Chapter 1: What it Takes to be a (Quirkless) Hero
All men are not created equal, that is a truth Izuku has lived with since he was four years old. But just when he thought he understood what it meant to be quirkless in a society full of amazing abilities, the universe finds new ways to remind him of his worthlessness.
Everything he's done up until this point has been trying to prove to everyone, to prove to himself, that it wasn't true. That he could be valuable despite his diagnosis, that he too could be a hero. But as he slinks home today, tired and empty, he feels more useless than ever.
Kacchan almost died today and Izuku couldn't do a thing about it. He rubs the palm of his hand roughly into his eye to fight off the frustrated tears. What had he been thinking? Running out like that when not even the heroes on the scene had been willing to tackle the delicate situation had been insane.
He's lucky All Might appeared out of nowhere to stop the sludge monster or both of them would've been killed. Normally meeting All Might would lift his spirits but the Number One had come and gone before he'd even had a chance to ask one of the hundreds of questions on his mind.
It was like he'd somehow sensed that quirkless Izuku wasn't worth a second more of his time. Instead he was left sprawled on the ground beside Kacchan, shaking from the adrenaline, covered in sludge with the light rain All Might's single punch drizzling down on him; feeling like he's just missed out on something important.
Before he could even process what had happened, he'd been hauled to his feet by one of the heroes in the area. The very same heroes who stood by and did nothing while Kacchan was suffocating right in front of them, he'd thought bitterly.
At first, there had been praise and congratulations but, of course, that dried up once they got around to asking about his quirk. As always, their cheer turned to disgust and their appreciation became a lecture on his recklessness and stupidity. It wasn't anything he hasn't heard before, but this time seemed to cut all the deeper.
Maybe it's because All Might swept in and ignored him just like everyone else. Maybe that the adrenaline and anxiety that had initially propelled him forward had left him even more tired and vulnerable than normal. Or maybe it was the fact that the heroes stood there lecturing him for doing their job all the while admiring Kacchan's bravery in the face of adversity. The double standard burned in his chest but not as much as his former friend's glare that said he'd have rather died than accept the help of a quirkless nothing.
Izuku hasn't been on good terms with Kacchan for a while... which is a nice way of saying that Kacchan has been making his life hell for the past ten years or so. But still as much as Kacchan infuriated him, terrified him, Izuku has always respected the other boy's strength and determination to succeed. Seeing strong, vibrant Kaachan with that fearful expression is what spurned him into action but the look Kacchan gave him afterwards made Izuku wonder if he should just learn to stop butting in and figure out that he really isn't good for anything.
He'd been able to gather up his scattered belongings and slip past the nagging heroes and nosy reporters. Only a few acknowledged Izuku's role in the fight and none of them bothered to ask him any questions. In this society, the quirkless might as well be invisible, it's practically a quirk in and of itself. He'd laugh if it wasn't so exhausting.
So Izuku stumbles home, feeling hyperaware of his surroundings but also in something of a distracted daze. He's not quite sure what he's going to do now. All he knows to do is dream; it's the only option he has available to him since no one, not his teachers, not society, not the Number One himself, was willing to give him a chance to do more.
But maybe they're right? It's not like he actually did anything useful back there. He couldn't save Kacchan, couldn't save himself after he rushed in before his brain caught up with his stupid legs. Maybe it was time he gave up on his foolish dream of being a hero.
"Deku!" Izuku automatically freezes at the angry cry. He turns to see Kacchan, breathing heavily and angrily behind him, as if he'd run all the way from the crime scene. Kacchan has already passed his house, why was he here now?
"I never asked for you to come help me!" the blond shouts, looking angrier than Izuku had ever seen him and yet, there were no explosions coming from his hands and he doesn't look like he was going attack. Izuku tenses up and prepares for the worst anyway.
