Chapter 57: Getting Started
The blindfold is completely soaked in sweat. It sticks to his brow and cheeks and refuses to peel away from his eyes. The knot behind his head is tight and secure but is slightly uncomfortable. Just like the rest of the cloth. It makes it hard to concentrate, which is pretty important right now because he's trying not to die.
Something hard and cold slams into the side of his head, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing into the hard floor below. "Duck, you moron! Good grief, you coulda figured out where it was going without that fancy Quirk!"
Okay, avoiding death is a slight exaggeration. Avoiding injury and ridicule, however, is still a top priority.
Izuku dives to one side and kicks off the floor. He twists in the air, straining his ears to hear projectiles whistling through the air. There aren't any. He reaches for Danger Sense, picturing a shield around him. In doing so, his focus is broken for just a split second. It's just enough time for him to miss six of them shoot at once, and he takes four of them head-on. The other two whistle past his head, and Izuku begrudgingly admits defeat, floating down to the floor. He takes off the blindfold.
"Why couldn't we have started slower?" Izuku asks, wringing the blindfold out. Sweat drips onto the floor in a gross puddle, and Izuku curses whoever cranked the heat up. "I'm dying out there."
"I am a firm believer in sink or swim teaching," Gran says, kicking one of the (metal, which is awful) balls with his foot. It rolls a few feet before stopping. "And battle is chaotic. If you're going to be using a power like that, it'll be even worse. You need to get used to lots of different threats being present at once."
"Yeah, but it takes a second to turn on," Izuku says, walking over to his water bottle and picking it up. "There's a lag, and it's also tiring to keep on, so I have to turn it off eventually to catch a break." He takes a drink.
"Don't fry your head," Gran warns. "If you start to feel off, take a breather. But it shouldn't be doing this if you're just focusing on yourself, yeah?"
Izuku shrugs as he sets his water down. "One for All is stronger and harder to keep a handle on now than it was decades ago. Blackwhip is, too. So is Float. Danger Sense is probably the same. I just need to get used to holding it and using the right amount."
"You are only covering a single floor," Gran says, walking over to one of the machines they rented from U.A and flicking the switch off and on again. "It's not like how it was on the street. Don't let it sense the area outside of this room. It's good practice for control."
"It'd be better if I could work up to that," Izuku says. "We should be doing this in a small room with one machine first. Then I'd really get a feel for how much to use in different areas."
"Remind me again of who told me that he lives by the Plus Ultra motto?" Gran asks. Izuku stares at him for a moment.
"I feel that phrase has backfired more than it's helped," Izuku says, bringing the blindfold back up to his eyes in submission to Gran's tactics.
"That's because it has. And don't put that thing on until you've loaded the launchers." Gran kicks another ball to prove his point.
Izuku sighs and holds out a hand to let Blackwhip do the work. As he does, Gran excuses himself and walks downstairs. Once he's done loading the machines, Izuku fiddles with the blindfold for a moment, patting his pocket out of habit. He's been texting Nejire more and more recently. It's nice, but it's had the weird effect of making him miss his phone more than usual.
"Put these on."
A pair of heavy-duty earmuffs hit Izuku in the face. He catches them before they hit the floor and gives them a shake. "How old are these?" he asks, because they're absolutely ancient-looking.
"That company went bankrupt three decades ago," Gran says. "That's how old. And they still work good because companies didn't go for all of that planned obsolescence shit back then like they do nowadays."
"If you say so," Izuku says, slipping the earmuffs over his head. They're surprisingly comfy and snug, considering that their exterior is all old and worn out. "Do you think they'll stay on? Woah!" Izuku reaches up and touches the ear cups, because he can barely hear his own voice. He looks at Gran and sees him saying something. But not a sound comes through the muffs. Izuku points to his head, shrugs, and slips the blindfold on. He prepares to activate Danger Sense, but before he does, a ball slams into his ribs.
Izuku swears and flails his arms in front of him, trying to block any other shots that might be coming. He rips off the blindfold and the earmuffs and looks at Gran in a mix of shock and anger. "I wasn't ready!"
Gran raises an eyebrow. "Evil doesn't wait until you're ready, so neither will I."
"It's no wonder why All Might's so dramatic," Izuku mumbles.
"What was that?"
"Nothing! Just give me a second and we can go!"
Izuku ignores Gran's snort of amusement and slips the earmuffs back on. He waits to tie the blindfold, however, choosing to turn One for All on first and get halfway done with tapping into Danger Sense before doing the knot. By the time the black cloth is secure over his eyes, Izuku is in tune with the danger around him. He feels the machine directly behind him and leaps into the air. The Quirk tells him that he's in danger of hitting the ceiling, so Izuku spins mid-air and lands on it with balled feet and bent knees. The hairs on his arms stand on end, and Izuku pushes off in time to dodge a few balls.
The air parts around him as he moves, though it lacks the familiar whoosh and eye-drying wind. Izuku tucks into a roll and pops back up, backflipping over another ball and landing on the palms of his hands. He arches his back, weaving out of the way of two more before allowing himself to fall back onto his feet. Braced for impact, he waits for the next launch.
Izuku knows what's going to happen moments before it does. It's almost like he can see it in his mind's eye, the future unraveling before him. But it's not quite there. It's a feeling, an instinct. Like when he practices fighting in unsteady buildings at school. On the surface, everything is normal. But in his gut, he knows that something will happen soon. It's just a matter of when and what. With Danger Sense, however, the when and what are handed to him on a silver platter.
Izuku roundhouse kicks a ball away, catching another in his right hand and deflecting two more. He hits the ground, sliding under a volley of five. There's a machine right in front of him, ready to let everything it has rip. Izuku keeps moving forward, playing a game of chicken. He feels the moment before it fires, and spins out of the way. He also feels when Gran turns the difficulty up on all of the launchers.
Three shoot at once, one where he is and one to either side of him. Izuku jumps, clearing all of the projectiles and preparing for more evasive actions. One strand of Blackwhip pulls him into a corner which he quickly kicks out of. He bounces off the floor and to another wall, starting a string of ricochets. The goal is to make it hard for the machines to properly predict his patterns of movement. It's technically against the spirit of the exercise, but the balls start coming faster and faster, and in greater numbers. If Izuku were to be reactive instead of proactive, he'd get overwhelmed in an instant.
And even now, it's a close thing. He feels the balls brush past his hair. His lighting reaches out and crackles against the metal projectiles, creating an electric connection that stings his skin and occupies his mind. He starts to lose his feel for the room. He nearly crashes into a column and has to spin to avoid a protrusion of concrete. His dashes become more and more simple as he abandons complexity for speed. Instead of trying to plan out his moves, he's forced to make split-second decisions. For all he wanted to avoid reacting to the balls, the machines are trying to force his hand with more effort and success than he can manage.
With a roll, Izuku lands on the ground again. He jumps, ducks, rolls, dives, twists around the balls. He tries to launch off again, but there are too many for him to find a clear opening. He's forced to stay in the same spot, blocking and deflecting enough balls to keep afloat for a while longer. But he can't last forever.
Once catches him in the forearm. He takes two to his chest. One particularly fast one hits him right on his only big toe. Izuku stumbles, desperately trying to regain his balance. A ball nails him right in his ribs, forcing him down. He curls into a ball, covering his head and waiting for Gran to kill the machines. It takes a moment, but eventually the launchers stop firing and the danger fades. Izuku pulls off the earmuffs and the blindfold and stands, massaging his arm.
"Not awful for the second go-around," Gran says, walking over and bringing him his water. Izuku takes it and chugs the rest of it in one go. He looks over the room once he's done and finds that a few of the balls are literally embedded in the wall.
