Chapter 4: Revelations and an Investigation
Izuku woke up on the old futon he and Mei had moved into the workshop for their emergency naps, though if he were being fair, mostly it was used as a spot he would dump Mei when she finally passed out after two or three days on her feet. Distantly, he was aware of conversation and the clink of mugs. He was on his feet a moment later, stiffly making his way over to the hotplate where a merry kettle of green tea was almost always brewing. Grabbing his All Might mug from the rack, he poured himself a wonderfully refreshing cup of the steaming drink before turning around to face the voices.
Mei was, unsurprisingly, up to her elbows in what looked to be an engine, grinning dreamily at nothing in particular as she continued to explain the inner workings of her latest invention, totally heedless that the other three in the room had stopped paying attention to her.
Mirio was regarding Izuku critically, earnest eyes looking at him with concern and curiosity, while the girl, Nejire, seemed content to flit her attention back and forth between him and Mei's project. Tamaki was staring into his cup of tea, mumbling some kind of apology for his intrusion.
"Midoriya," boomed Mirio, causing Mei to look up from her device, nod to Izuku, then get right back to work. "We were worried you were gonna sleep till dark! How are you!"
"Uh, uh I-I'm okay, I guess," mumbled Izuku, taking a sudden interest in his tea.
"Oh man, you and Tamaki too huh, that tea must be really fascinating!" Again there was the laughter, and a squeal from Nejire as she floated over to him. There was a sudden pang in Izuku's chest as he watched her gliding through the air, and his breath caught in his throat. The emptiness that he sometimes felt was there, but it was so strong right then, a widening chasm that threatened to swallow every part of who he was, right down to his very sense of self. He clutched at his head, slamming his mug down in order to bring both hands up to grasp at his unruly green locks, and he felt himself sink to his knees as the inevitable headache burst through his skull and blossomed behind his eyes.
Suddenly, there were arms around him, powerful, but gentle, and Mirio was saying something to him, one hand on his back trying to calm him down. This, however was not what he needed at that moment. Being touched when he felt like this always uncomfortably reminded him of a distant sort of familiar feeling, or of a memory that seemed just out of reach.
"Midoriya-kun, can you hear me? Are you ok? Can you tell me what's wrong? Should I call someone? It's okay, we're here. You're ok." Izuku hadn't realized it, but he was crying, wet choking sobs, and with some effort he managed to reign them back in. Nejire had grounded herself, looking at him with terrible worry on her face, and even Tamaki had his gaze locked onto the boy.
Wordlessly, Hatsume had put her tools down, wiped her hands, and crossed over to the pair, motioning for Mirio to stand aside. As he did so she dropped into a squat beside him, muttering about diagrams and upgrades and inventions, and more than anything else, the normality of it all seemed to help. Feeling the pit taper inwards somewhat, Izuku wiped his tears and thanked Mei before getting unsteadily to his feet and falling into one of the rolling chairs they had scavenged from the beach.
"Are you ok, Midoriya-kun? You had us scared there for a moment. Is that part of the backlash from your quirk?" Izuku felt the tightness well up in his chest again, and he held up a hand as if asking for the older boy to stop. Mirio seemed to get the message, and sat back looking at him with a little more concern than was probably necessary. It was another moment before Izuku was able to speak, and when he did, it was in a low tone.
"I, I d-don't have a q-quirk. I-I just, I don't know something c-came over m-me all of a s-sudden and I felt like I c-couldn't breathe anymore and I…" he looked down at his hands and noticed he was still wearing his gauntlet. Part of the wiring had been crushed in his scuffle with Bakugo, and he cursed himself internally for being so careless with his tools. The mix of emotions and leftover adrenaline from the scuffle were probably affecting him as well, he reasoned.
Mirio and the others were looking at him even more intently now, with the exception of Hatsume who had gone back to work on her engine, seemingly oblivious to the world again.
"Midoriya-kun, if you don't have a quirk, then how come you were able to make that guy blow up? It seemed like you had a quirk like his, or maybe a copy quirk?" Nejire was gentler in her questioning this time, her tone not so much demanding as simply inquisitive. She walked over and leaned down to examine his gauntlet.
"A-ah, w-well you s-see, even though I'm...quirkless...I still want to b-be a hero, and w-well, people like Eraserhead b-basically fight w-without quirks all the time, s-so I've b-been building my own gear for about a y-year now since UA lets p-people bring items to the entrance e-exam if they made them themselves and well I figured if anything then I..." He was off then, losing himself in descriptions and qualifiers of robotics and materials, his work with Mei, Lynchpin, who halfway through Izuku's rapid fire explanation greeted the three newcomers from his second console, and even a recounting of the day he was diagnosed as quirkless. When he finally finished his spiel he looked up, and instead of the disgust he was expecting, saw something like wonder in the three older kids' eyes.
"You sure you don't have an intelligence quirk or something, Midoriya-kun? I could barely follow half of that, but if you're building things like all of this," Mirio gestured around them to the workshop at large, "at your age then you've definitely got the plus ultra attitude!" He gave him a thumbs up as he said so, and his two companions nodded along with him. Fresh tears sprang to Izuku's eyes as he mumbled his way through many stuttering denials, pointing out all the help he had received from Mei and his teachers, but was stopped by a cold hand laying on his shoulder. Looking up, his eyes met Tamaki's who seemed conflicted by what he wanted to say.
"You...shouldn't be as harsh on yourself as I am on myself...that's what Mirio always says anyways," he said, offering a small smile to the still stuttering Izuku, who managed to return one of his own.
"Hey Izuku-kun," chirped Nejire offhandedly. She was watching Mei's work as she spoke, but seemed attentive nonetheless. "You mentioned UA, right? Did you know that we're gonna be second years at UA? It's really cool there, but we're all that's left of our class because Aizawa-sensei expelled everyone else for having no potential. I think he'd like you though, you seem kind of like him. Oh, when you get into UA, you should bring him coffee! He loves coffee! Ooh, what's this?" She had skipped over to the whiteboard he and Mei had painstakingly rolled down to their workshop from his home, stained now with the usual wear and tear of the pair's not quite controlled chaos. His diagrams were more complicated than ever, with notes and analyses running every which way in the corners of the board.
