Chapter 2: Determination and Nightmares
It was a blessedly cool afternoon, for the season anyway, which would make Izuku's run later much more tolerable than it might otherwise have been. After his diagnosis, he had lost most of the small number of friends he had, and so had taken to exercising alone in order to release the energy which always seemed to be building inside of him. Early morning and late afternoon runs, swims at the nearby beach, and his gymnastics courses which he had enrolled in right after his diagnosis gave him an outlet for at least the physical aspect of his energy, but finding ways to keep his mind busy were proving increasingly difficult. He was top of his class at Aldera, even though he barely put in any effort. He couldn't recall the last time he had studied for a test, and at this point, his teachers had given up on trying to get him to take his schoolwork as seriously as the others did. Most study periods he was permitted to wander to the machine shop, or the art studio, where he could practice his skills.
Creativity, it seemed, was one of the only ways that he could calm the near constant buzzing of his active mind. Building and disassembling engines at the age of eleven, he had moved on from the metal shop of Aldera to found and run the robotics club, where he was the sole member. The isolation was disappointing at times, especially as it meant he couldn't ask others for input on his increasingly intricate designs, but it was also calming in a way. He didn't have to deal with the expectations of others while he worked, which left him free to tinker and code as he saw fit.
Coding was perhaps the most delightful aspect of robotics that he had discovered, and his knowledge of languages and logic models had drastically outgrown that of the tired looking man who taught computer courses at Aldera junior high. Occasionally though, as if he saw something that the people around him didn't, Izuku caught the teacher smiling at him with a look akin to pride. He had spoken to Izuku a number of times, and once after the boy had submitted a response to a challenge in a popular computer magazine, he had been particularly impressed. Izuku's work had been clean, elegant, and yet, unconventional too. Logic was supposed to be precise, replicable, and ready for mass production, but the way Izuku had made the statements, conditions, and every other aspect of his work dance across the screen had been too unorthodox to be the work of simple practice. It showed a unique insight.
"What I want to know is why you're wasting your time here, Midoriya," said his teacher. He was leaning against a desk, loose tie over a slightly wrinkled white shirt and khaki pants betraying the oppressive spring heat that they were all fighting against. Izuku had wished that there was a different uniform available than the black one he wore, even if only for particularly warm days.
"W-well Saito Sensei," he started, trying to catch his stutter, "I-I think I'm in a pretty good p-place for where I want to be. I mean, I'm c-close to UA here, and there are plenty of resources near here for t-training. I mean, I like the parks 'cause they're really big and they don't mind me staying late, and the school is o-okay and let's me do lots of stuff even though it's not in the curriculum…"
"Easy there Midoriya, I didn't mean to get you going like that." Izuku blushed and clapped a hand over his mouth, while his teacher gave him a mirthful smile. "Please don't worry about it, really. I just wanted you to know that somebody here can see your potential. You're gifted, Midoriya, and not in the way that we say to the above average kids. I know you've been taking classes at a community college some nights, right?" Izuku nodded, hand still clasped firmly over his mouth. "And your answer to that problem from the magazine had some people calling the school to accuse us of having an expert do it in secret for the clout it would bring."
"O-ohmygosh sensei I-I'm sorry I d-didn't mean to embarrass the school, I just-" his teacher cut him off with a raised hand, and Midoriya's own clamped down on his mouth again. The older man couldn't help but chuckle at his student's antics. A moment later, however, he tensed, and his face grew serious.
"I know the other kids aren't treating you the best, but you don't have to take that from them. You shouldn't have to, and if the administration were more competent, you wouldn't be subjected to it at all." Izuku brought his hands down, his mouth open slightly in shock at his teacher's words. There was a dangerous glint in his eye, and a touch of anger to his features. "You're a good kid Midoriya. You've got more community service logged than anyone else, and more on top of it that I know you don't log. You've got grades to spare, and limitless potential. So I just want to know why you're staying here and taking all this crap from the people who should be protecting and encouraging you. You deserve better." He stopped, wanting to say more, but waiting instead for the boy to digest his words. As he went to speak again, Midoriya cut him off.
"I know, sensei, that w-what the others do isn't r-right. I know I-I could be somewhere else. B-but what I want more than anything is to be a h-hero. I know no one's ever done it...quirkless...before, but if I want to, then I need to be here, where I'm needed. If, if I w-were to leave now, there wouldn't be anyone to stand up to…" he trailed off for a moment, glancing at his red shoes before raising his head with the hint of a sad smile, "there wouldn't be anyone to get in the way for the other kids. A-and if I were t-to just up and leave, then nobody w-would water the community garden on Wednesdays, o-or help out m-my neighbors on Sunday. Sensei, I-I'm here because I w-want to be. B-because people n-need me even if s-some of them d-don't like me or want me. All Might said that t-the essence of b-being a hero is being there for people e-even when they don't ask. And, t-that's all I've ever wanted, is to be there." He looked up again, and his teacher found himself impressed once more by the maturity and determination that was looking back at him from behind green eyes. He smiled, and shook his head sadly, remembering a similar determination from another boy, now long gone.
"You work on that speech in the mirror or something, Midoriya? I gotta say, it'd make a good one for a hero." The smile that earned him from the kid was nearly blinding, and he couldn't help but feel his own grin widen in response. "If you're so set on being a hero, then I've got something you might be interested in. Just, uh, don't tell your mother I gave these to you, yeah?" He shuddered, remembering the last parent teacher conference he had had with Inko as he brought out a small brochure and a business card with a phone number scrawled on the back. Izuku had been working on a battle-bot at the time of the meeting, and when he had mentioned some of the more...creative elements of the boy's designs he had wanted to disappear under the firestorm that was a protective Inko Midoriya sensing danger.
"Is this a brochure f-for some kind of, m-martial arts studio, Saito-sensei?" Izuku was staring quizzically at the paper in his hands, and turning the card over to look at the name on the front.
