Chapter 3
Chapter warning: Gore, discussions of past domestic abuse, car accidents, and murder.
Self-imposed community service is surprisingly difficult with all the screaming.
Izuku's not the one screaming – well, he does yell a little, like when he barks his shin on the corner of a discarded oven or accidentally drops a microwave oven on his foot. But he's not getting distracted by the sound of his own voice.
The first time it happens is on the very first day, and Izuku is so exhausted from waking up at the crack of dawn that he's sure he's just having a vivid auditory hallucination.
But no, that's not the case, because the sound of it sends Rei spider-crawling down from her perch on the trash heap, and it makes the ghost woman at All-Might's side hover closer and look around in alarm. With the woman's back turned, Rei tugs on his hand and points. He follows the direction of her finger, bleary-eyed, but all he sees are rolling hills of garbage.
Rolling, screaming hills of garbage.
He's already tired and sore from the heavy lifting he's done since he got started, but now there's a buzzing in his nerves. It's not fear, not yet, but it's a quietly relentless, anxious energy. It's a lot like fight or flight, but he can't yet tell whether he wants to fight or flee more; all he knows is he doesn't want to stay still. He wants to do something, anything to make the screaming stop.
Before he can stop himself, he groans aloud and massages desperately at his forehead, trying to ward off an oncoming headache.
A hearty pat on the back almost knocks him flat on his face, and his unbalanced staggering hides the fact that it makes him jump like a startled rabbit. "Resting already?" All-Might's voice booms, momentarily drowning out the disembodied shrieking. "Not giving up so soon, are we, young Midoriya?"
"Nope!" Izuku puts on his brightest, most determined smile, and gets back to hauling trash to the pickup. It doesn't take much to get him out of breath, but he carries on. As he does so, he tilts his head this way and that, trying to pinpoint where the cries are coming from. His friend keeps close to him, glaring around all the while.
Before long, Izuku determines that the voice isn't just screaming; it's crying, as well. His nervousness drops a little, but the buzz of restless energy is still there. Izuku pours it into what he's doing.
"I don't like this."
Izuku shoots a quick glance toward the speaker. Ever since the sludge villain incident, he's seen
her hanging close to All-Might's side. He has yet to see one without the other.
She's not someone he recognizes, and that only piques his curiosity. She's broad and muscular, with dark hair in a half-updo. A lot of ghosts appear in whatever outfit they died in, but most of them can change how they look if they want, and Izuku's never sure either way unless there's blood or clothing damage. In this ghost's case, her tank top and athletic pants make her look like she died on her way to the gym. There doesn't seem to be a mark on her, though, so she was either poisoned or she's changed her look.
Izuku wonders what her name is.
He hasn't spoken to her – not yet. He hasn't seen her without All-Might around, and there's no way he's going to risk talking to her when the Number One Hero might hear him. If All-Might hears him, then he'll ask who he's talking to, and Izuku can't tell him the truth. He absolutely can't.
Izuku has his chance, his first and only chance to become a hero. There's no way he's risking it when he's barely even started. All-Might doesn't have to know.
As he watches from the corner of his eye, the woman aims a swat at the back of All-Might's head that goes right through him. "Welp, I'm gonna go check that mess out and, uh... hopefully figure out a way to clue you two knuckleheads in on a screaming rageghost if I need to. Sit tight, Toshi." She vanishes then into thin air.
Izuku purses his lips as he stoops and wraps his arms around what looks like the remains of a microwave oven. If it does prove to be dangerous, then he'll have to find a way to warn All-Might without revealing too much. Can he make up some excuse for them to leave, without making All- Might think he isn't serious about this?
Before he can think further on the subject, the haunting voice is joined by a second, and that's when the eerie wails turn into what sounds like the ghostly-shrieking equivalent of the noises cats make when they fight in an alleyway. Izuku certainly isn't expecting it, because that's when he drops the microwave oven on his own foot and adds his own high-pitched yelp to the din.
Thanks to disuse and decay, it's only about half a microwave oven by now, so Izuku avoids a broken foot. He can't quite dodge All-Might's attention, though.
"Haha, w-whoops!" Gingerly he pulls his foot out from under the broken appliance. "Silly me, b- butterfingers, haha. No harm done, don't worry about it, I can just. Pick it back up." He does so, still chunnering to himself with the faint hope that All-Might will brush this off. "Yup, still going. No problem. Off to the truck." Except there's a very good chance that All-Might's ghost friend is tangling with an unhappy poltergeist at the moment, and Izuku has no way of escaping his attention long enough to defuse the situation.
He loads the broken microwave oven and almost bumps into Rei. Her hair is beginning to stir, without any help from the wind, and that's usually a good sign that she's uneasy, too. Izuku chews his lip and dawdles over choosing the next piece of trash to grab. The woman must be someone All-Might knows. She doesn't look enough like him to be a relative – maybe a friend? A girlfriend? Did All-Might ever even have a girlfriend? He certainly has a lot of female fans – he's getting off track. The point is, if she's spending her afterlife following him around, then there was some kind of bond. There had to be. Rei's different; if it weren't for the fact that he could see her and hear her and talk to her, Izuku doubts she would have given him a second thought. But if this woman is important to All-Might...
Well, sitting by while she gets in trouble with a poltergeist doesn't sit right with Izuku.
He can't risk talking to Rei with All-Might so close, so he stalls a few more seconds to leave his hands free.
"Go check on her?" he signs, turning away from All-Might to hide the movements of his hands. "Make sure she's okay." His friend vanishes, and Izuku scoops up an old tire, slings it over his shoulder, and jogs back to the pickup.
The two-toned shrieking is cut off by a blood-curdling screech that churns Izuku's stomach until he has to pause to let the nausea pass, and for a few glorious seconds, silence falls. Izuku waits on bated breath, before finally the original voice takes up its haunting wail once more.
Rei materializes close by, and a few seconds later Izuku lets out a soft sigh of relief as the dark- haired woman returns to All-Might's side. She looks a little ragged and faded around the edges, but she seems all right.
"Shit," he hears her hiss. "Shit. I've gotten weak too, Toshi. Time was, I could've ended a fight like that with my pinky finger. Now I need little monster girls coming to my rescue – no offense, sweetie, thanks for that. Ow. Okay. Just gotta... stay away from that sedan. For the love of God, Toshi, stay away from that sedan."
Izuku tosses a glance over his shoulder, frowns a little, and spots the car in question. It's just as battered and disused as everything else in this shoreline junkyard, bent and warped out of shape, most of its windows smashed, and it's in the direction that the wailing is coming from. It's also just within the area All-Might set him to clean, but well out of his reach for now. At this point he'd need climbing gear just to get to it through all the rest of the trash.
The wailing breaks into a sob, just for a moment.
Izuku sets his jaw and steps in the direction of the old sedan. There's plenty of junk in the way, but he'll get there. He has to; poltergeist or not, there's someone who might need help, and he's not going to consider this job done unless he cleans that up, too.
He sets his shoulder against a broken-down washing machine, digs his heels into the sand, and keeps working.
It takes two and a half weeks for him to reach the sedan. If All-Might notices that he's moving in a specific direction, he says nothing and Izuku offers neither acknowledgment nor explanation. The woman notices, though – the woman who follows All-Might. She was always nervous, what with the continuous screaming echoing through the trash pile, but a few days before Izuku reaches the car, she realizes that he's headed straight in that direction.
She tries to stop him. For the better part of that day, Izuku works through her warning shouts on top of the screaming. He tries to signal her when All-Might's back is turned, but she never notices. And she won't try to stop him physically, because Rei growls when she gets too close.
(He thinks about taking the risk anyway. All-Might is in his skeletal true form more often than not – is he more or less observant when he isn't using his quirk?)
It comes to a head the day Izuku finally clears the path. He manages to haul away three bicycles that got warped and tangled together, and that turns out to be something of a keystone in clearing the way to the sedan. After Izuku wrestles the mess into the back of the pickup, he runs back to continue. All-Might watches and waits, gaunt enough to be drowning in the jacket he's wearing.