"I didn't need to be saved, Ok? I could have taken care of myself! You're so goddamn useless Deku, what were you thinking, you didn't do shit!" With a final sneer, Kacchan turns on his heels and stalks back to his house leaving Izuku slightly stunned at the uncharacteristic confrontation. "Stay out of my fucking way, I don't owe you anything!" Izuku blinks as Kacchan leaves as a new feeling started to overwhelm all the anger and emptiness inside of him.
Relief.
Kacchan… was okay. He wasn't afraid anymore, he wasn't hurting and slowly being drowned in sludge. He makes Izuku sick with pent up fear, anger and hopelessness and yet... Izuku was still happy the boy he once called a friend was alive.
Izuku smiles fondly to himself and continues his journey home. Kacchan was right, he didn't really do anything and, in the end, he only got in the way of the real heroes but that's not the point. The point is, no matter how insignificant he was, he'd played a role in getting his friend out alive.
He brings his head up, puts his shoulders back and walks forward with a new purpose. Izuku has no delusions of being a real hero; the path to Number One might as well be Jupiter. But that doesn't mean he couldn't be a hero in his own way. Not every hero was an All Might or Endeavor, they also needed smaller heroes for smaller things. It wouldn't be the most glamorous job and there would only be so much he could do, but it would be better than nothing.
The thought makes him smile as he picks up his pace and hurries home. Maybe this incident will finally convince his mom to let him take self-defense classes. He could do some research on strength building regimes and continue to hone his analytical skills and maybe, just maybe, someday someone will need a quirkless nobody like him.
XxX
"Damn sludge monster," All Might, currently in his true form as Yagi Toshinori, curses quietly in English as he clutches his wound and staggers back home. His breathing was rough and haggard, harsh with foamy blood clogging his throat. He pretends not to notice the frightened mother ahead of him who hurriedly pushes her baby stroller to the other side of the street when she sees him. He doesn't blame her but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.
Toshinori had just wanted to get some groceries was all. The small city he'd moved to was quiet but, most importantly, it was closer to Yuuei than his old apartment had been. He coughs wetly into his fist, he'd left Might Tower early today so he could grocery shop on his way home. Of course he had to run into a rampaging monster and of course he had to save the day. He was All Might, that's what he did and Nana would expect nothing less of her successor.
He'd almost used up One for All for the day and so he'd hoped to make an easy capture but the monster had been quite slippery, pun intended. At one point, Toshinori almost had the creature when it had started up a street drain but had changed its mind at the last second and given further chase through the sewers.
The worst part is he lost track of the damn thing when he was just barely holding onto One For All. For good or for ill, it was a scream that helped him locate the monster again. He'd come across a terrifying scene; a young boy engulfed in the sludge, clearly terrified and unable to escape despite his powerful quirk. There'd been another boy there too, small and plain, clawing desperately at the monster in an attempt to save his friend. All Might wasted no time in smashing that monster into tiny, manageable pieces and pulling the children to safety.
There were cheers in the air, the sound of clicking cameras and sobs of relief but all Toshinori could pay attention to was the slow steam beginning to rise from his body, thankfully disguised by the falling rain. With a smile and the obligatory assurances, All Might had leapt into the air like the majestic hero he is. He landed a short distance away in an alley where Toshinori appeared in his place and promptly spit up a good amount of blood. Today just hasn't been his day.
So here he is now, walking home scaring young mothers, without his groceries and feeling utterly spent. Toshinori rubs at his eyes and to think he'd wanted nothing more than to be a hero when he was younger. He wonders if he'd have been so eager if he'd known what heroism was really about: pain and shoving aside weakness to appease the public. His mouth twists unhappily. That's... not really how he feels, it's just been a long day is all.
As he walks, he thinks mostly about what he can eat tonight now that his groceries are lost and how he can justify this disaster to Tsukauchi who will be understandably upset over the mess he left behind. Toshinori doesn't think about his increasing need for a successor, though that is usually in the back of his mind, bouncing around without ever quite settling. He certainly doesn't think about the boys he'd saved earlier, two of millions he's rescued over his illustrious career. But even old, worn down by the weight of the world, there's a niggling sense like there was something he'd missed. Something important.