"O-oh, well you know how I s-said you c-can bring support g-gear if you m-make it yourself? T-that's what I'm t-trying to build for the exam. T-that's part of why we're so c-close to Dagobah beach anyways, because I need to get s-stronger if I w-want to use it well, a-and there's so m-much scrap here for materials. So I figured that we could clean up the beach and also we, well just me really, could work on my goals at the same time to get ready for the exam and I…" Mirio's laughter cut him off again.
"Oh that's it Midoriya-kun, I'm training you until you're ready for UA! Hey, why do you look so surprised?" Mirio asked, "A hero's duty is to help everyone they can, and if that means helping others to become heroes, then that's the most heroic thing a guy can do! Let me hear you say, POWER!" Mirio had thrown his fist up in the air, head back and feet apart, and was practically radiating good-natured enthusiasm.
"P-power? Is that okay," Izuku ventured. Nejire snickered and Tamaki bounced his head against the wall as Mirio relaxed his stance and fixed the boy in a steady gaze. "We'll work on it; now, what's your schedule like?"
Between his work with Mei, his continued training with Professor Terri, his time in school (which was increasingly given over to the computer lab with Saito-sensei as the rest of his teachers gave up on instructing him), and Mirio's ever intensifying workouts on the beach, Izuku was beginning to feel tired for the first time in as long as he could remember. There was one year left to prep for UA, it was July 15th, his fifteenth birthday, and he was currently straining against heavy ropes wrapped around an industrial refrigerator, atop which Mirio was seated, all the while shouting his encouragement.
"Come on Izuku, you got this, show me that Plus Ultra attitude of yours!" The older boy was beaming at him, voicing his approval as inch by agonizing inch Izuku moved the heavy machine through the sand, leaving a clearly visible trail behind him. The beach had been halfway cleared thanks to his efforts over the past year, although Mirio had taken to helping some as well. Apparently his quirk, which he had explained to Izuku was called Permeation , had undergone a strange mutation only a month or so ago and had drastically increased his strength as a result. Izuku had theorized as to how such a mutation could occur, speculating that he was perhaps making parts of his body intangible subconsciously in order to increase the force he could project with the rest, but Mirio had simply laughed him off. At times, it seemed like there was something he wanted to say to his young friend, and Izuku thought he could detect a flash of guilt across his face in those moments. It always gave way to his usual smile though, and he was glad that the look never stayed for long.
It had been a particularly long morning, now that Izuku had moved on from the normal scrap to the heavier machinery, and he was grateful for the break when Mirio's ever present companions showed up. His heart sank, however, when he saw Nejire carrying a box of what seemed to be cupcakes, while Tamaki was looking forlorn in a conical party hat. Waving his hands wildly, Izuku spluttered his objections as fast as he could.
"H-how did you g-guys even find out, I m-mean y-you really shouldn't waste your time on s-something so n-nice w-when you d-don't even really know me, I m-mean it's really nice b-but I don't want to be any trouble and…" Mirio had hopped down onto the sand behind him and chopped him lightly on the head to stop the mumble storm.
"Hey, hey, c'mon it's my cake, I'll share it with whoever I want to," he laughed, grabbing Izuku by the shoulder and steering him towards Nejire and Tamaki.
"Y-your birthday is t-today too?" Izuku asked, realizing his mistake before he could stop himself.
"Izuku! You didn't tell me it was your birthday today! Why didn't you say anything? This is great, it's like you're my twin or something!"
"Y-you're two years older than me senpai," Izuku managed. "And b-besides, i-it's not a big deal, I don't usually do anything anyways, and training is i-important and I w-wouldn't want to be a b-bother."
"Izuku-kun, look at me," said Mirio, suddenly firm, but still overflowing with compassion. "You're a good guy, a great kid. You made Nejire those support amps for her birthday, and Tamaki," he gestured towards the sullen boy who halfheartedly blew a party streamer at his mention, "absolutely loves that compacting bento you made for him. Why wouldn't your friends want to celebrate your birthday too?"
"I-I don't know. N-no one's e-ever really wanted to b-before." Izuku's eyes were downcast as he spoke, and in that moment Mirio felt his stomach turn, hard and sour.
"That settles it then," said Mirio softly, ruffling Izuku's hair. "It's hard enough to get Tamaki to appreciate himself, I'm not gonna let you get away with thinking your friends don't care about you. Hey, Tamaki!" His friend looked up at him, party hat still askew but eyes questioning. "You remember that cool arcade we went to for your birthday two years ago?"
"You forced me to go," he sighed, "but yes, I remember."
"Good, training's over for today, let's go celebrate me and my little bro here. POWER!" Mirio's signature exclamation managed to startle some birds which had been resting on a nearby scrap heap, which in turn managed to draw a chuckle from Izuku as his friend led the charge. Nejire floated close behind their boisterous leader as Izuku and Tamaki brought up the rear.
"He's loud, but he's really a good guy," said Tamaki quietly. "And he's right by the way, that bento is actually really handy."
"I'm glad you liked it Tamaki-san. Would you like me to ask Mei if she could make some improvements? We could probably make it bigger, and if we were to add some telescoping side compartments that could reduce the overall profile without making it more bulky…" Tamaki let him ramble as they chased after the other two. It was nice, in a way, to hear his young friend talk without worrying, even if his mouth couldn't keep up with his mind. They were halfway to the arcade when Izuku finally realized that Mirio had called him his little brother.