"So there'll be another one today?" Izuku asks. "I have to be at school by seven-thirty, so you can't keep me here forever."
"I know. That's why you won't be doing the same thing." Gran picks up one of the balls and places it in the nearest machine. "It'll just be one of these. I'll be behind it with my finger near the button. Your goal is to tell if you're in danger, and how much danger you're in."
"I thought you believed in sink or swim methods," Izuku says.
"I'll be randomly pushing the button, and if I feel like it, I'll attack you."
"Ah," Izuku says, eyeing the machine with newfound caution. "I guess I should load it up again, huh."
"Unless you want me to throw out my back lifting an ass load of these, then yes. And make it snappy! You've got young bones!"
Izuku doesn't even use his bones. Instead, he has Blackwhip do all the work again before standing in front of the machine, point-blank. "Do I—"
"Turn around and put your stuff back on. Hold your arm out to the side and put up fingers as you feel more danger. If you need to dodge, dodge."
Izuku nods, getting into position. It feels wrong just standing there with a weapon aimed directly at his back, and he doesn't even need Danger Sense to tell him that there's risk in it. But when he turns the Quirk on, a weight slams into his mind. Gran's finger is on the button. Izuku holds up five fingers. Gran pushes the button and Izuku ducks, feeling the ball cause his hair to riffle. The danger disappears after that, and Izuku knows that Gran has stepped away from the machine. He holds up a fist.
They go back and forth like that for a while. Izuku gets a better feel for the reaction time of the Quirk. It's almost instant, but only when he's in immediate danger. When Gran's finger starts to push the button down, he feels it. If Gran is a few paces away from the machine, there's nothing. But as soon as he takes a step towards it, shivers go down Izuku's spine.
They finish up around six-thirty. Izuku packs everything away, says goodbye to Gran, and goes home to get ready for school. He tries not to think about the fact that his date is only twelve hours away.
[x]
It's somehow more stressful and less stressful than last time. This time, he at least knows what he should wear—something nice but also casual. But he's also burdened with the knowledge that this is an actual date and not just a casual dinner. It's enough to make him dig through his whole closet three times looking for a t-shirt he knows looks good on him and isn't one of the stupid shirt shirts or one of the derivatives of them. And when he finds it, he tries it on and finds that it's way too small. He flexes his arms and the seams literally burst.
He was tiny in middle school. It's a weird time to realize it, but it's true. Most of his clothes from just over a year ago don't fit at all. Even the baggy sweatpants are too tight in the thighs. It's good to see progress, but it's frustrating to toss out half of his clothes when he should be getting ready for a date. Which still hasn't sunken in yet. A date.
Izuku sighs as he finally finds a good shirt for the night. It's not the same v-neck as last time—if it was, his mother would probably make him change. Not that he'd be against that. But this time, he wears a snug, white long sleeve with a subtle design on the chest. His necklace hangs over the shirt, uncovered by the heavy zip-up hoodie he has on. His jeans are comfortable and his shoes are as red and shiny as ever. Most importantly, though, he's warm. It's not awfully cold, but the temperature is starting to dip low enough at night that he doesn't want to be caught outside without a jacket. He grabs a scarf as well, though it isn't needed or even for him; he can keep warm, and the color really isn't his style. But it's for Nejire, and it needs a place to stay, so on his neck it rests.
After saying goodbye to his mother, Izuku walks to the train station. As he takes a seat, something dawns on him. He's going to Nejire's house. To pick her up. For a date. With her father there. He shouldn't be nervous. He's fought villains, monsters, and made it through over half a year at U.A. He's got a license—an actual, real hero license that says he's strong enough to fight for real and save lives. And yet, he's afraid of a hypothetical conversation with Nejire's dad.
But that hypothetical becomes an inevitable when Izuku arrives at Nejire's house, knocks on the door, and comes face to face with Mr. Hado. It's not fair, really. Or maybe it is, but it doesn't feel that way. Izuku just wants to go to the fair, but now he's looking into the tired eyes of Nejire's dad.
"You're early," he says, leaning against the frame. Izuku resists the urge to take a step back.
"Better early than later, right?" Izuku says, hiding a nervous chuckle. "Uh, is Nejire ready?"
"You're early," he repeats, and yeah, that kinda answers the question. "Come in."
Izuku mutters a quick "Thank you" before stepping in. Mr. Hado shuts the door behind him and walks past into what must be the living room. Or maybe it's the den? Izuku feels like the house is big enough to have a den. Not that it's important. Izuku tries to forget about that small dilemma as he follows Mr. Hado into a different room, but it comes right back to the front of his mind.
It's definitely a den. There's a large amount of plush and expensive-looking furniture arranged around a coffee table. There's a fireplace, and, above it, a widescreen TV. A mini-fridge sits in one corner next to a shelf of wine bottles. A counter runs along one wall of the room, the top an expensive-looking marble. Izuku awkwardly stands by a leather recliner, not wanting to be the first to sit.
"Would you like a drink?" Mr. Hado asks, walking over to the wine.
"Water," Izuku says as he starts to pour a glass. "Water is just fine."
Mr. Hado grunts as he tops off his glass. He sets it down on an end table along with the bottle. He walks over to the mini-fridge and bends down to pull out a can of something. He tosses it behind his back, and Izuku reaches out to catch it. The can slips out of his hand and starts to fall to the floor. He has to cast a whip out from his pinky to save it from crashing into the ground, but he does so before Mr. Hado can turn around. Izuku tries not to let out a breath of relief.
"Nice catch," Mr. Hado says, sitting down with his drink.
"Y-yeah." Izuku takes a seat on the recliner. He sinks into the thing, the worn leather forming around his legs and back. He looks up and unintentionally locks eyes with the man across from him. Izuku coughs and carefully pulls the tab on the can of sparkling water. It lets out a hiss, and Izuku thanks whatever higher power is watching that it doesn't spray out everywhere. He raises the can to his lips and takes a sip. And almost spits it out.
"How is it?" Mr. Hado asks, taking a drink of his own.
"Good. It… it's got really good flavor." It doesn't. The stuff tastes like someone let orange juice get up to room temperature, spoil, and then let it chill in the fridge for a few weeks. It also has a lingering aftertaste, so Izuku has to sit there trying to fight against making a sour expression.
"I think so too." Mr. Hado sets his wine on the coffee table. He stares at Izuku, who forces himself to take another drink so the eye contact doesn't last. "Nice scarf."
"Thanks," Izuku says, swallowing. He silently curses himself for not taking it or his coat off. He probably looks really impolite. "I, um, I made it myself."
"Interesting," Mr. Hado says as Izuku takes another drink. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"
Izuku almost does a spit take. Almost. He's pretty sure a little bit of… of whatever is in that can leaks from his lips, so he quickly swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I, uh, er… well, we're just going to the festival or whatever, right?" Izuku says, trying to look away. But his eyes lock with Mr. Hado's and he can't look anywhere else no matter how hard he tries. The man does not look impressed. "Just a… just a quick outing for some fun!"
"You'll have her home by ten, then."
"I'll try," Izuku says without thinking. Nejire hadn't even mentioned what time they'd be going home; he just kinda figured they'd try not to be too late.
"You'll try?" Mr. Hado raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of wine.
"I mean, it's a cultural festival, right?" Izuku forces down another drink from his can. "It goes until, like, two AM. And, uh, we might do something after we leave the school grounds."
"And what might that be?"
Izuku suddenly realizes what hole he's dug for himself. "Ten PM sounds great to me," he says, desperately trying to avoid being buried both literally and figuratively. Mr. Hado doesn't look mad per se, but his perfectly neutral expression feels slightly predatory. And familiar, in some weird way. "I have weight training to do in the morning, so, uh, this'll have to be quick, I guess?"