The path that Izuku has cleared cuts between two larger piles like a narrow valley of garbage. At
the top of the pile on the right, there's a television set balanced somewhat precariously. It looks stable enough to most, but most don't take into account the outbursts of anxious ghosts.
"One step at a time, young Midoriya," All-Might is saying as Izuku comes jogging back. "At your stage, I doubt you'll be able to move that." He nods to the broken-down sedan. "Unless, of course, you'd like to try."
"I'll get to it," Izuku says, and resists the urge to rub at his ears. The screaming is almost close enough to hurt at this point.
"No, you won't." The ghost who follows All-Might sounds all the more agitated. She blinks in and out of view, ending up perched at the top of the pile on the right. Izuku shoots her a look, but she's too upset to notice. "Stay away from there! Both of you! Toshi, I mean it!" Izuku's friend hisses back at her, and the woman's form flickers. "Can't we warn them?" she yells back. The force of her frustration rattles Izuku, and she bumps against the television set.
All-Might takes a step closer to the pile. Izuku doesn't even think about it. His hand shoots out, blocking All-Might from taking a step further. At that moment, the television teeters over, falls, and hits the sand just a few feet in front of them.
"Shit-" Izuku hears the ghost woman hiss, before Rei spider-crawls up the pile to shriek her fury right in the woman's face.
Wordlessly he crouches, lifts up the television, and staggers back to the pickup beneath its weight, while the woman's frantic apologies mingle with his friend's furious shrieks and growls.
All-Might surprises him by ruffling his hair when he gets back, and Izuku steers the cleanup away from the sedan once more.
It's only that night that he dares approach it again. Once he's eaten and finished his homework, his studying, and daily scheduled exercises, Izuku makes his way back to the beach. All-Might and his protective tagalong are nowhere to be seen. Izuku is alone except for Rei, and free to do whatever he needs.
"Stay back," he tells her. She scowls at him, and he glares back. "Stay back. I just need to talk to them."
Sand crunches beneath his shoes as he meanders his way through the garbage. The poltergeist still screams and cries, louder and louder as Izuku creeps through the path he made and approaches the broken sedan. His pace slows until he's inching forward. Step, then pause. Step, then pause. Step, then pause. Finally, Izuku can reach out and brush the bent door with his fingertips.
A pale hand, bloodied and missing two fingers, thrusts out the window, seizes him by the wrist, and yanks. Izuku catches the edge of the door, and that's all that keeps him from getting dragged through the broken window. He's still pulled to the opening, and finds himself almost nose to nose with the wailing ghost.
Her face is battered beyond recognition, her skull caved in and misshapen. Shards from the broken windshield protrude from her throat, and her scream bubbles wetly. Her other hand, mangled and half gone, grasps uselessly at his throat.
Terror rushes him, and for a split second Izuku drowns in it. It fills his chest and moves outward, buzzing just beneath his skin, filling his head like cotton.
Izuku breathes in, breathes out, and continues to do so as he waits for the fear to ebb and recede.
Dimly he can still hear the waves lapping at the beach, and he focuses on that sound. The terror washes over him the way the waves wash over the sand, and roils in his stomach for a few seconds before it finally filters out again, leaving him shaky but clear-headed.
(His friend is staying back, technically, but he feels her clutching at his jacket sleeve and hears her soft, high-pitched warning snarl.)
He coughs, swallows the lump in his throat, and shifts his weight in the sand. "Good evening. My name's Midoriya. What's yours?"
"I lost it!" His ears burn when she wails so close to them. "I lost it, I just lost it! I need to find it before it's too late!"
"I'm sorry," Izuku answers. "What did you lose?"
"He'll cut the brakes." The poltergeist sobs as blood trickles from her eyes and nose and spills freely from her mouth. "I lost the ring, and he doesn't believe me. I was just hiding – here. I hid here. He wouldn't look for me here. He called me trash so I hid with the garbage. And I lost it!"
"A ring? Here, at this beach?"
"He thought I threw it away. He thought I was leaving him." She leaves his throat alone and paws desperately at the front of his jacket. "I was driving here. To this beach. To look for it – it's here. It's somewhere. I have to find it – if I don't find it he'll think I'm leaving him and he said he'd cut the brakes if I tried to leave!"
"I'll help you," Izuku says. "I'll help, I promise. I'm cleaning up the beach. I'll look for it, and if I find it, I'll bring it to you."
"Tell him I'll look for it," the ghost pleads. "Tell him. Tell him he doesn't need to cut the brakes." "I'll help you," Izuku repeats, though it feels as if his throat is closing. "It's going to be all right.
I'll help you."
The hands on his jacket and wrist vanish. The woman vanishes. Izuku finds himself leaning against the broken sedan, staring through the smashed-in window of an empty car.
Stinging pain in his hand makes itself known. In catching himself on the door, he'd cut his palm on one of the shards left by the window. On his other hand, finger-shaped bruises encircle his wrist.
Before going to bed that night, Izuku does a quick internet search. He finds a news story from just a few months before: after a year-long trial, one Takeshi Matsumoto was convicted of murdering his fiancee by sabotaging her car. Izuku recognizes the car and its trapped driver in the photos, shuts off the computer, and sleeps about as well as you'd expect.
The poltergeist is quieter after that. That's a good thing, because that means All-Might's ghost friend is less nervous, Rei is less snappish, television sets are less likely to fall on anyone, and Izuku can focus better on the task at hand.
Or rather, the tasks.
It's entirely possible (highly improbable) that he's stumbled across the ring and thrown it away by accident already. But until he's cleaned up this beach, he has no way of knowing. Which means that, rather than clearing just a section of the horizon like All-Might told him to, he might have to
clear the entire damn thing instead.
Oh, well. He was sort of banking on that anyway. This is just extra motivation.
The only real difference it makes is that now he goes out to the beach at night as well, and helps the murdered ghost search the garbage pile for her lost ring. It always leaves him exhausted the next day, and All-Might notices.
"You're not following the plan, are you?" All-Might chides him when he collapses in the middle of a run. "Overdoing it is just as bad as not working at all, you know. If you exhaust yourself, you'll only move backwards."
"Gotta keep going," Izuku wheezes.
"Within reason, kid."
Izuku grinds his teeth. It's not like he can explain why he's working himself so hard.
"It's good to push your limits," All-Might continues. "That's the entire point of this training in the first place. But you have to know those limits, so we can adjust your abilities in time for the exam."
"Not about the exam." Izuku tries to pick himself back up, he really does. "My – I'm not – I just have to be stronger. So I can-" save people, save as many people as I can, stop murderers so people don't have to worry about cut brake lines and lost rings, stop supervillains so that people can go home and feed their pets instead of dying in hospitals, make a world where there are less ghosts for me to talk to-
He says none of that. What he does say is, "I have to be stronger. As strong as the strongest hero." He raises his head and meets All-Might's eyes, willing him to understand, but not understand too much.
A moment later, All-Might is activating his quirk and scooping him right off the ground like a tired cat. "You really are obsessive!" There's laughter in his voice. "But I can't say I don't approve. Still! Impatience with your training won't help anyone, least of all you. Not to worry, though – this old man will revise the plan for you."
"Toshi, don't give me that shit!" the ghost woman yells. "Old my ass!" In spite of everything, Izuku laughs so hard he almost pukes.
Bit by bit, the beach horizon clears. Trash and junk and litter give way to the white sand beneath, and for every heavy bag of garbage and broken appliance Izuku hauls away, the next gets lighter. He can barely remember how it feels to wake up in the morning without sore muscles, but it gets easier.
The shelter rings him up one day, tells him Ms. Yamamoto's one-eyed cat hasn't been adopted yet and may have to be transferred to a different shelter to free up space. Izuku tells his mother, and that night he falls asleep with Mika purring on his chest.
He gives the broken sedan a wide berth during the day. Izuku still hears the poltergeist cry from time to time. She never leaves the car, not during the day and not when Izuku comes at night, even when he talks to her and tries to coax her out. Maybe she can't come out.
After a while, Izuku stops trying. He won't risk getting close again, and beyond that there's only
one way he knows how to help her. So he trains, studies, cleans up the beach, and searches every day for the ring. When he's not doing any of these things, he tries to sleep.