It had been a wonderful day; Nejire had managed to find a dancing game so intense that even with all his gymnastics training Izuku had barely managed to keep up. Tamaki had proven surprisingly adept at the claw machine and other skill games, and had won each of them a hero plush. Mirio, for his part, had remained undefeated in Hero Fighter 7 and kept winning handily against anyone who had challenged him. Izuku had rejoiced when he found an old, worn machine in the corner. It was an older game, a large chair and two joysticks stuck inside a yellow plastic bubble that opened at the front towards the cabinet's screen making it stand out. Old planes were chasing after each other in a loop over the title screen, and Izuku took to it like a fish to water. He had spent nearly an hour maneuvering deftly through the simulated airspace, playing with a level of skill that surprised both those watching and himself. He beat the machine twice before he was done, earning the top two spots in the high score section, and the four suddenly realized it was growing dark. Finishing inputting his name, he felt a slight twinge of guilt for supplanting whoever S.T. was, but he figured they would be back to reclaim their position on the leader board in no time.
Reluctantly, Izuku made his way back to the beach with the others, only to find that Mei was waiting, smirking while standing near a roaring fire. All the ingredients for s'mores were laid out on a blanket near her feet. Nejire had apparently called ahead, informing the crazed inventor about Izuku's and Mirio's shared birthday and had asked her to set something up before they got back. The cause of the manic grin she was sporting was quickly made apparent when she showed them baby number three hundred seventy two, man portable flamethrower, and the cackle she let out as she loosed a stream of burning fuel onto the already blazing campfire was enough to make the others take a step back.
The s'mores were delicious, despite a few flaming missteps in their initial attempts, and the crackle of the fire contrasted pleasantly against the gentle crash of the waves. The group had been engaged in idle conversation for a while, Izuku inquiring about the trio's classes while Mei discussed potential support items for them. It was comfortable, he thought, and he was skewering another marshmallow when his bubble of calm burst.
"Hey, Izuku-kun," began Nejire, sounding not so sure of herself. She seemed worried about something, and the delicate tone she took reminded him of when she had questioned him in the workshop, almost a year ago now. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I noticed that you really seem to like flying, but, it also seems to make you, like, sad? I just, well, I thought maybe you'd like to fly with me sometime, but I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable so, you know, it won't hurt my feelings if you say no or anything." She gave him a pleading look, and all at once the dam broke. Izuku was on his hands and knees, clutching at his chest as the familiar pain flared up again.
"T-thank you Nejire-san. T-that means a lot to me-" he managed through gritted teeth. Nejire was the first to reach him, glomping onto the boy with a tenderness he would not have suspected from her. Mei and Tamaki were there a moment later, and Mirio was the last to reach him, arms folding around Izuku's back and holding the five together for a long, warm moment. He had gotten much better about being touched while he was feeling this way over the last year, and he found himself very grateful for the presence of his friends. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Izuku felt totally, completely safe, and it only then struck him that he hadn't felt that way before. Always, there had been something nagging at him, as if he were being pursued by some terrible danger that only he could see. But here, surrounded by people who cared about him, who wanted to help him, he felt the kind of love that he had only ever received from his mother. His tears, though they continued to fall, turned happy.
"I, I t-think I need to tell you guys something. I d-don't know if you'll believe me, but you d-deserve and explanation..."
His four friends were sitting across from him, serious expressions on their faces as they all huddled close in the sand, the fire beginning to die down.
"So I've wondered about this a lot, y-you know? Like, I've b-been on forums for q-quirkless people, and, well, things are bad for us but I feel like there's something different for me. A-as long as I can remember, I've felt this sort of, a hole I guess," he tapped his chest and looked up at them. Their gazes weren't pitying like he had thought they might be. Instead, Mirio was following Izuku's hand intently, while Nejire and Tamaki simply had their brows furrowed. Mei, for all her usual boisterousness, had narrowed her eyes and activated Zoom , as if she were trying to find the pit he was talking about. "A-actually n-not as long as I can remember. I-it started after I got my diagnosis at four, and for the longest t-time I f-figured it was just a part of being quirkless, like I didn't know s-something was missing before, so I wouldn't have felt it then." The others nodded along for him to continue.
"B-but like I said, the m-more I've talked to other quirkless p-people, the more different it feels. N-nobody else has ever said that they f-felt like something was missing. A-and since I was four, I've had dreams. Bad dreams, mostly, about school and that, b-but there's other stuff too. I f-fly a lot in my dreams, the g-good ones anyway. I t-think that's why it makes me sad when I think about flying, even though it makes me h-happy too." Nejire had a horrified look on her face at his admission, and he quickly tried to backpedal. "I-it's n-not your f-fault or anything, so p-please don't feel bad. It's just, I g-guess I just end up feeling kind of jealous and...empty, when I think about it."
"Izukun," she began, her eyes still sympathetic, but mercifully not pitying, "all this time, every time I flew around, it was hurting you, wasn't it?. But you never said anything."
"No, no, no Nejire-san, it's not like that, honest! When you s-said you would take me flying, it made me so, so happy. J-just the thought of flying like you do, it made me feel a lot better, and I love to watch you float around! It makes me happy to see you happy, so please, don't stop flying around me! I...I don't think I could take that…" he trailed off again, hands on his knees and eyes downcast. He gathered himself before he continued.
"I, I know it s-sounds stupid, or i-impossible, b-but that's just h-how I f-feel and I'm sorry for worrying you all. It's just t-that, ever since my quirk test, it's like, I don't know, it almost feels like someone took my quirk away. Like there should be something there, but it's just, not." He looked up and tried to judge the reaction of his friends. Mei seemed unchanged, still focused on his chest, staring intently as if she could find the wound and try to patch it up. Nejire had moved her hand over Mirio's however, and was holding it tightly. Tamaki had lost his normally reserved expression, his eyes open wide in seeming horror. Mirio, for all his normal joy, was both pale, and frowning. It looked wrong on his face, but before Izuku could say something, his friend and teacher cut him off.
