Chapter 4: Strings of Fate
Do you all think Izuku should make One for All his or not? I am still debating whether or not I should.
I hope you all have a good day.
Chapter 4: Strings of Fate
2 WEEKS LATER
Izuku sighed as he lay in his bed. It was a Saturday, and it was his day off from damn near everything. No homework, no training because it was his rest, no nothing. He sat up and decided he wanted…no he needed to do something.
He got dressed and headed downstairs to head out. He looked to see Inori and Ichiro on the couch watching the latest hero rankings on TV as he went to the door.
Inori looked over to Izuku and smirked. "Well, if it isn't my useless brother, Deku," she said looking over at him. Izuku just ignored her. She never would have said this if their parents weren't around but he didn't care right now.
"Oi, Deku I was talking to you," she said sitting up to walk over to him.
"Yeah, I know," he said as he was putting on his right shoe.
Inori narrowed her eyes, her tone growing more condescending. "Where do you think you're going, huh? It's not like you got any friends."
"Yeah, I know I don't. You two made sure of that," he said pointing at Ichiro and Inori.
Inori's expression hardened at his words, and Ichiro, who had been lazily lounging on the couch, sat up at the mention of his name. "What did you just say?" Ichiro's voice was calm but laced with a dangerous edge.
Izuku turned slowly to face his older brother, his gaze steady despite the growing tension. "You heard me. You two made sure that your younger brother was made known to the world that he was quirkless, useless, and a waste of space. You remind everyone and myself of that every day. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to get some fresh air," he said as he finished putting his shoes on," stepping out of the apartment.
Ichiro's voice called out sharply just as Izuku reached the door. "Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, Deku."
Izuku froze for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorknob. He had always hated that nickname, especially coming from his siblings. It wasn't just the word—it was the weight of their contempt behind it. Slowly, he turned his head to glance back at Ichiro, his expression calm but firm.
"I'm not walking away," Izuku replied. "I'm choosing not to waste my time arguing with the two people who always think they are always right," he said, shutting the apartment door.
Izuku walked away from their apartment and sighed. "God that gets old," he said as he was trying to figure out something to do.
Izuku wandered down the familiar streets, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. It felt liberating to be away from the suffocating atmosphere of his apartment, even if it meant dealing with the uncertainty of what to do next. His hands were shoved deep into his jacket pockets, and he kept his head low, avoiding the gazes of passersby. He wasn't in the mood for unnecessary interactions, but the world around him still buzzed with life.
"You know, they sure are lucky that I have never thought about ending my life. They would be liable for it but then again. Quirkless people are treated like garbage anyway," he thought sadly.
It still bothered him that no one believed that he wasn't quirkless anymore but he decided to leave it at that and try to find something to do. As he walked down the street he say something out of the corner of his eye and it was an instrument store.
Izuku's steps slowed as he turned his attention to the instrument store. The warm glow of its interior spilled out through the large glass windows, and the sight of neatly arranged instruments caught his eye. Guitars hung on the walls, keyboards lined the back, and various percussion instruments were set up on display stands. Something was inviting about the place, a sense of calm creativity that drew him in.
He pushed open the door, a soft chime signaling his entrance. The inside of the store smelled faintly of polished wood and leather, a combination that instantly put him at ease. A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, cleaning a violin with meticulous care. He glanced up at Izuku with a friendly smile.
"Welcome! Let me know if you need any help," the man said before returning to his work.
Izuku nodded at him and smiled as he looked at the selection. He packed a buttload of money today in case he wanted to have a lot of fun. (Not like that you perverts).
As he looked at the guitars he wasn't too sure what to get. Whether it was an acoustic or an electric one. He was interrupted from his thoughts as someone tapped him on the shoulder.
"Trying to figure out what kind of guitar you want?" asked a feminine voice from his side.
"Yeah. I've never played or anything so I don't know where to start," he said turning to the girl.
Izuku turned to see a girl with short, black hair and a pair of headphone jacks dangling from her earlobes. Her sharp, black eyes appraised him with a mix of curiosity and confidence. She wore a leather jacket over a band T-shirt, paired with ripped jeans and boots, exuding an air of cool nonchalance. A pair of drumsticks were tucked into her jacket pocket, hinting at her musical background.