Midoriya Izuku is being inspired to not let his quirklessness get in the way of his dreams by the time Toshinori turns into his neighborhood. They walk in opposite directions but both of them carry a sense of loss, like an opportunity came and went without so much as a warning.
Neither can know this, but far, far away in another universe, Midoriya Izuku runs into Number One Hero, All Might, for the third time that day and is given an opportunity he can't refuse. But in this one, the hero and his potential successor continue on in opposite directions not knowing just how much work will be needed to reconnect their paths.
Chapter 2: Toned Muscles
If Izuku was going to get into Yuuei, he needed to toughen up, physically and mentally. Right now, there was hardly anything heroic about him. If he wanted to get anywhere, he needed to start getting serious. The night following the sludge incident, Izuku pledged that he would put everything he had in order to pass Yuuei's entrance exam.
And just like that, his ten months of hell had begun.
Every morning Izuku woke up early for runs and did push-ups and crunches and lifted weights every evening. It was absolutely exhausting but he couldn't slow down. He needed to build himself and he needed to do it fast. But he had to be smart about it; to compete with the hero kids' quirks, he'd need to fight smarter not harder. Exercising was all well and good but Izuku knew he needed a proper teacher if he wanted to get anywhere.
In the end, it wasn't all that hard to convince his mother to let him sign up for martial arts classes. He'd fought down the guilt clawing at the back of his throat when he explained that he was only interested in self-defense. It's better this way, he told himself as he looked into all the martial arts styles that would best serve his purposes.
Izuku spent a week researching his options and coming up with a plan before he takes his first step. He decided to start simple. His middle school had an after-school Aikido club that was offered for free. He'd always skipped out on afterschool activities in favor of hero chasing but, if he wants to become Japan's first quirkless hero, then he needed step up.
However, just getting into the class ended up being more trouble than he'd initially thought. The instructor kept telling him he couldn't join for increasingly more ridiculous reasons. It didn't take him long to realize that he probably didn't want the hassle of 'accommodating' for the school's only quirkless kid. This, of course, only made him more determined. Only once Izuku got his mother involved and threatened to go to the school board did they finally decide it was easier to just let him join. It was a hollow victory but, when you're quirkless, you take what you can get.
The club itself wasn't too bad, most people were happy enough to ignore him. Izuku learned and soaked up every bit of knowledge he could, pushing himself every meeting and practicing before and after school. It was exhausting, starting from the bottom to build up his strength and stamina but he progressed, bit by agonizing bit.
But Aikido, a strong defensive art, wasn't going to be enough. If he really wanted to go pro, he had to learn more offensive moves as well. In his research, Izuku had found a small academy almost an hour out of his way that was exactly what he was looking for. So he told his mom he was going to be late one afternoon and hopped on the train after school, trembling with nervous anticipation all the way.
This was his starting line, now he just had to reach it.
The academy was small, but well kept, tucked neatly out of the way. Izuku entered quietly, explained his situation to the receptionist and was shown back to the dojo where he waited five, then ten minutes. Finally, the door slid open and a tall, lean man came in. He had a few days worth of growth on his thin face and stern eyes; his black hair with a receding hairline was pulled back into a messy bun.
"I'm not taking any more students," the man stated gruffly as his dark eyes flicked up and down Izuku's body with disinterest. "Especially undisciplined children who think they can walk in off the streets and learn a martial art like it's some sort of game," he folded his arms over his chest. "The door is that way, I hope the rest of your afternoon is spent doing something more productive." With a brusque nod, he turned to go.
"Your name is Rikimaru Daiki, you're 39 years old and your quirk is Rooting which allows you to stick yourself to any surface you touch and not be moved." Izuku shouted desperately, he clenched his fingers into his pants, balling up the material and forcing himself to make eye contact when Rikimaru turned back with a bored expression.