"My daughter isn't worth rearranging your schedule for, then."
"That's not what I said!"
"Then what did you say?"
"I just want to have fun with Nejire tonight," Izuku says. "And, yeah, I like her, but I'm not going to do anything gross or weird, I swear!"
Mr. Hado blinks and takes another drink of wine. "How's school?" Izuku feels his mouth drop. Mr. Hado pretends not to notice and says, "Well? Nejire never shuts up about you. I'd like to know you better."
Izuku stares for a long while. Mr. Hado continues to act like the past two minutes didn't happen. "It's… good."
"Good." Mr. Hado finishes his drink and stands. "Try not to stay out past midnight, and keep warm. Walk her home, too."
"What?" Izuku asks as a set of footsteps starts to come downstairs on the other side of the house.
"Dad, I'm ready!" Nejire calls. Izuku can tell she's jogging through the house. "Is Izuku here ye—oh." She appears in the doorway, wearing his jacket and a snug blue tank top over jeans and combat boots. Izuku tries not to stare. He fails. Nejire raises an eyebrow. "Were you two having fun?"
"It's rude not to entertain your guests," Mr. Hado says, shrugging. "Was I supposed to let him wait outside in the cold?"
Nejire looks like she seriously wants to say yes, but she thinks better of it. "C'mon, Izuku. Let's go."
Izuku stands and downs the rest of his drink. It's awful, but he doesn't want to waste it or look bad. When he's done, he looks over to Nejire and sees that she's staring at him, wide-eyed. Izuku looks over his shoulder and then back at Mr. Hado, whose eyes seem to twinkle just a little. "Sure," he says, awkwardly tossing the empty can between his hands. "Uh… see ya?"
Mr. Hado takes the can from Izuku's hands and looks his daughter over. "Home by ten."
Nejire snorts. "It's Friday. We're heroes in training. Licensed heroes in training. We're both at the top of the UA rankings in terms of strength. I will text you where we are and when I will be heading home. I will not be out later than one AM."
"That's pushing it," Mr. Hado warns.
"Yeah, that's why I'll be back before then," Nejire says. "We'll be going now. Bye."
Izuku waves as Nejire guides him out the door, completely confused as to what just happened. Once they're out on the front porch and the door is closed, Nejire wraps him up in a hug. It's a little weird, since her boots give her a few extra centimeters, but it's still nice.
"Sorry about him," she murmurs into her scarf. "He's… he can be an ass."
"It wasn't that bad," Izuku says. "Just a little uncomfortable and a lot confusing."
"That's his MO. He probably would've asked you more questions, but I kinda told him a lot about you so he'd be more relaxed. I… I get my curiosity from him, I guess. It's not always a great thing." She pulls away and tugs on the sleeves of her (his?) jacket.
"It's not a bad thing," Izuku says. "There's nothing wrong with asking questions. How else could you know more?"
Nejire smiles. "Thanks. Wanna get walking?"
"Sure, but first—" Izuku reaches up to his neck and unravels the scarf. He hands it to Nejire. "Here."
"Oh!" Nejire feels the wool yarn with her hands. "It's really soft! Where'd you get it from?"
"I, uh, I made it," Izuku says, a little red in the face.
"Really?" Izuku nods. "That's amazing! How long did it take?" Nejire quickly starts to wrap the scarf around her but finds that she doesn't like how it fits. She shrugs her (his, Izuku has to remind himself) jacket off. "Hold this, please!"
Izuku takes the jacket and watches as Nejire ties the scarf in a simple knot and loops the extra cloth around her neck. "It took me a while to learn, and that piece was probably two or three month's work. I, uh, I had to restart a few times."
"It's still really great," Nejire says, taking back the jacket and putting it on. "Like, you picked amazing yarn for it, and the stitch size is just right for winter and fall."
"Thanks," Izuku says, admiring how good she looks in his jacket and scarf. "Do you knit?"
"My mom did," Nejire says, tactfully looking away. "Probably still does, actually, but that's not important. The train is, though! Let's get moving!"
They start to walk to the station, and Nejire takes his hand. Izuku smiles and gives it a light squeeze. She squeezes back, and he tries to hide how he smiles even wider. It's pointless since she catches how his teeth flash for just a moment before he covers his mouth with his other hand. Nejire giggles and draws herself closer to him, letting go of his hand and looping an arm around his waist. She takes the hand she was holding and guides his arm over her shoulders before leaning her head into his.
"You're warm."
"You too," Izuku says, torn between looking down at her and looking forward. He settles for looking at Nejire and nearly trips over a crack as his eyes meet hers. They both stumble forward, but Izuku regains his balance almost immediately. Nejire does too, but that doesn't stop him from tightening his hold on her.
"Let's look where we're walking, yeah?" Nejire says with a giggle. "It'd be a shame if you wound up in the hospital before we even got there."
Izuku flushes. "You say that like I'm going to get injured at the festival."
"Well, you do have a nasty habit of running into villains," Nejire points out. "I wouldn't be surprised if one decides to make an appearance right as we… right as…" She trails off.
"Right as we what?" Izuku asks.
"Nothing," Nejire says, starting to walk a little bit faster. "Let's just get to the festival and see what happens!"
The train ride is pretty quick. It's also packed with people going to the festival. Most are people Izuku's age or younger, though there are a few adults with children going as well. A few fiddle with tickets in their hands as they ride, but most seem content to chat amongst their group. Which is the other thing; no one's going alone. Everyone has at least one other person with them—usually a friend—but there's one family with three kids and two parents, and a group of five teenage boys. Said teenage boys openly gawk at Izuku, pointing fingers and whispering. One even sneaks a photo.
"You should get a pair of sunglasses," Nejire says. "Or maybe a mask. It kinda sucks that you get recognized everywhere."
"It's not that bad," Izuku says as another one of the boys takes a picture with the flash on. "Most of the time." He looks away from them and flicks up the hood of his jacket. Nejire draws her scarf up higher over her face to hide from the nose down. The rest of the ride passes without incident.
When they get there, Izuku has to stop for a moment. The middle school is massive. Like, it could fit two or three of his middle schools inside of it—and Aldara isn't exactly a small school. There are two separate buildings, each with four floors and skywalks between them. Trees strung up with lights decorate the inside, and the gates are used as screens for projections. Oh, and there are gates. As in walls around the school, security watching over a wrought-iron gate.
"It's a little extra," Nejire says, guiding Izuku through the crowd of people trying to push to the front of the line. She gradually makes her way over to the side of the crowd where there are fewer people. "The people here are usually alright, and this is always a really great event. I remember acting in a play when I was a second year and then serving pizza in one of the stands a half-hour later, still in costume."
"The students work everything, right?" Izuku asks. "It's all put on by them as a way to show that the school is worth donating to."
"Yep," Nejire says, cutting in line. The person taking tickets looks at her weirdly, but she flashes a card and they wave both her and Izuku in. The gates open into a large, open courtyard lined with stands and decorations, completely full of people. "Graduates get in free—I get a plus one because I got into UA. Everyone else has to pay to get in, but besides that, everything is technically free. They do have freewill donations, though. You could pay five yen for an ice cream, if you want, or buy a hat for five thousand."
"Ah. Well, I'm glad I brought a good amount of money," Izuku says. "I'd hate to steal from the students."
"Oh, they don't get a lick of the cash," Nejire chuckles. "They get extra credit and volunteer hours, but all the money goes right into the school."
Izuku nods and looks over to see a massive bronze statue of what's clearly the school's founder. "I don't think the school needs it."
"They definitely don't, so be like me and don't fork over a penny." Nejire points to a sign marked Games."Let's start there! I'm not hungry yet and I wanna work up an appetite. The food here is always to die for!"