"I believe you, Izuku." The world fell out from under him, and he stared back incredulously at the older boy. "I don't know how it's possible, or even if it is possible," there, again, the flash of guilt across his senpai's face gave Izuku pause before Mirio continued. "But, for what it's worth, I believe you when you say something was taken from you."
Izuku's tears were overwhelming, even for someone as used to crying as he seemed to be. A full deluge poured down his face, relief, validation, and emotions he had no name for all welling up in his chest. As he broke down, his friends were there again, pulling him into yet another group hug. There were hands on his back, his shoulder, in his hair, and Izuku desperately pressed himself into the contact as the tears kept flowing. They remained that way for some time, the others whispering gentle assurances to the boy who, for all the world, felt that he was the luckiest person alive. His friends believed him, and that was all he could have ever asked for.
Sir made his way through the deserted center, white floor tiles clicking under his shoes with every step he took down the hall. Mirio was behind him, red cape rustling gently as they crept forward into the facility past offices, exam rooms, and long abandoned gymnasiums. According to their information, the Quirk Apprehension center hadn't been used in more than five years, and the fine layer of dust which covered the entire place traced their path through the grime as they went. Bubble Girl and Centipeder had been making their own way through the facility, entering through the back and side entrances. Their continued check-ins were helping to ease Sir's growing unease, though the place still had a dangerous air to it. If what Mirio had told him concerning the boy's young friend was true, then the implications were beyond troubling. Not only was he potentially still a factor, but he was apparently operating with enough resources to practically be working in the open. While it didn't quite fit the time frame he and All Might had worked out, it left the possibility open. And for all his work, all his dedication, Sir knew that Mirio wasn't ready to face him yet.
"We've finished the search of the East and South wings, nothing here beyond old records and used office supplies," came the voice of Centipeder in his ear. He sighed.
"The fact that there are medical records present here at all is troubling, considering that there are proper methods of disposal for such items. Secure the records as evidence, we'll be conducting a full forensic analysis and accounting once we're done here." Centipeder gave his affirmative, and soon Bubble Girl did the same. Nighteye and Mirio had already cleared the North wing, and with Bubble Girl now finishing up the West wing, that left only the central offices for Sir and Mirio to work through. Motioning for the boy to stay behind him, he slipped through the swinging double doors that separated the offices from the more mundane parts of the facility, making his way from room to room with Mirio always close behind him. When their searches turned up even less than what Centipeder had found, they prepared to regroup when Mirio suddenly stopped and pointed wordlessly up the hall. Sir followed his line of sight and there, sitting unobtrusively between two plastic potted plants, was an unassuming door that didn't appear anywhere on the floor plans they had secured.
"Sir," breathed Mirio. Nighteye turned to regard his intern quizzically, before the young man continued. "Izuku mentioned that the doctor who had done his quirk apprehension test was named Tsubasa." Sure enough, etched out in imitation bronze was the nameplate in question, the words Doctor Tsubasa, Quirk Specialist, somehow still gleaming even after five years of disuse. The nameplate stared back at the pair, almost tauntingly, until Nighteye removed a small device from his pocket and made to check the layout of the building one last time before pressing forwards towards the door. Satisfied that there were no traps after a careful examination, the pair pushed into the room.
The office interior was surprisingly clean, all things considered. The dust from outside had not reached any of the surfaces, and it seemed that the paperwork in this particular work space had been more carefully removed than that in the others. Sir frowned, moving over to the large desk which sat in the center of the room, an empty bottle of sake and a set of traditional earthenware cups knocked on their sides seemingly left behind. As he drew closer, Nighteye noticed that there were some papers still present as well. They were arranged neatly on top of the desk, with what appeared to be a handwritten note alongside them, begging for a closer look.
Nighteye withdrew a pen from the recesses of his coat and gingerly lifted the topmost papers to check under them for any potential threats. Somehow satisfied that there was no danger, he donned a pair of gloves and moved behind the desk, Mirio following close behind as he began to examine the documents. They appeared to be medical reports, detailing someone's annual check ups over a period of nearly eleven years, and more confusingly, appeared to originate from an office other than the one they were in. He heard Mirio gasp behind him, and as Sir leaned in to examine the papers more closely, he felt his own breath hitch. The name at the top of every form was the same, Izuku Midoriya.
"Sir, why would they leave this. If it's who you and All Might think it is…" Mirio was glancing over the papers himself as Sir continued reading, finally having arrived at a series of brain scans taken every few years, originating when the subject, Young Midoriya he quickly reminded himself, was three years old. The image taken after his diagnosis confirmed Nighteye's worst suspicions, and he found himself sickened at the sight of the telltale patch of darkness where the boy's quirk center should have been lit up. What gave him pause however, were the subsequent scans, conducted every three years after the boy's diagnosis. The most recent one dated from when he had been thirteen, meaning he would be due for another in a year's time. In each image, the neural pathways around the damaged quirk factor appeared to be growing stronger, and overall neural activity was growing as well.
"Sir," Mirio said, snapping his attention back to his intern. The boy's eyes were watering, and Nighteye couldn't help but be reminded of how young the next Symbol of Peace really was. "Sir, the note. Have you looked at it?" Nighteye simply shook his head, and glanced over to the message, written in a neat script that was uncommon in medical professionals.
I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. Please, if he finds out what's happening to him, he will come for the boy. I can't keep him away for long.
Nighteye felt his blood turn to ice as he turned to regard Mirio with the coldest gaze his charge had ever seen. For all his intensity, the former sidekick loved humor, and could often find some joke in even the darkest of situations. Now though, the look he was giving Mirio made him fearful that his mentor might never smile again.
"Contact Tsukauchi, we have to get a handle on this and re-open the case at once," he said, running through all the work that would need to be done in his head. Mirio was already reaching for his communicator when Nighteye placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know the boy personally, right?" Mirio nodded, a spark of worry reaching his eyes. "Good, make sure you keep an eye on him. If this note is implying what I think it is, he may be in just as much danger as you or All Might." Mirio gave him a smile in return, though it wasn't quite the one Nighteye had come to know from him. Dutifully, the young hero exited the room and began to place a call to the most dependable detective he knew.