"You're something of a local celebrity in the martial arts world. You came onto the scene 20 years ago with no official training and no sponsors to support you. You lost more than you won at first but as you learned the rules of organized martial arts, you began taking in victory after victory. In interviews, you said you learned to fight on your own when, in fact, you probably learned during your time living on the streets and the 3 years you spent in reform school. You officially retired from professional fighting 2 years ago and you opened this academy. They say you're notoriously picky with your students, taking only those you consider worthy regardless of how much they can pay you." Izuku grit his teeth, tearing his eyes away from the man to glare angrily at the floor as he could feel hot tears burning in the corner of his eyes. He tried to stop them but he was too full of want and desperation that he couldn't stop them. Izuku spared a second to wipe at his eyes before making eye contact again.
"I want to learn Jeet Kune Do and I came here, out of all the academies in the city, because you know what it means to have to fight for something, to sweat and bleed for a drop of respect from the people who'd much rather kick you down and see you fail." Izuku's throat felt dry from the intensity of Rikimaru's stare but he persevered.
"I've had to fight every day of my life just to stay afloat. I need to learn to channel the drive I feel inside and I believe you are the only one who can help me. I understand that I'm untrained but I still beg of you to consider taking me as your student." Izuku took a deep long breath and bowed his head, hoping that he managed to say something right in that mess.
"That's quite the introduction young man. You've got spunk, I'll give you that, but tell me," Rikimaru closed the distance between them and squatted down so they're more level. Izuku sniffled slightly and looked up to meet the man's hard but curious eyes. "What exactly is your drive? Why do you need to learn Jeet Kune Do so bad? This isn't a fun fighting style, it's meant to be strong and aggressive. A boy like you shouldn't need that."
"I-I," Izuku stuttered as he swallowed thickly, trying to loosen up his tongue. He thought back to that day not long ago: the unmoving crowd of civilians and heroes, the rancid smell of heated sludge and Kaachan's desperate, fearful gaze that had him running without a second thought. And just like that, Izuku finds his voice.
"I'm going to go to Yuuei and I'm going to become the first quirkless hero. I won't be the strongest, or the fastest, of your students. But if you agree to train me, I can promise you that I will work twice as hard as anyone you have ever taken on before. I'll have to if I want to reach my goal." Izuku put on his fiercest look and dared the older man to laugh at him. Predictably, he did anyway.
Rikimaru pulled back and laughed heartily as if Izuku's lifelong dream was just a joke which it probably is in all honesty. Izuku took a deep breath and tried to steady himself; it's not like he wasn't used to that sort of reaction. He'd been so focused on trying not to appear upset that he was startled when Rikimaru's large hand landed on his head. The older man squatted down again with a wry smile on his face.
"A quirkless hero, huh? and here I thought I'd heard everything. What's your name, son?"
"M-M-Midoriya Izuku," he stammered out, "does this mean you'll take me on, Sir?" The hand on his head began to roughly ruffle his hair.
"First of all, that's Shishou to you," Rikimaru answered gruffly, but not unkindly, as he stood back up and began to stretch out his limbs. "Second, I think you're crazy, Midoriya but I've seen your kind before. I know all too well that you're going to keep searching until you find someone just as crazy as you are to teach you. Might as well make sure you do it safely and smartly."
Izuku was so used to disappointment that it took him a few seconds to process just what the man, his new master, had told him. He immediately stood up and dipped into a low bow out of respect and also to hide the fact that he'd started to cry yet again.
"Thank you Rikimaru-shishou! I won't let you down I promise, I'll give it everything I have and then some."
"Don't thank me yet boy. You promised me you'd work twice as hard and I'm going to hold you to that and, believe me, if I think for one instant that you aren't worth my time, you're out. You got that?" Izuku nodded vigorously. "Alright, I'll expect you here every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday from 1600 to 1900 where I'll make you sweat, bleed and cry and maybe turn you into a real martial artist."