The games section of the festival is probably the largest. There are a lot of classic American fair-style stalls which Izuku only recognizes because All Might explained them to him a while back. Darts, ring toss, grip strength testers, and even an obstacle course take up a lot of the space. There's also an arm-wrestling booth with a rather large boy with a wolf mutation behind it, and a kid guessing ages. But Nejire doesn't stop at those. Instead, she takes Izuku all the way to a rickety-looking tower with a bell on top of it.
The line for the game is long. At the front of it, Izuku can see people swinging a hammer down onto a platform, causing something to slide up the pole towards the bell. No one ever gets the bell to ring. But Nejire is practically vibrating with excitement.
"That thing's older than my dad, and no one's ever won it," she explains. "There's prizes for getting past certain points, but the big one is for actually ringing the bell."
"The big one?" Izuku asks.
"The big one," Nejire says, pointing to a life-sized plushie of All Might that looks like it's seen better days. Izuku's not sure if he wants it in his room or in a museum.
"How hard is it?" Izuku asks, mostly out of curiosity. It's a little sad to admit, but if no one's won in forty years, then he definitely can't. Not with natural strength, anyway.
"Depends," Nejire says with a devious smile. "How hard are you willing to try?"
Izuku lets her have the first turn when they get to the front. The middle schooler running the game hands her a comically large mallet and tells her that she has one swing. Nejire raises the thing above her head, jumps, and brings it down on the target. Izuku can tell that she put real force into the swing, enough to break a bone, even. But even then, the slider only makes it a third of the way to the bell.
"Oh, Izuku!" Nejire calls, letting the mallet rest on the ground. She points to it and bats her eyelashes in an overly flirty manner. "Have a go at it for me!"
Izuku, torn between laughing and flushing, walks into the area and picks up the hammer. He looks to the clerk. "One swing, right?"
The boy smirks. "You can have two since your girl's right here. It'll be funny to watch you embarrass yourself twice."
"She's not my—"
Nejire cuts him off by grabbing his arm and standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Use your Quirk."
"That's against the rules."
"Show me where. They only say you get one swing, and you're even getting two!"
Izuku chews his lips in thought. "It goes against the spirit of the game."
"This school only lets in rich kids that come from good families and fills half their classrooms with teachers," Nejire says. Izuku doesn't really see a problem with that, until, "They fudge test results so the people they don't like can't get in. Even if the family can pay."
Izuku nods and hefts the hammer. "A little."
Nejire pecks him on the cheek. "A lot."
She pulls away and a few people in line laugh at him. They tell him not to mess up, and one even wolf-whistles. Izuku looks from the game to Nejire.
"Plus Ultra," she says.
Izuku knocks the bell off the tower and carries the All Might plushie over his head to the next game. Nejire laughs like mad and grabs the legs so she can help carry it too. They get lots of weird looks, and the people in line at the next game glare at them for the way it takes up way too much space. They wind up on a bench a few meters away from a calamari stand.
"I didn't think that through."
"Nope."
"It was fun, though."
"Definitely."
"I don't want to take that thing home."
"Neither do I."
Nejire hums and looks around. Something catches her eye and she stands, pulling the plushie up with her. "I have a plan!"
Izuku follows her towards a small fountain where a family of three sits. Nejire politely asks the mother to take their picture and even offers to let the kid pose with the plushie. The mother accepts, and the other mother offers up her phone. Izuku and Nejire pose with All Might and let the kid pretend that he's standing next to the real All Might. Once all the pictures have been taken, Nejire blindsides everyone.
"Alright, thanks a lot, you guys! Anyways, you can have All Might if you want!"
Izuku watches as the kid's face perks up in joy, and the mothers look at Nejire with abject horror. "Really?" the kid asks. "I can keep him?"
"Ask your parents first," Nejire says, and the kid whirls around to look at his mothers. Izuku can't see, but he just knows he's looking up with watery doe-eyes. "Please?"
Izuku and Nejire walk away All Might-less. The family seems happy, though one of the moms looks like she's having a breakdown trying to figure out how the hell they're going to take the thing back home.
"That was evil," Izuku says. He feels Nejire's hand brush up against his, and he takes it.
"What? Nooo. That was perfectly wholesome, innocent behavior." Nejire laces her fingers with his and squeezes his hand. Izuku squeezes back. "I mean, that kid was so happy! Did you see his smile?"
"I did," Izuku admits, wearing one himself. "But did you see how those poor parents wished for anything but a seven-foot stuffed superhero to be in their child's hands?"
"Meh, they'll get over it," Nejire says. "It'll be a little hard walking around and annoying on the train back home, but once they get there? That kid will be the coolest in his class. Those moms will have someone who'll love them even more for agreeing to keep it. And, most importantly, they'll all have an amazing memory to share. No evil, only joy."
"If you say so."
"Oh, I do. Are you in the mood for food yet?"
"I could eat, sure."
They get ramen. Izuku can tell that it's the prepackaged stuff with absolutely disgusting (from a health standpoint) powdered flavoring made in some factory across some ocean. But he doesn't really care. It's a little chilly, and sitting across from Nejire under warm lights with hot noodles feels amazing.
When they finish, Nejire suggests that they get ice cream. Izuku doesn't want any, but he follows her to the stand anyway. The line moves quickly, and soon they're at the front. Izuku admires the menu and doesn't notice the way Nejire's face freezes when she sees the server.
"Hey, Hado!" Izuku looks up and sees a tan girl with her hair tied up in a ponytail. "It's been a while! I'm a third year student now, remember me?"
"Sorta?" Nejire says, staring down at the choices of ice cream. "Uh… I'll have one scoop of vanilla, no toppings."
"Still plain and boring, huh?" the server says, reaching for a cone and an ice cream scoop. "I thought you changed. I mean, we all saw how cool you were in the Sports Festivals. But I guess it was only skin-deep, huh?"
"Sure," Nejire says flatly. She takes the cone and tugs on Izuku's hand a little. "Cool seeing you. Try not to catch a cold." They leave before the girl can respond, Nejire quickly leading Izuku to a quieter section of the Festival.
"I'm guessing that that was a… friend of yours?" Izuku says, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah," Nejire says, staring at her ice cream. She holds it out to Izuku. "I know you didn't want any, but I'm not in the mood for it anymore. You can have it if you'd like."
"Sure," Izuku says as he takes the cone. There's not much, and he doesn't really have to eat all of it. He takes a small bite and waits for Nejire to gather her thoughts.
"I don't like this school," she says, leaning up against a nearby pole. Izuku keeps silent, content to listen. "I… I'm glad I got to go here, just because it's so prestigious, but I hate how snooty people are. The teachers expect you to be overly perfect, there's almost no free time even at home, and, well, the students aren't always the greatest. That girl used to make fun of me, even though I'm older."
Izuku tries to hide his shock because he just can't imagine anyone not liking Nejire or at least tolerating her. To think that she was actually teased? Maybe even bullied? He does a bad job of hiding his surprise—the idea's so out there.
"Yeah, I know," Nejire says, tugging on her scarf. "Weird, right? Well, I was way different in middle school. Mostly because it was right after… Well, I went here because my mom's an alumnus, and she's not exactly in the picture right now, if you catch my drift."
"Yeah," Izuku says, mostly so she knows he's listening.
"Yeah. Anyways, I went here because she went here. The house is nice because of her. We don't have to worry about financial stuff because of her. But right after they split? Didn't have that. So I was the daughter of an alum who… isn't around, and was being raised by a single father. No Quirklessness, but kids are vicious."
"You don't have to tell me any more," Izuku says.
Nejire half-smirks. "Thanks. I really appreciate that. And I'm sorry for just… dumping this on you. We're here to have fun, not mope over what has been."
