Chapter 5: keep your friends close
izuku woke out of his bed with a yawn. He didn't stand up or anything, he was just laying there, but he was awake... And it felt weird. Not having anything to do for the first time in a while
This was, on paper, a good thing. The USJ attack had been terrifying and exhausting and had left him with bruises in places he didn't know could bruise, and the week-long closure of UA was probably a great way for him to simply relax and unwind.
Recovery Girl had said something about "taking it easy" and "listening to your body"... She also said that if she saw him in her office again this week she'd break his kneecaps. He was pretty sure she couldn't do that but was not willing to test it.
The second thing he noticed was that his ceiling had a crack in it.
He'd never noticed before. It was a small crack, barely visible, running from the corner near the window to the edge of the light fixture. He stared at it for a while. Then he stared at it for a while longer. Then he realized he'd been staring at it for about seven minutes and that this was probably what people meant when they said "going stir-crazy."
He sat up.
His All Might clock read 8:47 AM. He'd slept in. That was also, on paper, a good thing. In practice, it meant he had approximately thirteen hours of unscheduled time stretching out in front of him with no school, no training, no responsibility, and no villains to fight.
He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, processing this.
Then he said "Okay," to no one in particular, and went to go eat breakfast.
Breakfast was rice and eggs. Nothing unusual, tho, his mother hovering around him like he was some fragile doll was pretty new. He'd never seen her as worried as she was
"Do you need more rice? I made extra. I can make more extra. The rice cooker is still warm, it would only take a few minutes-"
"Mom, I'm fine."
"Are you sure? You look tired. Did you sleep enough? Was the bed okay? I can get you a new pillow, that one's getting old, I've been meaning to replace it anyway-"
"Mom."
She stopped, hands clasped in front of her, eyes still scanning him for injuries she'd already catalogued three separate times since he'd come home from the police station.
"I'm okay," he said, and this time he tried to make it sound like he meant it. "Really. Recovery Girl fixed everything. The bruises are basically gone. See?" He held up his arm, which was, in fact, bruise-free. "Good as new."
Inko Midoriya looked at her son's arm. Then at his face. Then back at his arm. Her expression suggested she was really having a hard time believing it. It's not like he couldn't understand. He was her son, she'd be worried about him if he tripped and fell, so if course getting attacked by villains was causing her to worry alot
"The rice is fine," Izuku said, taking another bite to prove it. "Really good, actually. Did you do something different with the seasoning?"
Compliment the food. Classic redirection tactic. He'd learned it from watching her do it to him for fifteen years.
It worked. Somewhat. She unclenched her hands and moved back toward the kitchen, though the line between her shoulders didn't fully disappear. "I added a little bit of ginger. Just a pinch. I read online that it's good for inflammation."
"It's really good."
"Thank you, sweetie."
He finished breakfast while she pretended not to watch him from the kitchen, and he pretended not to notice her watching. It was a comfortable routine.
His room felt smaller than usual.
It wasn't. It was exactly the same size it had always been. But after a week and a half of UA's sprawling corridors and Training Ground Beta's simulated cityscape and the USJ's impossible vastness, his bedroom felt like a diorama of his old life. The All Might posters. The hero analysis notebooks stacked in the corner. The small desk with the lamp that flickered if you looked at it wrong. The window that faced the apartment building next door so closely that he could practically read his neighbor's grocery list.
He loved this room. He'd grown up in this room. He'd dreamed in this room. But for the first time in his life, it felt like a room he'd outgrown without noticing.
He spent the first hour reading.
Not his notebooks. Those were too much like homework, and his brain was still too fried from the USJ to do any serious analysis. Instead, he pulled out an old All Might comic from the stack under his bed, issue #47, the one where All Might fights the Volcano King on the slopes of Mount Fuji and delivers the famous "A hero doesn't choose when to be heroic" speech while holding up a collapsing bridge with one hand and a bus full of civilians with the other.
It wasn't historically accurate. All Might hadn't actually fought a villain called Volcano King. The real Mount Fuji incident had involved a pyrokinetic villain with a completely different name and all might had defeated him much quicker. he used to think it perfectly encapsulated the feeling of being saved by all might, but after having been saved by all might himself, he could say from experience that the comic didn't do him justice.
Izuku had read this issue at least forty times. He still got a little misty-eyed at the bridge scene.
He set the comic aside after finishing it and stared at the ceiling crack again.
Two hours down. Many more to go.
He lasted until 10:36 AM before reorganizing his notebooks.
This was not a necessary task. His notebooks were already organized. They had a system. Chronological, cross-referenced by hero, with color-coded tabs for Quirk type, fighting style, and notable achievements. It was a good system. He'd spent years refining it. The fact that he was now reorganizing them by threat level instead of chronology was less about improving the system and more about giving his hands something to do that wasn't "scroll through his phone waiting for something to happen."
His phone had been suspiciously quiet all morning.
No messages from Aizawa. No messages from Melissa. No messages from Rody or Uraraka or Iida or any of the other students who'd started treating him less like a random piece of furniture in the middle of the room and more like a real guy.
He was in the middle of creating a new subsection for "heroes whose Quirks involve animal transformation" when his phone finally, mercifully, buzzed.
He launched himself across his bed so fast he nearly knocked over his lamp.
Melissa: hey
Melissa: how are you feeling
Melissa: after yesterday i mean
Melissa: i heard about what happened at the USJ from uncle might
He stared at the messages. Four of them, rapid-fire, the way Melissa always texted when she was worried about something. His face did something complicated that he was glad no one was around to witness.
You: I'm okay! Recovery Girl fixed me up. Just some bruises.
The response came almost instantly.
Melissa: good
Melissa: i'm glad
Melissa: i was worried
Melissa: not that i was worried worried
Melissa: just
Melissa: you know
Melissa: concerned in a professional capacity
Izuku's face got warmer.
You: In a professional capacity?
