Chapter 65: The Great Dilemma
"Again."
Izuku backflips over a jet of compressed air, twisting around a ball of steel. His feet hit the ceiling and he pushes downwards. He catches another projectile, letting its momentum cause his trajectory to veer slightly to the right. He spins, landing on one hand and using the other to throw the projectile back where it came from. Blackwhip pulls him backwards, avoiding a burst of bullets. A million variables run through his mind at once, some cool and calm, others white-hot and volatile. He sorts through them, keeping the most dangerous at the front of his mind while keeping the rest on the back burner.
His pulse quickens, and he catches a whisper of something from his right. Eyes blinded, Izuku ducks and dives to the ground. Whatever was launched at him hits the ground and rolls. Izuku dodges a few more attacks and kicks off towards the corner, feeling the danger rise with each passing second. He fends off more and more attacks, brushing wind aside with his own and catching physical items with Blackwhip. Each time he does, the pressure from the thing soars, swelling until the room grows. Until it explodes.
Izuku flares his Quirk, letting Blackwhip cocoon him in a thick layer of protection. Fire and shrapnel hit with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs, even at forty percent with his armor. Izuku lets himself drop to the floor, ready for a follow-up. Cannons roar around him, their ammo a mix of solid balls and grapeshot. He tanks the smaller balls, batting the big ones aside so he doesn't lose his ribs.
By now, he's getting pretty annoyed with all the curveballs. There are flamethrowers, air cannons, real cannons, spears, caltrops, and net guns. It feels like he's in the middle of a warzone, one he can't see because of the blindfold. He's thankful for his hearing, though. It helps a little, sometimes picking up on things he's forgotten about in the tangled mess of Danger Sense. But it also hinders him, like when a literal flash-bang grenade is launched at his face at a hundred miles an hour, giving him a split second to pick between deflecting it or running. He picks something in between, knocking it aside with his heel before bursting away. But he's a hair too slow. The flash permeates through his blindfold, making black spots dance across his eyes. The bang is deafening, and his ears ring. But he keeps moving, jumping over a wave of fire and tucking into a ball. He spins, controlling his descent and making his trajectory hard to predict with Float.
He outpaces the attacks, letting gravity take him down as he lets the power fade, but he keeps everything coiled like a spring, ready to snap in any direction. The opportunity comes right as he hits the ground, Danger Sense flaring the hardest it has all day. Izuku pops up and takes a solid stance, hands out in front of him with his feet rooted. Something massive charges him, but Izuku meets it in the middle. He pushes with his shoulder, driving forward with his legs as his arms fend off more and more attacks.
Something wraps around his leg, but it snaps from the sheer amount of energy he's producing. The floor beneath him feels warm from the friction of the object scraping as he pushes. Blackwhip flails about, under his control for the sake of the exercise. Izuku is caught managing the strands, Danger Sense, and pushing the object back. It's hard, but he grits his teeth and keeps moving. He knows the room is large, even if he only got a brief look at it before entering. He's only so far from the opposite side. He'll keep pushing until he hits a wall and then—
"Stop."
Izuku crashes through the object he was pushing, tumbling head over heels a few times. He pulls off his blindfold, gagging a little when he feels that it's soaked with sweat. He throws it aside, but it sticks to the inside of… he's in a solid metal object. There's literally a hole shaped like his body, and the opening would fit him like a glove. It's a little funny—like those old cartoons with the coyote ramming into a cliff face—but he has to get out when the metal glows a faint red and he's still recovering from an intense training session.
With a grunt, he pushes the sides of the metal with his hands and feet. It bends, but only at a full-powered forty-five percent. He starts to crawl out feet first, ignoring the way his clothes smolder and how his skin steams. He hops out of the hole and looks around. The room looks like the aftermath of a very mean-spirited prank war. Oil, water, hunks of scrap, and things he can't even recognize steam on the ground, and instruments of torture jut from the walls. Izuku sniffs and shrugs off his jacket. He's much too hot to just stand there, and while activating One for All would negate the danger, it would only prolong the warmth. Maybe he'll take a walk outside later, without a coat or scarf.
"The Support students are going to be giddy." One of the walls slides open and Aizawa walks out. He casually kicks at a metal spear and studies the massive block of metal Izuku was struggling against.
"Did… were those all prototypes?"
"More or less," Aizawa admits. "We told them what you were capable of and told them whoever got you to yield automatically gets top marks for the next two semesters."
Izuku looks at a patch of caltrops, which are barbed and pointed at just the right angle so that the only way to avoid being impaled by them is to land directly on top of them. "That's a little extreme."
Aizawa shrugs. "You won, sort of. Next time, we'll probably have to implement a power cap. You're outgrowing what we can reasonably produce here."
"That's what Endeavor says, too." Izuku looks back at the smoldering block of metal. "I… I'm almost untouchable in terms of brute strength now, aren't I?"
"Yes."
"But there's so much more room for me to grow. How… how am I going to train when I can't attack without destroying everything I touch?"
"We'll figure something out." Aizawa turns and starts to walk towards the gap in the wall. He waves for Izuku to follow. "In the meantime, you're doing the right things. Focusing on precision and managing your power is key. Working with people who also have strong Quirks with high potential for collateral damage will allow you to learn from people who've been in the same position as you, even if they're not as strong. Keep going. It'll work out eventually."
"I'd rather figure everything out now, before it gets hectic," Izuku says, turning around a corner and following Aizawa towards a different training room. "I mean, I—well, the day's getting closer."
"We still have time. You should be thinking about it, but don't let it cloud your focus on your current training. It's just as important. Anyways," Aizawa says, opening a door and walking in, "someone's been bugging me about you, and I finally caved."
"Who—"
"Hey there, kiddo!" Present Mic waves a hand in the air, smiling brightly with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He's in his hero uniform, but it's more casual than usual. He's missing the heavy-duty speaker around his neck, and his jacket is different. He still feels cheerful and confident, even though he's clearly tired. Mic's obviously bearing the weight of Kurogiri's true nature, even if he doesn't have a clue about All for One and One for All.
"Hello, sir!" Izuku greets, stopping short of the man. Behind him, Aizawa rifles through his pockets and pulls out a pair of earmuffs. "Why are you here?"
"Didn't tell him, huh?" Mic asks Aizawa, who shrugs.
"You're here, you're the expert. Go."
Mic rolls his eyes. "Typical. Anyways, your Quirk enhances the body, right?"
"Yeah."
"Internally and externally?"
"I'd be dead if it didn't."
"Glossing over that," Mic says, a flash of worry in his eyes, "you're missing out on a really cool aspect of your power! Doesn't it enhance the efficiency of your organs?"
"Kinda?" Izuku chews his lip, trying to think of a way to describe it. "It... I'm like a machine. Or maybe a computer. My Quirk changes the building material, say, from aluminum to steel. It's stronger and more durable—faster too. But I'm not changing the complicated bits at all. I'm still operating on the same hardware. I get a little bit better reflexes, but that's it. I… I can't think faster, my heart doesn't pump more blood, and my eyes aren't able to see further away."
"Enhanced durability and strength, huh?" Mic taps his throat with two fingers. "Ever try screaming with it?"
"I… don't think that would work? It's the same principle as my eyes and brain."
"Ah, but you use muscles to speak, and you make sound by pushing air through your vocal cords. With your extra-durable innards and stronger muscles, you'd be able to get a lot more sound out."
Izuku thinks for a moment. "Alright. How…"
"Activate your Quirk," Mic coaches, "and focus on the muscles you use to breathe." One for All sparks to life, and Izuku takes a few deep, even breaths. "Good. Now, make sure you keep the power low. We don't want you to blow out your vocal cords."
"O—"
"Don't talk just yet! I need to give you a few more instructions first." Mic rests a hand on his stomach. "Breathe downward, if that makes sense. Picture yourself filling up your gut with air. You should look kinda fat when you do this."
Izuku relaxes and inhales for a few seconds. His abdomen expands, stretching like a rubber band as it pulls taut.
"Good. Hold for a second. You gotta get used to feeling full, y'know? Anyways, one, two, three, let it go!" Izuku relaxes, pushing the air out without trying to speak. He feels a little light-headed, and he blinks rapidly to try and regain his balance. "Weird, huh? You've been breathing all your life but not like this."
"Yeah," Izuku agrees, "I knew singers and stuff had to have good breath support, but—wait, are you going to have me sing?"
"Well, yeah," Mic says, smiling. "Do you ever talk so much that your throat hurts the next day?"
"Yeah."
