9: Shutterspeed
Tuesday, the last week of September
It's been three days since Kābā has heard from Izuku.
No, that's… It's been three days since he's messaged Izuku. Three days since any of them have reached out to Izuku, according to their chatroom. He feels horrible. After a few months of being Izuku's friend he knows that Izuku is probably blaming himself.
Kābā watched Izuku jump in front of a bomb to save someone's life. Everyone involved is unharmed, mostly, and the dumbass who did it is in custody.
That… all of that should make it okay. Izuku should be congratulated, celebrated, praised all over the country for that kind of raw heroism. A part of Kābā knows this, and he wants this to be the truth of the matter so badly that it hurts.
But Kābā watched Izuku jump in front of a bomb.
He really doesn't know how to deal with that.
A chime, one of his sister's piano trills, breaks the silence. The moment the phone is in his hand, blinding him, he recognizes the tone and hits the sleep button. He's slow enough that he catches the message anyways.
Tuesday 724a
Carebear: I got a haircut
Kābā doesn't really know how to respond to that. He frowns and tentatively reopens his phone, staring at the message. And then he's responding, not really thinking about it as much as letting second nature take control.
Davinci: I dont believe you
Davinci: your mom wouldn't buy garden shears just to give you a haircut
Carebear: ?
Davinci: youre a shrub, Izuku
Davinci: besides Tachi and I tried to cut your hair once
Davinci: broke two of my best pairs of scissors
Carebear: Please tell me you're joking
Davinci: you think I'd joke about art supplies? Remember that time I had you buy dinner?
Carebear: THAT'S WHY
Davinci: Do you know how much art supplies cost
Carebear: I can only imagine
Davinci: why are you texting me about your haircut did you get a bad cut
Carebear: No, I lost a lot of hair though. It kept falling out Sunday
Davinci: I repeat
Davinci: ?
Carebear: I just
There's a moment where the chat tells Kābā that Izuku is typing. He's already amused and frustrated with the guy, and it's not even time for school. Which means Tachi-chan is going to be in fine form today, if she's back to normal. Sokuchi probably…
Carebear: I needed to talk to someone
Carebear: Today is taking a long time
He rereads the message a few times before he turns his eyes to the ceiling and groans.
Davinci: what do you mean 'Today'
Davinci: Izuku what are you doing
Carebear: You know I get up early, right
Davinci: yes, you're a masochist but you said that very specifically
Davinci: plus you never complain
Carebear: I'm just tired
Carebear: Sorry for texting you so early
Carebear: Just wanted to talk to someone
Carebear: I'll see you at school?
Davinci: Yeah, Ill see you there
Maybe he won't deal with anything today, Kābā thinks. If he can get through today in one piece, maybe he'll figure out what to do with all these feelings later.
-000000-
Kābā actually likes the new haircut. Izuku trimmed up the sides and left a little bit of fluff on his head, leaving him one less thing to hide behind. Sure, undercuts are overdone but, in a world full of heroes and odd hairstyles, seeing a classic is nice. Really, the odd hairstyles are crimes against fashion and should get people arrested. It's awful sometimes.
Of course, it's all null and void because while Kābā is trapped with Izuku in their classroom, none of the others show up early to see it. Ever since school started, Izuku has been a pariah. Being outed as a vigilante only made things worse, somehow, because now he's got fans mixed in with the haters. None of them will approach, though, so Kābā gets to watch them whisper about him quietly.
It occurs to him briefly that they may not be whispering about Izuku at all. Being paranoid is a new thing for him. He's not sure how Izuku does this all day.
Lunch rolls around and Izuku ducks out, claiming that he needs to talk to Kurobayashi-sensei. Kābā waves him off and trudges up to the roof, where he finds their friends holding a small funeral without the coffin. His presence doesn't change anything.
They don't talk much.
Other than the occasional flashes of green out of the corner of his eye, Kābā doesn't see Izuku again until he returns to the classroom.
They don't talk at all.
Daisuke takes him around the dojo where he does most of his kendo training on Wednesday. For a little while, they enjoy themselves mindlessly. It's a laid-back place, and Daisuke only has an hour and a half long practice. Kābā passes the time sketching kendo forms while his friend trains. Akiko comes in halfway through, fresh out of her gymnastics practice at school, and she's fawning over the sketches before long. They've talked about having Kābā do some drawings for her 'management company', even though she doesn't have one.