Melissa: as a colleague
Melissa: and a friend
Melissa: mostly a friend
Melissa: anyway
Melissa: are you free today
He stared at the question. Was he free today? Was he free today? Hm. He'd have to think about it
You: yes
He was so free that he'd been reorganizing notebooks by threat level. He was so free that he'd memorized the exact dimensions of the ceiling crack. He was so free that he'd said the word about a hundred times in his head after he woke up. Now it lost all meaning.
Melissa: perfect
Melissa: i know rody's been going stir crazy in nezu's office
Melissa: and i've got some stuff from the support lab i want to show you anyway
Melissa: want to meet up somewhere
Izuku started to type a response. Then stopped. Then started again. Then remembered what Aizawa had said about not going anywhere alone. Then remembered that his mother had been given very specific instructions about not letting him leave the apartment unattended. Then looked at his ceiling crack and thought about the fact that he was technically an adult by government standards and could make his own decisions.
Then he realized something that made him pause entirely.
Wait a minute.
Wait just one minute.
He had friends!
He actually had friends now. Real friends. People who texted him to check on him after villain attacks. People who wanted to meet up with him. People who used phrases like "mostly a friend" and made his face do things he couldn't control.
This was a whole new territory for him. This was completely new. This was-
His phone buzzed again.
Rody: yo midoriya
Rody: you alive
Rody: mel said u got messed up at the USJ
Rody: u good
He stared at the messages. Rody Soul, who he'd known for approximately a week, was checking on him.
He had friends.
You: Yeah, I'm okay. Just some bruises.
Rody: nice
Rody: so mel said something about meeting up
Rody: u down
Rody: cause i got nothing to do all day and nezu keeps looking at me like he knows something i don't want him to know
Rody: which he probably does
Rody: that rat is terrifying
Izuku laughed. It was a small laugh, more of a huff really, but it was the first time he'd laughed since the USJ, and it felt like loosening a knot he hadn't realized was tied.
You: He's not actually a rat.
Rody: yeah well he don't look like anything else in my beastiary
He opened his contacts and started a group chat. This was something he'd never done before. He'd never had enough people to warrant a group chat. The very concept of "group" in the context of his social life had been theoretical.
You: So, do you guys want to come over here? My mom's making lunch and I can't really go anywhere alone right now. Aizawa-sensei's orders.
Melissa: that works
Melissa: send me your address
Rody: yeah sure
Rody: i'll bring snacks or whatever
You: You don't have to bring anything.
Rody: too late i'm already at a convenience store and nezu gave me his credit card.
Rody: what do u want
Rody: they've got like
Rody: 47 kinds of chips
Izuku sent his address to both of them and then put his phone down. Then picked it up again to make sure he'd sent the right address. Then put it down again. Then stood up and walked to his door, then walked back to his bed, then walked to his door again.
He had friends. Coming over. To his apartment. In approximately however long it took to get from UA and I-Island Tokyo respectively.
"Mom!" he called out.
"Yes, sweetie?"
"I'm having some friends over. Is that okay?"
The silence from the kitchen was brief but profound.
"Friends?" Inko Midoriya's voice had gone slightly higher in pitch. "Plural?"
"Yes, Mom. Plural."
Another brief silence.
"I'll make extra rice!"
He met them at the street corner near his apartment building because the building itself was confusing to find, tucked behind a row of shops and accessible only by an alley that most maps didn't acknowledge existed. The morning sun had burned off the last of the previous night's rain, and the air was clean and crisp in the way that only happened after storms.
Melissa arrived first.
She was wearing casual clothes, a light blue sweater and dark jeans, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back in her usual ponytail. The effect was different enough that Izuku's brain took a full second to confirm that yes, this was the same person he saw every day at UA.
"Hey," she said, stopping a few feet away. "You look better than I expected."
"Thanks? I think?"
"That was a compliment." She smiled, and the smile was different too. Less guarded, maybe. She held up a bag that Izuku hadn't noticed her carrying. "I brought something. It's not finished, but I thought you might want to see the progress."
"The gauntlet?"
"The gauntlet." She nodded. "I've been working on it all week. Your words gave me some ideas."
Before Izuku could respond, a voice echoed from down the street.
"Yo! Nerds!"
Rody Soul was walking toward them with the unhurried confidence of someone who had never met a situation he couldn't deflect with a joke. He was carrying two plastic bags from the convenience store, both bulging with what appeared to be an indiscriminate assortment of snacks. His ankle monitor was visible beneath the cuff of his jeans, but he didn't seem to be making any effort to hide it.
"Brought chips," he announced, holding up both bags. "Didn't know what kind so I got all of them. Also some weird soda that was on sale. It's green. I don't know what flavor green is supposed to be."
"Green is usually melon," Melissa said.
"Melon's not green. Melon's orange."
"That's cantaloupe. Melon soda is green."
"Wait, for real?"
Izuku watched this exchange with the quiet wonder of someone who had never been part of a conversation that was this thoroughly pointless. It was great.
"The apartment's this way," he said, gesturing toward the alley. "It's not much. Just a warning."
"Bro," Rody said, falling into step beside him, "I grew up in a one-room apartment with two siblings. Whatever you've got is probably fine."
"...you have siblings?"
"Yeah. I should show you a couple pictures or something."
Melissa walked on Izuku's other side, her bag tucked under her arm. "I've never been to this part of Musutafu before. It's nice. Quiet."
"Quiet is one word for it," Izuku said. "Boring is another."
"Boring is underrated," Rody said. "Boring means no one's trying to kill you. Boring is my favorite thing."
"That's a low bar."
"I've got low standards."
They emerged from the alley and Izuku led them up the three flights of stairs to the Midoriya apartment. The hallway was narrow and the carpet was faded and the light fixture on the second floor landing had been flickering since Izuku was eight years old, but somehow, walking between Melissa and Rody, none of it felt embarrassing.
He unlocked the door and pushed it open.
"Mom, we're here!"