The entrance exam creeps closer. The garbage on the beach dwindles. No rings turn up.
He cleans the beach. He works during the day with All-Might's supervision, and under the cover of darkness with his best friend, and only the moon and a flashlight to light their search. He cleans far more than All-Might asked of him, clearing the white sand and the horizon.
The entrance exam is a week away by the time Izuku can sling a broken bicycle over one shoulder and tuck a broken air conditioner under his free arm and jog both of them from the beach to the pickup at an easy pace. The ghost in the car wails and weeps day and night. Izuku thinks of her when he's studying, when he's jogging, when he's strengthening his grip under the table, and when he's lying awake at night, petting his new cat and waiting for sleep to take him.
At six in the morning, on the day of the entrance exam, Izuku stands on clear white sand and drowns out her cries by screaming his frustration at the sunrise, because he hasn't found a damn ring.
It sticks with him in the back of his mind, persistent as a mosquito in the room. He's almost glad for the excuse to punch a giant robot in the face(?) because at least that gives him a period of blessed distraction. Even if it does more or less destroy his arm and legs in the process. He comes out of Recovery Girl's presence half-certain that he's blown it all, six months of hard work down the drain, and for the first time in at least five of those months, he doesn't venture out to the beach that night.
All in all, it's really not Izuku's day.
Against all odds, he gets in.
All-Might meets him at the Screaming Beach, with the ghostly woman in tow and his hand held up for a high-five. Izuku blinks at it for a moment, bewildered, before summoning up the courage to return it. Who would he be to leave the Number One Hero hanging?
"So, um, my arm," Izuku says, trying not to talk too loudly over the wails that All-Might can't even hear. "And my legs. Was that... supposed to happen?"
"Figured it might."
"What."
All-Might's ghost friend heaves a sigh. "You could have at least warned him, Toshi."
"It can't be helped," All-Might goes on. "You're strong enough to be a vessel, but you're still a raw beginner at using it."
"Which you could have warned him about, Toshi," his ghost grouses at him. "Not everyone can be a big, beefy, man-beef like you."
Izuku manages, just barely, to disguise a stifled snort of laughter as a cough.
"Something the matter?" All-Might asks.
"Yes. No. Allergies." Izuku forces his face straight again. "So, my arm? Well, more my legs. I sort
of understand my arm, I mean I punched a huge robot in the face – I think it was the face, anyway, it was really hard to tell – but what about my legs? All I did was jump, and I completely wrecked both of them-"
"Like I was saying," All-Might interrupts. "You have a quirk now, after living your whole life without one. You're not gonna be an expert at it on Day One – because those six months don't enter into it, kid. That was your first day of possessing One For All, and that makes it Day One."
"You could've warned me," Izuku mutters.
"There wasn't the time. Besides, it worked out, didn't it?" All-Might jabs him lightly in the chest, making Izuku look him in the eye. "Remember what you told me, about being stronger? Well, you were right. You do have to be stronger. You're gonna have to work harder than any of the other students. Them, they've been living with extra limbs and laser vision and what have you all their lives. Your first hurdle's behind you, but you've still got a long way to go." He bends a little, so that they're eye to eye. "And I promise you, I will help you get there, understand?"
There's a swelling feeling in his chest as Izuku nods vigorously. Rei jostles his arm excitedly, and he tries not to let his shaking show.
"And on that note," All-Might continues, reaching into his pocket. "There's something I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you earlier, but... well, look." Izuku steps closer, and All-Might holds out a pair of photographs. They're both pictures of Izuku, a before-and-after comparison to show off his progress. In one, he's the skinny kid he remembers being. In the other, taken the morning that he finished cleaning the beach, he's filled out his own frame, replaced scrawny arms with defined musculature.
In both, his pupils are glinting red from the flash.
"I was considering fixing that," All-Might says sheepishly. "But I'm not the best with technology, I'm afraid."
"It's fine," Izuku assures him. "That kind of always happens, actually. My mom says it's a nightmare trying to get my picture taken."
"Well, if it can't be helped... not the point, in any case. Your progress speaks for itself." All-Might pauses to look him carefully in the eye. "Remember, you got to this point through your own hard work. It's gonna take more hard work to keep you moving forward from here. The stronger you become, the better handle you'll have on One For All. It will take work, and it will take time. But for now... you've earned a break. Enjoy it while it lasts, and keep your strength up. You're a Yuuei student now, and they don't let up for beginners."
"I won't let you down," Izuku blurts. "Good."
They're about to leave. The moon is high and bright, and Izuku buzzes with eager energy and glowing pride, and if it weren't for those two things, it may not have happened. It's a chance in a million, really. At precisely the right moment, Izuku turns his head to admire his handiwork of six months, and sees moonlight glint on something in the sand.
No.
No, it couldn't be.
Izuku jogs to the object, sending up sand in his wake, eyes fixed on the tiny glint of reflected moonlight. He slows as he approaches it, not wanting to kick sand over it and lose it again. He stoops, sweeps some of the sand away, and picks up a silver ring from the beach.
It's a simple band, set with a small diamond-like stone. An engagement ring, by the looks of it. It's a little dirty from lying on the beach, but it still shines.
All-Might calls to him from across the sand. "Midoriya! Everything all right?"
"Um, go on ahead!" Izuku calls back. "I'll get home fine!" He stays where he is, under the pretense of admiring the moonlight on the waves, until he's sure All-Might has gone.
He never did touch the old sedan during his cleanup. It looks a lot lonelier now than it ever did before, one last spot of litter tarnishing the horizon. Izuku comes to a halt a few feet away from the driver's side door, and holds out the ring in his palm.
Silence falls. "You found it."
Izuku turns around carefully. The weeping ghost stands in the sand, looking for a split second just as horrible and mangled as she did the first time Izuku saw her. Then he blinks, and she stands before him whole again, pale and thin in a spotless cardigan and skirt.
"You found it." Tears well up in her eyes, and she steps forward and reaches for it. "I wanted to look for it... to show him I only lost it. I wasn't leaving... he'll cut the brakes if I leave." An inch away from the ring, her hand halts. Izuku can't tell whether her form is flickering, or she really is shivering. More tears come, and her voice trembles and cracks. "Only... I don't really have to worry about that. Do I?" Blank white eyes, shining with ghost light and tears, meet Izuku's. "Because he already did."
"I'm sorry." Izuku's voice is thick from the ache in his throat. "I'm sorry he did that to you. You didn't deserve that." He glances down at the ring. "He's in jail now, you know. He didn't get away with it. He won't be able to hurt anyone else."
"Good. That's good." The woman's hand is clearly shaking now. "My name's Sachi. Thank you for finding my ring."
"Happy to help."
"I'm sorry." Sachi sniffles, and lowers her hand back to her side. "I'm sorry, I made you go through all of that trouble for nothing. I don't want it anymore."
"That's okay," Izuku says. "I don't think you need it. And it wasn't for nothing. It really wasn't."
"I can't remember – the last time somebody helped me. Just because." Sachi lifts her hand again, but only to wipe her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I won't forget this."
Izuku smiles. "I don't think I will either. I don't know if I can explain it, but you sort of helped me, too. Thank you."
Sachi doesn't reply, but she nods.
"Do you think..." Izuku's throat bobs as he swallows. "Are you going to be okay now?"
"I think... yes." Sachi smiles through her tears, and it's one of the brightest smiles Izuku's ever seen. "I think... I think I can go now. I'm okay. I'm going to be okay."
By the time Izuku blinks away the tears in his eyes, she's gone. The car is empty. The beach is silent.
He sniffles a little and wipes his eyes. A chill in the air makes him look up, to see Rei hovering nearby, beaming.
"How about you, huh?" he asks. "Think you'll ever...?"
She looks thoughtful at this, then shrugs, and flits closer to give his arm a hug. "Well, okay," Izuku says. "If you're sure."
He goes home, and his limbs are heavy but his heart is light.
Chapter 4
Izuku is no stranger to fear.