That night he has dinner with his siblings. His brother doesn't talk much, even going as far as to bring his laptop to the table, but Kābā gets to hear about where Cynthia went for her latest piano concert. Piano music has never been his favorite, but his sister is too incredible to turn down. So that night he sits and listens while she plays for practice (her smile says it's for him, just like it used to be, and but they treat it like a secret).
Friday rolls around like low tide. He ignores math class for the third day in a row and he spends most of his time sketching abstract pieces in various styles. A few go in the chat, and suddenly they're all off catching up like it's been days since they saw one another, not hours. When he drags himself to school on Saturday, things feel a little more natural. Less muted, more colorful. Sleep has been a little easier. Last week nags him but doesn't pay it any mind.
He dumps himself in his chair sideways and grins at the boy beside him, greeting on his tongue, and suddenly his eyes catch on Izuku's hair. Specifically, the streaks of white growing up the sides.
Izuku glances up and meets his stare with a grin, then a curious frown.
"You okay, Kābā-kun?"
"Oh, y-yeah… Still not used to the new haircut."
"Heh, me either honestly. I'm not really bothered by the cold or anything anymore, but it's still weird not having my hair grown out." Izuku reaches up and tugs on his head hard enough that Kābā can see the skin pull tight, hard enough that Kābā winces in sympathy. "But I haven't had any problems with it since Monday so that's nice."
They don't really talk much. Kābā can't even say that he tried, because there's something fundamentally wrong about the way their conversation feels. Maybe it's the fact that he didn't notice the white until today, or the fact that his friend is oddly twitchy. It fades from his mind until he finds himself heading up to the roof alone again. He pauses, hand on the door, when he realizes that today is Saturday.
He hasn't eaten lunch with Izuku all week. They barely spoke at all.
When he's firmly wedged in between Daisuke and Sokuchi, showing them the sketches of Daisuke's training, Daisuke picks up his notebook and starts flipping back, from his training session roughs to older pieces.
At some point, Akira catches his eye and smiles.
"Did you hear from Midoriya-kun today?" Kābā blinks, frowns and shrugs.
"I didn't even think about it, honestly." Akira nods, though her sister frowns and nudges the girl with an elbow. What follows can only be some odd twin telepathy, but Kābā tunes out. Daisuke asks about an art piece, and he goes on to explain that he had a concept for a rough draft like two weeks ago.
The flash of green in the corner of his vision is distracting enough that Kābā thinks of Izuku again. His eyes linger on the rooftop door, watching it swing shut for half a second before he asks Daisuke about his workout routine.
He says it doesn't feel the same recently. Kābā isn't surprised.
On Sunday he wakes up and spends most of the day going over homework and just doing standard things. Tripping through social media, watching ridiculous hero feeds, reading through some articles his parents sent him about exhibitions and neat exhibits. He buys some supplies online, cutting his monthly allowance in half, and when four o'clock rolls around he finds himself sitting in the spare room staring at an empty canvas.
His eyes fall on a child's drawing pinned to the wall over his desk. It's all colored pencil, no outlines, but anyone would take one look and see that it's a unicorn. What strikes him about this particular one is that the unicorn is up on a rock, looking down on the rest of the forest very much like people would think a lion might (not that it's a very tall rock, the drawing takes up the whole page horizontally).
The colors are all wrong. Despite the unicorn's coat being white, the mane is darker green than the trees and the eyes are red, while the horn is black and curved like the edge of a scalpel. Eri drew that back when her addiction to unicorns first started. She'd given it to him after he'd drawn up the picture now hanging over Izuku's bed.
Kābā thinks of Izuku, throwing himself in front of a bomb while Eri waits for him at home. His memory of the event itself is hazy, but the artistic part of his brain imagines the flames and the blast spreading around Izuku like dragon fire, spreading across his bare back like the brunt of a floodwater. The sight of the aftermath over the police barricade is not at all hazy. Black streaks trail out from Izuku's feet across the street, stretching around a single sobbing girl.
A pencil hits the canvas, a concept taking shape in the back of Kābā's head.
