"If you squeeze that cup of tea any tighter, you're going to break it and then where will you be?"
As usual, her mother's voice was sharp, cutting and completely uninterested in entertaining whoever or whatever she deemed to be 'idiotic', and despite herself, Inko felt her lips turn up towards a smile for the smallest of moments, before realising that, indeed, the grip she had on her cup of tea was threatening to shatter the porcelain.
Mindful, she set it down on the fence post in front of her, taking both hands off of it, as her mother hobbled up to join her.
She didn't look well.
They'd agreed not to tell Izuku about her cancer diagnosis, until things were clearer and more settled, but that was a lot easier said than done. Her mother had told her that she was fine, and Inko had pressed her for details that she wouldn't want to give, but when she and Izuku had arrived for a visit, she'd done so to find her looking thinner and weaker than Inko could ever recall.
Izuku had - quite literally - done a double take at the sight of her.
The walking cane was no longer recommended by her doctor, and had instead, become a permanent fixture of her life and mobility, rather than something she had needed to keep reserved only for her worst days. Her hair was thinner, almost seeming brittle, her skin was paler and most noticeably of all, she'd lost weight, and while it wasn't a great amount of weight, Ima Midoriya hadn't been a large woman to begin with and so, it seemed far worse than it should have.
Inko thought that her son was many things, but he wasn't an idiot.
He'd noticed the difference immediately, (how could he not have?), and she could see it reflected in the way that he'd hugged her; his touch was careful and gentle, far more so than he usually was - as if a part of him was scared that she'd break under his slightest touch.
And truthfully, between Izuku's strength and her mother's current constitution, his choice might've been the smart one.
Yet, she couldn't deny how difficult it had been to witness.
"Where-"
"He's in the shed, holding that damn crystal and staring at his ship, like it holds the answers to all the secrets of the universe".
Inko nodded, well aware that Izuku had spent a lot of his time at his grandmother's doing just that.
"For all we know, it does".
"Don't get smart with me, girl".
Inko wisely chose not to respond, and instead, let the silence fall over them. For a few moments, they were both content to simply stand there, but even out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother swaying lightly with the wind.
"Don't give me that look".
"We have to tell Izuku, don't we?"
Ima sighed, sounding completely exhausted, "No… not yet", if it was possible, she seemed to slump her shoulders slightly, making herself seem even smaller, "just give him a few more weeks, yet".
"Mother".
"He's finishing up his first term at his new school", Ima reminded her, traces of her old familiar steel seeping into her voice, "let him finish there and when they take summer break, we'll tell him then. That way, he'll have time to process everything, before he has to go back".
There was a pause, before it was Inko's turn to sigh, "Okay".
Ima raised an eyebrow, "Okay?"
She nodded back, "Okay".
Silence settled over the two of them, and for several minutes, the only sounds that broke it were the quiet gentleness of their teacups being raised and lowered.
"So", Ima's broke through the serenity of the evening, "now are you going to tell me what happened at the school?"
"I already told you about the break in-"
"I don't care about the break in", Ima snapped, but her tone was half-hearted, "you know full well that I meant the assembly. Don't", she warned, "play the idiot with me, girl".
"Sorry", she muttered, "and the assembly was… it was…", she shrugged, "it was whatever, I suppose".
Ima closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the petulance that came with raising a teenager, and deciding that she was just going to ignore it for the sake of her own comfort, "And what does that even mean?"
"It means that I went and listened to them explain how they left an entire school unguarded; how they have no way of actually stopping it from happening again; and how they're still proceeding with all of the planned school events, including their 'internationally broadcast' Sports and Culture Festival in October".
The emphasis she put on the phrase, 'internationally broadcast', told Ima everything she needed to know about Inko's feelings on that particular matter.
"So…", Ima frowned, her mind working to piece it altogether, "Izuku gets attacked at school, but they don't tell you anything over the phone, so you storm over there, collect your son and all-but threaten to kill his homeroom teacher… and then, a week later, when there is an actual opportunity to rake the idiots over the coals and get some actual answers, you did… nothing?"
"I'd… calmed down?"
Ima said nothing; she simply stood there, silent and waiting, until Inko broke down.
It was a strategy that had never failed her when Inko had been a teenager, and just a few moments later, it proved to still be successful now.
