driving you home.”

“… Un.”

The kid hates eye contact right now and follows him without another sound. Midoriya for all intents and purposes is being a very obedient child right now, buckling himself in and taking care not to scuff anything in his car.

“Midoriya-kun, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t push, and just waits. It’s a forty-minute drive to Midoriya’s house anyways. Shouta’s patience is rewarded when five minutes later, the kid finally replies, his brain having finally swum through all the mush.

“I made a friend very angry.”

“Bakugou.”

“Nu-uh. Another friend. I was… texting them, and I made them angry. Now they won’t talk to me.”

Texting in class usually means detention, but he’ll need to wait until tomorrow to discuss the best times for the kid to write lines or whatever.

“… Only good friends have arguments.”

Some light flickers in Midoriya’s eyes.

“And only great friends are able to talk through them and save a friendship. Apologize, be understanding, then have faith in your friend. If a relationship can’t be saved after that, maybe it was better to have it end.”

“B-but, they’re my best friend – they’re so important to me, and we’ve spent so much time together, and we’ve never argued before.”

“Oh, the first fight, huh? No wonder you’re feeling worse than usual since you’ve never had to deal with it before. Well then, lemme ask you this – do you trust that your friend is a good person who will want to work through this together with you?”

“They’re good! Very good, and super amazing! I just… I don’t know if they’ll want to forgive me.”

Shouta hums to himself, wishing he could just let his eyes drift over the cityscape instead of staring at the road.

“Trust is a two-way street, Midoriya. You want to work through it, but don’t think your friend will? Then it’s doomed from the start.”

Midoriya picks at his cuticles, the skin rough and torn from years of mistreatment. The boy is quiet and pensive, hugging his backpack tight for comfort.

“I-I’m not us- What does trust have to do with it?”

“Do you trust that your friend is a good person?”

“Yes! Of course, I do! They’re amazing!” Midoriya snaps, the boy’s voice carrying a hint of edge to Shouta’s pleasant surprise. The surprise is dampened when Midoriya then shrinks in, apologizing.

“Sorry, I just, my friend is so amazing,” Midoriya mumbles with a smile. “They’re the nicest person I’ve met, and they’re so patient and so smart – they help me feel better when I’m sad and they always encourage me.”

“They sound like someone really amazing.”

“Yeah! That’s why… they’re so nice and patient, but I still made them angry. I…”

The boy shuts up, and Shouta sighs.

“You tell me they’re amazing, but you also tell me that they’re not nice enough to talk things out with you?”

Midoria startles, staring at Shouta with large, shining eyes. His gaze then flickers to his knees, as he chews on his thumbnail with anxious bites.

“I… No… what if they hate me now? They’re forced to be my friend, sensei.”

“You’re being real mean to your friend right now.”

“Huh?”

“You keep acting as if your friend is some horrible person who won’t forgive you.”

“… Do I deserve to be forgiven?”

The question is spoken like a wisp of breath off the tongue. Near silent and said only out of instinct.

“You do, Midoriya. You’re a good kid. A very good kid.”

The kid freezes, his hands beginning to shake and making Shouta wonder if he’s made a mistake.

Shouta knows he’s made a mistake when Midoriya bursts into loud, bawling sobs.

“Th-thank you, Aizawa-sensei! Thank you!”

… Maybe it was the right decision after all.

Izuku stumbles inside after profusely thanking Aizawa-sensei. He sighs thinking about all the homework he needs to do and decides the first thing to do is to shower then soak in a bath. His face is swollen and there’s the stirrings of a headache behind his eyes.

It’s only during his bath does he notice the burns all healed.

He wants to cry again.

How could he have doubted Hiro like that? All these scars – they’re proof of how much the Quirk cares.

Izuku… I don’t think we’ll ever be able to agree on that child.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t feel the wave of relief he expected from hearing Hiro’s voice again.

He hurts you, Izuku.

“I make people angry, and besides, Kacchan’s gonna be an amazing hero once he grows up!”

I don’t believe that.

“Well, I do.”

Hiro gives up, and Izuku sloshes water in the bath as he feels the dead emotion sink his body down. The Quirk moves onto a new topic.

I got angry at you because you almost lied to me, Izuku. You were about to say that you would try harder to make that kid less angry, but we both know that isn’t going to happen.