Wednesday, the last week of September
Eighteen bodies lie on the floor. The only thing that gives away which of them are women are the curves under their uniforms and their frames. One of the walls is caved in entirely, leaving rubble strewn about the battlefield like small mountains. Puddles of water and ash smears cover the remaining walls and floor, along with a girder from the rafters that somehow got wrapped up in the chaos. Groans and quiet sobs fill the room, though it's hard to tell where everything is coming from. A single person stands on top of the largest chunk from the wall, hands smoking and trembling as he stares down at the wreckage left in his wake.
Shota isn't surprised. Bakugō has been getting more and more volatile, but this week he seems extra motivated. On top of being quiet. The quiet part has Shota more worried than usual. Not even Kaminari's backhanded compliments set the blonde off this week. Apparently Bakugō learned to bottle that rage up and use it.
That, or he's growing too quickly.
"That was quite the show." Having Nezu on his shoulder has become an occupational hazard, one that doesn't bother Shota too much. If he's being honest the way the Principal seems to randomly appear there is the troublesome part. Giving Nezu a teleporter might mean the end of the world. "Young Bakugō is truly a powerful young man."
"He's been stressed lately." Shota says quietly. His notes from the exercise include a few worries and some advice, but he'll readily admit that he was too shocked to write much down. The destruction caused by eighteen versus one is impressive.
"Do you have any records from the past exercises? I'd like to look at his progress this month a little more carefully." Nezu's voice is always a bit high pitched, but there's something to it that Shota doesn't like.
"What's this about?"
"I've been meaning to bring you up to speed on this anyways. We've got some reports of people who've grown well beyond their quirks. Remember Hatsume?"
"I thought she was just an outlier."
"I'm calling them Anomalies. Hatsume's intelligence programs have reached human level, and there are others. One that is already intimately familiar with our school. And those are only the two we've confirmed from the rumors."
"That sounds like a security breach."
"Imagine a small, green version of All Might kicking in our front door."
"Sounds like one of my nightmares, other than the green part." Nezu chuckles, then hops off Shota's shoulder.
"Regardless, Bakugō might have come into contact with an Anomaly and I think we should be prepared should he begin showing the signs. He's already powerful enough, don't you think?" Shota turns back to the gym as the students start picking themselves up, moaning about injuries. He doesn't worry too much after Ojiro gets up from under the girder.
"You hired me to make sure they get better. I wouldn't be doing my job if he peaks this early."
"You don't teach math, Aizawa, but having too many variables in a problem make people very unhappy. Even I've got a point where I'd give up." Nezu raises a paw, then runs an eye over the carnage. "Anyways, come by my office with Bakugō-kun's data later, if you're not too busy. It will take some time to fill you in."
"Why are you filling me in early? Why not call a meeting of all the teachers?" Shota doesn't want to know the answer, but this is Nezu. Few can outplay him, even fewer can keep him from getting what he wanted. He already has a pretty good idea of why, so might as well get it over with. Nezu is already walking away as he calls Shota's damnation over his shoulder.
"I'm looking to put a small green All Might in your class at some point. I don't have enough data to tell you much more than that!"
The med bots roll into the wreckage slowly, spraying liquid bandages and antiseptic on a few stray cuts while they apply bandages to worse injuries and tell the students to head to the infirmary. Eighteen students walk out with bandaged limbs, cuts, bruises, frizzy hair and the worst blow to their collective self-esteem of the entire semester. Bakugō walks out with a pair of bandages and a small limp. Shota glances down at the timestamp on the recorded video, then follows his students out while he pulls up the last month's exercises on his tablet.
Class 1-A was supposed to be a cut above the rest of the nation's hero hopefuls. Setbacks aside, they were one of the best classes Shota has seen in a long time. Not many kids could walk out of a villain attack with fire in their eyes, even if All Might was there to clean it up.
Bakugō had taken all of them down in thirty minutes.
Maybe that was a little bit much.
Saturday, the last week of September
Toshinori still isn't used to this whole… "Civilian commute" thing.
He can feel eyes on him constantly, and any villainy that he hears of on his way makes something gnaw at his gut. A weight exists on his shoulders now, though. She's young, blonde and beautiful, standing just in front of him on the left.
Always on the left, just in case.