Inko Midoriya appeared in the kitchen doorway with the speed of someone who had been waiting for approximately twenty minutes and pretending not to be. She was wearing her "company is coming" apron, which was slightly nicer than her regular apron, and her smile was bright enough to power a small city.
"Welcome, welcome! Please come in! Izuku's told me so much about you both!"
"Mom," Izuku said quietly, "I've mentioned them like twice."
"Nonsense, you talk about them all the time!"
This was true, but Izuku had been hoping no one would notice.
Melissa stepped forward with the practiced grace of someone who had been raised to make good first impressions. "It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Midoriya. I'm Melissa Shield."
"Oh, you're the one who works with All Might! Izuku has mentioned you alot specifically. He said you were very-"
"Mom" izuku interrupted before she could embarrass him.
"Smart" the matriarch midoriya said, changing her words "And you must be Rody! Izuku said you work with the principal!"
Rody, who had been in the process of trying to figure out where to put his snack bags, looked up. "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Midoriya. Your son's been, uh, really helpful with the whole 'figuring out how UA works' thing."
"He's a good boy," Inko said, and the pride in her voice was so genuine that Izuku had to look away.
"Mom, we're just going to hang out in my room."
"Of course, of course! I'll bring snacks in a little while. Actual snacks, not just..." She glanced at Rody's convenience store bags. "Whatever that is."
"Hey, I'll have you know this green soda was very affordable."
Inko smiled, and it was the smile of a mother who had decided, after a singular conversation that she liked both of her son's new friends very much. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything."
Izuku's room was exactly as he'd left it. Filled to the teeth with all might memorobilia
"Whoa," Rody said, stopping in the doorway. "You really like All Might."
The posters covered most of one wall, overlapping in places where Izuku had run out of room and started a second layer. The figurines occupied a shelf that was running out of shelf. The comic he'd been reading earlier was still open on his bed, All Might's face frozen mid-"I AM HERE."
"I've been collecting since I was a kid," Izuku said, suddenly self-conscious. "It's kind of gotten out of hand."
"Kind of?" Rody picked up an All Might bobblehead from the desk and examined it with the expression of someone who had never encountered a bobblehead before. "Dude, this is a shrine."
"It's not a shrine!"
"It's a little bit of a shrine," Melissa said, but there was no mockery in her voice. She was looking at the notebooks, the stacked volumes of Hero Analysis for the Future that lined the corner of his room. "How many of these are there?"
"Um. Currently? Fourteen."
"'Currently'?"
"I had more in junior high. Some of them got... damaged."
He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. The slight flinch in his expression said enough.
Melissa crouched down and ran her fingers along the spines of the notebooks. Volume 7. Volume 8. Volume 9. Each one labeled in Izuku's careful handwriting, each one filled with observations and analysis and the desperate hope of a Quirkless kid who'd refused to stop dreaming.
"You've been doing this for a long time," she said quietly.
"Since before I could write. My mom helped me with the first one."
Rody set the bobblehead down very carefully, as if he'd just realized it was important. "So the hero thing... Why exactly do you wanna become one?" Rody asked.
"I wanna save people with a smile. Just like all might."
"Really? You sure that's your reasoning?"
"Yeah why?" Izuku asked back.
."nothing." He said. " Just met a lot of people who say the exact same thing"
They settled into the room kinda awkwardly. Much like people who've never really had a real conversation outside of school would. Rody claimed the desk chair, spinning it around to sit backward on it. Melissa sat cross-legged on the floor near the foot of Izuku's bed, her bag of support gear parts beside her. Izuku sat on the bed, surrounded by his comics and notebooks and the lingering awareness that this was the first time anyone other than his mother had been in his room in years.
"So," Rody said, tearing open a bag of chips with more force than was strictly necessary. "What do you guys even do for fun?"
"I build things," Melissa said.
"I read hero analysis," Izuku said.
Rody stared at them. "Okay, so you're both nerds. That's fine. That's totally fine. I can work with this." He pointed a chip at Izuku. "You. What's the deal with the watch?"
Izuku's hand instinctively moved to cover his wrist. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... You've been wearing that thing since I met you, and you haven't taken it off.. like ever. Plus it ain't like any watch I've ever seen. It looks totally weird and it doesn't even tell time. What's up with that?"
Melissa looked back at him. "Yeah actually. I saw it on you when you left the hospital for the entrance exam but you never had it on before that. Plus it looks like there's a lot more mechanical stuff going on beneath the surface."
"It's just something my dad got me," Izuku said, the words coming out automatically. "Before he went overseas."
The lie settled into the room like a stone dropping into still water. It was a good lie, kinda. He'd been practicing it, and he did end up using it more times than he thought he would. A lot of people seemed to have questions about the device on his wrist so he had to make up some kinda lie.
Rody tilted his head. "Your dad's overseas?"
"Work stuff." Izuku shrugged, keeping his shoulders loose, his tone casual. "He's been gone a while."
He could feel Melissa's eyes on him. Not suspicious, exactly. More like, curious. Melissa Shield was smart. Like Scary smart. The kind of smart that noticed when things didn't quite add up. And right now, Izuku was very aware that several things about his story didn't quite add up.
A watch that didn't tell time. A father he never talked about. A device that appeared on his wrist right before the UA entrance exam and hadn't come off since.
"Yeah," he continued, filling the silence before it could stretch too long. "It's like a support item you see.. it helps me control my quirk."
"Your Quirk?" Melissa repeated, and there was something in her voice that made izuku feel the contents of his stomach coming up. It wasn't exactly the case that she was accusing him, it was more so... Interest. The kind of interest that came from someone who spent her life understanding how things worked and had just encountered something that didn't.
"Yeah," Izuku said, and the word came out steadier than he felt. "You know. Superpower. Like everyone else."
"You said you didn't have one before," she said. It wasn't a question.
Izuku would've died of a heart attack right there had he not been still tired from lack of sleep.
Rody stopped mid-chew, chip suspended halfway to his mouth. His eyes flicked between Izuku and Melissa like he was watching a tennis match where someone might suddenly produce a weapon.