"Okay, fine. I wanted to say something. I wanted to scream and yell and rip them a new one and take Izuku out of that school and just-"
"Wrap him in bubble wrap, in a padded room, that will keep him safe from anything and everything?"
"You make it sound like I'm being ridiculous".
"Yes, well, we'll come back to that, but again, why didn't you do any of that?"
Inko blew out a breath, wishing for a moment that she'd taken up her mother's old smoking habit, "All I keep wanting is for Izuku to just keep his head down. I don't want him to draw attention to himself. To not do anything that makes him stand out too much, and I can't tell him to do all that and then be the one who storms her way into a public place and kick up a fuss. I can't-"
"I need to ask, is your long-term plan here, really for Izuku to never amount to anything in his life? To grow up and never give his all to anything?"
Inko flushed bright red, "I'm not- it's not- I just don't want-"
"-him to learn how to take up space up for himself".
"That is not-"
"Honestly, I don't think I've ever felt this ashamed of you before", Ima mused.
Inko felt her mouth open, but all that came out was a scratching noise, torn from the back of her throat, as she turned to face her, before finally managing to force a, "What?", out of her throat.
"Oh, I know you heard me".
"How- why would you-"
"You. Are. His. Mother", turning to face her daughter properly, she punctuated every word with a jab to her breastbone, and even with her frail form, Inko could feel the beginnings of a bruise forming, "as far as you're concerned, your job - your sole job in this life - is to help build that boy up. To teach him how to stand up, tall and proud, in a world that does its best to keep people beaten down, and you, Inko Midoriya, are failing", she sighed, almost seeming to collapse for a moment, "and so am I, for helping you do it".
"Do you honestly think I don't know that", she snapped, as Inko's anger finally tipped over, "do you think I don't know that Izuku turned down his spot in the Heroics Course because of me? That he set a record score in the Entrance Exam for the best school in the world and then turned it down because of me. That he just saved the lives of his entire class and still isn't in the Hero Course, because of me".
"Then why-"
"BECAUSE HE COULD GET HURT! OR KILLED! OR WORSE!"
"Inko-"
"No, okay, no", she spat out, "it is not the same. Izuku. Is. Not. Human. We can pretend all day long that it doesn't make any sort of difference, but it does. If he gets hurt, Izuku can't be treated like he's a normal person. No, normal human treatments will work on him. He can't be given blood, or drugs or any type of medication. There are dangerous things out there and if he gets hurt, then that's it".
"You can't know that-"
"I do know that", she cut her mother off, "I'm a nurse, so were you - and you know as well as I do that every person who ever thought themselves invincible ended up with a serious injury. The difference", Inko stressed, "is that them having their blood examined was routine. Their differences are still human differences. With Izuku, his being found out will lead to him getting kidnapped and stuffed into some kind of underground lab somewhere, where they can vivisect him".
Ima reached for the nearby railing, gripping it for support, feeling drained from the effort of their argument, but she also found that she was unable to actually refute anything that Inko had said.
Because Inko was right.
Izuku getting hurt - or worse - wasn't the same as it happening to any other person. He wasn't human and no matter what he was, she knew that a single drop of his blood would be enough to rewrite humanity's entire understanding of the universe and their place in it.
Inko had every reason to be worried, but still…
Izuku also couldn't hide himself away forever.
And damn her, for letting her daughter think that he could.
Deep down, somewhere in her gut, Ima knew that one day, Izuku would have to stand before the human race, and when that day came, no amount of maternal worrying, (or grandmaternal worrying, in her case), would be enough to protect him from whatever came next.
The best way to prepare him, would be to make sure that Izuku was able to make it on his own.
"I just…", Inko's voice was muted and subdued now, her previous fire having been snuffed by her own worries, "I just wish I could understand where his desire to become a hero came from".
Ima felt her eyebrows raising without her consent, "Are you serious?"
Inko blinked, "Of course I am", she said slowly, as if her tone was being used to disarm a bomb, "Izuku used to, well not hate heroes exactly, but he seemed to understand that they could be dangerous. He's always liked All Might, but after what happening with the Bakugo boy, he stopped wanting to be a hero for years; but then, almost out of nowhere, a few years later, he started bringing it up again".
"That was around when he started junior high, wasn't it?"
"Yes, that's right".
"Didn't he start volunteering at the hospital proper around that time as well?"