Izuku bites his thumbnail again, thinking. Why did he almost lie to Hiro? Why has he lied in the past before? He’s never needed to think so deeply about the causes of his actions.

“I think I lie sometimes… because I want people to be happy.”

Oh, that… I understand that better now. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and made such a fuss though. I’m sorry, Izuku.

“I’m the one who should be saying that! I’m the one getting hurt, the one who’s making you frustrated-! Wait, Hiro, why are you frustrated?”

Izuku can’t believe he didn’t realize it until now, that what he thought was spiked anger was more like prickly frustration.

I care about you, and I promised to keep you safe from that child, but I also broke my promise, Hiro replies, settling near the bottom of Izuku’s consciousness.

“Then aren’t we even? We each broke a promise, so now we’re gonna do better.”

Hiro jolts up, and Izuku intertwines compassion and understanding into the Quirk’s shock.

Yeah, the Quirk admits with soda pop bubbles of happiness. Yeah, we’re even now.

Izuku’s first week of high school ends so abruptly that Hiro needs to remind him of his meeting with Iida the next day.

“Ah, Hiro, can you check the weather for tomorrow?”

As he pulls out the new clothes he got with the third-years, Hiro scrolls through their phone with green claws.

Twenty-four degrees Celsius.

“Hmmm… this sweater is too warm then…” Izuku sighs.

Izuku hasn’t gotten any new clothes in years – his jackets all have sleeves ride up his forearms at an unflattering cut, shirts are uncomfortable to wear, and pant legs look cropped at just the right length to reveal his dumb ankle socks.

Maybe none of this mattered when he didn’t have friends or people to hang out with, but now he’s meeting a classmate tomorrow. Kirei-san’s memories aren’t helping him either, the woman’s memories giving him some semblance of a fashion sense.

We’ll make do, Hiro reassures Izuku, the warmth of a smile seeping into the boy like a hug inside his mind. Izuku sighs, leaning into the sensation and exuding comfort.

“Yeah, you’re right, Hiro.”

They cuff the pants, look for the least holey pair of socks, and settle on an old shirt that might be from either middle school or elementary school.

His jackets look odd on him, but there’s not enough space for all the supplies he wants to carry just in case. It’s no good to reach under his shirt like a weirdo to be handed stuff by Hiro.

I’d say to just wear a backpack, but that’s a little excessive.

“Mmmn, fine! I’ll just wear a jacket then! Ugh, I hope Iida-kun doesn’t think I’m weird tomorrow,” he groans.

If he judges you by your looks again, can I borrow your body to punch him?

“No, you can’t!”

Hiro laughs, the sound like pebbles in a rattle. An odd, yet comforting noise that makes Izuku’s beating heart slow down. That’s right – Hiro will be with him tomorrow, and he’s taking his steps towards heroism by tearing down this anxious loneliness of his.

He’s scared, but with Hiro, being terrified isn’t debilitating. Instead of trembling at the start line, unable to run, he can at least take small steps with Hiro at his side.

“Okay, then let’s just go to sleep!”

Tenya needs to double check his phone when leaves the train station. Midoriya is already there, waiting and fumbling with his headphones, speaking to some unseen companion. The boy keeps tugging on the sleeves of his jacket, which ride up his forearms as he fidgets.

Strange.

Midoriya’s entire outfit looks… ill-fitting. All the clothes are too small, causing them to scrunch up in the wrong places. To top it all off, he’s even wearing gloves, on such a warm day no less.

“Midoriya-kun!”

The boy yanks his headphones out in a hurry, jamming them into his pockets. The wire tangles around his hands, but he smiles, nonetheless.

“Am I late? How long have you been waiting?” Tenya asks.

That smile cracks, Midoriya’s brows furrowing in at the questioning.

“Ah, I-I’m so sorry! I, uh, I got here early. I’m sorry!”

“No, no,” Tenya says, his hands raising reflexively, as if to protect himself. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

Midoriya looks at him with wide eyes but says nothing. He’s picking at his cuticles, hunched in front of Tenya. The taller boy stands there as well, silent. People are bustling around them on the weekend, adding to the awkwardness of it all.

Realizing that Midoriya has no intentions of talking for now, Tenya realizes he needs to step up to the plate.

“Then, should we find you proper running shoes?”