"Alright! I'm also taking Aikido at my school so I'll just skip on Mondays and Wednesdays and come right here. Um in my research it said you usually negotiated your fee depending on the student. It's just me and my mom so we don't have a lot of extra money. I can talk with my mom about what we can afford and we can work something out for my first lesson." Izuku muttered quietly under his breath only to stop when he saw Rikimaru-shishou finish his stretches and remove his shirt.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much, kid?" Rikimaru-shishou said as he slipped into a casual fighting stance. "We can work out all that stuff while you show me what you've got. Do you happen to know what day it is, Midoriya?" Shinshou grinned in a way that was slightly menacing. "It's Wednesday, your first lesson begins now. Let your mother know you're going to be late. There are some spare uniforms in the back, find something in your size and change into it. I'm sure your mother doesn't want to clean blood out of your school clothes."
Izuku ended up getting home very late that night having spent hours with Rikimaru-shishou planning his new training regimen. He was tired and aching and probably going to be even more so tomorrow but he felt happier than he'd felt in a long while. Finally, he was on his way. He eagerly spoke with his mother over their dinner about Rikimaru-shishou and the quite reasonable fee the man asked for when his mom set down her bowl with a quiet, hesitant clink.
"Izuku, why are you doing this?" Mom asked quietly, keeping her eyes downwards while she anxiously played with her fingers.
"Self-defense Mom, you know, we talked about this, remember?" Izuku answered weakly, the lie heavy and uncomfortable.
Mom frowned unhappily and looked up at him sternly but the effect is lessened by the obvious worry in her eyes. "I'm not stupid Izuku, the Aikido I understand but this, this is basically street fighting propped up to be a martial art. I just," she sighed and rubbed at her temple. "I'm worried for you. I don't know what you're thinking right now and that scares me. You've been so different since you met that sludge villain and I don't know what to do." Izuku set down his dinner and reached across the table for her hand.
"Mom," Izuku said, feeling her adjust her hand so she was holding his. "You know my dream, the same one I've had my whole life. I've waited and waited for a quirk to come for so long and it's just… not." He looked up and saw tears gathering in her eyes. "But it's not your fault, or mine, probably isn't dad's either. It just is, only now, I've decided that I'm not going to wait for my dream anymore. I'm going to work for it," he said as he gave her hand a tight squeeze.
"Rikimaru-shishou is going to teach me offensive fighting, and I'll learn defense and stamina from the school's Aikido. I'm going to study up and learn the best tools and strategies to counter all kinds of quirks. I'm going to apply to Yuuei in February and I'm going to become the first quirkless hero." This time his mom can't be bothered to hide her tears and Izuku felt himself start to get emotional too.
"Baby," Mom said quietly as she brought his hand up to her face.
"I know it's stupid and crazy and impossible but, Mom, I just can't… turn this part of me off. I need to try Mom, I need to or I'll never be happy," Izuku steeled himself and continued. "A-A long time ago, you told me that you were sorry, when we found out I was quirkless," he said thickly, drudging up those old, painful memories.
"Well right now, I don't need you to say you're sorry again or tell me I can't do this. I'm-I'm tired of being put down before I even get started. I just need someone to believe in me for once, to say 'hey Izuku, you might just be crazy enough to pull this off!'" Losing steam, he lowered his head and muttered quietly to himself. "I just want the chance to prove I'm not completely useless."
"Hey Izuku," Mom blubbered from the other end of the table. He looked up and saw that she's barely keeping it together as she continues to cup his hand to her face. "I believe you just might be crazy enough to pull this off." She closed her eyes and blinked back those heavy tears. "Just not too crazy, you hear me young man? You have to keep your dear old mother's poor heart in mind," he bit his lip and nodded enthusiastically.
"I will I promise, I'll work hard and make you proud, Mom," Izuku said. His mom sighed and gave his hand a quick kiss before letting it go.
"Oh Izuku, I've always been proud of you. Never forget that, no matter what anyone else tells you; I've always known you were going to be something special. Follow your dreams honey, I'll support you wherever you go."
Now that he had a proper teacher, his training drastically increased in intensity and Izuku eagerly met the challenge.