"That's because you use your vocal cords to talk and stuff. Singing does too, but there's ways around it." Mic pats the part of his stomach directly below his sternum. "You can use your diaphragm to push the air out. I'm not an expert by any means, but if you do that, it takes the strain off your vocal cords. I think. I just know it works."
"So…"
"Sing, kiddo. No reason to be shy!"
"I'm not so sure… I mean, how would this help me?"
"Communication, distracting enemies, an extra attack in your arsenal…"
"Yeah, but—"
"Aizawa's wearing earmuffs."
"Okay, fine."
It takes twenty minutes to even figure out how to enhance his voice. Izuku's just not used to using One for All to strengthen the muscles he uses to breathe, and because they're oftentimes working subconsciously, there's another level of difficulty. It's like he's trying to practice dialing on an old-fashioned phone. He has contacts in his current one, and dialing manually takes way more time. He supposes that if the analogy is to hold up, then dialing manually would result in a better connection. Because using One for All to make his voice louder works. Really well.
It leaves his vocal cords sore and his lungs wheezing with every breath like he just ran twenty miles, but he can sing loud enough to give Present Mic a brief bout of tinnitus. But he can only sing for so long. He's not actually amplifying sound. Well, he is, but not like Mic does. Mic's vocal cords are literally a few hundred times more powerful than the average human, and his entire aural system is practically designed for making loud noises. Izuku, though, is basically pushing air out faster. It makes louder noise, yes, but there's only so much air he can hold, and the faster he pushes it, the faster it runs out. But even a short burst can do damage.
"Yeesh, I might have to steal Aizawa's earmuffs," Mic says, moving his hands from his ears to pat Izuku on the back. In front of them, a pane of safety glass lays shattered on the floor. Izuku rubs his throat, not used to working that part of his body. "Warm tea and honey, kiddo," Mic suggests, "it'll help. Also, don't whisper. That puts more strain on you, just like yelling. Talk normally."
"O—" Izuku coughs, wincing as the back of his mouth throbs. "Okay."
"We'll take it easy," Mic assures. "No reason to blow your pipes out. Better to take baby steps than crack your head open on the bottom rung of a ladder."
"Yeah," Izuku agrees. "This'll be useful. I can't imagine the impact clear communication could have. I mean, to be heard across a city with no technology is..."
"I definitely get ya. It's basically what I do when on rescue assignments. And, uh, as cruel as it sounds, blowing people's ears out is a good way of apprehending them." Mic gestures to the glass. "Sound isn't just… sound. It's vibrations, wiggly air. Or water. Or a solid. It travels through pretty much everything, even if it's just a little. My point is that it has weight, in a way. You stand next to an explosion and you'll go deaf just as you'll be blown away. So even if they're immune to your voice, they probably aren't immune to the shockwaves you stir up."
"I'm like an air cannon, then," Izuku muses out loud. "It's almost like one of my Air Forces."
"The attacks will be, if you get good enough at it," Mic agrees, "but the voice projection won't be. You'll be more like a massive speaker. Shaking the earth and blasting good music."
"Anything I sing won't be good music," Izuku chuckles, "but thank you."
"Thank him," Mic says, jerking his head to where Aizawa lays, fast asleep. "He arranged this. I didn't even consider how your Quirk would work with your voice."
"I will later," Izuku promises.
"Good. Now get out of here! You've got friends to spend time with!"
And by friends, Mic must mean an agency full of pro heroes eager to fight him. Because that's what Izuku goes to. Granted, he does stop by and check on his friends while they eat, but he barely stays long enough to give Nejire a kiss before he has to grab his costume and hop on a train. He signs a few autographs because he forgot a mask, and ends up in Tokyo at about two o'clock. Like all of the other days he went in, Izuku heads right for the basement and gets a training room. He changes into his costume and gets to work.
Izuku finishes his warmups in three hours. They're not as tiring today, in spite of the fact that he already went for some heavy training. Maybe it's because he worked on more complex moves instead of the basic stuff. He always feels better about working closer to his upper limit than holding back. He used to consider it a waste to not work on the big stuff, but now it's sort of like lifting heavy—hard and fun, but only truly fulfilling after a long bout of working on the easier stuff.
Izuku heads back up to the main lobby, stopping by a locker room to store his clothes before ending up at the front desk. He fully expects to meet a few sidekicks to spar with, like usual. Endeavor really only checks up on him at the end of his time at the agency. But today, the man himself stands in the middle of the lobby, radiating heat.
"Let's go."
"On patrol?"
"Yes. Don't make me regret this."
Izuku expects to be treated like he was at all the other agencies he was working for before: a shadow, closely monitored and treated like a student. But Endeavor walks out the front doors, blasts off into the air, and doesn't even wait for Izuku to follow.
"You have an earpiece, correct?" the man asks when Izuku catches up to him easily.
"Yes, sir!"
"Good. Stay within two kilometers of me. I'll be working with the grid system in the HN from northeast to southwest. Your job is to catch as many as me in the allotted time. If either of us need backup, we provide assistance immediately."
"You're going to let me work alone?"
Endeavor glares at him as they fly. "You're not a child, and I will not treat you as such. You're worthy of being a pro already, and tethering you to me would only slow both of us down. Now move!"
It's five in the evening. It's not quite rush hour, but it's getting there. Izuku loops around block after block, keeping high so he can see the flashes of Endeavor's fire. Two kilometers sounds like a lot, but with a city as big as Tokyo and a top speed like Izuku's, it really isn't. But it doesn't matter, because crime is everywhere. Izuku stops two robberies and responds to a police unit requesting backup before the hour is up. He gets a few weird looks for being so young, but the results speak for themselves—and the fact that a kid was wearing a t-shirt with his face on it.
Nothing big happens until around half past seven. Leading up to then, it's all pretty crime and basic villainy. But once Endeavor crosses over to one of the poorer areas, Izuku feels a tug in his gut. Danger Sense doesn't often act up on its own—the only time Izuku can think of is when it first manifested—but when it does, it's always something big.
Izuku climbs higher and higher, raising a finger towards the side of his face, ready to hit the button on his earpiece. He catches a flash of light from below, and his hair stands on end. He barrel rolls, catching whatever was thrown with Blackwhip. It's an arrow. A metal arrow with a heart for a point. Izuku carefully continues to fly, circling around the area the arrow came from. Another flash of light catches his eye, and he catches a second arrow with two fingers. Now with a target, Izuku dives, landing on top of a rundown apartment building.
"What the hell?"
Izuku holds out the arrows to a tall, skinny male of about eighteen. He fixes his expression into something stern, and his hands itch with the temptation to use Blackwhip. "You dropped these."
The boy stares, his pink hair flowing in the cool wind. He doesn't look villainous at first glance, but that hardly means anything. Izuku's just not sure if he can bring him in without a more solid reason. And he could be innocent of any malintent, somehow.
"I-I thought you were a bird!" he says, dropping his bow—which matches his arrows with pink hearts—raising his hands in surrender. "I just—I wanted some target practice."
"Target practice," Izuku says, looking up at the sky where he was just flying. Danger Sense covers him, and he stays on edge. "You were shooting at a living target five kilometers up in the air?"
"Yes?"
Izuku snatches the bow up with Blackwhip and scans the area around the rooftop. He feels a danger to him, but not from the boy. Though strangely, he doesn't feel safe, either. "You're lying to me, aren't you?"
The boy (man? He's close enough to being an adult, but it feels weird calling someone so close to his age a man) winces and looks down. "Yep."
"I have to bring you in for illegal support item use, and the assault of a hero."
"Please!" The boy takes a big step forward, but Izuku shuffles back, flaring green in warning. "I… ugh. There's no excuse. I just—wanted to meet you. And, uh, test out my invention a little."
Izuku sighs, wondering if any other hero gets cases like this. Knowing his luck, probably not. "It's still illegal. And… look, I get that meeting someone you like sounds great, but this?" Izuku holds up the bow and arrows. "It's too far."
"I can't go to jail."
Izuku feels a pang of sympathy. "Then you shouldn't have done that. Really," he says, watching the boy start to tear up. "It's not that hard. I'm not worth going to prison for. Now please, come quietly."
"I k-know I shouldn't have," the boy says, hunching down, "but—you… I… I thought you'd like my invention, that's all."
Izuku hefts the bow. It's solid and heavy. Considering it shot a few kilometers accurately, then it has to have more than a few cool tricks. Or the boy used his Quirk. "It's pretty good," Izuku says, trying to make everything easier, but the way the boy cries tugs at his heart. How long ago did he long for the approval of his hero? "I still have to bring you in. I… I could get in big trouble if I don't. And if that happens, then I won't be able to keep working."