Melissa is quiet these days. She wears a smile that's delicate as glass and she's perfectly polite. But there's clear difference from this girl and the one he remembers meeting on I-island over the years. Toshinori hopes with every fiber of his being that the support course will help her open up again. Meeting with Nezu today is supposed to be a part of that. Getting her into U.A. quickly now that she's finally adapting to Japan. With her grades from her last school she's well above the current curriculum. Power Loader seems excited to have a protégé.
Sirens catch his ear, and Toshinori doesn't even realize that he's stopped on the sidewalk until Melissa grabs his hand.
"Uncle Toshi, you're steaming." He winces at the disappointed frown bearing down on him.
"Er, r-right… I just,"
"No way, Uncle Toshi."
"Just a peek?"
"We really are going to be late, you know,"
"I just need to make sure, Melissa-chan," He can see the disappointment in her smile, but it's mixed with a bit of fondness. They drift a bit off course, heading a block out of their way to watch as Backdraft fights a young villain with a fire quirk. Nothing out of the ordinary, apparently. Musutafu is so desensitized that people stop and film the fight instead of running as fireballs scorch the nearby buildings.
"Everything seems to be under control, uncle Toshi," Melissa sighs, tugging on the oversized sleeve of his suit. He stays as he fights the urge to leap in and finish things with a single blow.
It's a matter of propriety at this point, isn't it? To make people feel safe…?
"Uncle Toshi-!"
A shiver runs down his spine as someone brushes by him, and all he sees is the briefest flash of green before One for All is sputtering to life on raw instinct. The smallest vein of fire burns in his eyes (he can't see the way they glow in the shadows of his emaciated form) to keep up with the newcomer.
Midoriya leaves a clear afterimage as he drops into the fight and cuts the villains legs out from under him. Two blows land, a sweep and a blow to the shoulder, before the villain is embedded in the pavement. With a hop and a skip, the boy is landing beside Toshinori and Melissa as the crowd gapes at the aftermath.
Years and years of using One for All has taught Toshinori several things. He trusts his instincts more than most people, moves easier than almost anyone, and he's all too aware of the implications in "real time combat". Speed is one of the greatest assets a hero can have, and All Might is one of the fastest heroes on the planet. What Midoriya has just managed is something that even All Might can barely manage these days. Back in his prime that was still in the upper limits of his power.
He locks eyes with the boy for a moment before Midoriya shoulders his school bag and turns his eyes to the street.
"Save your time, Yagi-sama." The boy sighs when the blood wells up and spills over Toshinori's lip, leaking from his slack jaw. "And take better care of yourself, if not for yourself then for her."
"Uncle Toshi! TOSHINORI-KUN!" He blinks when Melissa is shoving a handkerchief into his mouth, standing exactly where Midoriya had been a moment ago. "Gosh, you're so reckless! What did you do this time?!"
"I, wait, Melissa-chan, I swear I didn't do anything,"
"Who else could do that?! Pushing yourself isn't helping your condition!" Melissa scowls as he takes the cloth and cleans himself up sheepishly, looking for a boy who's no longer anywhere in sight. "I'll have to tell Shuzenji-sama about this, you know!"
"N-no, wait Melissa-chan please!"
Sunday, the last week of September
Looking back, Inko can't help but wonder. She wonders if life might have been different if her husband had stayed, or if Izuku had been born with a quirk or if she'd raised him a little better. Not that she raised him badly, mind you. Izuku is the single brightest thing in her life, even though he shares that space with someone else these days.
But people wonder. Perhaps the essence of humanity is the pursuit of dreams. If so, who can blame her for wondering? Right now, she has absolutely no regrets. Wondering is just an old habit.
"Keep an eye on him, Eri-chan! Don't let big brother get up to any trouble!" She grins wickedly as the little girl waves and bobs her head, jumping across boulders while Izuku stands nearby cheering her on. Inko's eyes linger until the child reaches the last stone and cheers, grinning so wide that it makes her "mother" tear up just a bit. Naturally Eri's barely touched down when "big brother" scoops the little one up and twirls them around, praising her for being brave.
It all feels so easy. How long has it been, a month? Two? So much has happened in less than a year. October starts tomorrow. Life is just like that, Inko decides. She grins as Izuku snatches Eri up and drags her back to their picnic blanket, collapsing with a breath.