Now it wasn't just his body that needed training but his mind too. There was no way Izuku was going to come close to bridging the physical gap so Izuku had to learn to think his way out of situations. He no longer had the time to chase after hero battles but he still kept up to date via his various news apps. Every hero and villain clashes were meticulously analyzed late at night when he should be sleeping, looking for weakness and how he would have fought had he been there.
Izuku had promised Rikimaru-shishou that he'd work twice as hard and he absolutely did. It seems he spent just as much time dry heaving on the floor of the dojo as he did training. But no matter how sore he felt, no matter how heavy exhaustion made his eyelids, Izuku got up dutifully every morning. It was a demanding, rigorous schedule but little by little, he began to see himself improve.
His runs became longer as he covered distances faster. The moves that once seemed impossible came to him easier until they became instinctual. Rikimaru-shishou beat out his awkwardness, his hesitation and replaced it with strength and diligence. Izuku never won any of their matches, probably never would, but he stopped losing as badly. He trained day and night until he became as skilled with a bō as he was with his fists.
Even the school run Aikido program gave him a standard to build off of, a way to blend the ferocity of Jeet Kune Do with the elegance of a traditional martial art. A welcome side effect of his training was that the bullying dropped down to practically nothing. Kacchan hadn't really bothered him since the sludge incident and, between that and Izuku's now obvious muscle tone, potential bullies steered clear of him.
This progress only spurned him on and made him train himself even harder. Izuku actually burnt himself out by going above what Shishou had laid out for him. His master sure tore into him that day, going on about how overwork would only hurt him in the end. But sitting on the floor of the dojo, his muscles trembling from the simple strain of sitting upright, Izuku thought only think of his goals and he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
Yes, the last 10 months had been brutal but Izuku is pleased by how far he's come in such a short time. But of course, it would all be for nothing if he didn't make it into Yuuei.
Izuku sighs for what must be the hundredth time and rolls over in his bed and tries to force sleep to come. The entrance exam is tomorrow and he needs to be in tip top shape. Well, it's not like he's actually going to doing any fighting or anything but he still needs to be well-rested. Izuku frowns and rolls over again until he's facing a large All Might poster on his wall which really doesn't help his mood right now. Maybe that's part of his insomnia, the frustration that he's not even bothering to apply for Heroics.
Part of him, the part that has been slowly built up over the last 10 months, is screaming that he has earned the right to compete with all the other prospective hero students. But the larger, more practical side counters that they probably wouldn't even let him in the door without a quirk.
So he's aiming for the General Education department, still considered to be one of the finest, most competitive high school programs in Japan. Besides, several pro heroes started in General and were able to transfer over to Heroics. Izuku tells himself he's being cowardly for not going all the way. He also tells himself he's already being optimistic about his chances. In the end, he's left feeling nauseous and a bit sweaty but eventually manages to fall into a fitful sleep.
In his dreams, he dreams of heroes.
While Izuku tries and eventually succeeds in falling asleep, across town in a small, unremarkable apartment, a living legend is pacing in his kitchen. Toshinori, more famously known as All Might, is still in his costume which hangs uncomfortably off his thin and battered frame. He pinches his nose in frustration as he adjusts the phone on his shoulder.
"Please, can't we do this at a more reasonable hour? I need to be at Yuuei for the entrance exams first thing in the morning and I'm not exactly as young as I used to be." Toshinori yawns as he catches a glimpse at the time and wonders if it'd just be easier to stay up and then head to the school.
"First of all, I knew you were awake because I saw on the news that you stopped a bus collision not more than 30 minutes ago, good work on that by the way," Nighteye says drolly. "And second, you won't talk to me any time during the day so I figured I'd try the middle of the night," the man continues, sounding stressed and exhausted.
Toshinori rubs at his face with bony fingers. He'd be more concerned for his former sidekick's wellbeing if the man was wasn't such a pain in his- "All Might please, just look at the file I sent you. This young man is perfect, you couldn't ask for a better successor to take your place as the Symbol of Peace."