He's an expert at fear. He breathes through a pounding heart, eats through butterflies in his stomach, and sleeps through creaking doors and moaning in the walls. When fear comes knocking, he greets it like an irritating roommate and goes on with his day.
And yet, when Bakugou's glare burns a hole in the back of his head, he wants to run. When Bakugou follows him outside, he wants to hide. When Bakugou grabs him by the shoulder and shoves him up against a wall, he wants to curl up and wait for him to go away. But he can't, not with Bakugou holding him upright. So instead, Izuku feels himself freeze up again. Rei tries to drag Bakugou away from him, but it won't work. It never does. The noises around him sound oddly muffled, as if he's wearing ear plugs, but it's not enough to block out what Bakugou is saying.
"What dirty goddamn trick did you use to pass the exam? Answer me, you little shit!"
Izuku doesn't answer. He can't, not when his tongue is locked in his mouth. It's all he can do just to stare dumbly at Bakugou's face. It won't happen. He won't do it. There's no way for him to do it even if he wanted to. And he won't. I'll he'll do is yell at me like he always does. It won't happen. It won't.
"-you fucking listening to me? I was supposed to be the first to get into Yuuei from this shitty school! And you pissed all over that!"
Izuku stares at him, silent and frozen and as blank as TV static. He won't do it again. It won't happen. Bakugou's grip on his shoulder is tight enough to bruise, just like the ghost on the beach – the beach where he trained, where he bled and puked and sweated for six months until the day of the exam. The mantra fades, and frustration puts new thoughts in his head. It wasn't a trick. It was me. I earned it. All-Might said so. It's not about you. It wasn't a trick.
"I told you to go someplace else, you fuck!" Bakugou shakes him roughly, and the back of Izuku's head knocks against the wall behind him.
My friends are scarier than you are.
Izuku locks eyes with Bakugou again, unblinking, all his senses muffled. "Does it make you feel big?" he asks.
And Bakugou is the first to blink.
"What-"
"Does it make you feel big, to hurt someone who won't fight back?"
Bakugou's eyes narrow. His lips curl, showing his clenched teeth. "What the fuck are you talking about-"
"Does it make you feel strong, beating on kids who don't have quirks?" Part of him, a small part, is screaming at him to shut up before he makes Bakugou angry enough to hit him. But what will that do? It's just a hit. All it can do is leave a bruise or make him bleed. "Does it make you feel brave, when they're scared of you?"
"Shut the fuck up," Bakugou snarls, and Izuku sees sparks and smoke in the hand that grips his shoulder.
The worst – the very worst he can do to you, is kill you by accident.
"You'll have to," Izuku says without thinking.
"I'll have to what?" Bakugou spits back.
"Kill me. If you want to stop me." All-Might smiles to trick the fear inside him, so Izuku smiles at Bakugou. "If you don't, then I'm going to Yuuei." Izuku watches Bakugou's eyes in the same way he'd watch the lights of an oncoming train. "Or do you just want me to cry, Bakugou? Will that make you feel big?"
Bakugou lets go.
It's weird – for a moment it's like Bakugou hasn't even noticed he's let go. But he does, and he seems almost surprised when it happens.
Movement returns to Izuku's legs, and he slides away from the wall and out of Bakugou's reach. He doesn't run. He walks, and Bakugou doesn't follow.
Times like these make Izuku painfully aware of how fundamentally useless his quirk is.
Not One For All – One For All is cool and amazing and exactly what he needs to become a pro hero. Or, at least, it will be once he figures out how to use it without completely obliterating his arms and legs. That's a habit he'd rather break as soon as possible.
But he hasn't yet, which is a problem when the first order of business on the first day of school turns out to be a quirk assessment test, and he's liable to get kicked out if he scores low enough. Since he's not interested in ending his first day of school with a trip to the hospital, he's going to have to make do with what he had before One For All.
But, as Izuku has long accepted since he was old enough and sufficiently self-aware to navel-gaze about his own quirk, seeing ghosts isn't going to help him run fast, jump high, or do more squats. So hopefully, his six months of grueling training will pan out and keep him from getting expelled on his first day.
The school athletic field is abuzz with conversation, and not just from his chattier classmates. There are ghosts here, not necessarily tied to the place or haunting anyone, but simply passing through and watching the world around them. As Izuku bounces on the balls of his feet and waits for the tests to start, he happens to glance over and see Rei standing at the sidelines, pale and washed out against the bright green turf, watching him through a part in her hair like she's peeking through a curtain.
Izuku checks his peripherals to make sure no one notices, and flashes her a quick smile and a wave. She perks up, lifting her head so that more of her hair falls away from her face, and bounces a little as she waves back.
"Hey, did you see that? Did he just wave?" Izuku almost panics, but relaxes when the speaker turns out to be another ghost drifting by, a teenager with a hole in his temple that still leaks blood. "Hey, little girl. Did that guy just wave at you?" She nods vigorously. "Holy shit. Can he – can he see us?"
Oh, why not. Izuku locks eyes with the ghost, grins, and winks. The guy's face lights up like it's New Year's Eve.
Word travels fast among the dead. Before long, Izuku has a little audience at the sidelines. Rei is still at the front, watching eagerly as the quirk assessment tests begin.
He wishes he could have given a better account of himself in front of them, he really does. By all accounts, he should have been able to. Sixth months of training was hardly nothing, right? He's been eating better, strengthening himself at almost every available moment, building up his stamina to levels he never dared dream of before. But for every test, every race, every assessment of every possible athletic ability under the sun, there is always someone better. There is always someone, or two, or three or more, whose quirks are perfect for blowing his attempts out of the water. Iida's speed lets him dominate the sprint. Uraraka's gravity manipulation makes the long jump a joke. Satou does push-ups like a man possessed (so to speak).
Izuku, in the meantime, has... an extra cheering section that no one else can see. That's...
Well, it's not nothing.
"Hey, buddy, you're doing great!"
"Yeah, c'mon, kid, keep your chin up! You're faster than I ever was back when I had lungs!" "Don't give up!"
"Did you see those other two? You left 'em in your dust! Keep it up!"
Rei hops up and down, though her feet never actually touch the ground. Her hair twists in an unseen wind and reveals light-swallowing black pits for eyes, and her cheering sounds a little bit like a Ringwraith, but it's still a nice feeling. The voices of the dead drown out Bakugou's jeering, and let him focus on something that's not Aizawa's cold stare.
In spite of himself, Izuku smiles. His power might not be good for hero work, but it's nice for not feeling alone sometimes.
Still, his stomach turns as he picks up a ball for the pitching test. He's almost done with the tests. Maybe what he really needs to do is go all out, just once. He hasn't gotten the chance to show off his quirk (his second one, at least) and he's not sure the rest of the tests are good for showing off One For All. Maybe if he blows everything now, it'll still be okay. Maybe all he has to do is get Aizawa's attention and prove that he can at least do something. That's what the point of this assessment is, isn't it? Showing him where he is, in terms of power?
It's worth a shot, at least. And by that, it means it's the only thing Izuku can think of.
One shot of One For All, and he'll probably be out for the count but at least he'll have made some kind of an impression.
The ghosts whoop loudly as his throwing arm ripples with energy. Izuku winds up for the pitch,
focuses on the cheering, and-
Silence.
Izuku is is about to swing his arm for the throw when the voices egging him on vanish. The feeling of cotton-thickness in his ears makes him look up, searching the sidelines for what might have made the ghosts go quiet, and finds himself staring at empty grass. The ghosts are gone, and Rei – his mute, terrifying nightmare of a best friend, who's hardly strayed from his side since he was seven years old – is nowhere to be seen. The only people left watching are his living, breathing classmates, and there are nineteen of them plus one homeroom teacher but the athletic field feels suddenly so very empty.
The shock of silence, of the split-second powerful feeling of being alone, breaks Izuku's concentration. He loses his grip on One For All, which throws off the weight of the pitch. The ball sails forward about twenty meters before bouncing pitifully on the ground.
For a moment, panic rushes through Izuku with such force and volume that he can't even react beyond a blank stare. The ghosts left? Why would they leave? They didn't just lose interest and decide to, they vanished in the middle of yelling encouragement. And why would Rei leave? Did something happen to them? Could something happen to ghosts?