“Mn!”

Tenya takes the lead, but he needs to glance back every few seconds to make sure that the other boy is still there. Midoriya doesn’t walk by his side, opting to stay at his heels.

Something flips in Tenya’s stomach, but he ignores it. Never the one to back down, Tenya pauses to look properly at his classmate.

“Do you want to walk next to me?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you angry.”

“Why would walking next to someone make them angry? I can hardly think of anyone who’d be that on-edge.”

Midoriya’s eyes widen at Tenya’s words, big and green at what he’s hearing. As he catches up, his picks at his cuticles through his gloves.

“I’m not that smart, so when I’m thinking hard about stuff, I mumble aloud. It’s really creepy and annoying.”

Tenya should say something. He really should be saying anything.

Yet his mind is empty, and his heart can’t muster up anything but guilt.

Someone has been mistreating Midoriya, that much is obvious. Why else would his own peer be afraid of walking next to others? The only thing Tenya did was add on to that harassment during the entrance exam.

A bully.

One of the farthest things from a hero he can be.

“A-Are you sure you don’t mind me walking next to you? I’m warning you, it’s really creepy when I mumble!”

“Oh… You should still walk next to me. We’re doing something together right now, no? Therefore, you should be next to me,” Tenya says, bullshitting some hackneyed logic to disprove the other’s fears.

Midoriay blinks up at him with large, unfaltering eyes, reminding Tenya of a baby doe that’s been separated from its mother. Tenya rubs at a crick in his neck in discomfort, waiting for the other boy to trot up next to him.

“Thank you!”

“You don’t need to.”

The conversation lapses back into silence, but now at least Midoriya is walking side by side with him.

“After we find some good shoes for you, let’s get lunch.”

“Really?!”

Tenya is rewarded with the first bit of honest happiness he sees from Midoriya. He forces on a smile and nods.

“You mentioned that Body+ makes you very hungry. It’d be rude of me to not make space in our schedule for that.”

“Waitwaitwait! You remembered?! That… That’s so nice,” Midoriya mumbles.

Okay, that’s progress! Tenya focuses on his face, keeping it pleasant and loose, though there’s a part of him that desperately wants to scrunch up his brow.

“Is there anything else you want to do?”

“Oh, I don’t wanna bother you like that!”

“I’d like to hang out longer with you, Midoriya-kun. We’re classmates after all.”

Tenya blinks as he sees the boy flush, but a smile creeps at the corners of Midoriya’s lips.

“Clothes. I think I need to get new clothes.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“You don’t mind?!”

“Not at all.”

Tenya can only imagine how uncomfortable his classmate is in his current outfit, to the point of immediately bringing it up despite being so shy.

Izuku fiddles with the edge of his gloves as he tries on the first pair of shoes Iida brings out. It must look strange, but he wants to cover up both the scars and in case Hiro wants to do anything.

He stands up, and Hiro’s shock melts into his own. They take a few steps, hopping about.

“Woah, these are-!”

“Comfortable, right?” Iida says, walking in with another stack of boxes.

“Mn!”

The soles of his feet are cushioned, and he walks around, Hiro examining their body.

The stress on your knees and legs is reduced.

“Really?” Izuku mutters.

“Let’s see, all of these should be in your price range or on the lower end, and this half are ones that seem like they have potential, while the other half are popular with my brother and other runners.”

“Can I look at those?!”

“Here you go,” the boy says, handing Izuku the first box in the stack.

Izuku blinks, flushing a bit as he wonders if he was too obvious. The next pair is tried on, and Iida tries asking some questions.

“Are you a fan of my brother, Ingenium?”

“Uhhh…”

Izuku stands up in this new pair, taking stock of his options.

One. Say Ingenium isn’t and make Iida angry.

Two. Say Ingenium is and make Iida happy.

In that case, the obvious choice is to-

Izuku. Are you sure?

Hiro’s voice pulls him back from the brink, gentle and understanding. A soft caress that soothes his anxieties. Izuku fiddles with his glove and presses his own cheek into his palm with a sigh. The cool touch of Hiro’s body pools from the flesh, returning the touch.

“I like all heroes,” Izuku begins, “but my favorite has always been All-Might.”

Iida chuckles.

“A hero otaku becoming a hero themselves! Must be a dream come true for you, then.”