"I mean, it's still part of you, right?"
"Yeah, even if therapy tried to iron it out."
"But it still affects you, yeah?" She nods. "My… paststill impacts me, and I sometimes get lost in it. It's not… the point is that I understand, and the night's not ruined because of it."
"Thanks, again. But I really just wanted to have fun."
"We still can. You hate this place, right?"
"Hate's a weak word to describe it."
Izuku chuckles. "Then let's leave."
"But you were looking forward to goofing off here. And there's free food."
"So? You're not enjoying yourself, and I don't want to be somewhere where you can't smile. So let's go somewhere else. Anywhere but here. A change of scenery will be great!"
They end up walking around downtown, admiring the city lights and occasionally window shopping. Their hands stay laced together the whole while, except when Izuku inevitably stumbles upon a mugging that he sorts out. The officer who responds is left utterly clueless as to why Nejire won't stop laughing and why Izuku can't look the mugger or the muggee in the eye. He winds up laughing with her, though, because it really is funny that he can't go more than five days without saving someone. Funny, but not at all bad.
Their wandering takes them to the edge of the city where a Ferris wheel overlooks a port. Izuku pays for tickets, and they hop into one of the cars. The seats are a little shoddy, and they have to share a seatbelt, but the view is amazing. Lights glow like the stars above, changing color at random. The ocean reflects the pale moonlight that peeks through the clouds almost shyly. They both keep silent the whole way up.
"They usually end the festival with fireworks," Nejire says, shifting away from him a little. "I wanted to watch them with you. But this is just as nice."
"I think so too," Izuku says, catching her eye. She looks away but takes a deep breath and stares at him.
"Pretty romantic, right?" Nejire says, right as they stop at the top. Izuku suddenly understands the knowing look the ticket salesman gave him when they got on.
"It's more than pretty romantic," Izuku says. "It's closer to very romantic, I think. I'm pretty sure this has happened in a movie or ten."
"Y-yeah," Nejire says. "It's, uh, that obvious, isn't it?"
"Yep, sure is."
"I still want to say it, though."
"G-go for it."
"Izuku, you… you're just really, really, awesome, and attractive, and, and a million other adjectives I can't think of right now." Nejire drums her fingers on her thighs, clearly nervous. "I really, really like you. Maybe… I want to be with you."
"I think the same," Izuku says, gently grabbing one of her hands. "Like, the exact same."
"Then can I…"
"I wouldn't say no."
They kiss. It's weird and unsure, but it feels right. Nejire pulls away. "I love you."
Izuku smiles and says the first thing that comes to mind.
"I know."
Chapter 58: Marked Progress
"I Han Solo'd her. She said she loved me, and I pulled a Han Solo. I can't even look her in the eye now! It wasn't even a cool situation to do it! It's not like I was about to be frozen in Carbonite; I was just being stupid! Everything was… was… it was all romantic and stuff, like right out of a movie. I knew what was coming—I could've prepared myself—but nooo. I just let myself blank out. Why am I like this?"
The poster of All Might doesn't answer, and Izuku slumps down in his desk chair. He's lucky the apartment is empty. The neighbors might have heard, but he's never seen them once in his life, so he doesn't care. The important thing is that no one important knows. Well, Nejire knows, but she hasn't seen Star Wars—something he's grateful for. Not that it would've been a disaster if she did catch the unintentional reference. Nejire probably would have laughed it off harder than she did. She's great like that. But it's still so embarrassing that Izuku's happy to keep it to himself.
He stands up and stretches his muscles. A weekend of heavy training and sleep had given him time to sit on everything that happened Friday, and his little rant was probably the peak of everything. It's such a weird, unexpected change in the grand scheme of things. Dating Nejire just… it feels like it can't be real. Or it did, until this morning. Really, hitting the weights and training for hours—even if he still isn't supposed to—worked wonders for his chaotic mind. Everything makes sense now, and it feels right. He has a girlfriend, one that loves him. He has a job that is fulfilling and pays well, his mom is working less and less, his proficiency with One for All is growing, and school is teaching him all sorts of new and useful things. He couldn't be happier.
With a smile, Izuku goes about the rest of his morning. He showers, eats, checks over some homework, and gets dressed. The train ride is quiet and peaceful, and no one stops him in the street to ask for an autograph. His phone is oddly silent—Twitter must be bothering some other poor schmuck today—and the gates of U.A are as welcoming as usual if you ignore the reporters waiting in front of it, which he does. And it feels so good to ignore them, too. Is this why Aizawa doesn't do interviews? Because brushing off the press is just so much fun?
Planning to ask him, Izuku walks through the doors of classroom 1-A, which are strangely closed. "Good morning, Mister—oh!"
Aizawa is passed out on the floor. Actually passed out, as in Izuku can see the even rise and fall of his chest as he lies belly-up with his hands tucked under his head. His sleeping bag is crumpled up into a heap in the corner, and there's a tall thermos of hot coffee on his desk. There's a smaller container next to it, dull grey and matte with a simple twist cap. It looks like a flask. Carefully, Izuku backs up towards the door. Aizawa, even in his sleep, looks dead tired. The last thing he wants to do is cut into his sleep.
He makes it halfway to the door when his shoe squeaks on the floor. Aizawa bolts upright, reaching for his neck, eyes glowing an angry red. Izuku laughs nervously. "Morning, sir."
Aizawa blinks, and One for All stirs in Izuku's gut, annoyed with being temporarily erased. "Morning," Aizawa says, though it sounds more like a question. "You can head up to Nedzu if you'd like."
"I've got a few minutes to kill," Izuku says, watching as Aizawa slowly stands and drinks a mouthful of coffee and puts the flask in his inner breast pocket. "Um… I guess you had a long weekend?"
"No longer than usual," Aizawa says in perfect monotone. "I'm getting old is all. I can't go for as long as I used to without burning out. I should've gotten more rest."
"Okay," Izuku says, trying not to show how he thinks that Aizawa's lying through his teeth. Even if the man was getting old, he'd be smart about it. There's no way he'd risk his life because he couldn't catch up on sleep. He'd realize early on that he's not as sharp as he should be and immediately do something to correct it. "Mine was nice. I got to relax and hang out with friends."
"You don't work weekends with Tensei?"
"I can't, remember?" Izuku says. "I, uh… Hound Dog doesn't let me." And neither do you, he doesn't say.
"Right." Aizawa drinks some more coffee and takes a deep breath. He lets it go. "How's your work study been?"
"Great," Izuku says, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. "It's been pretty action-packed so far, but we're thinking that everything will kinda cool off soon. I've really learned a lot from him, and he's made me think about a lot of things, even if he doesn't realize."
"He tends to do that," Aizawa mumbles, starting to nod off again even if he's standing with a hot drink in his hands. "He and… he and Oboro always used to say the dumbest things, but when they got serious—" Aizawa's eyes snap awake, and he flinches. A splash of coffee hits the tile, staining the floor a dark brown.
"I'm going to head up to class," Izuku says, keeping his eyes locked on the puddle of coffee. The last thing he wants Aizawa to see is how thoughtful his eyes are. But it has the added side effect of making it impossible to read his teacher's expression.
"Yeah," Aizawa says. "You do that and I'll clean up here."
Izuku walks up the stairs that lead to Nedzu's meeting room, torn between brushing aside what just happened and analyzing every tiny detail. Despite knowing Aizawa's smart and logical enough to get through nearly everything, worry starts to creep in. Something's clearly wrong, but what? Probably something serious since Aizawa is, well, Aizawa. Whatever it is must be big. And personal. Which is why Izuku's unsure if he should be worried. No, he is worried. He's just not sure if he should try to figure it out and try to help. Aizawa's an adult. An adult who knows how to deal with things. He should be good on his own. But Izuku can't shake the feeling that he should do something.