Chapter 5: Loneliness and Validation
With ten months until the entrance exam, Izuku was beginning to feel the stress of his situation much more keenly. Mirio and the others were back at UA full time, and Mei was in a different school, so he had returned to his status as a loner. The isolation was familiar, but he did his best to view his circumstances as a positive thing. He spent more and more time cataloging observations on his classmates' quirks, as well as jotting down ideas for his gear. Besides, he still saw his friends while training on Sundays. Somehow though, it wasn't quite enough for him, and Izuku began to wonder if he was being greedy about the time they all spent together.
Regardless of his personal feelings, his work with Lynchpin in isolating the mechanisms behind most of his classmates' quirks were coming along nicely. Some would be easy to reproduce mechanically, while others were wholly unique. Extendable fingers would have been simple to reproduce, a few small changes to his gauntlet design would easily allow him to mimic the effect, even if the control was somewhat lacking. Conversely, while he had been able to imitate the result of Bakugo's quirk, he was still limited by a reliance on a finite, external fuel source for the blasts.
He had a solution, one which could use his own body's natural energy to mimic the biochemical reactions that the other boy used to produce his nitroglycerin-sweat. Unfortunately, while the designs were theoretically quite sound, he had no access to the kinds of materials and catalysts that would be used for on-demand manufacture of the explosive substance, nor did he have tools powerful or precise enough to safely miniaturize the machine into something that could fit inside his armor. All of this meant that until he got into UA and got access to the support department and its facilities, his designs would be limited by the practical reality of his situation. If he wanted to achieve combat prowess similar to Bakugo by the time of the entrance exam, he would have to get creative.
While thinking about the boy, Izuku paused to consider that Bakugo hadn't touched him since their fight near the beach. He still took every opportunity he had to berate Izuku of course, but his heart didn't seem to be in it as much as it used to be. On one occasion he had even seen the boy intercept another of his bullies before he could catch him as he hurried home from school one day, but he had chalked it up as a mere coincidence. The hurtful words had never stopped though, and if anything the sudden reprieve from physical violence on Bakugo's part had intensified the verbal abuse from all sources.
That day had been particularly bad, with the entire class laughing at him when they heard he would be applying to UA. Bakugo exploded in his seat, but had otherwise been quiet. That was almost worse than the old insults, Izuku had thought, and he wondered if this was simply the quiet before the storm. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to defend himself again.
The small metal band he now wore at the base of his neck, held on through some process Mei had referred to as bio-magnetism, was a comfort. Along with the metal brace that sat under his uniform on his right arm most days, he was feeling fairly confident in his own abilities. Though he hadn't yet perfected the casing, the new gauntlet was much more resilient than his original prototype and Izuku was sure that in the months before the exam he would be able to complete his major project.
As he was walking home, lost in thought, he found himself passing underneath a bridge, the road mostly empty except for some trash which happened to be fluttering by. His class' taunts still ringing in his ears, he shook his head clear of their mocking laughter, and thought about his friends instead. They would always have a plethora of reassurances ready whenever he started to doubt himself, so he threw his head back, one arm raised triumphantly, and stood with feet apart, bracing himself as he belted out his best imitation of Mirio.
"POWER, HA HA HA!" He smiled, feeling the rush at shouting his conviction, his determination to the world, wondering for a moment if this was how his friend and mentor felt all the time. In his exhilaration, he failed to notice the manhole cover in the street behind him sliding open, and the subsequent rush of grey green ooze that exploded from the opening. In a flash it was on him, strangely cold, sticky tentacles holding Izuku's arms to his side as the villain leaned the boy's head back and stared into his widening eyes.
"A medium sized invisibility cloak, perfect. Now just stop struggling kid, it won't hurt for long. Forty five seconds and it'll all be over." Even as it spoke, the rancid thing was sliding its mass over Izuku's face, probing his mouth and nose for entrance. He was suffocating, he realized, and he would either open his mouth trying to breathe, or would pass out, and then the villain would have him. As he was, there was no technique he could use to escape, no kick, punch, elbow or any combination thereof to escape from the blanket of viscous slime that was rolling over him. Desperation sparking in the back of his mind, Izuku did the only thing left that he could think of. He reached out to his gauntlet.
It wasn't ready of course, and if he could have simply pressed the button on the inside of his gauntlet to activate it he would have done so, but as the slime held his fingers back he was left with no other choice. The plate on the back of his neck tingled, responding to a nerve impulse for something he didn't have, like a phantom limb twitching long after it was gone. He wasn't sure how it worked, exactly, the design had come to him during a night of fitful dreams and manic planning, and when he had awoken fully the next day he had already been writing his plans for the interface in one of his notebooks. He pulled on the sensation, again, one more time, willing the empty place inside him to just work even if there was nothing for it to work with. The darkness was closing in, spots forming in the corner of his vision, and with absolute horror, he thought about how his Mom, how his friends, would react to his death.
Whether it was the terror, the adrenaline, or a misfiring neuron, something clicked in that moment, and down by his wrist, the metal gauntlet he wore under his clothes expanded over his fingers, stopping just below the first knuckle. Motors whined to life, a charge building along the length of the gauntlet, and then, there was fire.
The blast wasn't as big as those Bakugo usually made, but the dispersal was much tighter, and as the explosion ripped outwards from his now armored palm, Izuku felt the villain release its stranglehold. The kickback was much stronger than his original prototype's, and he felt his shoulder ache under the force, but he kept going. Pulling on that same feeling, willing the glove to activate, more explosions sparked as the slime was gradually blasted free from his side and then, blessedly, his mouth was clear and he was able to take a desperate, gasping breath.
