"O-oh! Really?! I hope it was all good things!"
"Of course it was! He says you're very creative with your Quirk and that you have excellent fashion sense!"
When did I say that? I never said that.
"Now don't you worry about a thing, dear." Inko's voice had taken on that warm, motherly tone that could convince anxious teenagers that everything would be fine even if the world was actively ending. "A smart, brave girl like you is exactly what U.A. is looking for. I'm sure your letter will arrive any day now with wonderful news!"
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Midoriya! That means a lot! I've been so nervous, I keep checking the mailbox every five minutes and my mom keeps telling me I'm going to wear out the hinges and—"
A new voice interrupted.
It was a woman's voice. Mature. Playful. And carrying an undertone that made Izuku's brain sit up and pay attention.
"Toru-chan~ Are you on the phone with that cute boy again?"
The floating clothes on the screen went rigid.
"MOM! GET OUT!"
"Oh come on, let me see him! You talk about him all the time, I want to know what all the fuss is about!"
"I DO NOT TALK ABOUT HIM ALL THE—MOM, STOP, DON'T GRAB THE—"
The camera jostled violently.
Izuku caught glimpses of ceiling, wall, plushie mountain, and then—
Oh.
Oh my.
A woman's face filled the frame.
She was... well. "Stunning" felt like an understatement. "Gorgeous" didn't quite capture it either. The word Izuku's brain eventually settled on was "unfair."
She looked like she could have been Toru's older sister rather than her mother. High cheekbones. Full lips curved into a knowing smile. And her hair... her hair was something else entirely. It shifted colors as she moved, flowing from seafoam green to emerald to something that sparkled like sunlight on water. Her skin had a faint luminescence to it, a soft glow that suggested her body naturally bent light in fascinating ways.
So that's where Toru gets it from, Izuku thought. The genetic lottery was extremely kind to the Hagakure family.
"Hiiii, Izuku-kun~"
She drew out his name like it was candy she wanted to savor.
"Toru talks about you ALL the time. 'Izuku-kun this' and 'Izuku-kun that'. She winked at the camera. "I have to say, you're even cuter than she described."
In the background, Toru's floating clothes had collapsed onto what appeared to be a bed, arms covering where her face would be.
"I'M GOING TO DIE. THIS IS HOW I DIE. MURDERED BY MY OWN MOTHER."
"Oh hush, sweetie, I'm just being friendly."
Beside Izuku, Inko had gone very still. Her eyes had narrowed slightly. Her smile remained, but it had taken on a quality that Izuku recognized as dangerous.
Ah. Mom has identified a rival.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Hagakure," Inko said, her voice perfectly pleasant. "I'm Inko Midoriya, Izuku's mother."
"Please, call me Hikari!" The woman on the screen beamed. "And the pleasure is all mine! Toru's been so much happier since she met your son. It's wonderful to see her making friends before school even starts!"
"Izuku has always been very popular with girls."
"I can see why!"
The two mothers smiled at each other through the phone screen.
Izuku felt like he was watching two predators circle each other, both pretending to be harmless house cats.
Hikari's attention shifted to something off-screen. Her smile widened.
"Oh! Speaking of wonderful things..."
She reached out of frame, and when her hand returned, it held something that made Izuku's heart skip.
A thick envelope.
Cream-colored paper.
And stamped in the corner, unmistakable even through a phone camera: the brilliant red wax seal of U.A. High School.
"Look what the mail carrier just dropped off~"
The sounds that came from Toru's direction could not be accurately described as human.
It was somewhere between a scream, a sob, and the noise a tea kettle makes when it's been left on the stove too long. The floating clothes shot upright so fast that the cardigan nearly flew off.
"OHMYGOD. OHMYGOD. OHMYGOD IT'S HERE. IT'S ACTUALLY HERE. I'M GOING TO THROW UP."
"Toru-chan, please don't throw up on your nice carpet—"
"MOM GIVE IT TO ME RIGHT NOW!"
Izuku watched as invisible hands snatched the envelope from Hikari's grasp. The paper floated in midair, trembling violently.
"I can't open it. I can't. What if it's a rejection? What if I failed? What if everything you said was just lies to make me feel better and actually I'm terrible and—"
"Open it."
Izuku's voice cut through her spiral again.
"You're not terrible. You're not going to fail. Open the envelope, Hagakure."
Silence.
Then the sound of tearing paper.
A small device fell out of the envelope and clattered onto what was probably a desk. A moment later, a holographic projection flickered to life. Izuku couldn't see it clearly from his angle, but he could hear the tinny audio of what sounded like a recorded message.
He could also hear Toru start crying.
Not sad crying. Happy crying. The kind of crying that happened when something you'd been terrified about turned out better than you ever imagined.
"I GOT IN! IZUKU-KUN I GOT IN! TWELVE VILLAIN POINTS AND TWENTY-EIGHT RESCUE POINTS AND I'M IN THE HERO COURSE AND—"
She dissolved into unintelligible squealing.
Hikari's face reappeared in the frame, smiling warmly despite the chaos happening behind her.
"I think she needs a moment," she said. "Thank you for being such a good friend to her, Izuku-kun. It means a lot."
"She earned it herself. I just reminded her of that."
Hikari's smile gained an edge of approval.
"Modest too. How refreshing." She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, who was apparently now running in circles around her room based on the sounds. "I'll let you go. I'm sure your own letter is on its way. Best of luck, handsome!"
The call ended.
Izuku lowered his phone.
The apartment felt very quiet.
He became aware of his mother's hand on his shoulder. Her teasing demeanor had vanished completely. When he looked at her, her eyes were soft with love and anxiety and something that might have been pride.
"Izuku..."
"I know."
He walked back to the living room. The couch that had felt so comfortable ten minutes ago now seemed like the worst place in the world to be. He sat down anyway, placing his phone face-up on the coffee table.
The clock on the wall ticked.
Each second felt like an hour.
Come on, Izuku thought. I trained for ten years. I cleaned an entire beach with my bare hands. I punched a sludge villain into unconsciousness. I carried two girls through a collapsing city while a giant robot tried to step on us.
If they reject me after all that, I'm going to find whoever makes these decisions and have a very polite conversation with them about their life choices.
Inko sat down beside him. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her presence was enough, a warm anchor in a sea of uncertainty.
The clock ticked.
And ticked.
And—
His phone screen lit up.
A text notification.
Contact: "Toru (The Invisible Menace)"
Message Preview: "IMG_3847.jpg attached"
Izuku picked up his phone and opened the message.
It was a photo of Toru's acceptance letter. The holographic projection showed the scores clearly: 12 villain points, 28 rescue points, total score of 40.
Below the image was a wall of text:
"I'M IN I'M IN I'M IN I'M IN I'M IN!!!!!!"
"HERO COURSE CLASS 1-A!!!"
"IZUKU-KUN YOU WERE RIGHT I LOVE YOU"
"NOT LIKE THAT"
"WELL MAYBE A LITTLE LIKE THAT BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT"
"THE POINT IS I'M GOING TO BE A HERO"
"WE'RE GOING TO BE CLASSMATES RIGHT???? TELL ME YOUR LETTER CAME TOO!!!"
Izuku read the messages.
Read them again.
A smile spread across his face. Slow. Confident. The smile of someone who had never doubted the outcome for a single second.
Class 1-A, huh?
He looked up at his mother, ready to share the good news.
That's when they both heard it.
The sound of a small engine outside. Getting closer. The distinctive whine of a mail carrier's scooter pulling up to their apartment building.
Inko's hand flew to her mouth.
Izuku stood.
The bag of wasabi chips fell from the couch and scattered across the floor, completely forgotten.
Finally.