"Please," the boy sniffs, "making things is my whole life! I can't go! Not when you're right here to help me!"
"Help… you?" Izuku's grip on the bow slacks, but he quickly grips it tightly again. Something feels off. Fake. Foreign. Danger Sense is sure the boy doesn't want to attack him, but Izuku's gut doesn't feel right. He takes another step back. He licks his lips, already regretting what he's about to say. "You need help?"
The boy nods, looking down at his shoes. "I… I'm kinda on my own now. Since, well, I'm of age, technically."
"Technically," Izuku says, unsure if he should be sad that someone got screwed over so early in their adult life or on guard because he can't think of a single rational adult who'd shoot arrows at a hero as a cry for help.
"I'm still in school, just… I'm eighteen and my folks kicked me out." The boy looks up, staring at the bow before looking into Izuku's eyes. "That's probably my ticket to a good life. If... if I can get it to a proper company, they'll want to make it and I'll have enough money to get started."
"You make support items."
"Yeah."
"How would I even help with that?" Izuku asks. "I dabble in support items too, but I don't have any connections."
"You're Deku," the boy says like it explains everything. "You go to UA. Surely you'd be able to get it on the desk of someone important."
Izuku bites his lip and looks away. He counts to ten, and then twenty because his mind and heart are in a battle of will. "… I'm not going to arrest you," he says, trying to sound tough and begrudging even though he's a mushy pile of pity and sympathy.
"Really?"
"Ye—" The boy lunges, and Izuku barely keeps himself from instinctively throwing him away. He latches around his neck, pressing his body against Izuku's. It's not uncomfortable, but Izuku doesn't feel safe. Not with how the back of his mind warns of something predatory.
"Thank you so much!" he cries into Izuku's shoulder.
"Yeah," Izuku says, awkwardly holding his arms up. "Look, I… I have to take the bow, at least. It's gonna be obvious that I responded to a disturbance, and if I come back empty-handed…"
"You'll be punished," the boy says, pulling away. He keeps hold of Izuku's shoulders, but not a firm one. He looks down, clearly understanding. "That's fine. I have the plans for it. But money for parts…"
Izuku shrugs off the boy's hands and reaches for his wallet. He pulls out a fistful of bills. "Here," he says, handing them over. "I have more than enough. It probably won't pay for this"—he holds up the bow—"but it's better than nothing."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" the boy says, taking a step forward before backing off nervously. "Sorry, I just…"
"A hug's fine. Just make it qu—"
Izuku's ribs are promptly crushed. The boy's strong despite his slim build. Probably from working in a shop all day. He reeks of motor oil and smoke. "Thanks aga—"
An explosion goes off ten blocks away, the shockwave enough to shatter the glass of the building below them. Izuku hears his earpiece go off. "I gotta go." He looks down at the bow and arrows and then at the boy. "Stay right here unless you're about to die. What's your name, so I can find you after if I need to?"
The boy smiles, but it doesn't match his face. It's too wide, and his canines are like fangs, clashing with his, well, average-looking features. "Hatsume Harley."
Izuku makes it to the scene of the explosion in a flash. An entire city block burns, but a fire brigade is already working on it. Izuku perches on top of a water tower, making sure there aren't any buildings in danger of collapse. The sound of jets of fire and something big plowing through a city street fills his ears. He hits his earpiece. "Deku here."
"Back me up. Now! Do not try to go on cleanup duty!"
Izuku doesn't respond. He kicks off the second the line goes dead, spinning through the supports of another water tower and pulling himself towards Endeavor's position with Blackwhip. He catches up in a matter of seconds, and despite Endeavor's orders, he puts out a fire before it can burn down a store. But that's only because he's not sure where to join in.
Endeavor clashes with a monster right out of a children's novel. It's massive, hairy, and has claws sharp enough to shave with. And each time Endeavor burns it, the thing knits itself back together in a display of pink muscle fibers. Familiar pink muscle fibers.
"I'm here!" Deku calls, soaring overhead to make himself known. Endeavor ducks under a swipe of claws and shoots a white-hot jet of flame in the thing's bear-like face.
"Grab it!"
Izuku acts without hesitation, slamming his feet into the beast's back. It stumbles, and Izuku wraps it from head to toe, pinning it to the ground. It struggles, and it's strong enough to make holding on somewhat difficult. Izuku can keep it down, but not indefinitely.
Endeavor steps forward, kneeling in front of its covered head. "Let it speak."
Izuku carefully unravels the whips around the head, reinforcing the bindings on its legs with the extra energy he gains. The beast roars, shaking the earth and blowing back Endeavor's hair.
"Are you human?" the hero asks, unfazed. He only gets another roar in response. He looks up at Izuku. "There's nothing here, bar you, that can hold this thing."
"Are you sure?" Izuku asks. "We're in Tokyo. The police station might—"
"What percent are you at?"
"Fifty," Izuku says. "Three-quarters effort."
Endeavor nods. "That's nearing All Might's strength. The only place that can hold something that powerful is Tartarus, and the transport to that place left yesterday. It won't be back until tonight."
"I can't keep it until then. Maybe an hour, tops, but until nightfall?"
Endeavor stands, mind made up. "Wrap the head again." Izuku does. "We're going to kill it."
"Sir?"
"You heard me."
"I…" Izuku swallows. "It could be human," he tries, but deep down, he has his doubts. If it's a project of All for One's, then it's long since lost its humanity. "Maybe we could fly it to the prison ourselves?"
"We'd be shot down, no questions asked." Endeavor reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He types something into it. The device buzzes and he puts it back in his pocket. "All Might would be the only one who could deal with this in a clean way. He's out of action right now, leaving me as the top hero and you as one of the strongest people in the country. Neither of us can do what he can. So we're going to kill it."
"Could we knock it out?"
"We can try, but I doubt that it will work. You saw its reconstructive capabilities. I fried its bones away before you showed up. Its arms are nothing but muscle tissue. What's to say it won't construct something around its head to keep it from absorbing the full impact?"
The monster bucks as though to prove Endeavor's point. Izuku forces it back down, feeling something budge against Blackwhip. Probably muscle fibers, just like the villain on the highway. "There has to be a place with something to contain this."
"That equipment is kept locked up tighter than UA," Endeavor says. "The only way to get it is through the Hero Commission, who are known for taking eons to approve paperwork."
Izuku looks down at the villain. His hands shake. "Okay. Where?"
"In the sky, where there are no people or buildings."
Izuku climbs, keeping even with Endeavor. His stomach shoots in the opposite direction as he does, and the weight of the villain sways under him. He doesn't want to kill. Even if it's a villain or completely animalistic, it's alive. Surely it deserves to live a little. Cutting it short would be awful and wrong. But the damage the thing caused can be seen from the air, and it's not pretty. He's seen worse. He's caused worse at U.A. But it's different. People were hurt—maybe killed, too—and the monster did it mindlessly, without remorse or regret, because it's probably impossible for it to feel anything. That's worse, in Izuku's mind.
He starts to think as Endeavor orders him to open a section of the whips. If… if he's okay with helping with the death of a mindless monster sent by All for One, then… should he be okay with killing All for One? It's only right. He thinks back to a few movies he saw as a kid where the good guy spends hours beating up on goons and minions mindlessly, only to spare the main villain, who's done much worse than any grunt could. It doesn't make sense, and neither do his opinions on taking life. Where does he draw the line?
The monster takes five full-powered fifty percent smashes and a Jet Burn to the face. It stays awake, angry and violent. Izuku feels himself start to go numb.
"If we can't even damage it like this, how…"
"Drowning."
Izuku flinches. That would be an awful way to go. "Isn't there—"
"How are you holding up?" Izuku stares, unsure if that was actual care in Endeavor's words. "Report on how fatigued you are." Ah.
"Very," Izuku admits. "I trained hard today, and it's still fighting back. I can't hold for longer than an hour."
"That's not enough time to wait for a hero with a better Quirk," Endeavor says gruffly. "You'll either have to knock it out with a full-force hit, something you can't do sustainably until we get transport, or drown it in the sea."
"We could get Recovery—"
"You don't have enough energy."
Izuku looks out at the Pacific Ocean to the south. Even if a hundred percent could knock the monster out, it would wake up eventually and he'd have to fight it again. He'd be worn down before the materials needed to bind it got to them. And there definitely aren't enough tranquilizers or Quirk suppressants nearby to knock it out that way either. Not for long, anyway. He'll have to kill it.
"I'd like to try knocking it out again."