The girl gave him a small smirk. "Well, if you're starting fresh, you've come to the right place. I'm Kyoka Jiro. I know a thing or two about guitars—and music in general."
Izuku offered a shy smile, a bit taken aback by her easy demeanor. "I'm Izuku Yagi. I've been thinking about picking up music to… y'know, try something new. Do you work here?"
"Oh no I don't, I saw you were struggling and decided to help," she said shrugging.
Jiro tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "You seem like someone who could use a good escape," she said, her tone softer. "Music has a way of drowning out the noise in your head. Trust me, it's worth it."
Izuku nodded, appreciating her understanding without needing to delve into the details of his situation. "So, uh, where should I start? Acoustic or electric?"
Jiro tapped her chin, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Well, that depends. Acoustic is great for starting out—easy to pick up, no extra gear. Plus, it's versatile and portable. But if you're into the idea of rocking out and making some serious noise, electric's the way to go."
Izuku scratched the back of his head. "I don't know… I think I'd like something I can play at home without disturbing anyone."
"Acoustic it is," Jiro said, her smirk returning. "Follow me."
She led him to a display of acoustic guitars, her movements confident and purposeful. She stopped in front of a row of instruments, running her fingers lightly over the polished wood. "Here. This one's a classic starter guitar. Solid build, good sound, and it won't break the bank."
Izuku reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the guitar. He picked it up, marveling at its lightweight and the warmth of the wood against his palms. "It's… nice," he said, his voice tinged with wonder.
Jiro chuckled. "Nice is a good start. Let me show you how to hold it."
She stepped closer, her hands moving with precision as she adjusted his grip on the guitar. "Relax your shoulders. Let it rest against your body like this. See? Comfortable, right?"
Izuku nodded, his grip steadying under her guidance. "Yeah. It feels… natural."
"Good," she said, stepping back and crossing her arms. "Now, let's try a basic chord. Place your fingers here and here. Press down firmly, but not too hard—you don't want to strain yourself."
Izuku followed her instructions, his brow furrowed in concentration. He strummed the strings, producing a sound that was more twang than melody. He winced, but Jiro smirked.
"Hey, it's a start," she said. "No one's a pro on their first try. Keep at it."
Izuku smiled sheepishly, his cheeks tinged pink at his less-than-perfect first attempt. "Thanks, Jiro. I think I'll buy this," he said picking it up and taking it to the counter.
"Good choice," Jiro said, watching as Izuku carefully carried the guitar to the counter. The shopkeeper, still polishing the violin, looked up and set his work aside to help.
"Ah, that's a fine instrument," the shopkeeper said with a warm smile. "Great for beginners, but it'll grow with you as you improve." He rang up the purchase, adding a small starter kit with extra strings and a beginner's guidebook. "Do you need a case for it?"
"Uh, yes, please," Izuku replied, fumbling slightly with his wallet. He placed the money on the counter, grateful he'd brought enough to cover everything. As the shopkeeper packed the guitar, Izuku glanced back at Jiro, who had casually perched on a nearby stool, twirling one of her drumsticks.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Every now and then," Jiro said, shrugging. "I like to check out new instruments, maybe pick up supplies. Plus, it's a nice place to unwind."
Izuku nodded, understanding the sentiment. There was something calming about the store's atmosphere, with its faint scent of wood and the quiet hum of conversation. It felt like a safe space, a small bubble of peace in an otherwise chaotic world.
The shopkeeper handed him the guitar, now snug in a protective case. "Take good care of it," he said. "And don't hesitate to come back if you need anything."
"Thank you," Izuku said, bowing politely before turning to Jiro. "Thanks for your help, too. I probably would've left empty-handed if you hadn't stepped in."
Jiro smirked, standing up and slinging her drumsticks back into her jacket pocket. "No problem. It's fun seeing someone get into music for the first time. Just promise me you'll practice, yeah? Don't let that guitar gather dust."
"I won't," he said bowing. "Thank you again," he said leaving but was stopped once more by her putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait, give me your number," she said pulling out her phone. Izuku blushed immediately after that.
"Uh, sure!" Izuku stammered, fumbling for his phone. His hands trembled slightly as he unlocked it, the sudden request catching him completely off guard. He wasn't used to people being so direct with him, especially someone as effortlessly cool as Jiro.