"Yeah, my dad.. he gave it to me in the hospital that day. Before he left"
Melissa was looking at him with those sharp blue eyes, the ones that took things apart and figured out how they worked. He'd seen her do it with support gear, and stuff. Now she was doing it to him.
"That's..." she started, then paused, choosing her words carefully. "That's unusual."
"Yeah, well." Izuku shrugged, the gesture feeling wooden. "My dad's kind of unusual."
"You said he left right after the entrance exam?"
"The same day, actually." The words came out before he could stop them. "He was there when I woke up in the hospital, and then he just... had to go. Work stuff. Like I said."
Rody had put down his chips entirely now. "Dude, your dad shows up after how long? And then just bounces? That's cold."
"It's complicated."
"That's..." Rody started, then stopped, clearly asking himself whether finishing the sentence was worth it. "That's really cold, man."
Izuku shrugged, a gesture that was becoming increasingly automatic. "He's got important work. Stuff he can't really explain."
"Important enough to miss his kid's whole childhood?" Rody's voice had an edge to it now, not directed at Izuku but at the idea, the shape of an absent father that was clearly hitting closer to home than he'd intended. "What, is he like, secret agent or something?"
"Oh no nothing like that! " Izuku started "He's just a plumber"
"Really? A plumber going overseas? What kinda plumber is your pops?"
Melissa hadn't looked away from the Omnitrix.
She hadn't said anything since her comment about it being unusual, but Izuku could practically hear the gears turning in her head. The way the device sat on his wrist, bulkier than any watch had the right to be. The wires and machinery that decorated the outside of it.
"It helps you control your Quirk," she said, repeating his words back to him like she was making him hear how absurd they were. "So it's a regulator? A stabilizer?"
"Something like that," Izuku said again. He was relying on that phrase too much. He needed to be more specific, more convincing, but specificity meant details and details meant lies he could get caught in.
"Which is it?"
Izuku blinked. "Which is what?"
"A regulator or a stabilizer." Melissa leaned forward slightly, her engineer's curiosity clearly warring with her social instincts and winning decisively. "Because they're different things. A regulator modulates power output from spiking too high or dropping too low. A stabilizer maintains consistency, and maintains fluctuation. They may sound similar but they're not. If the device is doing both, that's impressive, but the mechanics would be completely different. Is it hardware-based or software? Does it interface directly with your Quirk factor, or is it more of an external dampener?"
The questions came rapid-fire, the same way Melissa's texts did when she was excited about something. Izuku opened his mouth to answer and realized he had absolutely no idea what to say.
"I... Don't know okay. I don't really know mechanics like you do so I couldn't say... Can we just move on? You guys didn't come all this way just to ask me a few questions right?"
Izuku's deflection landed with the grace of a brick through a window.
There was a beat of silence. Rody looked at Melissa. Melissa looked at Izuku. Izuku looked at the All Might poster on his wall and wished, very briefly, that it would come to life and rescue him from this conversation the way All Might had rescued him from the Sludge Villain.
Then Rody shrugged, the tension in his shoulders evaporating like it had never been there.
"Fair enough," he said, and grabbed another chip. "You're right. We didn't come here to interrogate you." He paused, chip halfway to his mouth. "Well, I didn't. Can't speak for Miss Twenty Questions over here."
Melissa's cheeks flushed slightly. "I wasn't interrogating. I was just... asking." She looked at Izuku, and her expression shifted from analytical to apologetic. "Sorry. Force of habit. When I see something I don't understand, I kind of... can't stop thinking about it."
"It's okay," Izuku said, and was surprised to find that he meant it. He knew that feeling. He'd filled fourteen notebooks with it. "I get it."
"Still." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Boundaries. I've been told I need to work on those."
"Same," Rody said through a mouthful of chips. "I definitely wasn't told that, but I probably need to work on them. You gonna finish those?" He gestured vaguely at the bag Melissa had brought.
Melissa blinked. "These aren't snacks. These are support gear prototypes."
"Same difference. Can I eat them?"
"No."
"Then I'm less interested." He turned back to Izuku. "So, for real though. What do you guys actually do when you're not doing school stuff? Because since coming here my only hobbies have been avoiding Nezu and figuring out how Japanese convenience stores work, and I don't mean to be close minded but... I can't do either of those in here."
The shift in topic was so smooth, so deliberate, that Izuku almost missed it. Rody had seen him panicking and had thrown him a rope. No fanfare. No knowing look. Just a question about hobbies like the previous thirty seconds hadn't happened.
Izuku filed that away for later. Rody Soul, he was beginning to understand, was a lot sharper than he let on.
"I don't really have hobbies," Izuku admitted. "Unless you count hero analysis. Which is basically just... more school stuff."
"That's depressing," Rody said.
"I watch hero fights online sometimes. And I read."
"Also depressing."
"What do you do for fun, then?"
"Umm... Classified. Plus it's not like you guys can do that stuff anyway" the two gave him strange looks but he was quick to defend himself. "What? Everything I do is family friendly."
They spent the next hour doing nothing in particular.
Rody demolished two bags of chips and most of the green soda, which did in fact turn out to be melon-flavored. He told them about Otheon, about his siblings, about the bunch of places where he lived and moved to. Though izuku and Melissa could tell he wasn't telling them the full story.
Melissa talked about I-Island, about growing up in her father's lab, about the first support item she'd ever built. a pair of self-heating gloves for her mother, who had always complained about cold hands during the winter.
Izuku, for his part, showed them some of his older notebooks. The earliest ones were crude, filled with crayon drawings and observations written in a child's wobbly handwriting. But even then, it was pretty easy to tell that midoriya wrote this
"You've been doing this since you were, what, four?" Rody asked, flipping through Hero Analysis for the Future #3.
"Five. That one's mostly about my mom's Quirk. She can pull small objects toward her." Izuku pointed to a crayon diagram. "I spent three weeks trying to figure out the exact weight limit."