"It won't work out how you want it to."
"It won't die in pain."
Endeavor says nothing. He only stares, eyes cold and full of apathy. Izuku takes a deep breath and throws the monster up in the air. Its roar pierces the sky like a swan song. Izuku brings his leg back and kicks. There's a crunch, a crack of artificial lightning, and the boom of thunder. Clouds swirl, and it starts to rain. The beast hangs limp, but there's still a pulse.
They don't drown it. It can't fight back, so there's no point. Endeavor has Izuku take it to a shipyard, where he burns it to a crisp. It doesn't regenerate or rebuild what the fire eats. It can't. It only lies there, turning to ash. Izuku won't ever forget the way Endeavor looks as he kills the thing. Like one would shovel filth or how a meat packer guts a cow: methodic, unfeeling. Like a machine. The smell of burning flesh refuses to wash out of Izuku's costume.
[x]
"Boop."
A finger pokes Izuku's nose, small but calloused and strong. He wants to smile, but a cloud hangs over his mind, oppressive and dark, like smoke.
"I love you."
"Love you, too."
He can feel Nejire pout from his spot on the ground. They're having a picnic, a sweet and romantic outing ruined by the fact that Izuku can't feel joy. "You said it wrong."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay." Nejire takes his hands, leaning over him. His eyes are in line with her lips, which twist into a soft smile. Her hair hangs down and tickles his neck, warm in the cool September air. "It was a bad idea to do this today. What idiot has a picnic in the middle of fall?"
"It's not your fault."
"It's not yours either."
Izuku closes his eyes. "It kinda is."
"Nope." Nejire leans in and kisses his forehead. She pulls away, and the cold air makes it sting against his skin. He feels her lay down next to him, wrapping around his arm like a monkey does to a tree. "You did nothing wrong."
"I did."
"No, you didn't."
"You don't even know the full story. No one does."
"Yeah, but I know you. I know that you would never act in a way that you'd regret later."
"I'm regretting it right now."
"Are you?" Nejire asks, placing a hand over his heart. "Is it regret? Or is it grief for what had to happen?"
Izuku sighs. "I regret that the situation played out that way. But…" He cringes. "I think that if I had to do it over, I'd do the same thing. There… it was the best option."
"Yeah."
"I still don't feel like a good person."
"Do… do you want to talk about it?"
"I guess."
"Okay. Do you want me to listen or help?"
"Listen."
"Alright. Go ahead."
Izuku opens his eyes and looks at the sky. Treetops ring his vision. "I eat meat. I swat flies. I'm responsible for death already, just like everyone else. But I feel dirty. Dirty for helping to kill that thing, even if it had to die. I just… I feel lost. Why am I okay with one thing but not the other? I know that if I really was an advocate of preserving all life, then I'd go vegan or something. I'd also start campaigning against the death penalty. But I don't want to do those things. I… As cruel as it seems, the people on death row deserve it. It only gets used for cases with indisputable evidence."
"Particularly heinous crimes caught on camera, I know," Nejire coaches, stroking his hair.
"Yeah. But that thing felt different from a convicted serial killer or even a cow or a pig or a chicken. I just don't know why. Maybe because I saw it? Maybe because it was me actually there, helping, instead of being far away. I just don't know. But now…" Izuku squeezes his fist, silently cursing All for One. "I made the right choice. I know that. I feel guilt, but not regret. And I… Well, I already said I'd do it again. I saved lives by killing the thing. And I didn't lose sleep after."
"What's it like?"
"What?"
"Killing. It's okay if you can't tell. I just… my Quirk's really powerful. Ryukyu thinks I could be as strong as Endeavor. And one day I might…"
"I didn't actually kill it. But I helped. I knocked it out and made sure it didn't go anywhere while it was burned in its sleep. But it felt cold. Really, really cold. I wanted to shiver, despite the flames. I also felt kind of out of it, if that makes sense. Like I was watching a movie of it happening, except I could feel and hear and smell and taste…"
"You can stop."
"Thanks."
Nejire squeezes his hand, pulling herself closer. "Thank you. For trusting me."
Izuku half smirks. "Thanks for letting me unload."
"I love you. Of course I'd be willing to listen."
"Still, I… love you."
"That's better."
Izuku looks at her, taking in the way her hair scatters in the wind. "This was a pretty bad way to spend the weekend before your birthday."
"And the Cultural Festival," Nejire says, smiling thinly. "But you have a lot on your plate, so…"
"That's an understatement," Izuku chuckles humorlessly. "New agency, a project for the Festival, training, the fact that my father is dead and was a villain, Endeavor…"
"Wh… what was that last one?"
"Endeavor?"
"The one before it."
"My dad…" Izuku trails off, looking away.
"I'm not mad or scared. Just curious."
Izuku nods. "Yeah, uh… I think he was involved with the Yakuza. Actually, I have proof that he was. And I've seen his grave. So, uh, you're dating the son of some slimy organized crime boss?"
Nejire giggles. "Good to know."
"Yeah. Actually, the boss is pushing it. I'm pretty sure he was like a diplomat or something. Maybe a hitman, which is… heavy."
"You're not your father."
"I know."
"Good. It took me forever to figure that out myself."
"Yeah, your dad is…"
"He is, but I'm talking about my mom."
"I'm guessing she wasn't the best?"
"No, she was." Nejire chews her lip.
"I can listen."
"Dork," Nejire says, softly kissing the corner of his mouth, "but okay. Mom was abusive."
"Ah."
"Yeah. I don't remember her since she… went away when I was two or three. But Dad… he's the way he is because of her. And that's not a dig against him—anyone who puts up with the likes of her has the right to be a little unstable. But yeah. When she left, it was just me and him, and he was a wreck. I kinda had to put him together, and… I sorta had to replace her."
"How?"
"Apparently, she was really happy all the time. Always smiling and stuff, even while she… never mind. Dad missed that, in a way. Her joy. Because he did love her. He loved how she smiled and stuff. And little me apparently thought that he needed that kind of stuff back in his life. It wasn't healthy and it's why we're in therapy together. But it helped, at least a little. It made him less moody and stuff. But it wasn't good at all."
"So you…"
"Forced myself to be happy? Yeah. Until middle school where I realized that I was acting like an abuser—an abuser who hurt my only family. And then, well… I became a shut-in. In the worst possible way."
"How did you get to be…" Izuku gestures at the sky, at a loss. "You're happy and bright, right? Just not…"
"I watched a video online."
"Really?"
"Yep. I was up at two thirty-one AM, watching random videos online. I stumbled across an interview from a pro who's not around anymore. Her name was Rhea."
"Never heard of her," Izuku lies, feeling his heart stir up.
"She was amazing. Strong, beautiful, and just… perfect. She talked about how smiling changes everything, and how continuing to move when others can't is one of the bravest things you can do. I decided that day that I was acting like her and not my mother, and, well, I got into UA."
Rhea. Shimura Nana. Seven. Izuku beams, warmth flooding his chest. He rolls over, holding himself up above Nejire by his knees and forearms. He kisses her. "You're awesome."
"… You too."
How dare All for One try to take his joy. How dare he try to dull his love. How dare Izuku let his greatest enemy pry his way into his mind. He said before that he's not going to let that bastard live in his mind or make him crumble, and he came so close to doing so today. But he can't waver, not even for a second. Doing so means he'll lose when it matters most.
It's just a shame he forgot about the boy on the roof, and smiles unaware of how she giggles over pictures of his twisted leg and the warmth of his two hugs.
Chapter 66: Love.
Patrol. Something normal, routine, basic. Nothing special. Except for when he has to tail a killer and investigate the area where a monster rampaged just a few days before. Technically it's not a patrol, but Izuku and Endeavor are the heaviest hitters in all of Japan, and when the clean-up effort is under the risk of another attack, the workers need some protection. So they make the rounds, keeping in touch with the weaker pros. Izuku helps with moving some rubble and stabilizes a few buildings. The workers are thankful, and everyone on sight feels safe. Except for the press.
"… Unfortunately, we missed the live coverage of the incident, but there is plenty of amateur footage to work with. It's clear that the attack was perpetrated by some kind of inhuman monster. Appearing at approximately eight in the evening, it tore through downtown Tokyo before being stopped by Endeavor and Deku. Casualties—look right there!"
Izuku winces as he sets down an empty dumpster. A news anchor and camera crew rush over, frantically talking about getting more information. Izuku nods to the workers and tells them he'll be back when the dumpster is full again before setting himself down on the ground. He starts to walk away, back to the camera. He could just fly off, but they would be too obvious. If he works while they try to get him to talk, they might get the hint and go away. Or so he hopes.