"You, you little brat , I said to stop struggling! I'll flatten you, you little shit!" The villain's threats were halted near instantly by the arrival of a massive figure erupting from the now open manhole cover, white shirt over green combat pants, a serious, lined face, and the unmistakable golden hair that shot upwards like a twin antenna. The number one hero had arrived, his trademark smile adorning a face that was as larger than life as the rest of him.
"It's all right now young man! I am here!" The pro leaned back, his smile never once faltering, and let loose a blast of wind pressure that sent both Izuku and the slime villain flying. The last thing he saw before his head hit the road was All Might's worried look as he reached out to him.
They were on a rooftop now, Izuku having clung to All Might's leg as he prepared to jump away after saving him. His question had hung heavy in the air, All Might not turning to regard him when he suddenly coughed up a terrifying amount of blood and shrank into an emaciated husk in a flash of steam. After some reassurances that the man before him was indeed All Might, Izuku had been told to sit. The explanation he received had horrified him, if not so much for what it meant for society as for what it implied for the man before him. Without thinking, he had pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the pro, who gazed at it for a moment before taking it and using it to wipe his mouth of blood.
Their conversation after that was short.
"A pro should always be ready to risk his life. Without power, can one become a hero? No, I should think not." He had offered some platitudes after that, some vague suggestion about becoming a police officer, and just like that, All Might disappeared down the stairwell, and out of Izuku's life. Following his dismissal, the boy had stared at the gauntlet he hadn't been given the chance to show to his one time idol, before finally making his way down to the street where he shuffled along aimlessly. Intellectually of course, he knew that what the man had said wasn't true, and Eraserhead was living proof that one didn't need power to become a hero. Emotionally though, he was utterly devastated. The one hero who always told people they could be heroes had told him no. He walked, all the while unconsciously drawing closer to the sound of distant explosions.
Izuku was running before he could stop himself, Death Arms and Kamui Woods shouting useless warnings behind him as he locked eyes with the terrified red orbs peeking out from beneath the shifting mass of slime. His backpack was off his shoulders and hurtling through the air into the villain's eye even as he tore desperately at his sleeve, pushing aside wiring and cables until he found the canister that was buried near the crook of his arm, nestled deep in the brace to prevent an accidental discharge. With a shout of fury he yanked the small yellow cylinder free and was already slotting a new cable into the space it had occupied, his palm crackling now with a constant hum of electricity instead of the usual sparks. The cylinder itself was spinning through the air, almost in slow motion as its loose top spilled a dense, clear liquid over the villain.
"Kacchan," he shouted, jumping up and into the slime as he tried to claw handfuls of the stuff away from the other boy's face. "Kacchan, Kacchan, fight him, you're strong Kacchan, just set some explosions off, I-" He stopped as his arm finally found purchase within the slime, grasping firmly around Bakugo's wist as he yanked it free and clear of the slime. Time seemed to slow as Bakugo made eye contact with him, fear giving way to confusion, then rage, then...something else?
"Why you stupid cheater? Why'd you?"
"I don't know Kacchan I...you looked like you were asking for help."
The explosion wasn't the largest he'd ever produced, but mixing with the accelerant Izuku had managed to spread over the villain, it was enough to knock the two boys free. Tumbling backwards, the pair could only gawk as the massive figure of the number one hero, steam rising gently from his shoulders, stepped between them and the villain.
"Pathetic…" Izuku felt his heart sink at the words, but its descent was stopped as All Might turned and fixed him with a bleeding smile. "The lesson I tried to teach...Ha, I really am pathetic if I can't practice what I preach." His fist reared back, and Izuku would swear later that the man had winked before he let fly. "A pro should always be ready to risk his life!"
The impact threw them back, even as the villain was blown into pieces by the wind pressure. The onlookers screamed, either in relief or excitement, it was impossible to tell. The clouds, momentarily parted, then rushed back together overhead, and it began to rain. Mixing together with the downpour, no one was able to notice Izuku's tears as he and Bakugo were carried off to the waiting EMTs.
It was sunset finally, after his scolding from the heroes and some pointed questions about unregistered support technology. Thankfully, the pros had decided that their time would be better spent courting Bakugo as a future sidekick than investigating some kid with a glorified lighter on his arm. He sighed, wondering what he would tell Mirio and the others when he saw them again, how he would tell them that their efforts had been wasted on him. If even the number one, the man who always said 'you can do it' had told him that it was impossible, then maybe it was time to be more realistic. He could apply to the support course with Hatsume, after all, and maybe that way he could still help to save people.
"DEKU," came the angry shout from behind him, and there, seemingly appearing from thin air, was his tormentor. He looked ready to kill, but was still keeping a ways back. His palms, for once, weren't smoking, and Izuku wondered if he had exhausted all his sweat beating away the villain.
"K-Kacchan, I-I'm s-sorry I d-didn't m-mean to get in y-your w-way b-b-but the pros didn't s-seem-"
"Shut the fuck up nerd, and let me talk," he huffed, hands retreating into his pockets and eyes downcast. He looked up, and Izuku couldn't help but be taken aback by how hurt he looked, how unsure he was. "The pros were gonna let me die, shithead, they just kept waiting around for someone with a better quirk to come. I can't get mad at you for that, even if you really fucking deserve it." The last part was said quietly, and in the silence that stretched between them, Izuku almost thought he found something approaching...respect on his former friend's face.
"Kacchan, I-"
"I said let me talk, god damn it!" He spat, stopping the apology before Izuku could eek it out. "You're never gonna hear me say this again, so listen up shitnerd. I was...wrong. Nobody else saw it, not even you, specially not me, but...fuck it, you're strong in ways that other people aren't. So take the damn test and meet me at UA, or I'll kill you." Izuku was stunned by the words, tears springing up at the corners of his eyes, and the wound in his soul pulsing angrily. Of everything he could have expected, this would never have crossed his mind, especially from Bakugo of all people.