"Did you?"
"About two and a half kilograms. Anything heavier than that, she can't move it."
Rody looked at the crayon diagram, then at Izuku, then back at the crayon diagram. "You were a weird kid."
"Yeah," Izuku said, without any defensiveness. "I know."
"The cool kind of weird," Melissa said. "Don't you know? Weird kids change the world."
Izuku wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't. But he tucked the words away somewhere safe, next to "I AM HERE" and "Plus Ultra" and all the other phrases that had become anchors.
At some point, Inko brought them actual snacks, rice crackers and sliced fruit and a pitcher of barley tea that she'd chilled specifically because "it's good for conversation." She lingered just long enough to confirm that everyone was getting along, then retreated to the living room with the satisfied air of a mother whose son had finally, against all odds, made friends.
The afternoon light shifted from bright gold to soft amber as the sun tracked across the sky outside Izuku's window. His room felt different now, fuller, somehow. Not just because there were three people in a space designed for one, but because the silence that had been so oppressive that morning had been replaced by something else. Laughter. Conversation. The sound of Rody trying and failing to explain the plot of a movie he'd seen once and mostly forgotten.
"This guy, he's got this mask, right? And he's like, 'I'm gonna do crimes,' but then the other guy shows up and he's like, 'No crimes,' and then there's a car chase-"
"That's every movie these days," Melissa said.
"No, no, this one's different because the car turns into a submarine halfway through."
"That's still a lot of movies."
"Look, I don't remember the details, but the ending was really good. They blow up a volcano."
Izuku, just smiled and let the conversation wash over him. He had absolutely no clue what rodey was talking about because he zoned out for a good while.
Friends, he thought. I have friends. -
Eventually, the afternoon began its slow decline toward evening. Rody checked his phone and made a face. "Nezu's summoning me. Apparently there's some security briefing he wants me to sit in on."
"On a day off?" Melissa asked.
"Nezu doesn't believe in days off." Rody stood up and stretched, his spine cracking audibly. "It's been real, guys. We should do this again sometime."
"Yeah," Izuku said, and was surprised to realize he meant it. "Definitely."
Rody grabbed his remaining snacks, of which there were very few, and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, looking back at the room with an expression Izuku couldn't quite read.
"Hey, Midoriya?"
"Yeah?"
"That stuff you said before... About your dad. I get that you're a nice guy and all, but just because he's your dad doesn't mean you have to forgive him for not doing his real job"
He was gone before Izuku could formulate a response.
Melissa started packing up her tools and the gauntlet, which Izuku had reluctantly handed back after she'd promised he could test it once the calibration was finished. "I should probably go too. Dad's going to be wondering where I've been all day."
"Is he still worried about you being at UA?"
"Always." She tucked the gauntlet into her bag. "But I think he's starting to understand. He even helped me with the secondary array."
"That's great"
"It is." She zipped her bag closed. "He was... proud, I think. That I was building something on my own. Something that wasn't just for class... I don't really think he knows what I'm building it for"
Izuku walked her to the front door, where Inko waved goodbye with the enthusiasm of someone who had already decided Melissa was welcome back anytime. The hallway outside the apartment was quiet. The afternoon light through the window at the end of the corridor was soft and golden.
"Thank you," Izuku said. "For coming over. For..." He gestured vaguely, encompassing the whole afternoon. "This."
"Thank you," Melissa said. "For what you said. About the dream. I know you were just trying to be encouraging, but it..." She paused, searching for the right words. "It really helped Me out more than you could know. You're like.. my hero now."
Izuku's throat was tight. "I'm glad."
"Me too." She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "I'll have the gauntlet ready soon. Then I can show it off. And I mean really show it off."
"I'm looking forward to it."
She smiled, and it was that same bright, unguarded smile, the one that made his chest do complicated things he was absolutely not going to examine right now.
"Get some rest, Ben. You earned it." She said, entwining her fingers with his before removing her hand
The door closed behind her, and Izuku stood in the hallway for a long moment, listening to her footsteps recede down the stairs.
When he finally went back inside, his mother was in the kitchen, humming to herself while she washed the snack plates. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The look she gave him as he passed said everything, she was happy for him, and she was proud, and she would absolutely be asking him about Melissa later.
He went back to his room and sat on his bed, surrounded by All Might posters and hero analysis notebooks and the lingering warmth of an afternoon that had been, against all odds, exactly what he needed.
His phone buzzed.
Rody: made it back
Rody: nezu says hi
Rody: that rat apparently wants to talk to me about something important.
You: He's not a rat.
Rody: keep telling yourself that
Another buzz, from a different conversation.
Melissa: home safe
Melissa: dad says hi
Melissa: also he wants to know if you have any dietary restrictions for next time
You:?
Melissa: he wants you guys to come here next time.
Izuku stared at his phone. Next time. There was going to be a next time.
He typed out a response, then deleted it. Typed again. Deleted again. Finally settled on something simple.
You: No dietary restrictions. Tell your dad thank you. And... thanks for coming over today. It really meant a lot.
Melissa: of course
Melissa: that's what friends do
Melissa: goodnight Ben
He put his phone on his nightstand and lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The crack was still there. It was still small. It still ran from the corner near the window to the edge of the light fixture. But somehow, it didn't feel like something worth staring at anymore.
Friends.
He had friends.
And tomorrow, he'd... Probably be stuck in his house all day again in all honesty
A couple hours later Izuku lay still, one hand resting on his phone, the other at his side, the Omnitrix cool against his wrist. The warmth of the afternoon still lingered in his room—the ghost of laughter, of conversation, of Melissa's smile and Rody's terrible movie summaries and his mother's barely concealed delight at the presence of actual, real-life friends in her son's bedroom.
He was still processing the concept. Friends. Plural. People who texted him and came over and brought snacks and built him support gear and said things like "that's what friends do" as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
His gaze drifted toward the window.