"Deku! Over here!"
Izuku stops walking, counting to three before putting a smile on. There are so many things he could be doing instead of an interview, things that are actually beneficial, but he has an image to uphold, and, well, the people deserve some answers after what happened. A block and a half were destroyed, and the official cause is a drug-induced rampage. No one buys it, considering that it's no secret that Endeavor put down an animal of some kind. Animals can't do drugs without human interference, especially in the middle of Tokyo. It's only rational to be suspicious.
"Hey, what can I do for you?" Izuku turns and stands tall as two cameras are shoved into his face and a short interviewer frantically fixes their hair.
"Just a few questions," the reporter says, positioning themselves next to Izuku. They barely come up to his shoulder, and the cameras have to back off a little to get them more in the frame. It has the added benefit of making Izuku feel more comfortable. "I'm a big fan and no one wants to keep someone like you busy for long."
"Thanks, I appreciate that," Izuku says, looking around to see if there's an excuse somewhere that would let him leave. The closest thing is a group of clean-up workers playing cards over their break. "Go ahead and ask away."
"How do you feel about the rankings?"
"No comment—wait, what?" Izuku looks down at the reporter, surprised. Don't they want to know about the attack?
"The hero rankings," the reporter repeats. They hold the microphone up to Izuku's face. "They were delayed due to All Might's vacation and the fact that he asked for them to be recounted. Your thoughts?"
"… I mean if All Might wants a recount, I suppose we should give it to him," Izuku says, still a little stunned. He barely remembers talking to Toshinori about it, but he knows that it's not a big deal compared to the path of destruction they're standing in. "Uh, I guess it's good for all the other heroes. They'll have more time to shine, and maybe we'll see some shake-ups in the rankings. I'm no expert, so I can't say much."
"Do you agree with your fans on Best Jeanist?"
Izuku blinks. "Huh?"
"You interned with Hawks and are currently working with Endeavor," the reporter explains. "A lot of people are even bigger fans of them now because of you, while Jeanist has fallen to the side. Do you agree?"
"Well, I… it's hard to argue with facts, I guess," Izuku says, "but Best Jeanist is a great hero, and he doesn't deserve to lose out on respect just because I haven't had the opportunity to learn from him."
"I see. And where do you expect to rank this season?"
Izuku laughs. "Oh, I dunno. Zero, I guess."
"We'd all like a real answer," the reporter pushes.
Izuku takes a moment once he realizes they're being completely serious. "I'm a student," he says slowly, "and sixteen. I can't place, and even if I could, I wouldn't be worthy of it. I'm just too new to this whole thing."
"You're so humble," the reporter says, bringing their mic back down to speak into it. "But your fanclubs have been organizing to vote for you as a write-in candidate. Do you think they'll get you a spot? Most seem to think you deserve to be in the top thirty at least."
"Fan… clubs?" Izuku asks, having heard nothing of them.
"Yes! There's currently three of them. Three major ones, anyways. If you ask me, they're all pretty much the same, even if they claim to be different."
"Three?" Izuku stares down at the reporter, trying to wrap his head around everything. "I… okay. I mean, I don't. There's a ton of heroes who've put in a lot of work and deserve to be voted for. I'm just a high school student with a flashy Quirk. I can wait for my turn."
"As expected of you!" the reporter says with a smile. "Well, we've probably gotten enough footage. You can return to your duties."
"You… don't want to know about the villain attack?"
"Hm? Oh, that was an animal attack, right? You took care of it."
"Yeah… sure."
Izuku picks up some more trash and hauls some cement mix to the areas that are ready for it. He checks in with Endeavor and takes a break, sitting on an undamaged roof. Pulling out his phone, he looks up Deku fanclubs. Twenty thousand results. Three websites, twenty blogs, a few hundred Twitter accounts—all dedicated to him. He knows what's probably on them. He was (still is, even if he won't admit it) a gold-star member of the biggest All Might fanclub. He also followed a few Hawks and Miruko pages. Seeing the word simp next to his hero name is nightmare fuel given what he's seen before. But because he's an idiot, he taps the first link anyway.
It's not that bad at first glance. A simple bio about what the site is about and a few ground rules. The banner is a gif of him at the Sports Festival, biting into his medal. Below that is a picture of him from the photoshoot a while back. He scrolls down. It's mostly pictures, a few anecdotes about fan interactions, and talk of hero rankings. But then he sees the fanart and decides that he's better off getting something to eat.
He stops an attempted mugging with a sandwich in hand and makes his way back to Endeavor. There's not much for him to do anymore. Construction has gotten so fast in the modern era that demolition and the like can be done in a matter of hours, and Izuku doesn't have a clue of how to help with making a structure. So he requests to go on patrol. Endeavor deliberates for a moment but allows it, and Izuku takes to the sky. The wind ruffles his hair and chills his face as Izuku heads for a more crime-heavy section of the city.
It's not really a surprise that he ends up by the shipping yards. There are all sorts of shady stuff there, even if it's not overt. Smuggling, theft, fraud, and all classes of villainy. Izuku gets dirty looks just for walking around in a costume. He knows his mom would have a heart attack if she could see him like this, but he keeps Danger Sense on high alert. There's nothing. The blankness allows his mind to wander, all the way to Shale Shipping and the man who worked for it.
The Shie Hassaikai don't have a foothold in Tokyo anymore. None of the Yakuza groups do, to his knowledge. Too many heroes, too many smaller groups and individuals willing to fight to keep it a free market. But Izuku pokes around anyway, making note of the companies present. Most are fishing vessels, at least in the section that he's in. The docks are smaller, practically dwarfs compared to the massive ones for the shipping vessels. He still learns a lot, though. While there's no danger, Izuku can feel an uneasiness in the Quirk whenever he takes a step too close to a ship or a warehouse. He's being watched, and plenty of people are on high alert. Which means he can tell who's legit and who's not. Or at least who's willing to attack a hero to keep their business untouched.
It's interesting. Izuku's used to the hustle and bustle of city streets, but the docks feel almost sleepy. People still run around, hauling catches and docking boats, but the energy feels different. Looser, less rigged. Izuku watches a man light a cigarette with a flame coming from his thumb. He shoots an interested look his way and gets a rude gesture in return. Izuku keeps walking, unphased.
The kind of people here have less respect for the law and heroes. It's a common trait, he finds. They litter, gamble, and harass just about everyone while Izuku is right there. Because what could he do about it? Arrest half the workers on minor charges, send them to court, maybe force them to pay a few fines or spend some time in jail. All that would happen would be a few low-level criminals back out on the streets. In the long term, he'd have made dozens of people angry—probably more, actually—and in the short term, there'd be a lack of dock workers. So Izuku keeps walking.
After a while, he decides to abandon the idea of patrolling the docks. There's just no point to it. He heads for the inner city instead, where most of Tokyo's crime hotspots are. He quickly captures three villains and prevents a car crash. After another quick interview, he moves on. But Shale and Hisashi stick in his head. He knows it's probably dangerous to go poking around, but he can't help it. He just wants to know exactly what his father did. Maybe it would help with leads on All for One, not that there are any shortages. Tsukauchi has been tearing his hair out following every paper trail. But Izuku feels like it's different, and he keeps thinking about it. And that's why he almost misses the robbery. Almost.
"Outta the way!"
Izuku reflexively catches a shower of glass shards as three masked figures leap out of the front display of a jewelry store. He quickly sets the glass down, binding the criminals before they can get a headstart. "Someone call the police," he orders, walking forward as he makes sure Blackwhip has them completely secure. The three criminals struggle and curse, but it's useless. Nothing short of him or All Might could break the whips.
"I thought there weren't supposed to be any heroes here! What gives!"
"Those punks lied to us, dumbass. We'll get 'em back once we're free."
"That's not going to happen any time soon," Izuku says, putting on a smile for the five phone cameras that are already out. "The police will be here shortly. You'll be facing charges of robbery and destruction of property. Maybe even illegal Quirk use depending on how you stole the items."
The next round of curses is cut off by the sound of a police siren. Izuku turns and swings the criminals closer to the street right as a pair of police cruisers pull up. The officers are quick to get out, assess the situation, and slap cuffs on the criminals. It's perfect. Too perfect. Then the radio in the first cruiser crackles to life.
"Reports of arson near the Tokyo Skytree. Possible terrorist attack. Heroes responding."
"I'm gonna get going," Izuku says, watching the officers secure the criminals in their vehicles.