Nedzu takes his mind off of everything the second Izuku walks into the meeting room. There's a projector pointed at a screen that covers the far window. Nedzu sits on the floor in front of it, sipping tea as a block of letters that reads DVD Video glides across the screen, bouncing off the edges. Izuku watches as the logo starts to move to a corner and Nedzu leans forward, interested. When the logo hits, it changes color and rebounds. Satisfied, Nedzu stands and flicks the lens cover over the projector.
"One must find delight in the simplest of pleasures, no?" Nedzu says, walking over to his computer which is plugged into the projector. He clicks a few times and starts to type a password in.
"Sure," Izuku says, watching as the password to Nedzu's computer exceeds twenty characters. "I, uh, yeah, I get that. I also finished up that coding project you gave me. I had to restart a few times, but I think I got it."
"Wonderful. Send it to me in an email and I'll take a look at it later." Nedzu takes the lens cover off the projector, and the screen lights back up. A larger-than-life picture of Izuku and Piledriver holding up everyone else back at the photoshoot appears, the lighting and detail of every pixel flawless. Everyone's smiling, and their shirts, hoodies, hats, scarves, and even sweatpants are red or blue with the iconic logo written in white. Some people have their own faces on their clothes. More have their friend's faces and stand next to the real things. Most have some kind of unique logo, though, ones that match their costumes. Izuku's shirt is long-sleeved with a blue body and mismatched sleeves.
"It's perfect," Izuku says, already picturing a copy of it on his wall.
"Yes, the camera work and editing is top-notch—the company certainly didn't want to anger me," Nedzu says, chuckling. "Would you like to see the rest?"
"Yes, but I was wondering…" Izuku trails off.
"Wondering what?"
"You said you had dirt on the company," Izuku begins again. "I was just wondering what it was and why you decided to blackmail a fashion studio."
Nedzu's eyes gleam. "Well, blackmail is a strong word. I was merely cashing in a favor. And if you're curious, well." Nedzu shrugs. "Let's just say that their child wants to get into my school but wouldn't last long if they were treated normally."
"So you're turning a blind eye to an applicant's behavior?" Izuku asks, not liking it in the slightest.
"That's the thing: I'm not." Nedzu sets his tea down and spreads apart his arms. "The fact that I know that the child has issues means I could blacklist them. But I haven't. The parents think that I'll allow their child some wiggle room, considering that I'm letting them take the exam. But I'm not. In fact, Eraser and Vlad will be getting explicit copies of the student's record. Should they make it in, anyway. They might not. After all, who knows what the future holds?"
"I guess," Izuku says. "But it still feels wrong to let someone who… well, I don't know what they did, but you considered blacklisting them, right?" Nedzu nods. "It feels wrong letting someone who might not deserve to be here have a go at it."
"True, true, but consider this: that child will get into a school no matter what." Nedzu sips his tea. "They, well, for the lack of a better term, are a perfect candidate for a top hero. A strong Quirk, insane work ethic, unquestionable conviction, and high levels of strategic thinking. They placed first in the mock exams, you know."
"I didn't," Izuku says. "But they have a record, right? Won't that stop them from getting into a good school? Or even a bad school. Heroes don't like taking in criminals."
"You're correct on all accounts," Nedzu says. "Villain to hero stories are mostly fiction. Very few turn over, and in this society, once you start doing crime, it's hard to stop. Especially when you're young."
"I'm working to change that, though." Izuku points to the picture on the screen. "The whole reason I did that was to raise money for at-risk kids so they would have things to turn to that weren't crime or villainy."
"Then you believe in second chances," Nedzu stares.
"I do."
"That's a wonderful thing. So tell me, does this middle school delinquent with a history of illegal Quirk use and getting into fights deserve a shot at turning over a new leaf?"
"I guess," Izuku says. "Just as long as they try to get better, there's no problem with it. And how do you know about their record, anyway? Doesn't the government keep that kind of stuff private until you're an adult?"
"They do, but I'm better than them." Nedzu chuckles into his hand. "Oh, the things I get away with because the people writing and enforcing the laws are less intelligent than me…. I also keep an eye on prospects with strong or interesting Quirks. They've been on the list for years. Your friend Togata was as well, and Young Hado."
"Was I on the list?" Izuku can't help but ask.
"No," Nedzu says. "But try not to get so worked up about it. UA… UA is made to mold top pros, and there's a certain type that can make it all the way there. We don't exactly discriminate—if you pass the exam, you're in regardless of who or what you are—but we favor those with strong Quirks."
"That feels wrong."
"It is on some level," Nedzu concedes. "But it's what this school has done long before you or I were born, and it's what this school will continue to do long after we're gone. UA has a reputation to uphold. We made All Might. We made Endeavor. We made Best Jeanist. We're expected to keep doing the same, and we can't do that if we don't favor the strong and flashy."
"... Was it because I was Quirkless?"
"Partly." Nedzu nods sympathetically when Izuku looks away. "You also didn't show signs of a strong work ethic, otherwise our scouts would have mentioned something. But yes, it was because you were Quirkless. It's… an unfortunate truth of our society that no one will ever look at a Quirkless person and think 'hero.' A Quirkless person won't ever make someone feel safe, no matter how skilled or smart they are. It is wrong from a moral standpoint, but in the eyes of your average citizen? How could a Quirkless person even be a hero when using a Quirk to save others is part of what makes a hero a hero?"
Izuku cringes. "I wouldn't have made it as a Quirkless hero, huh?"
"Few would," Nedzu says. "But it wouldn't be impossible for every Quirkless person out there. UA and Shiketsu focus on strong Quirks, but schools like Ketsubutsu, Seijin, Seiai Academy, and Isamu don't. They'll take anybody and help them grow as best they can. Quirk or no."
"That's… a little comforting at least." Izuku taps his legs, still trying to process everything. "I still don't like it, though."
"Neither do I," Nedzu says. "I think the way society treats those who don't fit in their mold is disgusting. It's why I helped train Aizawa for his first year Sports Festival."
"You helped Aizawa get into the hero course?" Izuku asks, connecting the dots, "and Aizawa transferred into heroics?"
"Oh, yes," Nedzu reminisces, "he failed the practical and was quite the moody child. I was teaching philosophy at that time, but I occasionally lent myself to the heroics teachers. I saw that Aizawa was hungry for a shot, was impressed with his Quirk and the work he put in already, and, well…"
"He's Eraserhead now," Izuku finishes.
"Indeed," Nedzu agrees. "He's the sort of hero I wish UA would focus on. But alas, this school has traditions that can't be tossed."
"But you're the principal, aren't you?"
"Yes, and that grants me some power. But." Nedzu taps his scar. "I'm not particularly well-liked outside of my circle. There's also around fifty years worth of alumni who'd raise a fuss, and that's not even taking the school board into account."
"So it's kinda stuck this way," Izuku says. "I mean, you can't fix it, and the people in power don't want it to be fixed."
"Nothing's impossible," Nedzu says. "Well, that which is impossible is outnumbered by that which is. The system can be changed—completely overhauled, even. Just not by me."
"Then who?"
"You," Nedzu says simply. "Think about it. You are a hero with an amazing, flashy Quirk. You've been shown to work hard and have a strong character. The government, Commission, and society as a whole will happily take you in. Provided they haven't already."
"I'm not so sure about that."
"You'll have to distance yourself from me for it to work," Nedzu continues, "I'm almost subhuman in their eyes, you know. But if they see a disconnect between you and I, well… you'll be right in the inner circle."
"Inner… circle?" Izuku asks.