Jiro smirked, clearly amused by his flustered reaction. "Relax, it's not a big deal," she said, holding out her phone. "Here, put your number in."
Izuku nodded quickly, typing his number into her phone with careful precision. When he handed it back, Jiro glanced at the screen to confirm it was saved and gave a small nod of approval. "Alright, Yagi. I'll shoot you a text later. Don't ignore it, or I'll know you're slacking off."
He chuckled nervously, his cheeks still pink. "I won't. Promise."
When he got home, he placed the guitar case on his bed and carefully opened it. The polished wood gleamed under the soft light of his room, and Izuku ran his fingers along the body, marveling at its craftsmanship. He took out the beginner's guidebook the shopkeeper had included and flipped through the pages, eager to get started.
He spent the next few hours experimenting with the chords Jiro had shown him, strumming clumsily but with determination. His fingers fumbled over the strings, producing awkward sounds more often than not, but he didn't let it discourage him. Each twang and misstep felt like a small step forward, a piece of the learning process.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the room darkened, his phone buzzed on his desk. He picked it up to find a message from an unknown number:
"Hey, it's Jiro. Practicing already, right? Don't tell me you gave up after one day."
Izuku grinned and quickly typed a reply:
"Of course! I've been practicing for hours. It's harder than I thought, though."
Her response came almost immediately:
"Good. It's supposed to be hard. But you'll get there. Keep practicing and you'll be good in no time. Say what school do you attend?"
Izuku hesitated for a moment before replying. It wasn't that he didn't want to answer Jiro's question, but it still felt strange to talk about his personal life with someone he'd only just met. Still, she'd been kind and encouraging, so he figured there was no harm in telling her.
"Aldera Junior High," Izuku typed back, then hesitated before hitting send. After a moment, he pressed the button, feeling a small flutter of nervousness as he did so. It wasn't like Aldera had the best reputation, and he wasn't sure how Jiro might react.
Her reply came quickly:
"Huh, Aldera. Not exactly the most famous school but I guess it gets the job done. Do you plan on becoming a hero or are you just doing music as a hobby?"
"I would love more than anything to be a hero and I am working on becoming one by going to U.A. High. I am learning music to have as a hobby so that I am not always training, reading, or overexerting myself," he texted her.
"U.A., huh? That's pretty awesome. I get the whole 'balance' thing, though. Heroes can't save the world if they burn out, right? Plus, music's a great way to relax and focus on something other than the stress of everything."
The two continued to text each other making Izuku smile more and more. This was a friend that he could consider an actual friend. Not unlike Bakugo or his siblings. It might have been his first year at Aledera Junior High but he couldn't wait to get out of there. He hoped that this new friendship would last.
1 MONTH LATER
"Harder Izuku," said Arai as he laid out another palm strike at Izuku's chest. Izuku dodged the attack by going for a leg sweep but his sensei had dodged that one as well. Izuku always remarked that Arai having a triple-jointed quirk was always a pain because he could just dodge about 95% of his attacks. It was likely why Arai used to be number 73 in hero rankings.
Izuku quickly rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a spinning backkick that would've knocked him flat on his back. His heart raced, and sweat trickled down his forehead as he rose to his feet, trying to shake off the growing fatigue. Arai was relentless—his quirk, which allowed him to stretch and twist his limbs in unnatural ways, made him nearly impossible to predict. Every time Izuku thought he had the upper hand, Arai's strange, triple-jointed limbs gave him the flexibility to escape.
"Come on, Yagi! You've been training for months now! You should be able to land a clean hit by now!" Arai's voice was stern but not unkind, a sharp contrast to the playful teasing he sometimes gave during their sparring sessions.
Izuku panted, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I know, I know. It's just... hard to keep up with your quirk." He adjusted his stance, trying to anticipate Arai's next move, his mind running through various techniques he'd learned over the past month.
Arai's eyes gleamed with that familiar, calculated amusement as he prepared another attack. "Your biggest weakness, Yagi, is that you're too predictable. You're relying too much on what you already know. You need to start thinking outside the box if you want to outmaneuver me."
Izuku bit his lip. He knew Arai was right. His usual method of brute force wasn't going to work here, especially when facing someone with such an unpredictable quirk. He needed to adapt, to improvise.