"I erased your quirk." Aizawa's voice cuts through his numb, mute shock, and he startles like a rabbit and doesn't quite manage to muffle a quiet noise of alarm. Among his classmates, someone giggles.
"W-what?" His heart beats frantically, and Izuku distantly recognizes the fluttery pain in his chest, and the heavy pit in his stomach, as nothing short of fear.
(Isn't it backwards that he's frightened because of the absence of ghosts?)
Aizawa's starting to look like a ghost himself, with the pale face and red-rimmed eyes and dark hair rising as if on an unseen wind. Izuku takes in the scarf, the goggles, and the strange quirk, and the realization of just who his homeroom teacher is hits him full force.
"You have no idea how to use your quirk properly, do you?" Eraserhead says coldly, stepping forward. His scarf ripples around him as if it has a life of its own. "What, did you believe someone would save you if you crippled yourself again?"
Bad judgment call bad judgment call should've stuck with the original plan-
The scarf wraps around him, jerking him forward, and another flash of panic turns his vision white for a moment. Fight or flight instinct kicks in, and as Aizawa's voice fades to the background of his own thunderous pulse in his ears, Izuku manages to glance down at his own hand. He twitches his finger experimentally, and is rewarded by a spark of One For All in his fingertip.
He erased my quirk, he realizes through the pounding in his ears. But he erased the wrong one. "Face it, Midoriya Izuku." Aizawa's voice, flat and cold, brings him out of his panic and back to
the present. "With a power like that, you'll never become a hero."
A moment passes, and Aizawa's hair falls back into his face, Izuku's ears pop as the voices of the dead return and he oh wow that's where she went.
Rei is no longer watching at the sidelines. Her face is no longer pale, her eyes no longer dark. It's like the color has been reversed – her entire form, from her skin to her nightdress to her hair, is the kind of black that swallows light and lets nothing reflect back. The only whiteness left is in the eerie pale light that shines out of her eyes and her mouth (mouths are not supposed to be that way, lips are not supposed to stretch that wide, sweet little girls are not supposed to have fangs that bristle like dark thorns against the glow). Her writhing tendrils of hair put the scarf to shame as they whip and slither around his teacher's arms and throat, and her fingers stretch and curve into hard, spindly claws to rake at him. Her mouth stretches wide like a crocodile, and she gives vent to her fury inches from Aizawa's face. Izuku's ears burn with her screaming, and her rage presses him like a hot iron.
Aizawa blinks slowly at him. "Something the matter?"
"Let go," Izuku blurts out before he can stop himself. Aizawa raises an eyebrow at him. "I mean, um. Please? You should probably... so I can... throw. The ball."
Aizawa looks bored, but he complies and turns away to watch by the sidelines again. It's not until the scarf is well away from Izuku that Rei gives one final shriek, swipes at the back of Aizawa's head, and backs off. The darkness fades, and a pale little girl stands at Izuku's side once more.
He can't stop shaking.
Did he give himself away? Did Aizawa notice? How the hell is he going to get through this one? Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe All-Might will speak up for him. Maybe instead of getting expelled, he'll be transferred to a different class. That'd be okay. That'd be–
Cold fingers close around his free hand. Izuku twitches in surprise and looks down to see his friend clutching at his hand with both of hers, staring up at him with wide, concerned eyes. She makes a soft humming noise, like the distant buzz of flies.
The shaking stops. Izuku takes a deep breath, manages a smile, and tries, as surreptitiously as he can, to give her hands a comforting squeeze.
It must have been scary for her too, if he suddenly couldn't see her.
He glances to the sidelines to find the crowd of ghosts right where they were last, watching and waiting eagerly. None of them have left.
Well. Whatever the outcome, he might as well give them something worth seeing. Izuku's fingers curl around the ball, and he remembers how he brought a spark of One For All just to his fingertip. An idea forms in his head, and it might be just crazy enough to work.
He can finish the rest of the tests with just nine fingers, can't he?
It's been so long since Nana last walked Yuuei's halls. The feeling is nostalgic, almost painfully so, and it's this and only this that makes leaving Toshi's side bearable.
Ever since the fight with All For One six years back, ever since her faithful successor came within a hair's breadth of joining her, Nana has kept as close to Toshi's side as possible. It's easy; she needs neither sleep nor food nor rest of any kind, and she has existed for long enough that patience is a trifle. Usually, straying too far from him brings a rising note of panic that can't be calmed by anything but rushing back to his side, checking and double checking that he hasn't died while her back was turned.
He seems so desperately fragile now. He's a grown man, of course, weathered and beaten by years of hero work, but no matter how much time passes, part of her will never see anything but the gawky, bright-eyed teenager he was when she first laid eyes on him.
And oh, how he has grown, and gained a student of his own into the bargain.
But for now, Yuuei feels safe. She hasn't felt this calm and at ease since the last time she set foot in her graveyard and looked upon the earth beneath which she was buried. Yuuei feels like home, and for the first time in many years, Nana feels all right about wandering away from Toshi. There's hardly any danger in him creeping down to watch Aizawa teach his first class of the year. So she drifts through the place on her own, peeking into classrooms and labs, exploring the school where she came into her own.
It's different in many ways, and in many others it hasn't changed a bit.
She loses track of time, and before she knows it, the day is over and she's ended up circling back to the nurse's office. Hopefully Toshi hasn't left yet – probably not. She can catch up fairly easily if he has. Nana turns to leave, just as the door to the nurse's office opens and shuts.
"Oh! Um, excuse me," a voice says behind her, but she's too focused to bother eavesdropping on a conversation that has nothing to do with her anyway.
Rapid footsteps follow her. "W-wait! Um, miss? Excuse me?"
A child blocks her way, and Nana would skid to a halt if her feet actually touched the ground. It's the little ghost again, the eerie dark-haired girl that follows faithfully in Midoriya Izuku's shadow. She's smiling, and it's all teeth.
"Excuse me," the now-familiar voice says once more, and Nana glances back to see what the fuss is all about–
–and meets Midoriya's eyes dead-on.
The moment she's looking at him, his face breaks out in a freckled smile. He speaks to her. "Hello."
Nana shrieks, taking out one of the fluorescent light panels in the ceiling. Without meaning to, she ends up halfway down the hall from him in the blink of an eye. The child ghost laughs, and it sounds like static on a broken television.
"S-sorry!" Midoriya jogs to catch up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?" "Ebbuh," is the first thing Nana Shimura ever says to her successor's student.
His smile softens, and he checks over both shoulders before addressing her again. "I get that a lot. Sorry I didn't talk to you sooner, it's just that the past few months have been really busy and you were always really close to All-Might, so it was kind of a mix of me being tired and distracted and just never getting the chance. But I'm glad I caught you now." He holds out his hand. "It's nice to meet you! I'm Midoriya Izuku, but I uh, think you know that already. What's your name?"
Nana gapes at him for another solid fifteen seconds before she finds her voice again. "It's – um, I'm – it's Shimura. Shimura Nana. What-"
"Do you need help with anything?"
Whatever Nana was expecting him to say, that wasn't it. "I'm sorry?"
"Do you need any help?" Midoriya repeats, letting his hand drop to his side again. "It's fine either way, it's just, y'know, I usually just. Offer. I mean, do you need me to pass a message? Or find something? Or... are you good?"
"I could really use an explanation, actually," Nana says faintly. "Um. How?"
Midoriya opens his mouth to reply, then glances back at the nurse's office. "Not here. It's not safe,
I don't think. Is it okay if we take this outside?"
For a moment Nana's about to say yes, absolutely, let's go outside and please explain to me literally everything, but then she remembers the time and her self-imposed duty. "You know what, hold that thought, I need to go back to – to All-Might." Damn, she thinks. Damn, damn, damn, how many times has she addressed Toshi by name in the boy's presence? "So I need to go, but later, definitely later, we will have a, a conversation. Of some sort."
"Sure thing!" Midoriya beams at her. "Maybe we can talk tomorrow, Ms. Shimura? I'll try to stay clear of the nurse's office so we have the chance. Have a good evening, then." And he trots off, pretty as you please, with a stringy-haired ghost girl drifting in his wake.
