Five minutes ago, a building-sized robot had tried to turn three teenagers into sidewalk art. Now the only sounds were distant sirens, the settling of debris, and Izuku's own heartbeat slowly returning to something resembling normal.
He found a chunk of relatively clean concrete and sat down. His legs appreciated this decision. His lungs appreciated this decision. Every single muscle fiber in his entire body appreciated this decision.
Ten months of Hano's hellish training had prepared him for a lot of things. Carrying two girls at a dead sprint while a mechanical apocalypse played footsie with the pavement had not been on the curriculum.
Note to self: Ask the old bastard to add "damsel-hauling cardio" to the regimen.
Ochaco Uraraka's brown eyes were puffy from crying, but the tears had stopped. In their place was something that made Izuku's ego purr like a Ferrari.
Pure, undiluted hero worship.
On his other side, Kyoka Jiro sat down with all the grace of someone who absolutely did not want to be there but refused to leave. Her arms crossed over her chest. Her jaw set at an angle that could cut glass. Her earphone jacks twitched with barely contained irritation.
She was pointedly not looking at him.
Cute.
The three of them sat in silence for approximately eight seconds before Ochaco exploded.
"I still can't believe it!" Her voice was high and fast, words tumbling over each other like puppies fighting for attention. "You saved me! Both of you! Thank you thank you thank you so much! I really thought I was gonna die! That robot foot was coming down and I was like 'this is it, this is how Ochaco Uraraka's story ends, squished like a bug' and then WHOOSH you came out of nowhere and you lifted that concrete like it was nothing and then you grabbed me and we ran and that was the coolest most heroic thing I've ever seen in my entire life!"
She finally paused to breathe.
Izuku blinked.
Did she say all that in one breath? Is that her Quirk? Unlimited lung capacity?
"Uh. You're welcome?"
Ochaco beamed at him. The smile was so bright it was almost physically painful. Like staring directly into the sun, except the sun had rosy cheeks and looked at you like you hung the moon.
"Your Quirk is amazing!" She leaned in closer, and Izuku caught a whiff of something sweet. Vanilla? "The speed, the strength, the way you just ran through all that chaos like it was nothing! What's it called? Is it a reinforcement type? Enhancement? Oh! Is it like All Might's?"
Jiro made a sound somewhere between a snort and a cough.
Izuku glanced at her. She was still very aggressively not looking at him, but her lips were pressed together in a way that suggested she was trying very hard not to say something.
He turned back to Ochaco and shrugged. "Don't have one."
Ochaco tilted her head like a confused puppy. "Don't have one what?"
"A Quirk. I'm Quirkless."
The words hung in the air between them.
Ochaco's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Jiro finally turned to look at him. Her expression was equal parts vindication and frustration, like she'd been waiting for this moment but still didn't know how to process it.
"You're not serious," Ochaco said slowly. "You're joking, right?"
"Not joking." Izuku held up his hands, palms out, the universal gesture of honesty. "No Quirk. Never had one. Born with an extra joint in my pinky toe and zero supernatural abilities."
Ochaco's eyes went wide.
"Wow." The word came out as a breath. "Really? You're not lying? No one would lie about that, that would be so stupid, who lies about being Quirkless?"
"Exactly my point."
"That's... that's SO COOL!" Ochaco grabbed his arm with both hands, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who looked like she subsisted entirely on mochi and positive thoughts. "You did all of that without a Quirk?! The running and the lifting and the saving?! You're like... you're like a real-life action movie hero!"
Izuku felt his ego swell to approximately three times its normal size.
I could get used to this.
"No. Freaking. Way."
Jiro's voice was flat. Hard. The verbal equivalent of a brick wall.
She was finally looking at him directly, and her face was a mask of pure, frustrated disbelief. Her purple eyes had narrowed to dangerous slits. Her jaw was tight enough to crack walnuts.
"You expect us to believe you ran across three city blocks carrying me on your back, then lifted a concrete slab that had to weigh at least seven hundred pounds, with pure muscle? No enhancement? No strength boost? Nothing?"
Izuku smiled.
"I expect you to believe what you experienced directly, Compass. You were there. You felt it. Your legs were wrapped around my waist, remember? Very thoroughly wrapped, I might add."
Jiro's face went red.
"That's... I was... YOU TOLD ME TO!"
"And you listened so obediently." Izuku leaned back on his hands. "Good girl."
For a moment, Izuku was genuinely concerned that Jiro's earphone jacks were going to strangle him. They had risen from her sides like angry snakes, coiling in the air, clearly eager for violence.
"Jealousy really is an ugly color on you," he added, because apparently his survival instincts had decided to take the day off. "Even with the purple hair."
"I'M NOT JEALOUS YOU ARROGANT BROCCOLI-HEADED LIAR!"
"Broccoli-headed?" Ochaco looked between them. "Oh! Because his hair is green! And fluffy! Like broccoli! That's so cute!"
"It's not meant to be cute," Jiro snapped. "It's meant to be an insult."
"But it's such a cute insult though."
"IT'S NOT—" Jiro made a sound of pure frustration. Her hands came up to grip her own hair, fingers tangling in the purple strands. "Why are you like this?! Both of you?! Why am I surrounded by crazy people?!"
Izuku watched this display with deep satisfaction.
This is better than television.
Ochaco, apparently completely unbothered by Jiro's minor breakdown, turned her attention back to Izuku. Her earlier hero worship had not diminished in the slightest. If anything, it had intensified.
"So if you don't have a Quirk, how did you get so strong? Training? How long did it take? What did you do? Do you have a coach? Can you teach me? I want to be that fast! Not that my Quirk helps with speed, it's more of a gravity thing, but still!"
"Ten years," Izuku said. "Give or take."
"TEN YEARS?!"
"My sensei is... thorough."
Thorough was one word for it. Sadistic was another. Criminally insane probably fit best. But Izuku had learned long ago that complaining about Hano's methods was like complaining about the weather. Pointless and ultimately futile.
Jiro had stopped her mini-breakdown to stare at him again.
"Ten years," she repeated. "You spent ten years training your body to the point where you can keep up with Quirk users. Without any powers."
"That's what I said."
"That's insane."
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment!"
Ochaco was still watching them. Her head moved back and forth between Izuku and Jiro like she was observing a particularly entertaining tennis match. The confusion on her face had gradually morphed into something else.
Understanding.
Or perhaps misunderstanding.
The distinction would become clear in approximately three seconds.
"Wow!" She clapped her hands together, the sound sharp in the dusty air.
"You two are really close! Are you guys dating?"