"Oh, yes. This country,—and every other one, if I'm honest—is run by a few elites. I'm not one of them, but I have dirt on a few so I can keep an eye out on what they do." Nedzu taps his nails on his mug, making a series of high-pitched tinks. "They'll probably approach you and attempt to bribe you. Playing nice for a while will get you even further in, and by the time you're thirty—"
"That's a long way into the future—"
"—you'll have this country in your hands," Nedzu says, ignoring Izuku's comment in favor of staring off into the distance. "Yes, then you can mold Japan how you want it. People wronged by how it is now and was before will get their justice. It may take years for everything to fully change for the better, but it willhappen. All you need to do is to keep training."
Izuku blinks and sorely wishes for a cup of tea. "That was… a lot," he says, still trying to process everything. "I… I don't even know what to say. Should… should someone even be able to have that much power?"
"Not at all, but the fact that you're questioning it makes you the perfect candidate."
"Still…"
"You're to be the next Symbol, no?" Nedzu points to the projector. "The money from that is already going to help those in need. If you want to succeed All Might—not just be the next version of him—you'll have to keep going. Yagi built a wonderful society where people can smile without fear, but he's really only draped a sheet over the deep-rooted issues left over from those awful times. People are still suffering from decisions made decades or even centuries in the past. You wish to help as many as possible. To me, at least, the choice is clear."
"It's still a lot," Izuku says. "To think I could have that much power in the palms of my hands… I'm almost scared of it."
"Good. Perfect, even. Those who don't fear or understand the ramifications of having great power are bound to let it consume them." Nedzu looks at Izuku very seriously for a moment but quickly flashes a warm smile. "But you're only sixteen! It's good to think about the future, yes, but you should enjoy your youth. Train, goof off with your friends, stay up late like you youngsters do. It'd be a shame if you miss out on a chunk of your life because you were worried about what's to come."
Izuku sits, absorbing Nedzu's words deep into his mind. "Thank you," he says. "That was great advice."
"I try," Nedzu says, tipping an imaginary hat. "I think it's time for you to go, however. Have fun."
"I will, sir. I will."
Of course, fun doesn't come until lunch. Classes with Midnight and Present Mic are enjoyable, but they're not exactly fun. It's interesting to learn more history and how to do a backflip without a Quirk before summarizing a book he read in English but definitely not fun. Izuku ends up thinking about what his combat lesson will be later in the day and how his friends are doing. But when lunch does roll around, Izuku finds himself distracted by his phone. Apparently his moment of peace from social media was temporary, and now he's trending again. It's because of the photoshoot, though, so it's not awful. He replies to a few tweets before shutting off his phone and getting in the lunch line.
Once he gets his pile of food, Izuku walks over to his usual table. It's empty, but he catches a flash of periwinkle in the food line and figures that at least Nejire is right behind him. He sits, makes sure his phone is on silent, and starts to eat.
It's not Nejire that sits down first, but rather Mirio. The taller boy gently sets his lunch tray down and sits across from him. Mirio's blue eyes bore into his, and Izuku shifts a little, unused to his straight face. "I know," Mirio says, and the corners of his lips twitch up a little. Izuku's face turns beet red, and Mirio loses it.
"She told you, didn't she?" Izuku says, fighting the urge to let his face slam into his beef stew. Mirio, covering his mouth with one hand while he wheezes, nods. "Please tell me you didn't explain."
"S-so it was an accidental Star Wars reference," Mirio says, giggling. "I wasn't completely sure. I m-mean, I-it's still funny either way"—he lets out another short round of laughter—"but you knew what you did, too."
"Yeah," Izuku says, staring down into his food, regretting his very existence. "It was awful."
"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad," Mirio says. "Funny? Yes. Hilarious? Definitely. But nothing bad came of it, right? Nejire didn't take it the wrong way."
"No," Izuku says. "She just kinda laughed and then kissed me again. I… I said it back later in the evening."
"So it's fine."
"Yeah."
"I'm still not letting it go."
"I'd be worried if you did," Izuku admits. "It is pretty funny."
"And it would be even funnier if she knew what it meant."
"You wouldn't."
"I—"
"Hey, guys!" Nejire calls, swooping in to sit next to Izuku. Across from her, Tamaki sits next to Mirio. "Whatcha up to?"
"Lunch," Izuku says, trying not to look at Mirio's wiggling eyebrows. "And, uh, talking about school stuff."
"Cool. How were your classes?" Nejire asks, picking up her drink and taking a sip.
"Normal-ish," Izuku says. "Nedzu's… Nedzu, but everything else is normal as it always is. How about you?"
"Ours were great. Right, Tamaki?"
"Sure," Tamaki says. "If you count two exams and a pop quiz as good things."
Izuku winces. "On the same day? Really?"
"Yeah, but they were easy," Nejire says. "I mean, you were done first for all of them, right?"
"I guess." Tamaki shrugs, poking his chicken with his chopsticks. "I still could've bombed them."
"You've been in the top five for literal years," Nejire says, casually grabbing one of Izuku's hands to hold. Izuku tries not to let it distract him, but he fails and ends up dropping a piece of beef back into the broth. "There's no chance of you failing out now."
"PDA isn't okay, you know," Mirio says, gesturing to Nejire and Izuku's laced fingers. "It's not against the rules, but…"
"Hypocrisy is also discouraged, you know," Nejire says coyly. "I seem to remember a few detentions you had for, oh, how should I put it? Inappropriate affection."
"Not the public kind, though," Mirio argues.
"It's still against the rules, and you're not fooling anyone," Nejire says. "I'd bet a thousand yen that your hand is on Tamaki's thigh right now."
Mirio coughs, pink seeping into his cheeks. "I'm going to awkwardly change the subject now because I don't have a defense for that. Movie night, anyone? Sometime this month?"
"Subtle," Izuku says with a laugh. "You're just a master of quietly controlling the conversation."
"Oh, definitely," Nejire agrees. "But what day were you thinking, Mirio? I work weekends, and Fridays are date nights."
"They are?" Izuku asks.
"If you'd like."
"Oh. Sure, that'd be fine."
"Maybe a Sunday," Mirio cuts in. "Uh, Sir wants me working a few hours every day, but most of my shifts are under four hours. And Tamaki…"
"I only work Thursdays, Fridays, and weekends," Tamaki says. "But four six-hour shifts. I could probably ask Fat Gum for some time off."
"So a Sunday, then," Nejire says. "Next week?"
"The week after would work better for me," Izuku says. "I want to get a few more on-call hours at Idaten first, if that's alright."
"That's perfectly fine," Mirio says. "Sunday two weeks from now. How does watching Star Wars sound?"
"No!" Izuku has to fight from slamming his hand over his mouth, because he knows what Mirio's trying to pull. "Er, I mean, there's so many of them, and we've all watched them before, right? Shouldn't we watch something new?"
"I haven't seen Star Wars," Nejire says.
"Really?" Mirio says, acting surprised. "You never told me!"
"Yeah I did," Nejire says, clearly slightly suspicious. "You tried to explain the plot to me and I got lost after the first ten seconds."
"Ah. Well, I must've forgotten," Mirio says, looking Izuku right in the eye. "We should change that. They're good movies."
"Not really," Izuku says, already regretting it because of how appalled Mirio looks. "I-I mean, it's hard to get into it if you didn't see it when you were young. They're also pretty… dated. Like, the effects of the first nine aren't up to scratch, and the dialogue..."Izuku shivers.
"But you like them, right?" Nejire asks.
"Definitely," Izuku says. "I really enjoy re-watching them, even if I do laugh at some of the parts."
"If you like them then I wanna see them, too," Nejire decides.
"Great," Mirio says as Izuku stares at him with pleading eyes. "We'll go in the order that they were released in, so episode four's first."