“Yeah!”

Something passes over Iida’s face as Izuku marvels at the electric yellow lightning bolts on each side of the shoes.

“That question Urakaka-chan asked on the first day of school! I told you both that I became a hero because of my brother, but you and Urakaka-chan didn’t get a chance. Why did you want to become a hero, Midoriya-kun?”

Hiro’s curiosity is perked too, making Izuku giggle at the fluff in his brain.

“All-Might was a big reason, but also Kacchan! When I was little, I was so amazed by that video of All-Might rescuing civilians, and I watched it so often that my mom downloaded the video for me so that even when the wi-fi was down I wouldn’t cry,” Izuku tells, eyes closing as he reminisces.

“Kacchan—my nickname for Katsuki—is the real reason why though. You heard that I was a late bloomer, right? I… I was upset one day.”

Hiro melts as a peaceful, gentle smile passes over Izuku’s face. The content on its partner’s face is the most it’s ever experienced from any of its hosts. Even Umi-san’s memories of her time with her daughter don’t match up.

Just how happy does this memory make Izuku? This memory that remains closed off from the Quirk?

“I ran off and got super lost and scared. That’s when Kacchan came and found me. I was so relieved, and so happy, that for the first time I realized what heroes could do for other people. I knew in that moment that I wanted to do the same for others.”

The setting sun had dyed the world golden, those ruby eyes hypnotizing Izuku. Warm, soapy hands grabbed his, and brought him home to his crying mother.

Kacchan looked for Izuku. Kacchan didn’t hate him. Kacchan saved him.

“That’s why I wanna be a hero,” Izuku confesses.

“… I see,” Iida replies, unable to say much else.

The shoes are bought, and the two settle into a booth as they carry trays of food over. Midoriya’s balancing two of them, but by now Tenya’s used to it. After all, they’ve all been watching Midoriya polish off an exorbitant amount of lunch every day.

It’s come to the point that the boy’s been regularly sending recipes to their class Line chat, though otherwise he’s a lurker.

The portions increased after Wednesday, when Midoriya realized that Todoroki liked to share food with him. It’s softened Todoroki’s reputation among the class. He’s a loner, but still in their group chat, and people greet him fondly.

After all, someone who stuffs their face like a chipmunk every day and swaps foods with a classmate can’t possibly be bad at heart. He’s just awkward.

On the other hand, the person Midoriya refers to as ‘Kacchan’…

Tenya can’t bring himself to like the boy. Something feels off, and some of the others can also sense it. The class likes him quite a bit, especially after Aizawa-sensei explained that Midoriya was acting strangely because of exhaustion. Bakugou’s smart and treats people with a tough-love-hidden-heart-of-gold style that’s genuinely appealing.

Sometimes Tenya feels like the crazy one, listening to Midoirya gush about the boy. If it weren’t for Urakaka, he would’ve thought he was just paranoid. Their first day of school, and how he called Midoriya “Deku” lingers with him. The nickname is spreading within their class too.

‘It’s short for Dekiru,’ Bakugou had explained.

“That’s so cute!”

“Oh, that’s pretty manly.”

“C’mon man, you can’t be cool, good-looking, strong, and creative! Save some for the rest of us!”

Tenya watches as Midoriya begins to take off his gloves to eat. As he pulls down his right glove, the boy blanches. He grabs his jacket and scoots out of the booth in two movements, hurrying away.

“Midoriya?!”

Tenya stands up, but looks at their food, still uneaten and left on the table.

Does Midoriya even want Tenya to go help him?

A person who makes him anxious and quick to apologize?

Tenya takes a deep breath.

At the end of the day, Tenya just wants to help his friend.

He gets up, leaving their food alone to follow. It feels strange knocking on the door of a bathroom in a chain, but he still does, just in case.

“Huh?!”

“Midoriya-kun, are you alright?”

There’s a clatter of what sounds like plastic on porcelain, and some muffled thing that Tenya can’t hear.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll be out in minute, don’t worry!”

“Alright…”

He’ll respect Midoriya’s choice, and someday hopefully he’ll tell him everything. About what might’ve happened to him in middle school, why everything makes him so scared, and what Bakugou is really like.