Toshinori snorts dismissively as he avoids getting tangled in the phone cord. He really wishes Nighteye had called his cell phone. But, again, he probably wouldn't have picked up once he saw who popped up on the caller ID. "You make it sound like a job interview," he spits out feeling bitter and fragile and everything All Might is not. But it's late and he's not All Might right now. "This isn't-" Toshinori snaps before stopping and taking a calming breath "this isn't something I can decide from a file, Nighteye. This is, personal, and important, probably the most important thing I will ever do."
"I know, which is why I'm trying to help you. You're sick, All Might, you need to start training a successor now or you-you might not be able to." Toshinori finds himself morbidly amused that his former sidekick seems more choked up about his predicted death than he himself was. "I've had him at my agency since the last Sports Festival and he's everything you could possibly want, he's just like you." Toshinori rolls his eyes, like me or like All Might, he wants to say but of course he doesn't. As much resentment and frustration has been built up in his chest, he can't take that out on Nighteye who's a friend, who's a fan.
"Just look at the file, if you look at it and you still don't like him then I promise I'll let it go. But I will keep searching, the perfect successor isn't just going to drop into your lap." Toshinori is tense and unhappy as he stands in his kitchen, hunched over an old corded phone, feeling more tired than he has any right to be. "If you're interested, I can let you meet him. See the boy up close, as a person and not just a job applicant. You can decide for yourself if he's worthy or not." Toshinori doesn't answer, instead he trails back over to where the phone is hooked up to the wall before he trips over the cord and breaks his hip or something. "All Might?"
"Fine, fine," Toshinori sighs. "If it will get you off my back, I'll look at your file and we'll see if I'm up for meeting him. I just-" I just don't like how impersonal this feels. My Master picked me up and trained me from nothing and now I get to analyze and judge a kid based on statistics and calculations. "I just guess I'm nervous is all, tired too. You do realize midnight passed quite some time ago."
"Of course, I'll let you get your rest; I know how much you need it," Nighteye replies gently, relief evident in his tone. "Let me know what you think of the boy, alright? I have a few other candidates in mind but I really believe this is the one."
"Yeah, okay. You try and sleep sometime today too, I'll talk to you later." Toshinori says, hanging up the phone before the other man can nag any more. Honestly, who needs a spouse when he has Nighteye? He sets the phone back in its cradle; a loud click in the silence of the apartment.
Rubbing at his eyes again, Toshinori trudges over to his bedroom, holding his costume to avoid tripping. He passes by his desk and his eyes fall on the manila folder lying innocently off to the side, buried under a few meaningless papers. Before he can second guess himself, he grabs it and gives the file a droll look. Togata Mirio huh? Well, Nighteye is right, time is running out and he needs to choose someone eventually. Toshinori enters his bedroom with the folder tucked haphazardly under his arm.
XxX
Izuku wakes up in a panic the next morning, shaking and sweating and certain that he's missed the Yuuei entrance exam. It's only after he's climbed out of bed and was hurriedly trying to put on pants that he looks outside and realizes it's still dark out. A glance at his phone tells him that his alarm isn't set to go off for another hour. Despite being exhausted, Izuku knows he's too anxious to fall back asleep so he decides he might as well go through his normal exercises.
As always, his feet pounding on the pavement and the pleasant burn in his muscles as he works through his stances helps him find his equilibrium. By the time he's showered, eaten breakfast and ready to go, Izuku is twice as tired but miraculously his anxiety has died down to a dull buzz. His mom runs her hand through his hair as he prepares to leave.
"I'll be thinking about you Izuku, be safe and don't let anyone get you down."
"It's just a written exam for the General Education kids, Mom," Izuku answers with a smile even though a part of him wants to scream.
"There's no one path in life, Izuku. I know you're upset but I think this is the right decision for right now; you'll get there, honey. Don't think of this as a roadblock but as the first step in your journey." His mom says gently and Izuku smiles for real this time before beginning his trip to Yuuei.
By the time he reaches the school, his nervousness was back with a vengeance, threatening to make him spew right on the steps of one of the greatest schools in Japan. Instead, Izuku puts one foot in front of the other and forces himself to keep walking. He's so busy trying to keep himself from being sick that he almost misses the entrance to the Heroics exam. It almost would have been better if he hadn't.