Just as Arai launched himself forward, Izuku dropped to a crouch and let his opponent pass over him, narrowly avoiding the palm strike aimed at his head. With a burst of speed, Izuku reached out, grabbing Arai's ankle as he tried to spring back. Using Arai's momentum against him, Izuku twisted his body and sent his sensei tumbling to the floor.
Arai stared up at him, clearly surprised. "Well, well, Yagi. Looks like you're starting to get it."
Izuku, though exhausted, couldn't help but smile. "It feels... different, but I think I'm getting the hang of it."
Arai pushed himself up with a grunt and offered a hand to Izuku. "That's what I like to see. You're finally thinking on your feet. Keep this up, and you'll be ready for U.A. in no time." Izuku had told him that he would like to go to U.A. a couple of years down the road and he was one of the few that believed in him. Aside from Jiro of course who supported him in his endeavors.
"Thanks, Arai-sensei," Izuku said, bowing slightly. "I'll keep working at it."
Arai smirked, crossing his arms. "Good. You're making progress, Yagi, but don't let it get to your head. You've still got a long way to go before you're ready for U.A. Keep training, keep pushing yourself. Oh, and one more thing."
Izuku blinked, looking up at him. "Yes?"
Arai leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't forget to ice those bruises. I went easy on you today, but tomorrow? Well... let's just say you might need to start stretching before you even walk through that door."
Izuku laughed nervously. "Right, I'll make sure to do that."
As he left the dojo, Izuku felt a surge of pride and determination. It wasn't just the physical progress he was making—it was the mental fortitude he was building. He'd started this journey unsure of himself, but every sparring session, every lesson from Arai, was helping him believe in his dream of becoming a hero.
He felt his phone vibrating and he looked down to see who it was and it was Jiro. He was honestly happy that him and her had become pretty good friends. He was a lot better at the guitar than he was when he first started playing and it was because of Jiro giving him advice and pointers.
He picked up his cell phone as he walked out of the gym answering her. "Hello," he said.
"Hey, Yagi I was wondering if you were busy?" she asked curiously.
"Not particularly at the moment. I just got done with the gym," he said as she hummed thoughtfully.
"Would it be okay if you were to have dinner with my family and me? It's up to you if you want," she said not wanting to force him.
Izuku hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the invitation. Dinner with Jiro's family? It felt like a big step, considering they'd only known each other for about a month. But then again, Jiro had been nothing but supportive and kind to him, and the idea of spending more time with her—especially in a setting outside of training or texting—sounded nice.
"I'd love to," Izuku said, a small smile forming on his lips. "Are you sure your family won't mind?"
Jiro chuckled on the other end of the line. "Trust me, my parents are cool. My mom's been curious about the 'new friend' I keep mentioning, so you'll probably score some points just by showing up."
"Okay, where should I meet you?" Izuku asked, shifting his gym bag to his other shoulder.
"I'll text you the address. It's not too far from where you are. Come by around seven?"
"Sounds good. I'll see you then," Izuku replied.
"Great. Oh, and Yagi?"
"Yeah?"
"Relax."
"Well…I'm just an awkward guy you know," he said rubbing the back of his head.
"Yeah I know that but it's fine."
Izuku laughed nervously. "Thanks for the warning. See you later."
Hanging up the call, Izuku felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Meeting someone's family was a big deal, even if it was just as friends. He quickened his pace, heading home to shower and find something presentable to wear.
He cleaned up and threw on a gray long sleeve with black pants along with his red shoes and he was eventually on his way.
Izuku arrived at the address Jiro had sent him, pausing outside the modest yet welcoming home. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves swirling in his stomach. Relax, Jiro had told him. Easier said than done. He adjusted the strap of his gym bag, then checked his phone to confirm the time—6:55 PM. Right on time.
The front door opened just as he reached it, and Jiro stepped out, her usual cool demeanor lightened by a warm smile. She wore a casual hoodie and jeans, her headphones draped around her neck. "Hey, Yagi. Perfect timing."
"Hey," he replied, smiling back. "Thanks for inviting me."
"No problem. Come on in," Jiro said, stepping aside to let him in.
"Mom, Dad! He's here!" Jiro called out, guiding Izuku into the living room.