"Well, I figure if you're gonna be a hero, you ought to know how to defend yourself. And well, after my last conversation with your mother," he managed to suppress the shudder this time, "I figured that this might be a good fit. The entire point of this style of fighting is to end a fight and disengage as quickly as possible. It's not as flashy as a lot of the styles that some of the big name heroes use, but I trust the instructor, and it's been a useful tool for a number of people I've met over the years." Also good for making certain assholes back the fuck off , he said to himself as Izuku thumbed through the paper.
"Krav Maga, I've n-never heard of it before...that's weird, I thought I'd heard of most martial arts styles." Izuku was looking at the people in the pictures, all of whom seemed much older than him. The few karate dojos he had looked into had all featured at least some people his own age in the brochures, and even some younger.
"Yeah, well it's not really all that popular for the reasons I mentioned already, and the younger kids typically aren't as drawn to it. It's a more recent invention, though still quite old compared to some of the hero fighting systems today." Izuku snapped his mouth shut. He hadn't realized he had said that last part out loud, and once again felt a blush crawling up his cheeks. His teacher continued, unabated. "But for someone as driven as you seem to be, I figured you might be able to take a lot from it, and that you wouldn't worry about the flashiness so much. And more importantly, that you'd understand it's not a sport." Izuku met his eyes before he continued. "While there are some schools that do host a competition element, this isn't one of them. The purpose of this studio is to teach you how to fight, efficiently, and even if you decide to be something other than a hero, it never hurts to know how to defend yourself." Izuku nodded, his features growing more resolute, before he offered a deep bow to his teacher.
"Thank you sensei, for helping me like this. It, it means a lot when someone says they believe in my dream. And, it means even more when they try to help me with it. So thank you, very much." He rose from his bow, and looked over the card in his hand once more. "I'll be sure to call and set up an appointment right after school, sensei. Thank you for the opportunity, I won't let you down." The bell signalling the end of the period chimed.
"Don't worry about it, Midoriya. Teachers are supposed to help you, even when it seems like you've outgrown us." He gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder, and was once again dazzled by the brilliance of the young man's smile. "Just remember what I said about not telling your mom where you got the papers from. I like my arms where they are, thank you very much." Izuku laughed and, after a moment of careful consideration nodded again before turning and leaving the computer lab, calling back one final goodbye as he passed through the door.
"Huh," said Saito as the door closed behind his student a moment later. He chuckled to himself. "I wonder if he noticed that he stopped stuttering towards the end."
Izuku flew over the pavement, arms pumping and grin as wide as the horizon, heedless of the bruises he felt all over as he made his way home, excited to tell his mother what he had learned that day, and to show her his new uniform. When he had arrived at the studio, he had been intimidated by the men and women working there, all wearing similar black shirts and athletic pants. The lack of the typical gi and belts was strange, but the people there had been absolutely amazing. No quirks were being used, just pure physical skill, and Izuku had watched in wonder for several minutes as the practitioners punched, blocked, flipped, and disarmed each other with movements that look almost too fast to be human.
When the instructor had noticed him standing at the entrance he had smiled warmly and waved the boy over, introducing himself in an American accent as Professor Terri, and when Izuku asked after his title he had simply smiled and explained that they didn't use titles like 'sifu' in his class. He was a tall man, but leaner than Izuku would have expected from someone who ran a self-defense studio, his black hair cropped short and his grey eyes surrounded by wrinkles and laugh lines. He was warm, and his presence oddly out of place for someone who was undoubtedly a masterful fighter. When Izuku had mentioned Saito-Sensei, Professor Terri's eyes had lit up, and he began to ramble about the time his teacher had spent as an exchange student with him in America. After a few more minutes of conversation, the older man had fixed him with a hard stare and began to ask his real questions.
"Why are you here then, Izuku?"
"U-uh, well, Sensei knows I want to b-be a hero and h-he knows I don't really care about b-being flashy and," he looked down and took a sudden interest in his shoes, "well, h-he worries because the others in my school don't r-really like me, b-but I don't want to hurt anyone. A-at least, anyone that's not like, a v-villain trying to hurt someone else." Professor Terri considered his words for a moment, then nodded.
"We'll need to work on your confidence, young'un, but I must say I believe you when you say you don't want to hurt anybody that doesn't deserve it. Getting you to see that you are worth protecting too is gonna be tough though, I can tell already." Izuku had the decency to look sheepish at that last remark. "Krav Maga isn't for everyone, and if it's used improperly or irresponsibly, can end up seriously hurting people. I know you know this isn't a sport that people play at, like those kids who do Karate for the fun of it, so I need to make sure you're comfortable with the idea that, if you train in this, you can and probably will hurt people." Izuku hesitated for a moment, still staring at his shoes, before he looked up and met Professor Terri's eyes. There was no judgement there, he realized, just an honest statement of the responsibilities that would come with learning from the man, and how he would have to conduct himself if he did so.
"I-I won't have to, r-register my hands or a-anything will I?" he said after a moment, and Professor Terri's sudden laughter rang out like a thunderclap across the studio.
"Kid, you watch too many Kung-Fu movies; that's a myth. Tell you what though, you want to make it UA right?" Izuku nodded back to him, and Professor Terri noted a subtle change in the boy's stance. He was standing a little straighter, and his shoulders were pulled back. For all that he still looked like a skinny twelve year old, there was something else there as well. Burning determination, even though the flames had been tempered by those around him.
"Well, if you do get in, you're going to be going up against all sorts of brats who never had the good sense to learn that a roundhouse kick leaves you open in all the wrong places. So, if you're willing, I'll train you to be the absolute most efficient fighter in the hero course, and then some. It'll be hard, it'll hurt most days, and you'll probably puke on this floor more times than you can imagine right now, but if you bring that same spark that Saito says you have in your classes, then I'll guarantee they won't know what hit em." He stuck out his hand, looking at Izuku expectantly. He didn't have to wait long before Izuku reached out and clasped the offered hand and nodded to him again.
"Thank you, Professor. If you'll have me, I want to learn from you!"