"But that's all the way across the city," one says, clearly skeptical. Izuku only smiles and nods.
"Yeah. It is."
Izuku thinks as he flies. By the Tokyo Skytree is about as vague a description as it gets since the thing is absolutely huge. But then, after a massive burst, he appears a few hundred meters out from the tower, and understands. Smoke pours out of a large office building, the name on the side obscured by fire. Firefighters are already responding, and water-type heroes are furiously shooting into the flames. But there are no villains to be found.
Dashing down to where the largest crowd of first responders is, Izuku searches for someone in charge. An orange, flashing light sits on the pavement a good sixty meters from the burning building. A fire chief stands over it, talking to police, heroes, EMTs, and other firefighters. Izuku runs over to him, waiting until he's done telling a squad of bomb disposal officers to wait until they have the fire under better control. The man whirls around and looks at Izuku, stone-faced.
"What."
"I want to help."
"What've you got?"
"I'm mostly combat-based, but I'm fireproof. I have a ventilator and goggles. If needed, I'm confident that I could carry multiple vehicles."
"How fireproof are you?"
Izuku casts a glance over at the building. "Enough to withstand the heat for a few minutes."
"Go up to the top and search for people. Be prepared to find bodies. The instant you feel woozy, you report back to me. Understand?"
"Yes, sir!"
Izuku flies to the top of the building, sliding his mask up and pulling his goggles over his eyes. Danger Sense runs wild, warning of building collapse and suffocation. But he keeps going, letting One for All swell to fifty percent and then pushing to fifty-five for extra protection. It makes his bones creak, but it's worth it to stay alive.
The flames lick at his costume, parting around him as he walks along the very top of the building. The fabric is new, based on Endeavor's own suit. It won't burn or char, and as long as he plays it safe, it'll hold up for years. Carefully, Izuku searches for a hole in the top of the building, following the thick clouds of smoke. He finds one, and instantly feels his ventilator start to work overtime. He's lucky he thought to upgrade it along with his goggles. There's no way he'd make it without the extra power. The smoke is just so thick; it blinds him as he lowers into the top floor of the building.
Izuku knows it's foolish. He knows it's reckless. He knows it goes against everything he's learned about self-worth. But he can't help it. He casts Danger Sense out, willing his protectiveness to cover the floor. He feels nothing. Timidly, he casts the net out wider. Nothing. Nothing on the top five floors. He's not stupid. He knows what it means. But he can't just leave. As all-encompassing as Danger Sense is, he forces himself to find hope in the chance that it might be wrong. So Izuku wraps himself in Blackwhip, extends a few strands, and begins to sweep the entire floor.
He works down, keeping tabs on the stability of the building. Should it fall, he'll be ready. But he might not have to be. His search is quick but thorough. He finds lots of people, too. He refuses to think of them as bodies. Not yet. Not when there's still hope. Izuku does his best to get everyone out as fast as he can, taking multiple trips to where all the ambulances are. He finds comfort in the fact that other people have been saved and uses it to redouble his efforts. He doesn't stop searching until the fire is out, and even then he finds himself wanting to go back and double-check.
"It's pointless, you know."
Izuku looks up to see Endeavor, who for once has the fire of his face put out. He's just as cold and stony as usual, but he looks tired. Somehow, he's aged ten years since Izuku last saw him.
"As long as there's a chance, there's a reason."
Endeavor shakes his head. "There's search and rescue specialists on the scene. They'll find what's left. We have more important things to be doing."
"Like what?"
"Rest. You're off duty for the remainder of the night and are taking the day off tomorrow to recuperate."
"I can keep going."
"Perhaps, but you'd run yourself ragged doing so. If that were to happen, who'd be on standby if we had another attack? You're more useful resting, as am I."
"Fine. I'll see you Thursday, then."
"Not quite."
"Huh?" Izuku's hand pulls away from his pocket where his phone sits. He was going to update his mom, but the way Endeavor spoke grabbed his attention.
"You're invited to my residence for dinner Wednesday evening."
"Just me?"
"Yes."
Izuku considers it for a moment. "Alright. But my mom's going to make me bring something to eat."
"That is acceptable."
[x]
Dinner. At Endeavor's place. Or is it Mr. Todoroki now? That feels wrong; it's definitely still Endeavor. But how does he address the family? He already calls Shoto 'Shoto' because the boy doesn't care, but what about the rest of the family? How big is the rest of the family? What are they eating? Is it fancy? His mom made him bring homemade rice cakes, and suddenly they feel way underwhelming. But Izuku forces himself to walk up to the gates and hit the buzzer.
"Name?" a voice says, robotic and echoey.
"Midoriya."
"You may enter."
The gates swing inward, completely silent as the dim sunset reflects off the metal. Izuku takes a few steps forward, unsure of what to do because the front yard is huge. A path leads up to the house, but ten more branch off to other areas. It's ridiculous.
"Midoriya."
Izuku nearly jumps at the sound of Shoto's voice. The boy can be so quiet at times—it's sort of scary. "Hi, Shoto," Izuku greets. "Um, I'm guessing I just follow you?"
"Yes."
Shoto turns and walks off towards the house, feet barely making a sound on the path. Izuku walks behind him, taking in the sights. They walk up the front steps and into the mudroom. They take off their shoes and enter the house proper. The first room is practically empty. There's no furniture or decorations. But there are three other doors, one for each wall. Shoto walks through the one directly ahead, into the dining room.
"Sit," the boy says, taking the rice cakes from Izuku. "We'll be out in a moment. Pour yourself tea if you'd like. No one will care."
Izuku watches Shoto slink off through another door. He stares at the table. It's low to the floor with no chairs—the traditional kind, the kind he hasn't sat at in years. Gingerly, he walks over to it and kneels. Tucking his legs under him, Izuku rests his hands in his lap. It's not uncomfortable, but it doesn't feel right. He needs a chair.
Sighing, he reaches for the teapot and grabs a cup. Both are heavy and expensive. He pours his tea and takes a careful sip. It's spicy, tasting strongly of cinnamon and ginger. It's also smooth and crisp, perfectly brewed just like Nedzu's pots.
Nursing his cup, Izuku studies the room. There are a few decorations, but the main attraction is clearly the table. The walls, floor, and lights all have a cold feeling to them, just like the rest of the house and even the man that owns it. Nothing feels lived in. It's all spotless and perfect—unnaturally so. Izuku takes another sip and tries to brush it off.
"H-hello." Izuku gently sets down his tea and stands. He's met with an average-height woman with white hair and red highlights. She looks about twenty-five, and holds a tray of biscuits.
"Hi," Izuku says. "Nice to meet you?" The woman bows, which he returns. She walks over and sets the tray down in the middle of the table before looking at him. She's not nervous. In fact, she carries herself quite confidently. But she's stiff. Awkward like Izuku used to be around new people.
"I am Todoroki Fuyumi," she says, bowing again.
"Midoriya Izuku. Thank you for having me."
The woman nods and looks down at the table. "You may sit at the head. You're the guest."
"Oh," Izuku says, realizing he probably sat in someone else's spot. "I can move." He bends down and reaches for his cup, but Fuyumi beats him to it. She carefully transfers it to the head of the table, making sure to not spill a drop. She looks up at him as though expecting something.
"Ah, sorry," Izuku says, taking a seat. "I haven't had to eat like this for a while. I'm not exactly from a very traditional family."
"I understand," Fuyumi says, taking the spot to his immediate right. She lays her legs to the side, facing him slightly as she reaches for the teapot. She pours herself a cup and refills Izuku's.
"Thank you."
"Of course. Biscuit?"
"Sure."
They sit in silence for a while, sipping tea and eating biscuits. It feels wrong, in a way, like they shouldn't be doing this. But Izuku can't explain why. "When will your family join us?"
"Soon," Fuyumi says, sounding a little relieved. "Father is finishing up some paperwork, Natsuo is double-checking his homework, and Shoto is… being Shoto."
"I see. This tea is good. Did you brew it?"
"I did," Fuyumi nods. "I've been making tea and food since I was little. I actually prepared tonight's meal."
"I'm sure it'll be as good as the tea, then."
"Thank you."
"Fuyumi." Endeavor clears his throat in the entryway, barely fitting through the door frame. "The boys are almost ready. Set the table."
Fuyumi stands and walks away, leaving Izuku and Endeavor alone. "Good evening, sir."
"Evening." Endeavor enters the dining room, taking a seat at the other end of the table closest to the door. He pours tea for himself but doesn't drink. "You're required to fill out paperwork for the incident two days ago."
"I figured I would be," Izuku says. "I can pick it up at the agency during my next shift. Are there any leads?"