Izuku was met by the sight of her mother first and it was pretty office from there where she got her looks from. It looks like she also got her quirk from her as she had the same Earphone Jacks that she had.
Her mother greeted him with a warm smile that radiated genuine kindness. "You must be Yagi! Jiro's told us so much about you," she said, extending her hand.
Izuku shook it, his nerves slightly easing at her welcoming demeanor. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Jiro. Thank you for having me over."
"Please, call me Mika," she insisted. "And this is my husband."
Mr. Jiro entered from the kitchen, a tall, slightly intimidating man with a serious expression. However, as he approached, his face softened into a friendly smile. "Welcome, Yagi. I'm Kyotoku. Hope you're hungry; I made plenty of food."
Izuku nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Thank you for having me."
"Dude you can chill my dad doesn't bite," she said trying to call him down. Izuku could have sworn that he saw her dad give him a glare which made him look down at the ground.
Jiro noticed Izuku's unease and quickly stepped in, giving her dad a pointed look. "Seriously, Dad, stop trying to scare my friends. It's not funny."
Kyotoku held up his hands in mock surrender, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Alright, alright. I'm just messing with the kid."
Izuku managed a small laugh, though his heart was still racing. "It's okay. I'm just… not used to meeting new people like this."
Mika smiled warmly. "You're doing just fine. Come on, let's sit down. Dinner's ready."
The dining table was already set, with bowls of steaming rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and an assortment of side dishes that made Izuku's stomach rumble. He took a seat across from Jiro, her father sitting at the head of the table and her mother to his right.
"So, Yagi," Mika began as she poured tea into their cups, "Jiro tells us you're planning on going to U.A."
Izuku blinked at the question, momentarily caught off guard. "Oh, um, yes, ma'am. I plan on going there one day and I am training hard to make sure that happens."
"Well isn't that a surprise? Our little Jiro said she has been planning to go there for some time too. For years in fact," said Kyotoku taking a drink of his tea.
Izuku glanced at Jiro, who shrugged casually but couldn't hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, well, I've been working on it," she said, picking at her rice. "It's not like I talk about it all the time."
Mika smiled knowingly. "She's been dedicated to music and training to be a hero since she was little. We always knew she'd aim high."
"But, the question is who is your favorite hero?" asked Kyotoku. Izuku thought about it. He would have said All Might but after recent events, it had changed.
"Truth be told I don't have a favorite hero. I like Endeavor, Edgeshot, Mirko, Death Arms, and a bunch of other ones," said Izuku hoping it was a good answer.
Kyotoku raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Not All Might, huh? Most kids your age are obsessed with him."
"No not him too much. I'm not saying he isn't great but there are so many other heroes," he said a little embarrassed.
Kyotoku nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. "Fair enough. Sorry for not asking you this earlier but tell us a little about yourself," he said narrowing his eyes at him.
Izuku couldn't seem to look him in the eyes and looked at his dinner instead. "Well, my name is Izuku Yagi. I am 12 years old and go to Aldera Junior High. I love to learn a lot of different things and I plan on becoming a hero one day…hopefully the greatest," he said smiling slightly at that last part. Jiro's father still held his expression at him making him feel less confident.
"Dad, can you not stare him down like he's on trial?" Jiro said with an exasperated tone, shooting her father a pointed look. "Seriously, he's not here to defend his life choices to you."
Kyotoku blinked, then chuckled, leaning back in his chair and raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll ease up. Sorry, kid. Habit of mine. I like to know the kind of people my daughter spends her time with."
Izuku managed a small smile, though his heart was still racing. "It's okay, Mr. Jiro. I understand. I… I just want to make a good impression."
"It's alright Yagi. My dad normally isn't this bad," said Jiro sending a glare of her own his way.
Kyotoku raised his hands in defense, looking more amused than apologetic. "Alright, alright, no more interrogations. I'll behave, I promise." He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. "I just want to make sure anyone my daughter hangs around is someone I can trust."
Izuku felt the tension in the room ease a little as the conversation shifted. Mika smiled warmly at him, offering some comforting words to balance out her husband's rough edges. "Don't mind him, Yagi. He just worries, like all fathers do." She patted Kyotoku's arm playfully. "It's nice that you're so focused on your future. Hero or not, it's important to aim high."