"That's the spirit kid! Now, we've got paperwork to sign, I'm assuming a parent to call, and some gear for you to get set up in. You think your folks will be up for this?" Izuku looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I-I think you'd probably better let me make the pitch to Mom. No offense, Professor Terri, but you seem like you m-might be kinda of uh...intense, for her." The man's booming laugh rang out again as he clapped a deceptively powerful hand against Izuku's back.
"Fair enough sprout, but I'll warn you now, no lying to her, got it? You can focus on what you need to, but if you can't convince her with the truth, then it's not worth convincing her at all. Now, what about Dad, think he'll be in for it?" He felt Izuku stiffen under his arm and realized his mistake, but before he could respond Izuku was already replying.
"Dad's...not around. I don't know if he's alive or not, but it's just me and Mom these days." Professor Terri brought his hand to Izuku's shoulder and squeezed.
"Shit's rough kid, believe me, I know. But I'll tell you what, he doesn't know what he's gonna be missing out on, and that's the truth." He felt the boy relax again, and felt the knot in his stomach unwind.
"T-thank you, Professor Terri."
"Don't thank me yet kid, you still got a Mama Bear to convince, and the way you talk about her, well that might be hard." This earned him a chuckle from the boy, who he found was already scrolling through his contacts to look up his mother. A surprisingly short list for someone his age, but Terri shrugged it off. Kids could be just as private as adults, after all.
While his mother had been hesitant at first, Izuku could feel her worry dissipating as he spent more time with Professor Terri in the studio. Though he would come home bruised and battered, he was happier than he had been in a while, even more than while he had been working on his projects in the computer lab and metal shop. Inko had noticed, too, that he stuttered less, and that some days, he almost seemed proud of himself. What was more, he didn't try to hide these bruises, like the ones that she had noticed before he started with Professor Terri. It made her heart happy, even if it beat erratically whenever he walked through the door all purple and yellow. It was such a contrast to the slouched posture and half-true smiles he had worn then.
"Mom," he said one night over dinner. She looked up, and saw the gleam in his eyes that she had come to expect when he started thinking seriously about things. "I was wondering, if, uhm, well, if it would be possible for me to join a, uh, a gym?" He was hopeful, requesting but not demanding, and Inko couldn't help but be proud of how polite her son was even with his rediscovered confidence. If he were like Mitsuki's boy, he probably would have simply shouted that he was joining a gym before getting into an hour long argument with her over it.
"Well Izuku, I'm not so sure that someone your age should be working out just yet. Aren't the gymnastics classes and your training with Professor Terri working you pretty hard already?" She sighed then, putting her napkin in her lap, ready for his counterargument. He rarely made a request without thinking it through, and so she was surprised when he didn't immediately reply but instead was sitting with his chin in his hand muttering to himself.
"While it's true that working out as young as I am may...but then what if...and the rate of development is much different now that...but then again, I'm not , so could it be that...but I don't get tired very much, if ever...maybe with the hero notebooks I could..."
"Izuku, honey?" He snapped out of his thoughts, eyes meeting those of his mother, and he smiled.
"Sorry Mom, I just, uh, guess I hadn't thought it all through yet. Which is weird itself, huh? You're right that I'm getting a lot of exercise already, and that maybe a gym would be too much, but maybe there's something else I could do instead. I just need to figure it out." He beamed at her, and Inko was reminded of all the wonderful ways her heart could melt for her son. Then, something hit her.
"Izuku, it may not be perfect, but, well, why don't you see if there's some kind of part time job you could take on that would be physically involved," inwardly, she wanted to groan at the thought of her son taking on even more work, but with the boundless energy he seemed to possess it would probably be ok. "Maybe you could do something like helping people move, or some light landscaping, or something. It'd be nice if you could have some extra pocket money too, I know you love your All Might figures." She was careful not to call them toys. She didn't want to hear that explanation again, even if the thought of her son's exasperation at the word choice made her giggle.
"Actually, I don't think I really need more All Might stuff, but, having some extra spending money would be nice, and I could even use most of it for saving up in case I need stuff at UA." His eyes were shining again, and Inko was almost a little worried at the fire she might have lit under him. "Or, or, I could use it to get parts to expand the robotics club. Or maybe take some entry level support studio classes at the college."
"On top of your math courses?" Inko asked, incredulously. Her boy simply nodded, then seemed to realize something as he shot out of his chair and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Surprised, she leaned in and brought her own arms up around her son. "You make me so, so very proud Izuku. I know you'll do great whatever you do. I love you, honey." She felt the tears welling up in her own eyes as Izuku melted into the hug, and on her shoulder, a spreading dampness from where her son was resting his head.
"I, I love you too Mom. Thank you, for still believing in me." The dam broke, happy tears rolling over each other as mother and son choked out their appreciation for the other. If the neighbors noticed the water leaking out from beneath the Midoriyas' door, they didn't say anything. Likely, they were used to it.
Izuku woke up in a cold sweat, glancing around his room until his eyes fell on the All Might alarm clock he had owned since he was three. Even if All Might wasn't his favorite hero anymore, he still had a great deal of admiration for the Symbol of Peace and all he did. Wearily, he noted the hour and sighed. Three fifteen in the morning. Too early to go do something, too late to go back to sleep before he would have to get up anyways. Sighing, he crossed to his dresser and opened his still-charging laptop, running idly through a few lines of particularly tricky code that were forming the basis of his most complicated project yet. The skeleton was there, the underlying logic models and routines that would make the foundation for all his hero efforts. After a few moments, he changed some blocks around, nodded, and set the program to run through a few test cycles. Then, he brought out his journals.
He still kept them religiously, always observing and quantifying everything he could about the heroes he saw around the streets and in the news. Quirk analysis, fighting styles, potential team ups, weaknesses, and even notes about popularity sprawled around his sketches of heroes in their various costumes and stances. Most, he had found, fought terribly inefficiently, with the exception of the underground heroes. Eraserhead was still a huge inspiration for him, but the more he thought about what he wanted, the more determined Izuku became to fight in the light of day, and to bring a smile to those who saw him. Okay then , he thought to himself, maybe I'm not as over All Might as I thought. Sighing once more, he fumbled for his dream journal, and began to jot down his latest nightmare. They were few and far between these days, thankfully, and had grown ever fewer since he had started training with Professor Terri, even though he had never yet used his training in practice. Maybe it was the confidence in knowing, absolutely knowing, that he could defend himself now if he had to. So far though, simply running from his encounters with Kacchan had been enough. Which brought him back to the dream.