"B-but, why? After all this t-time? I'm just a pebble, you said so yourself, so why would you change your mind now?" Bakugo looked conflicted for a moment, before making a dismissive sound under his breath and turning around, stalking off with his posture slouched forward.
"Fuck that noise, shitty Deku! You're not gonna beat me, nerd! But...when we were kids, you said we'd be heroes, and I said I'd be the strongest! That's still true, so don't go giving up now, after all this shit, after you worked so fucking hard to try and prove me wrong! I'm gonna meet you at UA, and I'm gonna show you there, that I'll always win, and then I'm gonna beat you into the fucking ground. So get over your shitty little pity party or whatever this is, and just come and get me." He stalked away then, not looking back as he disappeared down a side street, his words reverberating though Izuku's shocked mind.
To say that Izuku was conflicted in that moment would have been an understatement tantamount to calling a tsunami a light drizzle. Bakugo had, well, it hadn't quite been an apology, but he had acknowledged him and his efforts, after years of derision, after years of beatings, and even after he had finally stood up for himself. Why now? Had it been the rescue, something he had said while they fought for their lives? Did Bakugo really think that he could still be a hero, even when the number one had said he couldn't? Sniffling, Izuku wiped away the tears in his eyes and began walking back home, head held a little higher, and his heart a bit less empty.
It was another fifteen minutes before Toshinori was able to find the kid whose dream he had crushed, the same kid who had thrown his own words back in his face. Watching him from down the road, he noticed the boy walking a little taller than he had been before, though he could still make out tear tracks through the soot on his face. His wound pounded at him insistently, and he pleaded with himself for just a little more time. If he was going to do this, he would do it right.
"I am here!" he yelled, sliding out into the road in what he hoped was an inspirational pose. The kid jumped, hair practically standing on end as he looked around frantically and began to mumble hasty apologies and questions. Toshinori simply threw his head back and laughed.
"Shaking off the press is nothing for me, young Midoriya, after all, I am All Migh -" he was cut off mid sentence by his time finally giving out on him, his body deflating in a flash of steam and blood rising to his lips. Oh crap I hope no one besides the kid saw that . Glancing around, he was surprised to find Young Midoriya had crossed over to him, and had produced another packet of tissues which he was offering up, concern etched all over the boy's face.
"A-all M-m-might I'm so s-sorry, because of m-me the villain g-got away and y-y-you went over your l-limit, a-and I just got in the way, a-and I can't even begin to-" Toshinori stopped the boy's imminent rant with a raised hand and a thumbs up.
"My boy," he said, taking in a lungful of air before continuing, "I didn't seek you out for apologies, at least from you." Izuku's eyes widened, and Toshinori found himself unable to suppress the grin crawling over his skeletal face. "My boy, I've come to revise what I said earlier, and if you're willing to humour me, to ask a few questions and perhaps make a suggestion."
"H-huh, what?"
"Earlier, when the villain escaped, if I hadn't had your story still in my head, if I hadn't seen you throw yourself into danger, I would have stood by like the rest of those pros and done nothing. I would have been nothing more than fake muscles and insincerity, so for that you have my thanks!"
"B-but, all I did was get in the way, even though I don't have any real quirk, and all I did was bother you when I asked…"
"Exactly, my boy!" Izuku was shaking now, probably trying to hold back the tears and the misplaced guilt. Toshinori reached out and took his shoulder before he continued. "Of all the people there, it was only you, timid and powerless, that rushed into action! You drove me to act!" The boy was bending down now, clutching his chest, and Toshinori couldn't help but feel another pang of guilt run through him. How hypocritical had he been, to discount another quirkless person so quickly? Had he truly become so jaded after all this time?
"Most of the top heroes show signs of greatness, even as children...Many of them claim that, in times of great danger, they simply moved before they had time to think." Izuku was crying now, two new streams of tears tracing fresh tracks through the dust and grime on his face. "That's what happened to you today, isn't it, young Midoriya?"
"Y-yes, I, yes." His eyes were a waterfall, years of pain, doubt, grief, and even loss wracking his features as Toshinori knelt down in front of him, one hand gently lifting his face to meet his eyes. Blurry emeralds met shining blue in that moment, and Toshinori knew that his next words were what the young man had been waiting his whole life to hear.
"Young Midoriya, you can become a hero!"
It was later. The sun had set, and Izuku Midoriya was sitting on a park bench near the beach he had been cleaning for more than a year, eating ice cream with All Might. If the day's events hadn't been so utterly surreal, he might have found the situation funny. As it was, he was content to simply see where the rest of the utterly nonsensical day might take him.
All Might had been a wonderful rock of stability following their talk, answering Izuku's simple questions and providing context to stories of his heroic exploits over the years. He had recounted the Toxic Chainsaw fight in great detail, and Izuku felt his mind struggling to take in just how powerful the villain must have really been. The incident that had wounded All Might remained unaccounted for, and he couldn't help but be glad that the hero didn't feel the need to relate any more of that tale. Still, it seemed there was something troubling him, and after they had finished their ice cream the silence between them began to stretch uncomfortably long. Finally, All Might spoke.
"Young Midoriya, you said you are quirkless, correct?" Izuku nodded mutely, staring out at the almost totally cleared coastline. "And yet, earlier, when I first encountered you, I thought I saw you manifest a power similar to the young man you charged in to save? What was that, if you don't mind my asking?" Izuku shrugged, lifting up his already tattered uniform sleeve to give All Might a better look at his underlying gauntlet. Pieces were disjointed, and it seemed to have lost a few components during the incident, but for the most part it was intact.
"When I realized I couldn't become a hero without a quirk, I started trying to find ways to supplement that. I took classes in martial arts, did gymnastics, and started to try and build equipment like some of the pros use. Have you ever heard of Eraserhead? He's an underground hero."
"Ah, as a matter of fact, I met him not too long ago," said All Might, rubbing his chin thoughtfully with a bony hand.