The sun had nearly finished its descent, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The fire escape outside his window was silhouetted against the dying light, a death trap of dark metal that he'd climbed exactly once as a child and never again after his mother had nearly fainted at the sight of him on the third-floor railing.
Though it wasn't the fire escape he was looking at. Instead he was looking at the thing standing on it
The being was humanoid. Yellow. Its body was rail thin yet also kinda bulky at the same time. It had one vertical green eye that was staring straight at him and it looked like it's brain was sticking out.
The man's? Woman's? Person's? gaze was fixed on Izuku with an intensity that made his blood run cold.
He didn't forget it Just because of everything that happened in the past week. This was one of those people who cornered him and Melissa in an alley and were targeting him
And now one of them was standing on his fire escape. Staring into his room.
Izuku didn't move. He simply stated back
His hand, the one resting on his chest, inched toward the watch. His fingers brushed the dial, ready to slam it on a moments notice
The person knew he was staring back at it, it could probably tell that he was totally out of it. But they didn't attack. They didn't run away. They didn't speak at all. They just stood there, tilting it's head as if examining him or something.
Then, without a sound, it turned. It turned its back to him, and climbed the fire escape. Disappearing towards the roof and leaving izuku with his second almost heart attack for the day.
Izuku didn't move for a long time.
His heart was pounding. His hand was still hovering over the Omnitrix, fingers trembling as if the person was still in front of him but they weren't.
The fire escape was empty.
The sky was beautiful, streaked with the last light of the sun. Somewhere in the distance, a car passed. A dog barked. The ordinary sounds of evening in Musutafu continued without interruption, oblivious to the fact that something had been watching him.
He grabbed his phone.
His hands were shaking badly enough that he had to type the message three times before it came out right.
You: There was something outside my window.
He sent it to Aizawa. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added:
You: One of the people from the alley.
The response came faster than he expected. Aizawa must have had his phone on him, for once.
Aizawa: Are you safe right now?
You: Yes. It left. It just... stared at me and then left.
A long pause. The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Aizawa: Don't leave the apartment. I'm sending someone to check the perimeter.
Another pause.
Aizawa: You did the right thing not engaging, who knows what could've happened
Izuku stared at the message. He didn't feel like he'd done the right thing. He felt like he'd frozen. Like he'd sat there helpless while someone that had tried to kill him watched him through his own bedroom window.
You: Why were they just watching me?
Aizawa didn't respond immediately. When he did, the message was shorter.
Aizawa: How am I supposed to know? That's what we're gonna find out
Izuku put the phone down.
He looked back at the window. The fire escape was still empty. The sky was still beautiful. Everything was exactly as it had been thirty seconds ago, except that it wasn't. It couldn't be. Because now he knew. had known, really, since the alley, since Aizawa had told him he was on someone's hit list, but knowing in the abstract and seeing it through your own bedroom window were two very different things.
They knew where he lived.
he started rethinking everything that had happened today. Had they been watching him all day? Surely not right? The window was open so they would've noticed.
Was it just this night? Or were there other times they were watching him. He didn't look through his window that much so he didn't think about it... But what if they'd known all along?
He didn't sleep at all that night.
Every shadow on the wall was a person. Every creak of the building settling was a footstep on the fire escape. He lay in bed with the Omnitrix dial turned toward the window, his finger resting on the activation trigger, and waited for something that didn't come.
Of course everyonce in a while he left to go check on his mother to make sure she was alright without really telling her what happened. He did that 5 times over the course of the night, and every single time she was totally fine.
The person never returned.
But Izuku had the sinking feeling that they would be back.
The next morning, Izuku looked out to find a UA staff member stationed in an unmarked car across the street from his apartment building. He only noticed because he'd spent twenty minutes staring out the window, cataloguing every detail of the street below with the paranoid intensity of someone who no longer trusted that his home was safe.
The car was parked between a convenience store and a laundromat, positioned to have a clear view of the apartment's entrance and the fire escape. The person in the driver's seat was too far away to identify, but Izuku recognized the silhouette of a hero costume. Underground, probably. He doubted Aizawa's would send someone flashy for this.
He didn't know whether to feel reassured or terrified.
He settled on both.
His phone buzzed. A message from Aizawa, sent at 5:47 AM, which meant the man had either woken up very early or hadn't slept at all.
Aizawa: Patrol outside your building. They'll be there until further notice. Report anything unusual.
You: Thank you. For last night.
Aizawa: Don't thank me yet. We still don't know what we're dealing with.
Another pause. Then.
Aizawa: Training resumes tomorrow. Gym Gamma. 6 AM. Don't be late.
Izuku stared at the message. It wasn't that he didn't want the training. It wasn't even that he believed it was unnecessary or anything. But... To go immediately back to training after an experience like that.
He typed his response carefully.
You: I'll be there.
The day passed slowly.
His mother had been told about the "increased security measures," which was Aizawa's polite way of saying "there is now a pro hero watching your apartment at all times." She'd handled it with the same tight-lipped composure she'd used when Izuku had come home from the police station after the USJ, which was to say she was freaking out, but was trying her best not to show it externally. Izuku knew his mom, he was well aware of her habits by now.
"It's just a precaution," he told her, for the fifth time. "Aizawa-sensei wants to make sure nothing happens while UA is closed."
"Nothing happens," she repeated. "Like what happened at that training facility?"
"Mom-"
"Izuku." Her voice was quiet but firm. "I know becoming a hero has been your dream for your whole life and I'm happy that you managed to make that a reality. But I need you to promise me that you'll be careful. That you won't do anything reckless."
"I promise I'll be careful," he said.
Inko looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded, once, and went back to making tea.
He didn't think she believed him. He wasn't sure he believed himself.
The afternoon brought messages from both Melissa and Rody, checking in, asking how he was doing. He told them about the person on the fire escape not too long after the day came. He felt that this was something they should know
Melissa: izuku what the hell
Melissa: why didn't you text me last night
Melissa: i would have come back
Melissa: or sent someone
Melissa: or done something
Melissa: you shouldn't have been alone after that
Rody: ok so
Rody: that's terrifying
Rody: but also
Rody: why didn't you call me
Rody: i've literally got Nezu on speed dial.