"Yes." Endeavor's eyes bore into Izuku's, cold and calculating. "A few. The first person out of the building had a sheet of paper stapled to his forehead. It had a gang sign printed on it, one that's been seen before, but only as tags marking territory."
"So it was an organization testing the waters," Izuku says. "It makes sense that they'd try to see what they could pull without All Might around. Is there already an investigation?"
"Yes. And that robbery you stopped before reporting the scene of the attack is part of it."
"How?"
"Twenty villains apprehended in the half-hour leading up to the explosion reported being sold faulty information," Endeavor explains. "This isn't unusual. One group wants to hit a target but doesn't want to take the heat. So they sell out others, make expendable people to keep the police and heroes busy. Then they hit the target hard."
"So the attack was like that, then."
"It seems that way, though most situations like it happen in reverse. Arson is committed as a distraction, not the main crime. Though with an attack of that scale, it's no surprise that they wanted to have a better shot at a getaway. If I had gotten there faster, I could've arrested them."
"Do we have a motive?"
"No. But the villains arrested claim that the group is idealistic and young. Rebellion against society would be a vague way to describe it, but we can't know without more intel."
"I see." Izuku fights the urge to tap his fingers on the table. "So what do we do?"
"We stay the course," Endeavor says, finally drinking from his teacup. "The police are already ripping apart Tokyo. We simply must wait until there's an uptake in robberies. When that happens, we must be ready to rush to the scene of the next attack."
"I feel like we should be doing more. Preemptive rather than reactive, you know?"
"Heroes are reactive by nature," Endeavor says. "If we go knocking around, we'll send them hibernating. The best and most simple solution is to wait them out and pounce."
"I understand."
"Excuse us." Fuyumi chooses that moment to walk in, flanked on either side by her brothers. Todoroki Natsuo is a plain-looking boy with white hair and a gruff expression. He does little to hide his disdain for Izuku as he sits at his father's left. Shoto is as cold as ever and sits at Endeavor's right, shifted away by a meter or so. Fuyumi sets the table and returns to Izuku's right, so close he can hear her breathing.
The four of them look at Izuku, who shifts under their gazes. He dips his head and reaches for his chopsticks. "I'm grateful for the meal."
The meal in question passes by awkwardly. Izuku learns that Natsuo is in med school and that Fuyumi is a kindergarten teacher. Actually, he learns a lot about Fuyumi, mostly through Endeavor. Apparently, she's great with kids and isn't married. Izuku brushes that aside and talks to the woman herself a little. She's nice, sweet, and quiet. He doesn't mind her at all, a fact that seems to make Natsuo angry if the way he glares is any indication. But Izuku keeps a level head. He compliments the food and the state of the house, and makes sure to finish the meal. He stays for dessert but not much longer after that. He's walked to the front of the house by Fuyumi and exits the gates, ready to sleep. In doing so, he misses a rather important phrase.
"Ten years is hardly a large age gap."
Izuku wakes up the next morning feeling refreshed. He goes about his routine as usual but walks out the door a half-hour early with an extra weight in his backpack. Today's the day: the Cultural Festival. It's not a big deal on its own, since he doesn't have to worry about a massive project, but it's still important, both to him, the school, and his friends, along with the thousands of people attending. But even that doesn't shake him up. He feels great. He'll show up, hang out with his friends, work his stand for a while, and then visit the other attractions.
If he can get away from his stand, that is. Aizawa has made it no secret that ticket sales have increased this year, probably because of him. Izuku just hopes people are respectful of his schedule, but he knows hero fans.
"Morning," Izuku greets, setting down his backpack on top of his desk. Aizawa cracks open an eye from his spot against the wall. He closes it and relaxes.
"You better get a move on. Both to get your stuff ready and to help out the support courses."
"I guess they need some heavy lifting done?"
"Yeah."
Izuku nods and unpacks his bag. He leaves all of his school supplies in the classroom but takes everything else to the lockers. He changes from his street clothes to something a little more formal. It's nothing special—just a fitted button-down and a pair of slacks—but it makes him look more presentable. At least according to his mom.
Tucking his phone into his pocket, Izuku checks his list. He quickly writes that he has to help the support course at the top, but he also makes sure he knows when the biggest events take place. Then, he pats the box in his back pocket and walks out.
Helping the support students takes all of twenty minutes. Izuku ferries machines and racks from the main building to the field on campus where the festival is to take place. Then, he gathers what he needs for his own attraction and preps his area. He doesn't need much, but every single U.A student is already hard at work at their own thing. Business students set up food stalls and gift shops, Gen Ed students put the finishing touches on their projects, and the hero courses… Well, the third years have settled for a series of fake fights, all pre-planned and with cartoonish logic. Izuku catches one student practicing their pre-fight monologue and cracks a smile. He has to set up far away from them, otherwise he won't get any customers.
Izuku's booth is nothing fancy. It's actually not even a booth. It's just a table under a piece of canvas stretched across some tent poles. There's a set of ropes tied to poles that make the queue, and a small display of prizes sits behind the main attraction: him. See, the goal of the Cultural Festival is for the other classes to show off what they're good at. The Sports Festival is always hero- and support course-dominated, which is why Izuku's decided to take a step back and work at a business of his own creation. Well, partial creation. He enlisted some help from a certain friend and went through with it. So he finishes the final details of the stand and stakes the sign into the ground.
Arm Wrestle a Hero Student!
Is it cheating? Izuku's not sure. As a hero student, he's allowed to use his Quirk for it—just like how the support kids can use their gadgets. But then again, who on earth would be able to beat him? The image of All for One, snarling in anger as he takes a seat across from Izuku and takes his hand to fight against him, crosses through his mind. He laughs a little and flies off to find his friends.
"How's it going?" Izuku greets as he lands just short of class 2-B's Dunk a Hero attraction. Mirio grins when he sees him and drops his drill to jog over.
"Hey, man! Got done early?"
"Yeah," Izuku says, accepting Mirio's hug. "Mine isn't fancy or anything. What about Tamaki's?"
"Oh, they're doing a stage play. It's a spoof of Beauty and the Beast."
"Would he be the beast then?" Izuku asks. "Since his Quirk would be perfect for that."
"Nah," Mirio says with a smile, "he's a really timid Gaston. Of course, he's nervous, but I told him that feeling that way would literally make the play better and I think he's okay now. I'm still gonna check up on him, though."
"Not a bad idea," Izuku agrees. "I'll probably give him some encouragement too. Unless you want some time to yourselves?" He smiles slyly, making Mirio half laugh and half flush.
"You've been spending too much time with Nejire, I swear. Hey, speaking of—"
"Her birthday's tomorrow, I know," Izuku interrupts. He digs in his back pocket and pulls out the box. "I've got her something, don't worry."
"Nice. She doesn't like parties or making a big deal of it, so I thought I'd make sure."
"I appreciate it. Um, do you know where she is right now?"
Mirio thinks for a second. "Well, class 2-A is over by the main entrance making sure their food stands don't fall down, but she's probably getting ready for the pageant."
"Pageant?" Izuku asks. "Nejire entered the UA beauty pageant?"
"She didn't tell you?" Mirio says, surprised. Izuku shakes his head. "Well, you're in for a surprise. Go on over and try not to melt into your shoes!"
Izuku doesn't think much about Mirio's comment. He simply flies away, over to where the biggest stage in the entire fairground is. It's only that big because it's multipurpose. There's the pageant, speeches, awards, and even a comedy act. But the beauty pageant is first, and so the building behind the stage is full of people getting ready.
Izuku lands and enters, finding that it's all completely open. No walls, no windows, lots of people. A ridiculous amount of people. Like, Izuku has to wade through an army of students to try and find Nejire. There are girls putting on dresses, guys putting on dresses, and enough mirrors to make his head spin. For every competitor, there are two or three assistants helping with hair and makeup. It's all very excessive in his opinion, but Izuku keeps looking, wandering all the way to the back. When he does find her, he smiles, only catching the back of her hair. Then, on a whim, she turns. And Izuku freezes.
She looks great. Amazing. Perfect. Hot. Beautiful. A million adjectives flow through his mind, none of them quite right. She waves at him, her smile lighting up the room. Izuku feels his heart quicken, and he raises a hand to offer a wave back. When he puts his hand down, he just stands there, staring. Nejire blinks and cocks her head. "Izuku?"
"You broke him, Nej."
"Ah! Whoops." Nejire lifts into the air, happy to use her Quirk when it's not remotely necessary. "I'm glad you like it! It's been a pain getting it on and making sure everything's perfect."