It had been a week since he had been to Dr. Tsubasa, and though his words of reassurance had been all he had needed to hear at first, the whispers and strange looks from his classmates were beginning to take their toll. One night, his mother had found him watching his favorite All Might video, tears in his eyes as he had asked her if he really could still be a hero without a quirk. She had hugged him tight, telling him that yes, of course he could do it, because he was her son, and he could do anything he wanted to. It had helped him to hear those words, but then, the news of his diagnosis had spread through the school, and his hopes had been ground into the pavement over and over.
"Stupid fucking Deku," hissed Bakugo, one hand firmly grabbing the back of his head as he pressed him to the ground, the other popping with small explosions as he held it near his face. "Stupid fucking quirkless freak thinks he can be a hero." He spat, and it landed right on Izuku's forehead.
"Kacchan, you're hurting me. Stop it," he managed, only for his face to be pressed down harder into the ground. Behind his once friend were two other boys, a chubby boy with wings and another with extendable fingers. He had caught them trying to hurt another student, and had, stupidly, gotten in the way.
"What's wrong, Deku? You think you can be a hero when you can't even save yourself? You make me sick ." He punctuated the last word with a hard kick to Izuku's stomach, and he couldn't help but cry out. "You think you're better than me?" he shouted, hauling Izuku up by the front of his uniform until the two were face to face. "You're not better than anybody, got that? You're below the lowest of the low, less than a reject! You got nothing, you are nothing, so don't let me catch you playing hero again." He spat again, right into Izuku's face, and the boy felt the tears threatening to overwhelm him. Through it all though, he managed to speak.
"Is this how heroes act, Kacchan?" it was almost a whisper, but the flash of rage that distorted Bakugo's features showed that he had heard it. Suddenly, there was an exploding fist in his face, and Deku (No! Izuku, he had to remember, he was Izuku) was on the ground again. More kicks followed as Bakugo tried to hit him everywhere he could.
"Heroes win, Deku! That's what they do! And I win, all the time! I'm gonna be stronger than All Might, I'm gonna be the best, and you," a particularly hard kick to the ribs, "are gonna stay the fuck outta my way." He turned away from Izuku's whimpering form, motioning for his lackeys to follow him. As they had left, Izuku had managed to raise his head to look after them, only to catch sight of a portly older man in strange green glasses watching in seeming horror. Dr Tsubasa? What would he be doing here? I must be hallucinating. The apparition mouthed something to him that he couldn't quite make out, and then disappeared down a side street. Izuku thought he had said, 'I'm sorry,' but the pain was getting to be too much to think straight. Closing his eyes and laying his head down on the asphalt, he let the darkness take him.
Having dutifully recounted as much as he could in his dream journal, Izuku made for the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he found dried tear-tracks running down his face, and quickly rubbed them away. He looked at himself more critically then, taller already than he was a year ago, and beginning to fill out. He made a promise to himself, in that moment at three in the morning, that his only tears for the rest of the day, if there were to be any, would be happy ones. He managed to keep that promise for an entire month.
Chapter 3: New Friends and a Confrontation
Izuku's mind was buzzing as he raced down to the Dagobah Municipal Beach Park, possibilities getting ahead of him as the ground beneath his feet turned from asphalt to dirty sand. It had been two years, and between his training in Krav Maga, gymnastics, and the odd moving job he took every now and then, he was stronger and faster than he had ever been. The near limitless energy that washed over him constantly had not abated as he entered puberty, but had rather increased. With two years left to prepare for UA, he had much to do and little time to do it. His work on computers and robotics had spread out far past his school, and the back room that his mother had kept for storage had long ago been converted into a makeshift workshop where Izuku could tinker to his heart's content. His own room had been filled with computer parts and wires strung every which way, connecting pieces of technology across the space like some kind of multicolored spider web. Cable management was a concept for people who had less important things to do, and despite the mess, he always seemed to know where everything was.
Today was special, and as he finally slowed to a stop in front of the massive piles of garbage that obscured the beach, he felt his resolve burn tight in his chest. Garbage, heavy machinery, even a car or two had been dumped all along the stretch of sand, discarded by those too lazy to use the proper channels for disposal. The mess had been left by the local government, excused with something about not having the manpower or the budget to clean the place. That suited Izuku just fine. Looking from horizon to horizon, he grinned, finally spotting the little used recycling bins that sat in a small brick enclosure. The idea had come to him over dinner with his mother one night. It had been katsudon in celebration of his continued straight A's.
He had been looking out the window when his mother mentioned how much she missed being able to see the ocean from her office near Dagobah, and that had pretty much been that. Izuku had decided right then, that within two years, the beach would be cleared and Mom would get her view back. Of course, his purpose wasn't entirely altruistic. There were plenty of machine parts available for scavenging scattered all over the beach, if one were willing to dig around for them, and anything sufficiently valuable he could haul to the dump for scrap metal. He needed parts, and money to buy parts, if he wanted to get into UA. It would build his body up more too, something he wanted to work on even more since he still wasn't part of a gym.
Izuku collapsed on a patch of sand he had cleared, covered in sweat and small scratches from his many trips to the bins that had taken everything he had no use for. His own pile of usable parts was significantly smaller than what he had dragged away, and sat neatly on a bandanna he had brought from home for just this purpose. Fiddling in his bag, he extracted some lubricants and deoxidizing agents and set to work cleaning the parts, occasionally stopping to turn one over and over in his hand before retrieving a wrench and prising something apart. As engrossed in his work as he was, he failed to notice the young woman behind him, large pink hair tied up behind a grease smeared face with yellow, segmented eyes, and the intense way she was gazing at the scrap he was playing with. She was about his age, and somehow covered in even more rust and grease than he was.