"That makes no sense."
"Yep! But just wait till we get to episode five. I have a feeling that you'll like that one!"
Izuku tries not to dread his future embarrassment, but it's too difficult to do. He can't look anyone in the eye for the rest of lunch and quietly heads to his next class. He knows it won't be that bad—every rational part of him recognizes that Nejire won't care and will laugh when she finds out. But the irrational part of him that Izuku can't shove aside is very loud in voicing its opinion on the matter. It's going to be awful when it happens. He can't help but think so, anyways.
It's a relief when school's out. Izuku prepares to head home for some rest or maybe to the gym for some flying practice. He's not sure, since his mother's busy for the night and won't be home until later. But there's also a lot that's happened today. Stacking more training on top wouldn't make Hound Dog or Aizawa happy. Aizawa…
Izuku tries not to think about the man, he really does. The memory of his teacher early in the morning sticks in his head, though. Tired, dead-eyed, and, well, almost depressed. It shakes him up a little, and he doesn't even notice that his phone's ringing until it's right about to stop.
"Hey, this is Midoriya. Who's there?" he asks, not having seen the contact name in his haste.
"It's Hound Dog. How's it goin' kid?"
"Good," Izuku says. "Um… is something wrong? Not that I don't like hearing from you, but, uh…"
"Getting called by your therapist outta the blue ain't exactly fun, I getcha. But this ain't a bad thing."
"That's good."
"Yeah. I just wanted to know if you were free to come in right now. I've been… let's just call it booked for the foreseeable future. It's not that I don't care about ya—I've just gotten a few more patients that take higher priority, and the session we planned for after your patrol kinda fell through."
"I'd be okay with coming in right now," Izuku says. "I haven't even left campus yet."
"Great. See you in my office."
The walk over is quick and gives Izuku something else to focus on. Once he makes it to the building, he climbs the steps, knocks on the door, enters, and sits down. Hound Dog greets him and offers him coffee like always. Izuku declines and gets comfortable on the couch. "Sorry about the short notice," Hound Dog says. "It was a real shock when I got my new patients. I just got the news today myself, and I'm still trying to figure out what to do to help them."
"It's alright," Izuku says. "I'm not busy, and I understand that other people need help."
"Of course you do," Hound Dog says, putting on the closest thing he can to a smile. "That's actually kinda what I want to talk to you about today. How you view heroics is important, you know."
"Yeah," Izuku says. "I think this is also something that you wanted to touch on a while back, right? I kinda remember you pushing the topic aside so we could focus on a different issue."
"Yep, that I did. And it's alright to do that. Breaking things apart is a great way to problem-solve. Anyways, how was your day?"
"Fifty-fifty," Izuku says after a moment of thought. "I made plans with friends, learned a few things, lifted, and, uh, Nedzu did his thing. But Aizawa doesn't look too good."
"Yeah, the staff all knows. Try not to let your worry get to you, though. He'll get better; we'll all make sure of it."
"That's good to hear. I just wish I could help him."
"Good, that means you care. How was your last patrol?"
"Normal. I arrested a few low-level villains, and there was nothing big all day."
"Calm is good, especially in our line of work. Gives us time to rest before something big inevitably happens. Could you walk me through how you thought during that big bank fight you had a while back?"
Izuku blinks, surprised. "Now? You didn't ask me about it during the session right after it happened."
"'Cause you weren't ready for this conversation yet. I think you are now, though."
"Alright. Um… it's kinda hard to explain, because I don't tend to think a whole lot. Well, I do. It's just about how to do the actual saving or fighting. I don't think I'm capable of analyzing my feelings mid-battle."
"That's fine. How about you tell me about your feelings during the scenario instead?"
"What do you mean?"
"Think back to how you felt during it. It's not that hard in concept, but it may take you some time to gather your thoughts. If it helps, replay the event in your mind."
"Okay. Um, first I was worried and a little bit apprehensive. I didn't know what was going on, and after the explosion, I knew I had to get a read on the situation," Izuku recalls, leaving out how he almost lost himself in the early parts of the attack. "Once I saw how bad it was, I kinda felt better, but also worse? Like I knew how bad the street looked and that it was just the bank, but there also wasn't a whole lot of new information to go off of. It was a weird mix of confidence and apprehension."
"All of that's normal," Hound Dog says, writing a few things down. "But I understand that there was a brief disagreement between you and Ingenium?"
"He wanted to go first into the bank. I thought that I should be first."
"Why?"
"Because I'm stronger. No, that sounds egotistical. It was because there was less danger in me going in front of him. I'm more durable than Ingenium, and if the worst came to worst, I could take a big hit and live while he countered."
"How'd you feel while taking point?"
Izuku shrugs. "Normal. I was worried, but no more than I would've if Ingenium was in front. Actually, I think I would've felt worse if I had let Ingenium take point."
"Why?"
"Well, I said it earlier, right? In terms of the mission and everyone's safety, it makes sense that I go first."
"So you'd rather risk your life than another person's."
"Yeah. That's kind of a part of the job."
"True. Can you think of a situation where you wouldn't choose someone's life over your own?"
"No," Izuku says instantly.
"Yeah, that's a bad thing."
"What? Being a hero means you risk it all for anyone and everyone. If I'm not willing to offer myself up for another, then I wouldn't feel right calling myself a hero."
"Midoriya, do you want to die?"
"No."
"Really? Because if you keep that mindset, you're going to. Pretty soon, if I had to guess."
"I… if I died saving someone, then I think I'd be okay with it," Izuku says, a little afraid of the words that leave his lips.
Hound Dog remains silent for a moment. "This," he says after a while, "is going to sound awful, but bear with me. You, Midoriya Izuku, are more important than the average person."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. How many lives have you saved already?"
"Over fifteen, I think. Maybe twenty-five."
"Cool. That's great. How many lives has All Might saved?"
"You can't answer that question. It's… he's the Symbol of Peace. There's no telling how many lives he's responsible for."
"Alright. How many could All Might have saved if he died at sixteen?"
Izuku forgets to breathe for a moment. "I… I think I understand."
"I want you to say it. Please. It'll help it soak in."
Izuku swallows. "Under a hundred."
"Yeah. In comparison, the average Joe or Jane off the street will save zero. Doctors, social workers, and police officers might get a few, but heroes? Ones like you're going to be? Hundreds. Thousands. Actually, you might get up into the tens of thousands. Whether or not you're the next All Might is up for debate, but you could be one of the greats. If you die now, saving just one person, how many will die in the future because you weren't there?"
"I don't know," Izuku says. "I… I…"
"This is heavy stuff," Hound Dog soothes. "It's okay to feel scared. Shit, it's normal, even. But it's important that you understand this. We've lost so many young heroes—kids, really—because they didn't understand the value of their own life. It would break my heart to see another one be you, kid. Understand?"
"I-if I can't protect myself, I can't protect others." Izuku thinks back to his lessons with Danger Sense, and how picturing himself as the shield for everyone had hurt him. But when he shielded himself, he was able to do the impossible.
"Remember that. It's okay to be selfish when it comes to your own life, okay?"
"Okay."
"Good. I think you might be ready."
"Ready for what?"
"To never see my ugly mug again is what. A few more weeks and you'll be good to go. You've gotten everything I wanted you to, down. Still see that Hanson lady, though. Therapy is always good for ya. But you're ready for the big stuff again."
"Like patrols and my old training schedule?"
"As long as you remember the value of your life, yeah."
Izuku looks into Hound Dog's beady black eyes. He sees happiness and fulfillment. He's pretty sure he looks the same. "Thank you, sir. For everything."
"Bah, wait till you're actually cleared. I still wanna see you for a while longer. Thank yourself, though, for working hard to get better."