Inko nodded, "Yes, he did".
"But you don't know what inspired him into wanting to become a hero again?"
She shook her head, "No", before realising that her mother's eyebrows were still raised, "what?"
"You're an idiot".
"What do you-", she started to ask, but her mother was already waking away, as fast as her cane would allow her, "what do you mean?"
"An idiot", she muttered.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
When Uncle Might had come to her and told her that he had finally made arrangements for her to begin training in the real, physical use of One For All, she'd felt ecstatic. Admittedly, she hadn't trained with a Quirk before, so she hadn't known what to expect from it, but she'd spent the last few days dreaming up all kinds of different scenarios, ranging from locations that rivalled the polished facilities of U.A., to her being forced to undergo extreme training in a series of simulated environments.
Despite the wide range of ideas that she'd leant her imagination to, one thing she certainly hadn't considered was being taken to a dilapidated house in the middle of a street, along the edge of what appeared to be the average Japanese suburban neighbourhood.
Rather than them both arriving in full training gear, ready to help his niece begin her journey into proper heroics, All Might had left his spandex behind, in favour of his guise as regular, old Yagi Toshinori. His Mighty Agency branded SUVs had been changed out for his favourite white pick-up truck, and quite frankly, if it weren't for his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, Melissa would've assumed that Uncle Might had forgotten where they were at all.
"Are you-"
"We're here", he whispered.
She was just about to try asking him, if he was feeling alright for the second time, when he unclipped his seatbelt and slid out of the truck, leaving her to scramble after him.
Uncle Might waited for her to catch up, grabbing the suitcase he'd told her to pack from the back of his truck, before leading her up the steps of one of the houses.
The paint was cracked and the railings on the stairs were starting to rust, and while the doorbell rang when her uncle pushed the button, she couldn't help but ask.
"Are you sure this is the right place?"
Her Uncle just smiled, but there was a tightness in his eyes that slowly had her concerns raising higher and higher, even as he stepped back from the door, shuffling backwards and leaving her to take the lead on her training, "Trust me, this is the place. Torino-sensei has lived here for over fifty years and he's not planning on moving anytime soon".
Turning to face the door, she nodded slowly, "I can't believe that the Pro Hero who trained you lives in a place like this".
She didn't know what she expected to hear as a response; perhaps the revelation that this was merely his old home, kept in sentiment, while he enjoyed a mansion in the suburbs, or maybe a quiet statement of how his old teacher preferred his humble abode, or even a fun anecdote about how his sensei was simply too stubborn to move, but after a moment, she realised that no reply was incoming and turned around, only to find that Uncle Might was gone.
Her head snapped up, scanning the street, before the roar of an engine coming to life caused her gaze to land on the white pick-up truck that she had arrived in, and before she could get a word out, Uncle Might's head appeared, sticking straight out the of the driver's side window.
"HAVEFUNMELISSATELLHIMISAIDHITRYNOTTODIEOKAYLOVEYOUBYE!"
And before she could blink, the truck tore out of its parking spot and was down the street with a speed that would've left even the most skilled professional drivers feeling impressed.
Unfortunately for her, that also meant that she was now stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no real idea of where she was and what she was supposed to be doing.
As if in response to her thoughts, the door behind her creaked open.
She swallowed.
"Err, Mister Gran Torino, sir", she called through the now-open door, "I'm Melissa Shield. All Might sent me".
She waited a moment, and when she realised that no reply was incoming, and there was certainly no one stood behind the door to have opened it, she made a decision to step through the doorway.
The inside was a mess.
The coats and shoes from the hallway were strewn about the floor, either having been flung or dropped there. At the side of the corridor, the cabinet doors had been pulled open and clearly rummaged through, and the door that led to the main part of the house was hanging from a single hinge.
Something was wrong.
Reaching into her pocket, Melissa reached for her cellphone, determined to summon her Uncle Might back to help her, only to realise that she had no signal to make the call with.
Her only options were to either run away and get help… or do it herself.
It might have been the smarter play to run away and get help, but Melissa knew that she'd never forgive herself if Gran Torino was somewhere inside and needed her help, only for his fate to have been decided when she abandoned him.
Swallowing once again, she forced herself to step inside.
The sitting room was in even worse shape.