"Hey, you should use a number three for that one if you want to get the cap off that piece, or else you might crack it." Izuku nodded at this, reaching into his bag for another tool before freezing up suddenly and turning slowly to face the mystery voice. He yelped.
"W-wh-who are y-you," he managed after a moment, placing his hand over his heart to try and calm its rapid beating. Grinning wickedly the girl threw her shoulders back and struck a pose, one finger raised triumphantly to the heavens as she made her declaration.
"I am Hatsume Mei, great inventor and future support gear genius! I'm going to make lots of babies, and you should help me!" Where Izuku had simply frozen before, this time, his fight or flight instinct kicked into full gear, and before he could blink, he found himself running down the beach, sand kicking up after him.
"Hey wait, at least let me show you a baby before you run off!" She was yelling after him, but Izuku was having none of it. His mother had warned him about girls like that, and why was the yelling getting closer? Suddenly something barreled right into his back and brought him to the ground, his training kicking in almost immediately. He brought his arm down, feeling it impact something hard, and broke the grip that someone had sought for his wrist. Springing up, he turned to face his assailant, only to find the same girl staring at him with an even more wicked grin. The fact that she was carrying a small grappling hook, which she was slowly rewinding, wasn't as strange as the metal plates that had appeared over her arms. One of them seemed to be cracked, and he rubbed his elbow where it had impacted the plate.
"Wow, you're fast, but my baby is faster!" she exclaimed, jumping up and hoisting the grappling hook up for him to see. "You seem to know what you're doing even if you're not too good at it, and you hit pretty hard, you should help me test and make more babies!" Izuku was dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open when it suddenly snapped shut as he made the connection.
"You...you call your inventions...babies?" he ventured. She nodded enthusiastically, and he realized, suddenly, that he was talking to a girl. Thankfully his face was already red from how hard he had been sprinting, and so the blush that he was sure would be spreading there would be hidden for the moment.
"So you can talk, that's good! And you're strong enough to move the heavy parts for me, which is also good. But you're digging into my scrap pile, which is not good, so you owe me Mr. Runaway!"
"My name is, uh, Izuku Midoriya," he managed after a moment, still a bit flabbergasted by the whole situation.
"Don't care," she chirped in response, "names are too hard unless they're attached to something, like baby number five, impact resistant ablative plating!" She gestured to the piece of metal he had struck which, sure enough, seemed to be shedding the cracked surface to reveal an and undamaged layer beneath.
"My name is attached to me," he ventured after a moment, staring in disbelief. "Wait, are you good at materials science? That ablative armor looks complicated, and I've been trying to find a substance that's light enough to move around in like that, but also dense enough to absorb heavier attacks, and with enough room throughout for an underlying frame that I could run power through. The idea is sound, at least, Lynchpin says it is, but I can't figure out the actual mechanics to bring it all together..." Izuku was stopped in his muttering by Mei suddenly thrusting the piece of armor into his hands before grabbing her own bag to rummage through it. After a moment, she triumphantly withdrew something which looked suspiciously like an old radio headset and placed it gently over his head.
"Meet baby number fifteen point two, universal translator! He should be able to pick up whatever language it is you're speaking and read it back to me no problem!" She gave him a thumbs up, and again, Izuku was struck by just how forward this girl was.
"I'm speaking Japanese!" he said, somewhat more defensively than he had meant to. She simply grabbed the headset back and gave him another dangerous smile.
"Speak better then! Less is more when you want to talk design, especially my designs. Oh wait, you said something about materials science! Do you make your own babies? Can I see them? Do you have any with you? What's this?" He looked over at her and found Mei rummaging through his backpack, withdrawing one of his notebooks. The simple black writing on the cover identified it as his 'design' journal, and the moment she opened it, he could tell he was in trouble. Her eyes widened and she began to breathe a bit more quickly. "Hey, hey, hey! You do make your own babies! These are good! Really good! Not as good as mine, but still! Are you going to go to UA too? You should be my rival! I'll take over the support department and you can watch!"
"But I'm trying for heroics," he managed, and if he thought Mei had looked hungry before, now she seemed positively ravenous.
"Heroics, yes, perfect! You go to heroics and I go to support and make all my babies and you take them and show the sponsors how great they are! Yes, this is perfect, you have to get in with me, and then Hatsume Industries will be all over the map!" She grabbed his hand and began dragging him back towards where he had abandoned his parts, noting that she had apparently taken the time to fold the bandanna up and tie up the pieces inside before chasing after him. Sighing, he let himself be pulled along, unable to compete with someone who, for all he knew, was the only person in the world with more energy than him.
"Mom, I'm home," he called as he stepped through the door and took off his shoes. "I, uh, I brought a friend I met at the beach. Is it ok if they stay for lunch?" His mother was in the kitchen when he arrived, and had her back to the pair as they made their way to the small dining room.
"Oh honey that's great, of course they can stay! I keep telling you that you need to meet more people outside of school." She was chopping vegetables when she heard the two chairs behind her scoot back, and nearly cut herself when her son's friend responded.
"Ah, you must be the mother of my new lab assistant! Thank you for hosting me! Hey, are you all right?" Inko turned suddenly to find Mei staring at her curiously, eyes drawn towards her fingers which she had almost brought the knife down through.
"My baby brought home a girlfriend!" Izuku's head hit the table almost immediately and she caught a low grown emanate from the boy. She knew she probably shouldn't tease him, especially since new friends were so rare for him, but the way he reacted to her suggestion was too funny to resist.
"Yes! I am his friend who is a girl, and Mr. Runaway is going to help me make lots of babies!" The amused look on Inko's face flashed to one confusion, and then suddenly something dangerous, and the knife in her hands suddenly felt very light when Izuku shot up, eyes wide and frantically waving his hands.
"M-Mom, she d-d-doesn't mean it l-like that, i-it's just what s-she calls her i-inventions!" Judging by how red Izuku had turned and how utterly unfazed the Mei girl seemed by his explanation, Inko decided to let it be for the moment, letting the smile return to her face though it didn't quite meet her eyes.