Izuku sighs as Hiro sharpens their hearing, and they listen to Iida stepping away. Green claws are clutched around the paste foundation, concealer, and powder that nearly fell off the sink. Izuku finishes smearing the foundation over the scar on his right wrist, before going over the smaller scars on both hands with concealer. A puff of finishing powder seals it all in, and the two admire their handiwork.

“Whew, all done.”

Iida-kun sounded worried about you.

“Nah, he was probably just weirded out by me jumping out like that.”

If he were weirded out, he wouldn’t have gone to check on you.

Izuku frowns, grabbing the makeup and dumping it back into his pockets with the gloves.

“There’s no way to know for sure. I mean, we’ve only been in school together for a week – someone as cool as Iida-kun being worried about me is too much.”

If you say so~, Hiro replies with that sly lilt in his voice. Izuku blushes as innocent teasing tickles at his consciousness, making him squirm about.

“Haha, stop that, Hiro!”

Izuku sits down with Iida to properly finish their meal, enjoying all the burgers and fries on his tray, with a milkshake for good measure.

“Food really does taste better with someone else!” he cheers to himself, happy and full. This fullness probably won’t last, but in the moment it’s bliss.

“Yes, it does.”

“Oh, sorry! Was I bothering you?!”

Izuku tried to say nothing as he was eating to not annoy Iida, but to his relief the other boy is smiling.

“Hunger is supposed to be the best spice, but company must be the second best.”

Izuku grins and nods back.

“Definitely!”

The first place Iida suggests for clothes is Uniqlo, and Izuku squirms about for a few seconds with folded arms. Kirei-san’s opinion on the brand was a staple for the basics.

Considering Izuku’s sparse wardrobe that’s only well stocked with exercise gear right now, he really is lacking in the basics.

“Okay, sure!”

It’s the first time in awhile that he’s worn pants too long for his legs, but otherwise they fit perfectly. He grabs a few pairs, searching through the sale section for proper tops. A tee there, a button up here – Izuku doesn’t go out enough that he’ll need a lot.

“Okay, let’s get these altered!”

“Altered?!”

He requests some alterations for the pants, pointing out exactly what he needs done as Iida stares from the side, shocked. Is this really the same kid that went to his entrance exam, bundled up in ill-looking clothes like a shut-in?

“Okay, lets come back later!”

Iida nods and blankly follows Izuku out of the store.

“Midoriya-kun, when did you learn so much about clothes?”

“Uh! Oh, that! Um, I recently met some people who taught me some stuff!”

He’s not lying. Kirei-san had great (if a little outdated) style, but Hado-senpai has also been regularly sending him fashion advice since they talked about a “high-school debut”.

“Now just a jacket…” He pulls out his phone and begins looking up something. “Ah! Iida-kun! There’s a used and vintage clothing market happening today! Can we look at the stalls?!”

Iida just smiles and nods.

“Sure. I’ve never been to one.”

“Me neither, but I hear it’s a great place to find good stuff without breaking the bank!”

Izuku’s genuinely excited to find a jacket with big pockets that’ll cover his arms. Even if he’s not sure if he’ll look good in any of it, he still wants to try – still wants to live up to the expectations that others have placed on him.

By now, Iida’s the one following him, instead of the other way around. Hiro is the one who has Kirei-san’s memories, so the Quirk leads them away from stalls that look took pricey, some that are just resold wholesale, and some that just have a poor selection, before settling on a stall that looks full of potential.

The stall is piled on the sidewalk, all the way up to the canopy with racks of clothes, creating a curtain that blocks out all sunlight. This place make look a little gloomy, but there’s something fun about a treasure hunt.

“If you need anything, just ask me,” the attendant tells them, demonstrating with a telekinesis Quirk a pen spinning midair.

“Whoa, that’s a super cool Quirk!”

“Huh?”

“It’s like my mom’s but even stronger!”

“Oh, thank you, haha!”

“What’re the limits to your Quirk?”

“Around, twenty-five kilos? I could probably train it more, but I’m no hero, and I’m not one of those Quirk-fitness junkies out there.”

“Ohhhh I get it – that’s still amazing though!”

Hiro makes a coughing noise, while Iida smiles apologetically at the quirk. It snaps Izuku out of it, and he gasps, fiddling with his gloves.

“I’m sorry!” he yelps, bowing deeply. “I just really like Quirks! Sorry to bother you!”