"… Yeah," Izuku says, letting Nejire take him by the arm. He stares at her as he walks, trying to get how she looks through his head. Because she's absolutely beautiful. But at the same time, she feels different. Still bubbly, but more refined. Or maybe suppressed. Nejire normally bounces everywhere and refuses to stop moving. She plays with his hands or his hair and constantly leans on him. Now, she simply settles for resting her hand in the crook of his arm. It's not bad, just different.
"How's your morning been?" Nejire asks.
"Fine. It's pretty great now," Izuku says without thinking, and Nejire smiles.
"I wonder why. Do you want to sit with us for a bit? There's some time to kill before we have to line up."
"I just came in to say hi," Izuku admits, "but I can wait until the gates open."
"Alright." Nejire pecks him on the cheek and leads him over to a stool. "Just hang here for a bit. Once we finish up, we can talk until we're out of time."
"Fine by me." Izuku sits and lets his mind relax. Or tries to. Nejire is still right there and is still dressed in an unfairly attractive outfit, and she is his girlfriend. So he ends up staring at her. He'd feel creepy if she didn't do the same to him sometimes, and he never feels weird when she does it. Izuku watches as a pair of girls help fix microscopic errors in her makeup and hair, wondering how they all have the patience for it.
Once they finish up, Nejire happily takes him over to an area with couches and chairs. She doesn't sit, but she leans against the back of one, talking about the pageant. "Anyone can enter. Literally anyone. But the kicker is that you have to wear a dress."
"That's… interesting," Izuku says, watching a group of mischievous-looking boys helps one of their friends into a bright pink sundress. "Do you know why that's a thing?"
"Nah, but it's probably a sexist reason," Nejire says with a shrug. "Anyways, it's a beauty pageant but also a showcase of your skills. So, like, you can't just walk up there dressed nicely. You have to show off a little. Last year, I did a dance routine."
"You dance?"
"Yep. Took five years of lessons. It helps with balance and flexibility. I came in fourth, which isn't bad. But I want first this time around, so I'm doing something different."
"And that would be…"
"Aerial acrobatics."
"Wouldn't that kind of be like dancing?"
"Yeah! That's kinda the point. I've done all of it plenty of times before, so I know I'm good at it. No one else can really do it, either, so it'll have a uniqueness factor. I just need to look really good and I'll have it in the bag."
"You look really good right now," Izuku says. He feels his face flush. "Not that you don't look good all the time, because you do. It's just, now you're… not better looking. Not that you look like you always do, but, like… I like your hair?" Izuku says weakly. Nejire giggles and snorts, bumping her shoulder into his. Over the intercom, an announcer lets everyone know that it's time to line up.
"You're too cute," she says, pulling him to his feet and grabbing his chin with her fingers. She tilts his head to the side and looks at his cheek. But apparently, that's not the one she wants because she turns his head again and kisses the other one. "I love it. I also get what you mean. See you later?"
"Of course. Love you."
"I know."
Nejire leaves him a smiling, pink-faced mess as she walks off with one of her friends. Izuku sits on the couch, taking a moment to realize that there's still another person there with him. "Hey?" he says, greeting the tallish girl with short brown hair. She looks at him flatly, unimpressed.
"There's lipstick on your cheeks."
Izuku swears and quickly wipes it away, getting some on his sleeves. Once he thinks he's done he looks back at her, only to see her glaring. "You made it worse. Hold still." She takes a step forward and uses the bottle in her hand to wet a cloth. She roughly wipes it across the sides of his face, pulling away to throw the rag over her shoulder. "I don't like you."
"Oh… kay?" Izuku says, rubbing his cheeks.
"But you make Nejire happy."
"Thanks?"
"Yeah. Bye."
Izuku blinks as the girl walks away, completely at a loss. Thinking nothing of it, he gets up and walks over to where the spectator's entrance for the pageant is. He's got some time before his stall opens, so there's no harm in watching.
A few people go before Nejire, but they're nothing special. Nejire, though, does amazing. She introduces herself, talks up her achievements, and performs in the air for a few seconds. It's great, but clearly not her full routine. She'll probably get more and more complex as the rounds go on, but Izuku's sure she'll win. She's just that good.
Making his way back to his stall, Izuku finds that there's already a crowd. A business student is holding them back, but as soon as they see Izuku, they start to go crazy. Izuku smiles and takes his seat, challenging them all, insisting that he won't use his Quirk unless they use theirs. He wins the first twenty rounds easily but lets a few little kids beat him. They walk off with some stuffed animals, and he watches with a smile.
The day passes quickly, and Izuku decides to call it quits on his stand as the sun begins to set. He heads for the stage, grabbing some food along the way. He arrives in time to watch the final four of the beauty pageant, which has been broken up by other acts on stage throughout the day. He claps politely as the contestants go, intrigued by the antics of a girl from 2-G. But he cheers for Nejire, loud and proud. She does amazing, and he's sure she'll win. Then the voting starts.
Nejire doesn't do good. Actually, she places a respectable second, but the gap between her and first place is large. Izuku watches as he politely accepts her trophy and walks off, knowing that her smile is fake. He only thinks about what to do for a split second.
Izuku flies, soaring above the crowd and keeping his lightning in check. No one notices him. He quickly finds Nejire backstage, staring at her second-place trophy. She's not alone, but the people with her back away when they see him.
"Hey," Izuku says, softly wrapping his arms around her shoulders. The trophy clatters to the floor. "How're you holding up?"
"Awful."
"Yeah. It was a dumb question, I know. Wanna fly?"
"Fly?"
"Like a bird."
"Is that allowed?"
"Do you care?"
"I guess not."
Izuku takes off, holding her in his arms. He gets about a hundred meters up before dropping her. She screams and curses something foul, but easily rights herself. "What was that for?"
Izuku smiles and zips around her. "A shock to the system. You're so down right now. Wanna race?"
"Race? Where?"
"Oh, I dunno. Actually, I do. But you'll only get to know when we get there."
"That's not how races work."
"Too bad. See you 'round!"
Izuku dashes away, hearing the sparkle of Nejire's spirals in his wake. He slows, letting her catch up a little before turning into a dive. She follows. He pulls out of the dive and heads right for U.A's walls.
"Izuku…"
"It'll be great! Trust me!"
They soar over the stone and steel, climbing higher and higher until the festival is nothing more than a star in the night. Nejire starts to shiver, so Izuku wraps her up in another hug. "Why?"
"'Cause I love you. Now look down." Nejire does, taking in the city lights below. "Now up." Izuku tilts back, laying her against his chest so she can see the moon and stars.
"It all looks pretty."
"Almost as pretty as you."
Nejire snorts. "Sap. And I lost today, so…"
"I voted for you."
"So? Barely anyone else did."
"People have awful taste, you know. And, well… I think that support girl fudged the numbers."
"Really."
"Yeah. I mean, she's good with computers, and she has nothing on you."
"Tell that to the entire school."
"I would."
"Hm?"
"I'd tell everyone. I'm not ashamed. I wouldn't be lying. You're better than her in every way. Her and everyone else in the pageant. I'd tell the whole world if you asked."
"You're so corny."
"Is it working?"
"I dunno. Keep going?"
Izuku chuckles and starts to fly, letting Nejire pull her own weight but still holding her hand. "Your smile's more beautiful than the moon."
"That takes the cake for the dorkiest thing you've ever said."
"For now. I think I could top it."
"How?"
"By talking to you. Seriously, I… I know that you wanted first place and to be liked by the whole student body. And I know that you feel crummy for not getting there. But I'm still here. I still love you. I know it won't change the outcome or how you feel about it, but I wanted to remind you. Y-you're my pageant queen."
"Oh my god," Nejire giggles, spiraling around him. The gold lights up the night, warming his skin. "You're so awful."
"Yeah," Izuku admits, pulling her close again. "But it worked."
Nejire nods seriously, cracking a smile. "Can't argue with that logic."
"Also, happy birthday."
"A little early. It's tomorrow."
"I know. But I figured that you'd want this early." Izuku reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the box. It's light in his hand, roughly the size of a CD case. Nejire takes it and opens it up, and a light shines into the night sky.
"Is that…"
"A necklace like the one you gave me? Yeah. Mine… it's helped me a lot. So I figured…"
"I love it." Nejire pulls the necklace out, slipping the box into one of Izuku's pockets and admiring the spiral charm. She puts it on, smiling as it rests on her chest. Izuku pulls his out from under his collar. They embrace, feeling each other's warmth in the cold night sky as though forever.