"Oh, he said he makes babies too! Do you as well? You must both be smart! Here, you can have this, baby number seventeen!" Somehow the girl had produced a block of slightly tacky white plastic, and was holding it up to Inko as if it were the greatest thing in the world. "I call it, automatic cooking preparation cube, but ACPC doesn't sound good, so baby number seventeen it is! Please, take it, it's not very good for hero support anyways!" Wordlessly Inko walked over and took the proffered device, turning it end over end in her hands as the girl gave her a wide eyed explanation as to its various features.
"And this opening right here accepts vegetables which it can cube, mince, dice, macerate, or even peel! I made it for heroes who needed to cook in the field in a hurry, but then I found out about rations, blech, by the way, and I already have one at home, so please, take good care of baby number seventeen!" Inko found that her smile from before had finally crept back up all the way to her eyes, and she let herself be carried away by the girl's obvious enthusiasm, and her own son's increasing fascination with the explanation she was being given. It may not be ideal, especially with such a boisterous personality, but at least her son seemed happy to have found a new friend.
"And uh, this is, uh, my room." If Izuku thought he had been red before, when his mother had called for him and Mei to keep the door open or else, the shade of crimson he reached put anything calling itself red firmly into the category of light pink.
"Ah, I knew you were smart Mr. Runaway! I didn't figure you for the computer type of baby-maker, but it makes sense now why you didn't know up from down with those parts at the scrap heap!"
"H-hey I k-know enough about what I-I'm doing," he retorted a touch defensively. "Besides, even i-if I don't always g-get it right away, I-'ve g-got Lynchpin to e-explain things!"
"Hmm, who is Lynch whatsit?"
"Hello, young lady. That would be me." The voice was soft, cold but not uninviting. Mei's already excited eyes went wide as she glanced through the various computer parts and monitors until she found the one where the voice had originated. It was showing a simple green circle which pulsed with each word when Lynchpin spoke.
"I b-built Lynchpin last year to h-help me with the materials aspect of g-gear that I couldn't figure out on my own. H-he's not a real AI like they h-have at the universities, h-he's more like a really easy to use search engine, b-but he won a local competition for d-design and I t-think I did a pretty good job making him believable and..." Izuku was looking down and playing with his fingers as he explained. He was nervous, certainly. He had never shown Lynchpin to anyone outside his Mother and the people judging the design contest, and now that he was, he couldn't help but be embarrassed at how simple it really was, especially compared to Mei's various gadgets.
"Hey, hey! Don't sell yourself short Mr. Runaway! This is a really good baby!" Crap, he had said the last part out loud.
"Yeah, you did! That part too, but I talk while I think too! Hey, what's this!" Mei was already across the room, navigating the mess of wires and scattered technology with an ease that not even he could manage, and had stopped in front of a rolling whiteboard. "Hey, hey, hey! Now this is a great baby! Why didn't you tell me you had something like this! Where is it? I didn't see it in the workshop you showed me? Is it in storage? Huh, huh, you gotta show me!"
"Oh, well, uh," Izuku spluttered, not used to this kind of enthusiasm for his work, "I, uh, mentioned that I needed more knowledge about materials science, because as much as Lynchpin says the concept will work, I don't really know how to bring it all together, and I really need to get it ready in two years or less in time for the UA entrance exams, but I don't really know if I'll be able to finish it in time and I really need to because I-." Izuku was stopped in his muttering by Mei once again placing baby number fifteen point two on his head, and he felt himself stiffen as his own voice was projected, much more slowly and intelligibly. "I don't have a quirk, but you can bring support gear you make yourself to the entrance exam, and this seems like my best shot." His eyes widened as he realized just what the headset had said, but Mei didn't seem to mind, that hungry look in her eyes again.
"Hey now Midoriya," she had used his real name, holy crap, "if you think you can build this thing in time for the entrance exam and get into heroics with it, then you gotta let me help you! If you show them all what this can do, that'll put Hatsume industries on the map for sure, and that will bring lots of sponsors so I can make even more babies! This is great! You've got the brains, I've got the brains and the talent! Let's make this happen, yeah?" She stuck out her hand, no hesitation and looked at him with a grin that didn't seem pitying, unlike those he had been met with by many others when he had told them he was quirkless. All he saw on Mei's face was, surprisingly, enthusiasm and some amount of respect.
"A-are you sure, Mei san? I-I'm not really very popular since I don't h-have a quirk, and i-if you want someone popular to partner with for sponsors you could probably d-do better than me." He turned his eyes downward again, only to feel a hand gently bounce off the top of his head.
"Listen here Mr. Smarter-Than-He-Thinks! I don't care about a quirk or no quirk! You know what mine does? I can zoom in my eyes." There was a sudden softness to her voice, and Izuku was surprised at how kind she sounded. "It's nice for looking at small circuits and stuff, but that's all it is, nice! I don't have a flashy quirk like a lot of others, but that's not stopping me, and you shouldn't let it stop you either! So come on, let's get to work huh? I'll show you my forge and we can talk materials for this," she pointed at the whiteboard, "and then you can work on the new logo for the Hatsume R&D lab, a wholly owned subsidiary of Hatsume industries!" That got him laughing, and soon she joined in as well as he finally reached out and grabbed her wrist as she grasped his. They shook, once, twice, and it was done.
"T-thanks Mei, for saying that," he nodded to her over their still clasped arms, and he found her laughing at him again. He found that, unlike that of his classmates, he liked the sound of her laughter.
Six months into their partnership, Izuku had taken to walking to and from school with Hatsume in relative silence as she babbled all the way to her stop on the train station. Hatsume, he had found, thought of little else beside her babies, and whatever new design she could cram into one next. It was refreshing, talking to someone about something other than quirks, and he found himself grateful for the distraction. She had tagged along on a number of occasions to watch him work in the computer lab with Saito-sensei after classes, as well as to his Krav Maga lessons with Professor Terri, and each time had bombarded him afterwards with suggestions for his project using what she had seen. He was grateful that she was so enthusiastic about the entire affair, though the easy way with which she conversed with Lynchpin was beginning to unnerve him. The program had seemed almost too real lately, and he didn't recall incorporating any learning behaviors into it. Maybe Mei had done something?