She stares after him, gobsmacked, long after he's left. "What the shit."
Chapter 5
No one had ever bothered to tell Toshinori that teaching was going to be this... complicated.
From the receiving end, it all seemed so simple. He went in with an empty head, and his teachers filled it. He got things wrong, and they set him rught.
But being a teacher, as it turns out, is far more complicated than being a pro hero.
The Heroes Vs. Villains exercise is, in his humble opinion, a relative success. He's already gotten a handle on his students' various quirks from watching Aizawa's class the previous day, but now he has a better feel for them as potential combatants. There's a world of difference, after all, between seeing them use their quirks to raise their athletic scores, and seeing them use their quirks in a conflict.
In spite of the overall success of his first class, he spends most of the day pushing aside the little twist of unease in his gut. The first match bothers him, and continues to do so throughout the day. Young Iida and Uraraka seem to be all right, and their performance was exemplary. But as for the other two...
Midoriya spends the rest of class in the nurse's office, and Toshinori catches it from Recovery Girl when he ducks in to check on his student and hide after his time runs out.
"Why did you let them go so far?" she scolds him. "It's the second day of school, and this is the third time he's been in here!"
"My apologies-"
"It's not me you should be apologizing to!" Recovery Girl's eyes nearly squinch shut, she's glaring
at him so hard. "What on earth were you thinking?"
"I..." Toshinori's voice trails off, and he turns his head to look at Midoriya. His right arm is a mess, limp and slightly misshapen, dark with bruises where bandages don't cover it. One For All is a miracle of a quirk, but it abuses any wielder who isn't ready for it. For Toshinori, it puts a strain on his wasted form that leaves him retching blood. For Midoriya, one flick breaks his bones.
And yes, he had an inkling that it would end this way, when he was observing. But after how the match had started, Toshinori hadn't the heart to force the boy to end it on such a note.
"I was thinking I'd made a bit of an error," Toshinori says at length.
"Oh, an error," Recovery Girl says acidly. "And when did that occur to you? Before or after he finished things by shattering every bone in his right arm?"
"Shortly after the match started," Toshinori replies. Recovery Girl blinks, and for a moment her anger gives way to surprise.
"Oh?"
"It's possible that the first mistake I made was assigning those particular teams to oppose each other," he explains. "The selection was random and I didn't know – I'd assumed they were friends, after..." He shakes his head. "Midoriya certainly never said anything."
"All-Might," Recovery Girl says with forced patience. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"It's... difficult to explain."
The match started not with a punch, but a grab. Bakugou ambushed them with an explosion, and the second Midoriya was within range , reached out and closed his hand around Midoriya's upper arm.
Toshinori expected to see it come to blows. He expected Midoriya to hit back, or worse, for Bakugou to activate his quirk while still holding him. The boy was a bit of a hothead, after all.
But the moment Bakugou's hand was on him, Midoriya stopped moving.
That wasn't right – Bakugou was strong, certainly, but he was only holding one part of him. Midoriya wasn't trapped, not by a long shot.
Toshinori searched the surveillance cameras, hunting for a better angle than the back of his successor's head, but there was none. Damn it all, if only he could see the boy's face!
"Thought so." Bakugou's voice was smug when Toshinori heard it over the students' communicators. "What's the matter, Deku? I thought you had a quirk now. You still gonna freeze up like a corpse?"
Uraraka's voice rang out, high and worried. "Deku! Deku, what's the matter?" Her tone turned accusing. "What did you do to him?"
"Nothing. Don't need to do anything to him. Too bad you got saddled with him as a partner – what, you didn't know he folds like a wet fucking towel every time somebody grabs him?"
And that's not true, Toshinori thought. He'd taken the boy by the shoulder multiple times. He'd seen the other students do it – he even saw Aizawa trap him just the day before. But never before has he seen young Midoriya simply stop moving.
" Useless Deku's a weak nerd," Bakugou added . "Always has been ."
Uraraka save d the day then, by losing her temper and shouting.
"You leave him alone, you big bully!"
Midoriya jolted as if jerked awake, twisting out of Bakugou's grip. "Not useless-" He leaped back in a retreat, yelling at Uraraka to run. Bakugou lunged again, poised to throw a punch–
This time, Midoriya was ready. It was all Toshinori could do to keep from cheering when he threw Bakugou over his shoulder – mustn't play favorites, must remain impartial. And then Uraraka was gone and Izuku was off and running again.
"You've been lying your ass off this entire time, haven't you?" Bakugou shouted after him hoarsely. "All this time you've had a quirk, and you've been feeding everyone bullshit! Get back here, Deku!"
Over the frequency, Toshinori could have sworn he heard a strangled sob.
"I certainly didn't intend to, but I shouldn't have set them against each other so soon," Toshinori says at length. "I don't know details, but they seem to have a bit of a history. I think young
Midoriya had to, ah, resolve some things." His brow furrows. "Exorcising old ghosts, I suppose." On the cot, Midoriya mutters and stirs, but does not awaken.
"Well, that's all well and good." Recovery Girl harrumphs a little. "But if he's to be your successor, All-Might, then you mustn't indulge him when he puts life and limb on the line so early in his development."
"...Well he did win," Toshinori points out.
"Not without destroying half a building and every bone in his arm!" she snaps. "All-Might, you should know better than to let a boy so young into such a dangerous practice fight when he's emotionally vulnerable!"
"If I'd known-"
"You didn't. But it's no excuse not to exercise good judgment." Her glare softens, but only slightly. "You're a teacher now, All-Might. And in that respect you're as much a raw beginner as he is. You have a responsibility to children, not just yourself or some nebulous ideal of peace. You won't get this done by cracking heads and following your heart – it's time you learned to use some sense, dear."
And so, Toshinori gives it a try. His emotions, his impulses, and his gut feelings are pushing him to side with his successor, to eye young Bakugou with distrust and suspicion and get to the bottom of things through Midoriya's side of the story and his side only. But his sense reminds him of the frozen, helpless look on young Bakugou's face after the match ended. His common sense, quiet and meek but irritatingly right, tells him that Bakugou's swollen pride does not call for disdain, but correction. He is a boy like any other; he needs to be helped in his shortcomings, not simply punished for them.
He catches up to the boy as Bakugou trudges down the school's front steps, accidentally scaring the life out of him if the boy's yell is any indication. Whoops, better back it up, mustn't scare him off before he's had the chance to say anything.
"Bakugou!" he begins. "I'll tell you this once! Self-confidence is indeed a vital thing, and you're not mistaken in thinking you have talent befitting a pro! But from here on out-"
Bakugou surprises him by rounding on him and yelling back. "Well FAT LOT OF GOOD THAT DID ME, RIGHT?"
Toshinori wastes a moment tripping over his train of thought. "Er."
"Oh, wonderful." Sarcasm drips from Bakugou's voice. "I have talent. How much talent do I have
if Deku read me like a goddamn book and made me look like an idiot in front of the entire class?"
Who on earth is Deku, is the first thought that comes to mind, before he remembers Bakugou shouting it earlier, and the kanji that spell his successor's given name and... oh... well that's not very nice. "Come now, does it bother you so much?" he asks. "It shouldn't, you know. It's your second day, and you have much to learn-"
"You don't know him!" Bakugou snaps, teeth bared in a grimace. It looks like anger, but that's only a mask, and it's a rapidly fraying one. The boy has tasted defeat, and it frightens him. "I've known him my entire fucking life, and he's a weakling! He's always been a weakling! He's never had a quirk, and now suddenly he's-" His words trail off into noises of incoherent frustration.
Understanding dawns then, and he places his hands on his hips. "And now suddenly," Toshinori
finishes for him. "He's beaten you at something." Bakugou's eyes flash.
"Like it or not," Toshinori says. "He's beaten you. You lost today, and unless I miss my guess, you will lose quite a lot by the time you graduate."
"He must have cheated," Bakugou hissed. "He cheated, or he's been tricking me this whole time-"
"And if he has, what difference would it make?" Toshinori asks. "You saw the rest of the matches, same as I did. What do you think of your new classmates, my boy?"