“No harm done!” they reply with a laugh. “That’s the first time someone’s ever been so interested in my Quirk as well, so I had fun!”

Izuku stares at the shopkeeper in surprise, then bumbles about, pointing at a random coat in a hurry.

“Can I see that?!”

“No prob, kid.”

The shopkeeper looks up at where Izuku is pointing, and the jacket shifts off the rack by itself. Instead of giving the boy that one though, the coat behind is given to Izuku.

“Wow, more than one at a time! That’s so cool!”

“Here kiddo, give this a try.”

The bomber jacket pulled down is large and white, with blue detailing that compliments Izuku’s green hair and eyes.

“That, my friend, is a genuine ‘Night Snail’ piece.”

“What?!”

What?!

Even Kirei-san had only a few pieces of genuine Night Snail, and they’ve heard Hado-senpai gushing about the indie brand enough that even a neophyte like Izuku understands what a big deal that is.

An indie brand that has no physical or online presence. A hobby designer who makes beautiful clothes in limited quantities, only to spread them about in small shops and street markets like these.

“Was lucky enough to get called upon by the goddesses themselves,” the shopkeeper smiles. “It’s kind of an open secret amongst sellers like us, but ‘Night Snail’ is a duo. They switch off between designing and tailoring, to polish their skills and fix their weaknesses.”

“That’s incredibly interesting,” Iida note, looking at the jacket with new appreciation. He frowns as he stares at it for a little longer, noting all the flawless stitching and design.

“Er, how much would this cost?”

The shopkeeper smiles sheepishly, pointing at the tag hanging off the sleeve. Izuku checks it, and Hiro promptly blacks out for a few seconds.

“Hiro?!” Izuku squeaks under his breath.

It’s an amount that might not be much to an adult, but to a child might as well be a financial cliff.

“Oh, d-don’t worry! I was planning on giving you a discount!”

At the word “discount”, Hiro manages to rouse back to life, the lights flickering back on in Izuku’s consciousness.

“This is Night Snail, though!”

“From the way you two have been speaking, I’m also wondering if that would be a good idea,” Iida adds.

“What’re you two kiddos? Heroes in training? I was planning on keeping that one for myself, which is why I stuck it in that corner, but I think it’d be a lot happier with you.”

“Huh?”

“Clothes are meant to be worn and enjoyed and used to their fullest,” the shopkeeper explains. “I think that’d be more likely to happen with you, than with me.”

They look at Izuku’s shabby clothes, at the obvious first foray into fashion and maybe a high school debut early in the school year.

“A discount on something I wasn’t planning on selling in the first place is still a profit for me no matter what. Take fifty off.”

Iida’s jaw drops.

“Fifty… as in…” the taller boy’s voice drops off in hesitation.

There’s absolutely no way.

“Percent.”

Izuku we’re getting it!

“Yes!”

Izuku pulls a battered All-Might wallet out of his pocket and happily pays for the jacket, which the shopkeeper packs up neatly.

“It was really fun talking to you, kid. Used to think my Quirk wasn’t much, but…” they smile at Izuku. “Now I don’t think so.”

“All Quirks are amazing,” Izuku insists to the shopkeeper, shyness completely blown away by now. “At least, I think so!”

Iida grabs Izuku as another group of people come into the stall, and they need to make space.

“Thank you!”

“Back at ya’, kid!”

Izuku walks down the street next to Iida, smiling at his new jacket.

“Wow, we got so lucky, Iida-kun!”

“Rather than lucky, I think you’re just very good at making others open up to you.”

“Hm, what do you mean?”

Iida thinks in silence for a moment, one hand on Izuku’s shoulder to steer him out of trouble, the other under his chin.

“You’re very nice, people feel comfortable around you, and you’re supportive too. You don’t have any ulterior motives, and people can see that.”

Hiro flushes with pride, while Izuku shrinks in embarrassment.

“N-Nah, Iida-kun is exaggerating. Exaggerating a lot.”

Iida notices Izuku’s tomato-face then laughs.

“Not at all. Oh yes, Midoriya-kun. Has it been a while since you last got clothes?”

Izuku rubs at his fraying sleeves, thinking.

When was the last time he got clothes?

His mom helped him out with that stuff in elementary school, but in middle school she increased his allowance.