He read both messages multiple times. Not because he was looking for hidden meanings. Just because it felt good to read them. To know that people cared. To know that if something happened, he wouldn't be alone.
It didn't really do anything to change the fear but... It was something.
The afternoon crawled by with the sticky slowness of honey dripping off a spoon.
Izuku had tried reading. He'd tried reorganizing his notebooks again. He'd tried lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling crack and counting the seconds until tomorrow morning when he could at least train, at least do something, at least feel like he was making progress instead of sitting in his room waiting for the next attack.
None of it worked.
His phone sat on his nightstand, the messages from Melissa and Royd still glowing faintly on the screen. He'd read them so many times he'd memorized the wording.
It helped. It did. But it didn't change the fact that there was a person out there, person's, plural actually, that knew where he lived. That had stood on his fire escape and watched him through the window like he was a specimen in a jar. And it didn't help that he didn't know how long these people had been watching him either.
His eyes drifted to the Omnitrix. Ten different uniquely gifted forms each with their own skills suited for combat.
But as he learned during his training with aizawa, combat wasn't the only thing they were good for.
He sat up slowly, an idea forming in the back of his mind. It wasn't a good idea. It was, in fact, probably a very bad idea. Aizawa had explicitly told him not to engage. The hero downstairs was there specifically so he wouldn't have to do anything reckless.
But the creature had been on his fire escape. On his fire escape. Outside his window. Watching him while he lay in bed thinking about how nice it was to finally have friends.
And there was one form he hadn't used much, one that would let him sneak around undetected and patrol the building and this was literally the perfect opportunity to use it. So he wasn't not gonna take it
"Just a quick search," he muttered to himself. "Just to make sure there's nothing else out there. I won't even leave the building."
He slapped down on the watch
It was a chameleon like transformation.
He hadn't used this form much. It wasn't built for the kind of direct combat Aizawa had been drilling into him. But for reconnaissance? This was exactly what it was for.
He moved to the window, ready to scale the building and check. But then he stopped himself. Going outside would be stupid. The hero in the car across the street might not be able to see him, but if something went wrong, he'd be on his own. Better to start inside. Check the building first. Make sure the person hadn't snuck inside or anything
He slipped out of his bedroom door instead, invisible and silent.
The apartment building had three floors, plus a basement that was mostly used for storage and the occasional laundry emergency. Izuku had lived here his entire life, and he knew every part of the building by heart. Every creaky floorboard, every resident.
Mrs. Tanaka in 1A, who was well known for always 'accidentaly' making too much food and handing the leftovers out to the apartments residents
Mr. Yoshida in 2B, he was kind of a mystery. He slept in the day and went to work at night, he was always grumpy and irritable.
The young couple in 3C, who had just moved in last month and whose baby apparently had a quirk that could cut cause blackouts... He learned that the exact way you'd expect.
All of these people seemed to be okay.. it didn't look like anyone had gotten into their apartments.
He moved through the hallway on the third floor, his tail brushing against the wall for balance, his three eyes tracking every detail. The carpet was worn. Everything was exactly as it should be.
Except for the door at the end of the hall.
Apartment 3D. Mr. Nishimura's place. He was a retired accountant, widowed, kept to himself mostly but always nodded politely when they passed in the hallway. He had a small dog, a shiba inu named Mochi, that he walked twice a day. Izuku had seen him yesterday morning, coming back from the convenience store with a bag of groceries and a newspaper tucked under his arm.
The door to 3D was open.
That never happened. The only time his door was ever open was when he was in the doorway.
Which is why izuku froze.
The hero downstairs. He should go get the hero downstairs. That was the smart thing to do. That was what Aizawa would tell him to do.
But the door was open. And that meant there was a good chance Mr nishimura was in some kind of danger
He moved closer, every instinct from a week of Aizawa's training screaming at him that this was a bad idea. This was exactly how aizawa took him down in training sessions 3 and 6, by letting izukus curiosity get the best of him.
He reached the door. Peered through the crack.
The apartment was dark. The curtains were drawn. The small dog, Mochi, was nowhere to be seen. And Mr. Nishimura.. well. Mr. Nishimura was standing in the middle of his living room, facing away from the door. Standing perfectly still. Not moving. Not breathing from what Izuku could see.
Something was wrong.
Something was very, very wrong.
Izuku pushed the door open a little further, just enough to slip inside. The hinges didn't creak. He was grateful for that. The apartment smelled strange. Sure there was the typical scent that wafted out of his room whenever he walked by. That typical old people smell. But he also smelled something else. Like something was rotting.
"Mr. Nishimura?" he whispered, forgetting for a moment that he was invisible, that he wasn't supposed to be here, that this was a bad idea and he should leave.
Mr nishimura turned. This frightened izuku who thought he had heard him. But that was most likely not the case
As the man started walking towards the door, izuku noticed something in the man's hand... What.. was that... Was that a knife? No, even more than that. The knife was covered in blood. And it looked like it had been covered in blood for at least a full day.
Had... Had mr nishimura done something terrible? Was he working with those people maybe?
The man walked past him, towards the door. He had assumed to go let in the other one or something... But then he stopped, directly beside him
This confused izuku. Why had he stopped? Was he thinking hard about something? Then the man looked directly at him
Izuku didn't have time to think. The knife came down in a vicious arc aimed at his throat, and he twisted sideways, letting it whistle past his ear. The man's momentum carried it forward, and Izuku's tail lashed out instinctively, catching it across the ankles and sending it stumbling into the hallway.
How did he know he was there?
It recovered instantly. Of course it did. They always recovered instantly.
"You brat," he hissed, and the words meant nothing to Izuku, but the hatred behind them was unmistakable.
It came at him again, knife flashing, and this time Izuku was ready.