His student doesn't answer aloud, but he draws his shoulders up and clenches his fists until his quirk pops like a handful of bang snaps. Toshinori can almost hear his jaw creak. After a moment, Bakugou's answer comes out, muffled and tight and addressed toward the ground. "Can't beat them."
"That's because, young Bakugou, you are starting from the bottom," Toshinori informs him. "Same as the rest of them. Your pride will get you nowhere. I don't know what anyone else has been telling you, but this is Yuuei, the alma mater of half the top heroes in the country. You aren't special here."
That gets a rise out of him. "Well so what!" Bakugou bursts out, and his eyes snap up to Toshinori's face. "You haven't seen anything yet! He just beat me once! That's all there is to it! And that ponytail girl and the ice guy – fuck it, it doesn't matter! I don't care how strong anyone else is, 'cause I'm gonna get stronger!" His eyes narrow as they meets Toshinori's. "I'm gonna surpass them, and then I'm gonna surpass you, too. I'm gonna vault straight over you as the top hero."
Toshinori blinks. Heavens, he sure told me. For a moment he hunts for a proper reply, for some pearl of educational wisdom to bestow on the boy, but his mind is blank. In the end, all he can say is, "I look forward to it."
The conversation ends there, leaving Bakugou to return home and Toshinori to wander back to the teacher's lounge to power down and sift through his thoughts. He's already pushed himself past his limits in order to appear to Bakugou, and he can't risk being seen by his other students in his emaciated state, so he probably won't have time to catch Midoriya for a talk before the boy goes home for the day.
Did he do that right? He didn't mess that up, did he? It didn't feel like a screw-up.
Time will tell, he decides eventually. He's lit a fire under young Bakugou, that's for sure. He only hopes it was the right thing to do, and that he has the chance to do the same for Midoriya and all the rest of them.
"What's with you?" Aizawa asks as he passes him on the couch. "Teaching is hard."
"Ha," Aizawa laughs, but it doesn't sound like a laugh. "Ha. Ha. Welcome to hell, Number One. You have no one to blame but yourself."
Nana is equal parts irritated and impressed.
As it happens, Midoriya doesn't quite manage to stay out of that nurse's office. In fact, Nana ends up waiting for him to emerge for the entire day before he finally shows his face in the hallway again.
"Nice take-down back there," she says, and is a little disappointed when he barely acknowledges her, rather than jumping like she hoped he would. His ever-present ghost girl sidekick must have warned him somehow. "Too bad about what you had to do to grab that win, holy shit, kid, be more careful. You keep throwing One For All around like that and you're gonna turn your skeleton into oatmeal before the year's out." If she speaks to him with a level of gusto, she can hardly be blamed. This is the first time in years that she's been able to be witty in front of a live audience. To her immense disappointment, he continues to barely acknowledge that she's there as he keeps walking. Worried, Nana flits to catch up.
"Hey, come on now," she says, eyeing the sling that currently graces his arm. "I didn't mean anything by it. Hey. Kiddo. I didn't just imagine you seeing me yesterday, did I?"
"Oh, uh. No. Sorry." He has the grace to look sheepish, and as he heads back toward his classroom she notices that he's taking the long way back.
"You're gonna be late," she points out.
"I'm already late," he says, sounding too tired to force cheerfulness into his voice.
Ever persistent, Nana ducks around to get a better look at his face. It's blank as an empty chalkboard, but there's a tightness to his jaw that warrants investigation. "What's the matter? It was a tough fight back there, but you still technically won."
Glassy green eyes turn to her briefly before returning to the floor ahead of him. "I know." "You're dawdling on the way back, too. How come?"
He mumbles something.
"Speak up, kiddo, my ears are way up here."
"I don't want to see Bakugou."
"The firecracker kid? Him?" Nana tries to nudge him playfully. "C'mon, Midoriya, you've already proven yourself. I mean sure, it was a rough start. You froze up – it happens. Doesn't mean you didn't flip him like an omelet, too."
"I don't want to talk to him."
This is getting her nowhere. Nana sighs heavily. "Suit yourself, I guess. You still up to talk to me, then?"
"Oh, right!" He blinks and perks up again, smiling at her, though she questions how genuine it is. "So... you had questions yesterday?"
"I have every question." Nana shakes her head. "First off, how is this even happening? How are we having this conversation? You're alive, I'm dead. But you see me. How?"
"How do you think?"
She gives him a sour look.
"Sorry, I shouldn't be flippant." Midoriya gingerly adjusts the sling. "Well, short answer is, it's my quirk."
The answer doesn't exactly surprise Nana, but it still twists at her gut – or whatever it is ghosts have. "...Which you said you didn't have, six months ago," Nana points out, her tone biting. Her pity and worry are fading fast.
Midoriya looks away, then at the floor again. "...Yeah."
Nana tries to keep her voice even, but she can't quite manage it. She's a little pissed, and why wouldn't she be? This kid put on his sad, wobbly eyes and fed Toshi some pile of poor-little- quirkless bullshit while keeping him in the dark about the truth. Who does he think he is? "You lied to him," she says sharply.
"Don't take it personally. I lie to everyone."
For a moment Nana's distracted from her line of questions. She's only observed him from afar, but what she's seen of Midoriya has proven him, at least in her eyes, to be... well... not quite sunshine incarnate, but pretty damn close. But right now, he sounds almost... she doesn't want to use the word "bitter". It's not cynical either. Acerbic, maybe? Dry? Tired?
...Those dark circles under his eyes certainly haven't budged.
Nana sighs, more irritated than angry. "I don't like that you lied to him," she says at length. "But I can sort of understand why, with a power like that." She looks at him again. "Still, I heard everything you said about how much it sucks being quirkless, and I believe you. So it seems to me like you're missing out on a lot of attention, not shouting a quirk like that from the rooftops." She pretends not to see him tense. "At the very least you'd probably get that bomber kid to shut up a little."
"No." It's forceful enough that it almost echoes in the hallway, and the poltergeist girl gives a low hiss. "I..." Midoriya shakes his head suddenly, as if clearing it. "It's not that I don't want to. I do want to. But I can't. It's not like anyone would believe me anyway."
"You can't know that-"
"Except I can." Midoriya's uninjured hand curls into a fist. "There're these shows, these stupid TV shows. With psychics, you know?"
"Oh," Nana says acidly. "Those."
"Right? I mean, some of it's real. The minor psychic stuff like mind-reading is real. Most of it's just people with weaker quirks and a lot of showmanship, and that stuff's fine, it's harmless. But then – then you have people who say they have a quirk like mine, and... well, they have audiences, but it's mostly just people laughing at them, or at the people who believe them." Midoriya stops and turns to her. "And I've watched them. All of them. Every episode, even the ones in other countries. My mom thinks I'm crazy for liking that junk, but I don't like it, I just... I keep thinking maybe..." A flicker of desperate sadness crosses his face and vanishes in the next instant. "But it's never for real. They use Ouija boards and seances and stuff like that, and they're either talking to thin air or the ghosts are laughing at them." He pauses, puddling up, and wipes at his eyes with his good hand. "A-and I know that if I try to tell anyone, that's what they'll remember. Just – liars on TV. So I can't tell anyone. Not even All-Might." He meets her eyes, and whatever disapproval still lingering in her vanishes in the face of how much he's absolutely breaking her heart. He looks impossibly young and small and alone. "I'm sorry I lied to him. It – it feels like cheating, having
two quirks."
Nana tries to hold her stern look for a few more seconds, and finally sighs with a shake of her head. "Well... don't worry about having two," she says. "God knows you have a lot to worry about, but that's not worth losing sleep over. It's not cheating, and you're not the first."
She knows she's not imagining the note of relief in the way his shoulders slump. "It's pretty useless anyway," he says. "I mean, for a licensed hero. All I can do is just... see and feel things that can't affect anyone else. It's not like I can fight with it, or heal with it. So it's not too much of an advantage. I'm still doing this under my own power."