Izuku nodded, feeling more at ease with the lighthearted atmosphere. "Thanks, Mrs. Jiro." His eyes shifted over to Jiro, who had returned to picking at her rice. "I, um, also really admire the way you balance everything, Jiro. Music, hero training, school… It's inspiring."
Jiro glanced at him, her cheeks a little pinker than before. "It's hard but it is doable."
Izuku smiled softly, sensing the faint warmth in Jiro's voice. "I can imagine. Balancing all those things must be tough. But you seem to handle it really well." He glanced at her, noticing how she seemed to shrink into herself slightly as if trying to avoid the attention but still unable to hide the pride in her eyes.
"It's not always easy," Jiro admitted, shifting her attention to her plate. "There are days when everything feels like it's falling apart, but I don't give up. I can't afford to."
Her determination resonated with Izuku. He admired it. It reminded him of his own struggles, his own daily challenges in training, school, and trying to prove himself as a hero. "I get that," he said softly, his gaze settling back on the food in front of him. "But... I think it's worth it, right? Even when it feels hard."
Mika chuckled, her voice warm and understanding. "Exactly. It's those tough times that help you grow, Yagi. You'll face obstacles along the way, but it's how you handle them that counts."
Izuku nodded, feeling encouraged by her words. He could see why Jiro had inherited that tenacity from her mother. The conversation continued, flowing more easily now that the atmosphere had settled. They shared stories about their days, small details about what life was like for them, from the latest news in the hero world to funny anecdotes from Jiro's childhood. Izuku found himself laughing along, the tension in his chest slowly loosening as he felt more comfortable in their company.
After dinner, the two parents told the kids to go into the living room to go and relax while they handled the dishes. While they were chilling out and watching television Jiro decided to ask a question that was on her mind.
"Say Yagi, you haven't talked much about your family, is there a reason for that? You don't have to answer if you don't want to," she said trying not to force him. Izuku looked at her and sat up.
"No, I should tell you anyway," he said turning to face her. "Truth be told…my relationship with my parents is strained," he said thinking about how his father Toshinori told him to give up his dream to be a hero with his mother silently supporting it.
Jiro blinked in surprise, not expecting Izuku to open up so quickly. She noticed the way his shoulders tensed slightly, the way his hands gripped his knees as if grounding himself. "Strained? What do you mean?" she asked softly, her tone careful.
Izuku hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "Well… my dad, he's always been strict about what he thinks I should do with my life. And when I told him I wanted to be a hero… he didn't take it well. He said I wasn't strong enough, that it was too dangerous." His voice faltered for a moment, but he pressed on. "He wanted me to focus on something else, something he thought was more realistic. And my mom… she didn't exactly argue with him. She just… went along with it."
Jiro frowned, leaning forward slightly. "That's rough. So they don't support you at all?"
Izuku shook his head. "Not really. All this studying, training, martial arts, and all that stuff. I have been doing this without their knowledge. Then there is the problem with my siblings. I am the youngest of triplets and my older brother and sister are given a lot more attention than me when it comes to that type of stuff. They were given powerful quirks and have the full support of my parents."
Izuku paused for a moment, his expression pained but resolute as he continued. "My brother, Ichiro, has a quirk that can amplify his body tremendously to give him strength, speed, agility, and more while my sister, Inori, has an incredible telekinesis quirk, allowing her to lift things as heavy as fridges and is even trying to lift cars."
Jiro listened intently; her gaze soft but focused. "That sounds…horrible.'
"Yeah, it is but, I am going to prove that I can be a hero. Just as much as they can," he said clenching his fist.
Jiro studied Izuku carefully, noting the fire in his eyes despite the pain etched on his face. She admired his determination—it was a trait she'd noticed in him since they first met, and now she understood where it came from. "I believe you can, Yagi," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "You've already proven so much just by pushing forward, even without their support."
Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Izuku didn't know how to respond. He felt a lump in his throat, but it wasn't the kind of heaviness he usually carried. It was something lighter, something comforting. "Thanks, Jiro. I… I don't hear that kind of thing very often."
Jiro smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, maybe you should hang out with better people more often."
Izuku chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Maybe I should." The rest of the evening went on just fine and it was soon time to leave.