He curtains had been torn down, the sofa had been overturned, while the rugs had been ripped up, and at the back of the room, where it opened up into the kitchen, and an old man in a hero costume was lying, facedown, on the floor.
And that wasn't the worst of it.
Someone had attacked him.
Blood was pouring from his abdomen, pooling around his body, while his intestines were spilling out.
"My god", Melissa breathed, before dropping her bags and rushing over to the fallen hero. She pushed him onto his back, her left hand clamping down on the wound, as she desperately tried to stem the flow of blood from his wounds. There was blood around his head as well, but she could see no open wound, and it seemed to have stopped or at least slowed down enough to not be a primary concern.
"Oh, please be okay. Mister Torino, can you hear me? Please, say something-"
"I'M ALIVE!"
Melissa screamed.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
With the school closed for a week, in order to carry out some sort of security review, Izuku had decided to spend his extra free time at the hospital, helping them out with restocking and administration, and in between bouts of running about the hospital to help, he also made sure to that he finished his outstanding homework and tried to make progress on his hero profile assignment.
Which was why he was sat in the corner of the hospital canteen, having a whispered argument with Shinso, about including some of their speculative ideas about Eraser Head and his work into their report.
"It's perfectly acceptable to include speculation in a report, on the condition that we, one, back it up with at least some form of deductive reasoning and, two, make sure that it's labelled as speculation and not as fact".
On his screen, the image of Shinso's face scowled, "Weren't you the one going on and on about the importance of the truth, just a few weeks ago".
"It wasn't that long ago", Izuku pointed out, "and that's not the point. We're creating a profile on Eraser Head, including his strengths, weaknesses and general capabilities".
"Of which, we know little".
Izuku shot him a dry look, "You're the one who picked an Underground Pro Hero - one notorious for avoiding any and all forms of media - to do the profile on".
The camera did little to hide how red Shinso's face was when he flushed.
"And with how little information we have, calling for speculation based on the available information is perfectly reasonable", Izuku continued, "or we could magically find him and convince him that two high schoolers are the perfect people to give his first ever media interview to".
"-Tt-", Shinso clicked his teeth, "you didn't have to be so blunt about it".
"You say that, and yet everything I've seen and heard since I met you, is enough to know that the blunt approach is the quickest way to get you to talk".
The camera did a much better job at hiding Shinso's smirk, when compared to his blush, but Izuku still saw how his lips twitched up for a moment, before he moved back into what Togeike had charitably informed him was Shinso's 'resting bitch face'.
Izuku doubted that he would ever feel comfortable calling it that aloud, but he still had to bite his own lip to prevent himself from smiling.
"Fine", Shinso agreed, with a sigh that sounded like he was suffering from the mere idea of agreeing to Izuku's very reasonable request, "we can include it. I'll type up some of my notes and send them your way".
"Don't forget to-"
"-to source them, I know".
"Thank you".
Shinso looked like he was going to sigh again, before stopping partway, instead choosing to look awkwardly at the camera, "So, I have something else I need to ask you".
"Go for it. I mean, isn't that why we're having this meeting?"
"It's not about the project", he said, momentarily biting the corner of his lip, "it's about what happened the other day".
"Oh", he blinked, "you mean the err… the attack, right?"
"Yeah…"
Izuku nodded, "How have you been handling it?"
"I'm fine", he waved off his concerns, "my dad kicked up a fuss, but that's just what he does. Show up, look bothered, threaten to sue and then move on to something else".
"It's nice that he showed up?"
It was hard to convey an entire conversation with just a look, yet somehow, Izuku knew exactly what Shinso was going to say next, if he didn't move onto another topic immediately, Shinso was going to make it as painful a conversation as was possible.
"So, what did you want to ask me?"
"That thing - what was it called - Humanite?"
"The Humanite", he confirmed.
"Right", he nodded, looking uncomfortable, "when the Humanite was going to crush me. You stepped in between us and blocked it, and I know that you have superstrength and all… but how did you know that it wouldn't crush you?"
"Oh", Izuku felt his face pinch, even as his hand absently ran through his hair, brushing it back, before his hand settled on the back of his head, gently rubbing it, "well, to be honest, I didn't".
Now it was Shinso's turn to blink in confusion, "You… didn't?"
He shook his head, "No".
"You didn't know if you'd be crushed or not?"