Nana smiles at him with a good old trademark superhero grin, and together they start walking again. "That's the spirit. Next question, who's your friend?"
Midoriya glances at the ghost girl. "Oh, her? This is Rei. I mean, I don't know what her real name is, she's never told me, so I just call her Rei and she seems fine with it." The girl beams, as if the nickname is a well-beloved present that she likes to show off. "I met her when I was seven. She hid in my closet and tried to scare me, so I shared my toys with her, and we've been friends ever since. I don't know if she has any unfinished business, but she seems like she's fine with just following me around for now." Rei nods vigorously, dark hair spilling over her face. "She can come out of TVs like Sadako."
"I... see."
"One time I was ignoring her so she came out of my 3DS."
"...Neat." Nana clears her throat awkwardly. "And, last question for now, but you asked me yesterday if I needed help with anything?"
Midoriya perks up again at that. "Yeah! Do you?"
"Nnnnot that I can think of, I was just wondering what you meant by that."
"It's that way for a lot of ghosts," Midoriya explains. "Sometimes the only reason why they stay is because they really, really need to do something that they didn't get to do before they died. Like, one last thing they need to tell someone, or they lost something, or there's a problem they know how to fix and they just need an extra set of hands. That's why I always ask whenever I meet a new ghost. Sometimes I can help. Or sometimes they just need someone to talk to who isn't another ghost."
Nana stares at him, momentarily speechless. "That's... an awful lot for such a young kid to be taking on."
"Yeah but I can do it." Midoriya shrugs. "Maybe I'm the only one who can do it. So I'm going to. And I meet a lot of interesting people, which is nice because I never really had any friends before I came to Yuuei. I mean, none that were alive, at least." He hesitates, frowning a little. "That's one of the reasons I want to be a hero. I help people who're already dead all the time. I'd like to stop someone from dying for a change."
Nana watches his face, and can't help but shake her head wonderingly. She laughs a little. "What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking." Nana grins. "You're one weird-ass kid, but I think Toshi made a good choice with you." Realizing her slip, she looks away and mentally kicks herself. "Uh. I mean All-Might."
Nana keeps looking forward, but she feels the kid's eyes on her. He's a curious one, she realizes with a jolt. A curious kid and an All-Might fan, which is not a good combination for a kid who can see and hear her.
"Soooo, you know All-Might?" Midoriya asks.
Nana heaves a sigh. "Yes I do, but I think you already knew that, which makes that question a little redundant, don't you think?"
"Uh. Yeah."
"I'm gonna do something unfair," Nana continues, halting in the hallway to turn and face him. "But I need to ask you not to lob questions at me about this. There are – there are things that I don't think he's ready to talk about yet, and I'm a ghost, kid. I'm dead as a doornail and that means–" She has to pause a moment when the words stop coming. "That means I'm not in his story anymore. I've kept his secrets because it's been impossible for me to do otherwise, but now that it is possible, I'd still like to keep them. He'll tell you these things when he's ready, I hope, so don't squeeze me for information before then."
"That's... not unfair," Midoriya says. "And I won't. I promise. Um. But I will say, um, I know it must be kind of lonely, following him when he can't see you or hear you, so. If you ever, I don't know. Need someone to talk to? Even if it's just... the weather, or a joke you heard. I'll totally – it's just an offer. You don't have to. I just thought I'd say..." His voice trails off awkwardly.
Nana chuckles again, shaking her head. "Hell. That's one kind heart you've got, Midoriya. Don't you let anyone beat that out of you, got it?"
"Oh, uh, of course."
"Well, good talk. I'd better go. See you 'round, kid." Nana turns to leave. "Wait, um, Ms. Shimura?"
She pauses. "Yes?"
"I did have one question, and um, you don't have to answer it if you don't want to." Midoriya shifts from foot to foot awkwardly. "But... you mentioned One For All, so you must at least know something about it. And I was just wondering if you knew about it before you died? And how much you know about it? Because if the answer's yes, and a lot, then maybe you could, I dunno, give me some tips?" He cradles his mangled arm. "So this doesn't keep happening."
She considers this for a moment. The teacher in her didn't always exist; Toshi put it there, and now Nana can feel it clamoring to get out. The urge to sweep this little guy under her wing and tell him absolutely everything she knows about One For All is strong. But...
"I really can't," she says reluctantly.
He gives her an utterly crestfallen look. "Can't or won't?"
"Shouldn't," she replies. "Like I said, there are... things I can't talk about, without mentioning things that I know Tosh – All-Might will tell you when he's ready. Or when you're ready." She gives him a rueful look. "I'm dead, kiddo. He's your teacher, not me."
"Well... if you're sure..." Midoriya's looking at her like he's a puppy that Nana's leaving in a soggy cardboard box on the side of the road. "Are you sure you couldn't just, I don't know, give
me a hint?"
Nana closes her eyes and asks someone for patience. She shouldn't do this. She shouldn't usurp a
position that isn't hers anymore – a position that she threw away like an idiot.
Still, though... puppy eyes were always a weakness of hers, and Midoriya's wielding them with
lethal precision.. Maybe just a hint? A little nudge?
"Well..." she says at length. "I'm not sure if I can tell you about One For All, but I guess I could give you a nudge in the right direction. Hmm... Gran could help you." She smiles, inwardly congratulating herself. Gran could certainly help him. Midoriya might not enjoy how, but he didn't specify an easy way.
Best let the living handle this one. "Gran?" Midoriya echoes.
"As in Torino. Old friend of All-Might's." Nana winks broadly at him. "He's as strong a pro as you could ever ask for, but he's a cagey old dog and hard to find, and he won't lift a finger unless he thinks it's worth it."
"Then how do I get him to help me?" Midoriya presses. "I've never even heard of anyone by that name."
"That's just how he operates. All you need to do is find a way to get his attention – I have a feeling he'll know what's up when he sees it." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "Sports Festival should do it, so you have some time to find your rhythm."
"I'm not sure..." Midoriya glances down at his mangled arm again. "It took me six months just to get strong enough to take One For All in the first place. The Sports Festival-"
"-isn't just about who packs the biggest punch," Nana interrupts, before she can stop herself. "Thank your lucky stars it isn't, kid, or else you'd have to sledgehammer yourself all over again just to stand a chance." He winces. "Hey. An idiot can fling punches around. And you, little Midoriya, are no idiot."
"That's debatable," Midoriya says dryly.
"Is it? I saw the slime monster. That was no lucky shot – you aimed for the eyes, didn't you. You knew exactly what you were doing."
"Yeah and a lot of good that did-"
"It did exactly what was needed, and exactly what you need now – it grabbed the right person's attention." On an impulse Nana reaches out to ruffle his hair, and is pleasantly surprised when she's able to do so. Her hand musses up his wild curls instead of passing through it like a mirage, and Nana can feel it. "And it kept you and your little friend alive long enough for help to come, so that's a plus."
"Mm." Midoriya frowns, looking thoughtful and not necessarily in the good way.
"Hey. Kiddo. Any of this getting through? You did ask." Nana tilts her head, regarding the latest vessel for the power that was once her own. He's little – even littler than Toshi was back then. He's shrimpy and weedy and looks like he hasn't had a proper sleep in a week. And yet, there's a spark to him that she can't deny. "You're new at this, I know. You're new at being this type of
strong. Work on getting used to that, work on getting stronger, but don't forget about what you already had going for you." When he blinks up at her, Nana gives him a meaningful poke to the forehead. "Keep exercising that muscle, too. Got it?"
"I... think so," Midoriya says. "I guess I can figure it out."
"Good." Nana places her hands on her hips. "You're still a raw beginner, kiddo. Sometimes 'figure it out' is the best advice you're gonna get." She winks. "See you around."
She vanishes then, flitting off to find Toshi. Guilt nudges at the back of her mind; she'd only wanted to give him a hint, and she'd ended up spilling an entire pep talk on him instead.
Nana tells herself, firmly, that she can't do that anymore. She has to let Toshi be the teacher, especially since he has no way of knowing she's still around to help. But the kid asked her to her face, and she couldn't say no to that face.
But she has to say no. It wouldn't be fair, otherwise.