He was broken from his thoughts by Mei's sudden vice like grip around his arm, which, because of all the hauling, exercise, and forging he had been doing lately, was considerably thicker than it had been only a few months before. He was taller now too, where before Mei had stood slightly above him, they now stood at eye level.
"Hey, hey! Why is that angry looking dandelion walking over here? Oh hey, he's exploding a bit, like baby thirty eight! Do you know him? Ooh, he looks mad!" Izuku had paled at her description, and the familiar crackle of small explosions behind him made him almost hesitant to turn around. Sure enough, it seemed Bakugo had followed them, and with only five blocks left to get to the beach and Mei's nearby workshop, he had managed to catch them with no one around.
"Fucking shit nerd Deku, what the fuck are you doing, huh? You think you can ignore me while you screw some cheap whore? You think you're better than me, huh?" Bakugo had stopped a few feet away from the pair, Izuku utterly nonplussed and Mei completely unfazed by the outburst, though she was staring at his hands with some interest. Noticing her, he sneered. "The fuck are you looking at, Bubblegum?"
"You have calluses on your hands, I'm assuming to help with your quirk, but what about shoulders and elbows? Probably a lot of resistance from the explosions, and quirk adaptation can only do so much to dampen the impact over time, but what if you were to…" she trailed off, still staring intently at Bakugo's hands which were curling into fists.
"The fuck? You do this shit too? Deku, you fucking your cousin or something, you fucking freak?" The bully took a step forward, and Izuku found that instead of the involuntary step back he would usually have taken, he was instead holding his ground and dropping into a looser stance.
"G-go away Kacchan," he said, clenching his teeth, "Mei is a friend, and I-I'm just helping her get some scrap for her support ge-" he was cut off as Bakugo lunged forward, palm out and ready to explode in Izuku's face. In that moment, time seemed to slow, and, as if on instinct, he found his body moving on its own, arms coming forward to catch Bakugo's in a painfully efficient block just as his knee made its way into the bully's groin. He brought his elbow back around into Bakugo's chest, and the look of shock and pain on his face as the boy hit the ground and curled in on himself was almost worth it. "H-holy crap Kacchan, are you Ok? I'm sorry, I just k-kind of m-moved without thinking a-and-"
"Deku," hissed Bakugo through clenched teeth and watering eyes, "you're fucking dead , you hear me shit nerd?" He coughed and began to straighten out on the ground. "I'm going to put you in the fucking ground, and then your little bitch too." He was getting to his knees now, and it took all of Izuku's willpower not to put him on the ground again. Instead, he grabbed Hatsume by the wrist and pulled her along behind him as he made for her workshop near the beach.
"Bye Mr. Dandelion, let me know if you want bracers for those shoulders of yours, OK? Hatsume industries is open to everyone!" The two disappeared around a street corner right as Bakugo's rage fueled roar echoed down the road after them, and Izuku redoubled his efforts to make it to the workshop in time. Sliding through the side door, he skid to a stop inside the cramped space and turned on the light.
Hatsume had said her parents were supportive of her endeavors, but it always surprised him a bit when he entered into the converted space, an old car garage near the beach, and took it all in. Tools lined every wall, hung up on metal pegboards all of which were dented and blackened from numerous impacts and burns where Mei had tested her inventions. In one corner was a truly massive electric forge, along with the various tools Mei used for her blacksmithing. Prototypes and gadgets were scattered all over the workshop, and in a slightly smaller, somehow even messier corner, was Izuku's computer space. There, still attached to Lynchpin's secondary console, was the object of his search, exposed wires and servos open to the air. Disconnecting what he could, Izuku pulled his creation down and slipped it onto his wrist, turned on the spot, and was striding out the door with all the confidence he could muster. The explosions were close now, too close, and he didn't want his tormentor coming back after today. Turning to Mei, who was regarding him quizzically, he asked her for the one thing he could think of in this situation, and she rushed off to comply.
To say that Katsuki was pissed was an understatement. Shoulders forward, head low, teeth grit so hard he could hear them creaking, he was seething, and the near continuous small explosions bursting from his upturned palms were starting to hurt. That little fucker had kicked him in the fucking balls and run away, dragging that stupid fucking cousin of his behind him. Stupid fucking coward Deku couldn't run far though; Bakugo, for all that the pain was still there, had been able to keep pace with them pretty well, and judging by the state of the houses in the area, no one would be around to stop him from breaking in doors until he found the little shits. He passed through another alley, straining his hearing for anything, before he suddenly felt a presence behind him, and his rage flared. Turning around, he saw the fucking nerd, staring him down, looking down on him.
He was standing there, feet apart, wearing those stupid fucking shoes and a pair of shorts, and one of those stupid fucking tee shirts with the ironic writing on it. He hated them, he hated Deku, that something so pitiful would dare to look down on him. He took a step towards his victim, resolving to hurt him just enough so that nobody would be able to call the school.
"Deku," he hissed, baring his teeth.
"K-Kacchan, s-stop. I d-don't want to h-hurt you, b-but I won't let you h-hurt me or M-Mei j-just because you're mad." The nerd was clutching his right arm, and Bakugo couldn't help but notice how odd it looked. Rings of metal and wires ran down from his shoulder, all leading into a metal gauntlet on his hand that stopped at the first knuckle on his fingers. The palm looked thicker than the rest, and he wondered idly if this was one of the nerd's stupid fucking toys. Smiling, Bakugo decided that he would break it and the arm it was on before he was done. He stomped forward, and again, the nerd didn't move back. Their gazes met, and where he had been angry before, Bakugo was murderous now. His rage broke, and he charged with an ear-piercing scream.