He dropped the invisibility mid-dodge, no point hiding from someone that could already see him, and his body flickered back into visibility, the reptilian form of Chamalien crouched low in the dim hallway. The man's knife hand came down, and Izuku caught it at the wrist, his longer fingers wrapping around the man's arm with a strong grip.
"What are you doing? Mr nishimura, how could you do something so vile!"
The man didn't answer. He just twisted, joint bending in a direction joints weren't supposed to bend, and tried to stab him again.
Izuku didn't let it.
He drove his knee into its midsection and when it doubled over, he brought his elbow down on the back of its head. The man hit the hallway carpet with a thud that shook the floorboards.
He didn't get up.
Izuku stood over him, breathing hard, his tail lashing behind him. The knife had clattered away and was lying near the stairs.
The man's body changed into the same as that if the guy who had been watching him
"What the-"
Then the door to the stairwell burst open, and the hero from the car downstairs came through it with the coiled intensity of someone who had been trained to respond to exactly this kind of situation.
"Freeze! Don't-" The hero stopped. She was a woman, maybe mid-thirties, with short dark hair and goggles pushed up on her forehead. Her Quirk wasn't immediately obvious, but the way she'd moved through the door suggested enhanced speed or reflexes. She looked at Izuku, at the lizard-like form with the tail and the Omnitrix symbol on its chest, and then at the creature on the floor.
"You're the kid," she said. "The one Aizawa told me about."
"Um. Yes." Izuku's voice came out slightly different in this form—softer, raspier, but still recognizably his. ", was just, there was something on my fire escape last night, and I thought maybe I should check-"
"You thought maybe you should check." The hero's voice was flat. "Aizawa told you not to engage. He told me you'd been told not to engage. And you thought maybe you should check."
"...In my defense, I found something."
The hero stared at him for a long moment. Then she exhaled through her nose not quite a sigh, but close, and pulled out her phone. "I'm calling this in. Don't touch anything."
The next hour was a blur of activity.
More heroes arrived. Then the police. Then a forensics team that took samples of the man's clothing and the knife and something from underneath his fingernails that Izuku didn't want to think about. The person themselves was restrained with Quirk-suppressing cuffs.
And in the middle of all of it, Izuku, back in his human form, the Omnitrix recharging after the transformation,sat on the stairs and answered questions.
"How did you know it was here?"
"I didn't. I was just looking. My neighbor, Mr. Nishimura. he wasn't acting like himself yesterday. I didn't really think about it until this morning, but something seemed off."
"Off how?"
"His posture. The way he walked. He's seventy-three years old and he has a bad hip, but yesterday he was moving like... I don't know someone with a perfectly fine and normal hip." Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't put it together until I saw him standing in the apartment. And after I saw the face."
"The face?"
The forensics team had made the discovery about ten minutes after the man was restrained. One of them had called the hero over, and she'd knelt down beside the body with an expression that shifted rapidly from professional detachment to something much more disturbed.
"They were wearing a mask," she'd said. "Some kind of, I don't know what this is. It's not some kinda quirk or anything..."
"It's technology," the forensics tech had supplied. "Specifically bio tech. The mask is fused to the underlying tissue. We're going to need to take it back to the lab to figure out how to remove it without damaging, without damaging whatever's underneath."
"Don't say 'whatever's underneath.' It's a person. Probably." The hero had looked at Izuku then, and her expression had been hard to read. "The neighbor. Mr. Nishimura. Do you know where he might be?"
Izuku had shaken his head. "I... Think I know what happened to him... And.. I don't think he's with us anymore"
Now, sitting on the stairs as the forensics team finished their work and the person wearing Mr. Nishimura's face, was loaded onto a stretcher and carried out of the building, Izuku tried to process what he'd learned.
The people could disguise themselves as people. Not just disguise, replace. They could look like anyone. Sound like anyone. Move through the world wearing someone else's face while the real person was...
The hero. her name was Kageyama, she'd told him eventually, and her Quirk let her move through shadows, sat down on the step beside him. She looked tired. Not the insomniac tiredness that Aizawa wore like a badge of honor, but genuine exhaustion, the kind that came from a job that never really ended.
"You did good," she said.
Izuku blinked. "What?"
"Finding the person. Identifying the anomaly. Taking it down without civilian casualties or property damage." She ticked the points off on her fingers. "That's good work. Aizawa's been training you well."
"But I wasn't supposed to-"
"No. You weren't." She looked at him. "And if you'd gotten yourself killed, I'd be having a very different conversation with you right now. But you didn't. And because you didn't, we found one of these things. We know they can disguise themselves as civilians. We know they're operating in residential areas. We know they're watching you specifically." She paused. "That's valuable intelligence. The kind we wouldn't have gotten if you'd stayed in your room."
Izuku didn't know what to say to that.
"... Aizawa told me to say most of that," Kageyama added. "To be honest"
"I figured."
"Though you're probably still going to get an earful."
"I know."
She stood up, brushing off her costume. "Get some rest, kid. And maybe don't go invisible and investigate things on your own for a while. That's what we're here for."
"Right." Izuku nodded. "I'll... try."
Kageyama gave him a look that suggested she didn't entirely believe him. Then she walked away to supervise the last of the evidence collection.
The apartment felt different after everyone left.
Not because anything had changed physically. The carpet was still worn. The light fixture was still flickering. His room was still exactly as he'd left it, All Might posters and hero analysis notebooks and the lingering warmth of an afternoon with friends.
But now there was a new awareness. A new caution. The knowledge that the walls that had kept him safe for fifteen years weren't as solid as he'd thought.
He sat on his bed and looked at the Omnitrix.
Ten different ways to protect himself and everyone around him. He was sure he could protect himself. Could probably even take on a good amount of them on his own didn't mean he wasn't scared but still... But his mom.. Melisss... Rody. None of them could defend themselves like he could.
What would happen if they started targeting them to get to him?
Actually, there wasn't much left to the imagination when it came to what would happen... and that was even more terrifying than not knowing.