"No… but I knew that you would be".
Shinso didn't know what to say to that.
There was an awkward pause, the two of them staring at each other through their computer screens, before Shinso reached for his mouse, "Hey, ugh, Midoriya".
"Yeah?"
"Thanks".
And with that, he switched his screen off.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
With the villain attack over and the school formally reopening in a few days, Katsuki had arrived at the realisation that he had wasted most of the time he had spent at the damn school; sitting in class like a good little extra without making any progress on growing stronger. He'd sat through enough damn lectures already and other that waste of time Quirk assessment with the damn hobo, he'd barely made use of his Quirk at all.
What was the point of being at a damn hero school, if you didn't get to do the one thing that heroes were supposed to be good for?!
And when the time had come for him to actually kick some ass and show the extras in his class what he was made of, he'd been rendered useless by the fact that he couldn't do shit when his wheelchair was stuck in the damn mud.
Not fucking acceptable.
He'd been stuck there, like one of the damn extras who were supposed to stand there and clap when he showed up to save the day, instead of getting on with the business of actually being the next Number One.
And that little fact was why he was taking advantage of two facts: the first being that the U.A. Campus was unofficially open ahead of classes on Monday; and the second being that he lived close to it to be able to drag his limp ass body down there, with his laptop bag, to get his shit started.
He'd rolled straight through the U.A. Barrier, not bothering with any of the extras that were parked at the gates begging for a damn quote or some crap, and headed straight through and towards the Design Studios, where Majima-sensei was probably already working on something.
When he shoved the door out of his way, he was proven right, when he found him actively soldering a circuit board together.
It was a testament to his years of experience, both on the frontlines as a Pro Hero and as a teacher to classes filled with temperamental teenagers who came with a variety of destructive powers, that Higari Majima, also known as the Pro Hero, Power Loader, didn't so much as flinch when the door banged against the wall. Instead, he simply continued with his attempts at soldering, ignoring the impatient and angry growls of his student, as he made sure that when he finished his work, each of the soldering finishes was as smooth as it could be.
It was only once he was satisfied with the outcome, that he chose to set his soldering iron down safely, before turning to face the snarling face of his student, "Ah, Bakugo, it's good to see that you're doing well. What can I do for you?"
Bakugo took a long breath, his nose flaring inwards, before his cheeks puffed out, and he reached for his laptop. Moving over to one of the workspaces, he set the laptop down and booted up his design programme, as the design specialist moved to read his plans over his shoulder.
"Project Sentinel One", he read aloud, before reaching over to the keyboard, idly cycling through the various design ideas that he'd already finished, as well as the ones that were still in various stages of development, "in short", Power Loader mused, "you want to turn yourself into a walking armoury, all powered by your sweat".
"By my Quirk", he snapped.
"Right…", the Pro Hero's lips twitched up, "your Quirk, my mistake".
Bakugo chose to growl in response; but the only worthwhile teacher he'd had so far had already moved on, and within his mind, he was already drawing up the mental plans for what came next for Bakugo and his designs: final drafts, detailed designs, initial builds and then subjecting the project to every form of testing that U.A were capable of.
He didn't doubt for a single second that Bakugo would want to undertake all of the design work himself - it was, after all, his brainchild - however with all of the time that he'd have to devote to his Heroics lessons, he also knew that the boy wouldn't be able to oversee all of the fabrication and testing procedures.
He'd need a partner to do that for him.
He could set him up with one of the upperclassmen to oversee his work, but while it was still early in the school year, the Third Years were already hard at work preparing their own equipment, in a bid to gain work opportunities next year, and, if he was correct in assuming that Bakugo was going to continue with his goal of mastering Heroics and Support, then he'd run into the same issue next year, if he gave him a Second Year student as his partner.
No, it was best to team him up with a fellow First Year student and then let them grow together.
Which was where his new problem lay.
The best option for them both, was to team Bakugo up with someone who not only already had experience in creating powered exoskeletons, (despite still being in their first semester of U.A.), but was also thick-skinned enough, (or just uncaring enough), that they wouldn't be upset, put-off or enraged by Bakugo's clearly abrasive personality.
Which really only left him with one obvious candidate.
He could already feel the ulcer forming in the stomach of his future self.
He was going to have to introduce Katsuki Bakugo to Mei Hatsume.