She didn’t want to keep getting him clothes with her “lame” style she joked, and she also wanted Izuku to have more fun now that she was going to be busier than ever.

The issue was that he didn’t have friends. No one to hang out with, and even less incentive to buy anything nice for himself.

“Uh, it’s been awhile,” he replies, keeping his answer as vague as possible. “That’s why I have a lot saved up! Though lately it feels like I’m burning it all.”

There’s a flicker of surprise from Hiro, and Izuku makes a note to explain to the Quirk about what his mom is doing, and how she’s so busy.

“Well, what do you spend it on?” Iida asks.

“I eat a lot, so I’ve been using my allowance to compensate for the extra food costs, and then I spent it on exercise clothes and equipment for training.”

Izuku slaps at his cheeks for few seconds, hyping himself up.

“Still! It was all worth it! Saving up for all those years means that I can afford stuff now and hang out with everyone!

Midoriya’s clothes look like he hasn’t gotten anything new to wear in a very, very long time. They’re all growing and going through their growth spurts, and for a long time Iida’s mom was complaining about how he was outgrowing everything.

What have Midoriya’s parents been doing? Do they have money issues? Midoriya’s hefty allowance suggests otherwise though. His friend also cooks all his own meals.

How often is Midoriya just left alone to his own devices? Even when Tenya’s parents are busy, he usually has Tensei to keep him company.

Isn’t Midoriya lonely?

 There’s no more time to think when they reach the station, with trains going in different directions. Tenya’s wondering if he should help Midoriya with his bags, when his classmate suddenly runs over to three older kids also there.

“Izuku-kun?”

“Mirio-senpai! I got new shoes! Oh yeah, Hado-senpai you won’t believe what I found! Amajiki-senpai have you tried the milkshakes from that new place?”

Midoriya is talking a mile a minute, and the three upperclassmen look just as happy to see him. He’s holding three conversations at once, beaming in a way that he never is in school.

Tenya would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous.

The boy with the black hair looks up, pointing at Tenya, when Midoriya jumps and turns around to wave him over.

“This is my classmate, Iida-kun!”

Classmate. Not friend.

Tenya just smiles and greets his upperclassmen.

He’s sure that with some persistence, one day Midoriya will call him a friend too.

“FUCK!”

Katsuki hurls his phone at the wall.

“Why the hell are you asking me that?!” he screams at the cracked device.

Kirishima had asked in the group chat what Deku was like in middle school. Of course, that loser only lurks, so the conversation shifted to Katsuki instead.

What was Deku like when he was younger?

Did he still do that funny mumbling thing?

Does Midoriya have a long commute to U.A.?

The conversation is about Deku, and not him.

Everything is slipping out of his control, and even worse is how Izuku seems to take up more and more of the spotlight as only a foil.

He’s deviating from his role in Katsuki’s story and for the second time in his life, terror grips his heart, making it pound painfully against his sternum.

The first time was the slime villain.

The second time is this.

His carefully crafted life plan is crumbling, and Katsuki doesn’t know what he needs to do to stop it. He can’t bully Deku as much compared to in Altera, since here the teachers actually give a shit for some godforsaken reason.

“Hey, brat! What’re you throwing around up there?!”

His mom bursts into the room, glaring.

“Listen I could hear you screaming from downstairs! What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing ya’ hag!”

She looks him over, then sighs and sits on his bed, surrounded by All-Might merch.

“C’mere.”

“You’re doing that dumb thing where you treat me like a baby.”

“Yeah, I’m your mom, I get to do that. Now gimme a hug.”

Making a big show of bitching and mouthing off, he still settles in a hug with her, grumbling.

“Now tell me what’s the matter.”

“Nothing crazy, just feel… Like things aren’t going right.”

“Stuff like that happens in life. Things going wrong aren’t always your fault, but what does matter is how you react. You’re my kid though, so I know you’ll always make the right choice.”

Katsuki listens to her words, feeling his heart calm down and his breathing even out.

“Still fucking sucks.”

“Haha, time to show those other hero kids what you’re made of then, right?”

“Ugh, you’re right you old hag.”

“Brat. Anyways, you’re always gonna be my number one, you know?”

“Seriously? That’s so cringe.”

“I’m trying to be nice here!”

Katsuski lets his mom keep yelling, even as they’re both smiling.