Izuku watches the crowd of students who were heading into the hero entrance with nervous but proud expressions on their faces. His fists clenched, all of them had probably been told that their quirks would get them into Yuuei. They'd probably never had the same feeling of desperate, futile wanting that Izuku lived with everyday. For a second, Izuku entertains the thought that he might hate them for their confidence and quirks before he shakes himself out of that negative thinking.
That wasn't the attitude for a future hero, or at least, for a kid about to sit for one of the hardest tests he'd ever take.
With one last longing look at the hero entrance, Izuku turns and starts to head towards his actual exam location when he spots him. Kacchan is making his way through the crowd looking focused and surprisingly calm. His old friend may have backed off on the bullying since the sludge incident but that didn't mean he would be happy to see Izuku here. Using the stealth skills he'd cultivated over the last year, Izuku was able to ensure Kaachan never saw him. A sigh of relief and a glance at his watch tells him that he really needs to head out. He turns and runs smack into someone.
"Oh!" The girl says, starting to teeter backwards but Izuku reaches out and steadies her before she falls.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" Izuku blushes, about to stammer about a few more apologies when his feet leave the ground. He yelps as he starts to float upwards. The girl he'd almost knocked over grabs ahold of his arm before he can go any higher.
"Sorry about that! You startled me and I just activated my quirk without thinking," the girl says, looking a bit flustered herself. She lowers Izuku back to the ground and brings her hands together where gravity reasserts its hold on him.
"It's fine," the brown haired girl says cheerily. She's got rosy red cheeks and a warm smile that gives Izuku vertigo. "Thanks for not letting me fall, that seems like a bad omen for me to fall on my face right before the exam. You have good reflexes, I'm sure you'll pass for sure."
Her open expression was so bright and clear it short circuited his brain a little bit. A girl was talking to him! And there wasn't a trace of mockery in her voice! "Ugh, I'm so nervous I bet you are too," she says with a friendly expression. All he could do was look at her with a gaping mouth. "Well, good luck, maybe I'll see you later!" She waves as she runs off towards the hero entrance.
The realization that she probably figured he also was taking the Heroics exam startles him out of his hazy thoughts. It reminds Izuku that he really, really needs to get to his own exam before he did something stupid like actually attempt to take the Heroics exam without a quirk.
Izuku jogs towards the General Education entrance which was on the other end of the large campus. Along the way, he finds himself thinking about the brown haired girl. She was kind and had a pretty amazing quirk, he finds himself hoping she makes it. Maybe if luck was in his favor for once, he'd get to fight alongside her one day.
He slows down as he arrives at the exam entrance. Well, no matter what the future held, this was his starting line.
The test ends up being incredibly difficult and he's reminded that while he views Gen Ed as something of a stepping stone, that this still a highly sought after program for students of all backgrounds. Izuku leaves the testing facility feeling shaky and unsure if he even had what it took to get through this smaller obstacle.
While Izuku waits for the results, he can almost pretend everything is normal. He'd put all his hopes and dreams into Yuuei. In the agonizing days waiting for the results, he wonders what he'd even do if he didn't get in. Izuku exists in a perpetual state of numbness and anxiety until he comes home from training one day to find a sealed envelope waiting for him on the counter. He opens it with shaking fingers and finds information on what he'll need for the spring term.
He was in; Izuku was going to attend Yuuei's General Education department. Despite the fact that this was good news, he can't help but feel disappointed. He could have been opening a letter to from the hero course; this could have been his hero academia. Instead he shakes his head and scrubs roughly at his eyes.
He'll never know if he chose right or wrong but either way, the decision was made and he had to live with it. So shoving all those negative emotions deep down, he puts on his brightest smile for his mother who was anxiously pacing behind him. He holds up the acceptance letter and her delighted shriek almost makes him forgot that he still has a long way to go before he reaches his ultimate goal. But he'll never stop working for it.