"Well, when I first got diagnosed as quirkless, the doctor at the facility told me about Eraserhead and how he basically just turns every fight between him and a villain into a fight between two people without quirks, and that it doesn't even work on mutation type quirks. He said that skill was more important for him than power. And I figured, well, if I couldn't rely on power, then skill, and supplementary things, like my gauntlet, might let me become a hero another way." All Might nodded sagely.
"Even when the world was against you, you were still striving, finding examples to look up to. Tell me, my boy, if you were so determined, why did you feel the need to ask me my opinion? Surely your own convictions should have been enough." Izuku looked away for a moment, then shuffled his feet before responding.
"I've had a lot of great people tell me that I could do it, you know? But, I've had a lot more tell me I couldn't, and, w-well today was a pretty bad day." He felt the interface on the back of his neck twinge then, and he wondered if he should tell All Might his thoughts on that particular matter. Maybe he would know something about stolen quirks, considering how high up in the world of heroes he was. His train of thought was interrupted by what came next, however.
"I see. Young Midoriya, did I hear you correctly when you said that you were the one who had built your gauntlet?" Long fingers poked delicately at the mess of wires and metal plates, managing to prod a smile from the boy.
"Uh, yeah, well, I, uh, I don't want to brag but I'm pretty good with technology and stuff. Stuff being the mechanisms that quirks operate by, and trying to replicate them mechanically. Oh, and I have a friend whose even better at like, the engineering principles, and she's trying to get into UA too, only as a support course student, so sometimes we work together on my projects like this, since I know you can bring any items you make yourself to the entrance exam and I figured that…"
"Kid, kid? You still with me?" Izuku startled, then sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.
"Uh, yeah, sorry, sometimes I get going and I don't know how to stop." All Might took it in stride, laughing at the explanation and giving Izuku another thumbs up.
"My boy, when I found you earlier, I mentioned I wanted to apologize, but I also said I had a suggestion for you. Are you interested in what I have to say?" Izuku looked at the hero with wide eyes, not quite understanding, but nodded anyways.
"I cannot give you power, unfortunately, but I hope I can help you to grow the power that you make yourself, especially in time for the entrance exam. I'll be teaching at UA starting this year, and I would feel privileged to have a young man with such a heroic spirit in my class." He looked around furtively, suddenly wary of a certain fuzzy white someone's ever present eyes and ears. "T-that last part's supposed to be secret though, so keep that between us, ok?" Izuku nodded at him, eyes wide as saucers.
"That's so cool though! That must be why you're here then, right All Might? You're getting moved into the area before you start?"
"That was the plan kid, but now I've got something else I want to do. It seems for the most part you've been training yourself hard, but I think there's more resources you could use to help develop your ideas. You're a fanboy, right? Tell me, do you know a man by the name of David Shield?"
The look of wonder on Izuku's face was all the confirmation that he needed, and he couldn't help but laugh again at the determination the lad was showing. He smiled even wider when he realized that the boy had barely stuttered at all during their conversation.
Nighttime on I-Island was always a peaceful period, the locals making full use of their quirks as they eased the day's worries with a number of activities. Quirked sports were popular, as were unique art shows, and other performance pieces. Many simply chose to socialize at their favorite bars, relaxing in the company of friends and their inventing rivals. Melissa had gone to a new ice cream vendor on her pogo, one of the more frivolous designs she had created, and it always brought a smile to David's face to see her bounding along the streets on it. His office was quiet, Sam having left for the evening, his resentment towards the higher ups slowly wearing him down. Dave knew he would have to talk to him soon, but for the moment he was content to let his friend stew. He had his own problems to worry about.
Dragging a hand over his face and letting out a long, tired sigh, he looked over to the photo he kept in a place of honor on his wall. A younger, brighter version of himself was leaning into the controls of one of his early support vehicles. Leaping ahead of him and almost out of the frame, the shining light that was his best friend was captured in all his youthful glory, fist raised and winning smile announcing his presence to the world. The photographer had captured them moments before All Might had slammed into a fleeing villain during the two's time in L.A., with Dave hot on his heels. Those were better times, he thought to himself. Brighter days, before the lights began to fade and the world of heroes began to lose its lustre.
A ringing on his desk startled him from his reminiscing, and his heart leapt when he glanced at the contact flashing across the screen of his phone.
"Toshinori, to what do I owe the pleasure? It's been too long, old friend."
"Dave, I'm glad I was able to catch you at the office still! How's little Melissa doing?"
"Growing up fast, and in desperate need of a visit from her favorite uncle. But it isn't really like you to call out of the blue. What can I do for you, Toshi?"
"Ha, am I really that transparent?"
"No, I just know you well enough to know you'd only call at this hour if it was important." He looked out his office window as he spoke, gentle bursts of color from some fireworks casting him in a myriad of colors.
"Actually Dave, it's not strictly about me that I was calling you. I've met a young man that reminds me an awful lot of you, and with the brain to match! I was hoping to put you in contact with him so he could prepare for the UA entrance exams a little better. He's got some bright ideas for equipment, and the fire in his eyes reminds me of myself!" There was a chuckle on the other line, and Dave found himself wondering just how long it had been since he'd heard Toshi sound genuinely enthusiastic about something. Not since his injury, surely.
"Sure Toshi, you can pass along my contact info. Everything will have to be remote, you know, but I'd be happy to look over the kid's work. Melissa might find it nice to have a pen pal as well."
"Thanks a million Dave, I'm sure you're gonna love the kid! I'll send you the info now!"
"You do that Toshi, and hopefully you can bring him out here to meet us in person sooner rather than later, huh? Melissa's not the only one that misses Uncle Might." He had to hold his phone away from his ear at the booming laughter that remark elicited, and as he watched the contact information for Izuku Midoriya scroll across his screen he let the conversation drift into old battles and fond memories. It was two more hours before he hung up, and he hadn't felt as light as he did then in weeks.