Izuku hesitated, but only for a moment. Bakugo was closing the distance fast, his palms already rippling with explosive energy, and though he didn't want to, Izuku knew what he would have to do to get away without any new burn scars. Glancing at his gauntlet one last time, and noting the charge meter on the wrist, he raised his arm to meet his tormentor, and pressed the activation switch.
Sparks, pops, and then, a blast went off under his fingertips and caught the raging Bakugo right in the face as he was met with something like his own explosive power for the first time. Izuku saw the wince of pain, the look of confusion, and the swift return of the all-consuming rage that dominated Bkaugo all pass over his features in an instant, but by the time the bully had recovered it was already too late. Izuku had closed the distance, broken inside Bakugo's already shaky guard, and was raining strikes everywhere he knew they would hurt. Groin, throat, eyes, ears, kidneys, all were fair targets as he fought to bring the other boy down as quickly as possible. He didn't drop as fast as he should have though, and Izuku caught a number of strikes on his chest and face before he finally grabbed one of the other boy's wild right hooks and rolled Bakugo over his shoulder, slamming him into the ground and knocking the air from his lungs.
He watched as his one time friend gasped for air, sparks still tickling at his rough hands as he fought to recover, but Izuku was having none of it; backing away, he crossed over himself, never taking his eyes off the still struggling form of Bakugo.
"Go away, Kacchan," he said as Bakugo got to his feet. "I'm not going to take it anymore. I don't c-care about you and your stupid origin story. I-I'm not gonna be your punching bag anymore." He hadn't realized it, but at some point Izuku had started crying.
"So, you've been lying to me all this time too, huh? Or did you cheat? That's it, there's no way you could get a quirk, so you cheated! You bastard, you cheated to get a quirk like mine because you couldn't know your fucking place, and now you want to bring me down with you, is that it? Fuck you Deku, you'll never be anything more than a quirkless freak." Bakugo was dropping into his attack stance again, hands behind him beginning to crackle with explosive energy. "You want a quirk so badly you'll fucking cheat for one? Don't make me laugh. If you really wanted a quirk you should have taken a swan dive off a roof and hoped for a quirk in your next life!"
The boy's hands exploded, and in an instant he was flying towards Izuku, arms already coming forward and sparking brighter than ever as he prepared his attack. Izuku braced himself, arms up in front, knowing he wouldn't be able to dodge from where he was standing, but hoping he'd at least manage a counterattack. Time seemed to slow again, and he closed his eyes, readying himself for the hit that never came. Vaguely, he was aware of Bakugo's cursing, and what sounded suspiciously like laughter. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with a very strange sight.
"Fuck off Tintin, this shit don't concern you!"
"Hey, hey now, unregistered quirk usage is against the law, even out here! So I'd say it does concern me." The boy who had spoken was taller than either of the other two, powerfully built, and impossibly bright. His features, plain except for the shock of pointed blonde hair that looked like a fusion between All Might and Present Mic, were drawn into a grin that for all the promise of malice seemed more concerned than anything else. Currently, he was holding a struggling Bakugo off the ground one handed, the other on his hip as he laughed at the younger boy's antics.
"Fuck you, you ain't no hero! Get off me damnit!" The older boy simply laughed and shook his head.
"Actually if you check my wallet you'll find my provisional license, and my UA student card. You seem like the driven type, so I'd hate for you to lose your chance at the big times over something like this, so why don't I put you down and you can head home, huh?" Bakugo had stilled during the explanation, but finally seemed to slump under the other boy's grasp.
"Tch, fine, stupid Deku's not worth it anyways."
"That's the spirit," he laughed, dropping Bakugo back to his feet and flashing a smile that would give All Might a run for his money. "Drive is good, but if it's not tempered by a gentle heart, it won't help you be the best hero you can be!"
"Fuck off Tintin, I don't need your fucking platitudes. And you, Deku!" Bakugo rounded on the other boy, not shaking with rage anymore, but still clearly angry. "You cut the shit, or else Tintin won't be able to fucking save you when you keep playing at being a hero." With that he turned and stomped off down the street, and Izuku found himself alone with the other boy, who was already laughing and extending a hand.
"Wow, he's got spirit! I hope he can figure out how to use it someday! I'm Togata Mirio, by the way, I take it you're Izuku Midoriya?" Numbly, he reached out and took the older boy's hand, letting himself be pulled into the handshake.
"U-uh yeah, t-that's me, but how did you-" he was cut off mid sentence as a familiar something crashed into his back and began to shake him.
"Hey hey Mr. Lab Assistant, we have protocols for testing the babies, you don't just run out and blow people up. Wait, what did I just say?" Mei released him and looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging and continuing. "I found this guy down by the beach after you said to go get help, and he and his friends came running!"
"F-friends?" A squeal, loud, and strangely enough originating from above him, caused Izuku to look up. He was greeted by an impression of weightlessness, long, sky blue hair, and an enthusiasm for everything that could surpass both his and Hatsume's combined.
"Ah, he's so cute, look at the freckles and his fluffy hair, oh, what's that on his arm, does it amplify your quirk? It looked like it makes explosions like the angry guy, oh, are you guys related? How do you know Mei-chan, she told us where to find you! Hey, can you talk? Are you ok?" She had floated down to eye level and was grabbing Izuku's cheeks pulling on them as the poor boy felt ready to pass out.
"Leave the kid alone for a minute Nejire, or maybe he likes attention, dammit why didn't I think of that." A tired, thin young man with dark hair and delicate pointed features had appeared down at the end of the street and was now pressing his head firmly into the front of a nearby building. Mirio was walking over clapping him on the back in the same way he had done to Izuku, and was laughing at the display.
"Hey, come on now Tamaki, you know you don't need to put yourself down like that!" He only received a grumble in response which stretched Mirio's already wide smile as the girl called Nejire floated over to the two and turned to face them. Izuku glanced towards Mei expectantly, who simply shrugged at him.
"You said get help," she smirked. Izuku groaned, and promptly fell forward onto the ground, letting his consciousness fade as he heard three sets of running feet moving towards him.