"I guess I should be heading back soon," he said, a tinge of regret in his voice. It had been a long time since he'd felt so at ease, and leaving felt like stepping out of a bubble of warmth and safety.
Jiro shrugged, though there was a flicker of something unspoken in her expression. "Yeah, I guess you should. Don't want your parents to worry… or notice you're gone, right?"
Izuku chuckled softly, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. "Yeah, something like that."
Jiro's parents appeared at the doorway, Mika drying her hands on a dish towel and Kyotoku leaning casually against the frame. Mika smiled warmly. "Heading out, Yagi? You're welcome to stay longer if you want."
"Thank you, Mrs. Jiro, but I should get going," Izuku said, bowing politely. "I really appreciate you having me over. Dinner was amazing, and… it was nice being here."
"That is good kid, safe travels to you," said Jiro's dad waving at him.
"Thank you. Thanks again for having me here Jiro. I'll see you later," he said waving and smiling back at her.
"Yep, bye," she said waving back as he shut the door.
Mika looked at her daughter and smiled. "What a sweet boy. You were kidding when you said he was awkward."
Jiro sighed, slumping into the couch after the door clicked shut behind Izuku. "He's not that awkward, Mom. He's just… shy, that's all." She tried to sound nonchalant, but the warmth in her tone betrayed her.
Mika chuckled, settling next to her daughter. "Shy, maybe. But there's something endearing about the way he speaks. He's genuine, which is refreshing." She gave Jiro a knowing glance. "You don't bring friends home very often. What made you want to bring him over?"
Jiro shrugged, avoiding her mother's gaze. "I dunno. He's different. Not in a bad way, just… he works hard. And he doesn't seem like the type to give up, even when things get tough." Her voice softened as she continued, "It's kind of inspiring, I guess."
Kyotoku joined them, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Inspiring, huh? Sounds like someone's impressed." He smirked, earning a sharp glare from his daughter.
"Dad," Jiro groaned, leaning her head back against the couch. "Don't start."
"Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying, he seems like a good kid. A bit nervous, but good. You could do worse for a friend."
Jiro rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "He is a good guy. A little too hard on himself, though. You heard him—his family doesn't support him, and he's out here training in secret just to prove himself. It's… kind of unfair."
Mika nodded thoughtfully. "It is. But it also says a lot about his character. He's determined, and that's something to admire. Still, it's sad that he doesn't have the support he deserves."
WITH IZUKU
"That dinner could have gone worse," he said to himself as he walked up to his apartment door. He was happy to have made an impression on her parents making them know he was a nice kid.
He opened the door to see that no one was in the living room or dining room area again. He decided to pull out a book to read to get a different environment for reading before he decided to go to bed. He plopped himself down on the couch and pulled out a book about the latest in gadgets and how they were made.
Izuku flipped through the pages of the book, his fingers tracing over the diagrams of intricate gadget designs. The soft hum of the apartment's refrigerator was the only sound accompanying him in the quiet space. He found himself engrossed in an article about a new type of compact jet propulsion system, marveling at the ingenuity behind the design.
He heard something from the door and he saw his dad walk in with a tired look on his face. Toshinori turned around and locked the door and was surprised to see his son. His other son.
"Ah…son…what are you doing?" he asked setting down his briefcase.
Izuku frowned slightly not wanting to look at him. "Reading," was all he said as he tried to indulge himself more in his book.
Toshinori nodded at that. "Reading is always good. Say, I noticed that you no longer have All Might posters and memorabilia in your room."
"Yeah, what about it," he said getting annoyed. Truth, was he took them down the moment he found out his Dad was All Might. The man that treated him like shit and told him to give up on his dream was no hero.
"Well, you just seemed to have stopped…idolizing him," Toshinori said wondering why his son took down the posters.
"Well, I guess we all have to grow up sometime. Besides I needed the money," he said closing his book in annoyance.
Toshinori's brow furrowed as he processed his son's words. "Grow up? Are you feeling, ok?"
"Never felt better," he said walking upstairs to his room.
Toshinori looked confused at his son. Izuku had always seen All Might; himself, as like a god. He shrugged pushing that thought to the side. He needed to prepare for a long night of missions to try to stop crime.