"She's so fast mom! I almost didn't catch her!"
"Hmmm, sounds like you need to keep up that workout routine of yours." Inko chortles when he rolls his eyes. Eri, of course, grins as she stands up and puts her fists on her hips.
"I've been work, working up, too!" Izuku blinks, then grins widely as he sits up and crosses his legs.
"Oh? What kind of work up?"
"Auntie Inko takes me for walks!" Eri giggles. "I even saw a puppy!"
"No way!"
Inko sighs happily as the pair go off again. At the end of the day, Eri is barely hers at all. The little girl is glued to Izuku's hip, after all. Even when she asks to go outside, it's because she's chasing her big brother.
There's a light in his eyes these days. She has to look for it, sometimes, but she has to look less and less often. Whatever is happening to them, even if he's constantly throwing himself into danger, she's glad for it. For his friends, for Eri, for the people whom Izuku has been able to save. Not a day goes by when she isn't glad, instead of worrying what comes next.
She knows what comes next, after all. Maybe not all of it, maybe not even "next", but what comes eventually. Looking back, she really shouldn't have doubted. Not that she doubted Izuku, mind you.
He was always going to be a hero.
Also Sunday, the last week of September
The Sokuchi house is about the same size as the Yotsuba household, but there's something about it that feels different. Akira has been friends with Sokuchi-chan for nearly two years now, and she still hasn't lost that feeling of being out of place when she visits. Visiting without Akiko makes it a little bit more difficult. Her sister is the one who can push past those things and ignore the pressure.
But now Sokuchi-chan and Tachibana-chan are shoulder to shoulder on the couch across from her and Akira can't help but feel like she just walked in on something. Even if she's the one who asked to talk in the first place.
"Tachibana-chan, have you spoken to Midoriya this week?" Neither one of them seems happy with the question, though Sokuchi-chan isn't as put off.
"Nope." Tachibana says with an air of finality.
"Is anyone planning to talk to him again?" Akira doesn't like the way Tachibana's eyes are flaring up right now. Colors seep in and out of them too quickly, replacing the girl's eyes with flashpoints of impossibly vivid hues. That only happens when emotions are high and that means…
"You can, if you don't mind watching him try to kill himself." Tachibana huffs. Akira glares down at her hands, running her eyes over the design that Akiko picked out for her nails this month. She's known for a while that Tachibana was too invested in befriending Midoriya, but it doesn't make the words any less harsh. Normally Tachibana is the brightest of them all. Only Sokuchi seems to truly understand the girl beyond all the pep and friendliness.
Akira really doesn't know what to do with this. With them. Her friends.
"So, you're just… never going to see him again?"
"Why does it even matter? He'll be fine," Tachibana leans her head on Sokuchi's shoulder, staring down at her lap.
"Sokuchi-chan?" Akira turns to the taller woman with a faint hope, but Sokuchi ignores it. It's not surprising. Tachibana is the loudest and brightest and Sokuchi is the most constant person Akira has ever met. Currently, Sokuchi won't care about anyone but Tachibana. "Right…"
"I thought Kābā would be the one looking out for Izuku." Tachibana sniffles a bit, but her eyes are a deep blue when she looks up at Akira. "What's got you on his side?"
Akira has a bad feeling about what comes next, but she's already here. No one else seems prepared to do anything.
"I've been thinking about what happened all week," She runs her tongue over lips to fight her dry mouth as she speaks, "And I keep, I don't even know him, but I keep seeing flashes of green all over the place. Maybe it's because I don't like leaving him out of things when we all just got introduced…"
Akira can't help thinking that Tachibana is just waiting to jump on her moment of weakness to say the one thing Akira really doesn't want to hear. Part of her wants to say that Tachibana is fragile right now and that it won't matter later. Friends don't do that, but it's not like it would be the first time someone lashed out at her.
"I know it's wrong." Tachibana says quietly. Akira has never seen the other girl's eyes that shade of blue. It reminds of her of deep water off the side of a boat, darker beside the whites of her eyes and the welling tears. "I know I should say something, but I just keep thinking that one day he's not going to come back, and I don't… I'm sorry, Akira, I don't even know how TALK to Izuku right now."
This is why Akira is friends with Tachibana, after all. Because she's never actually taken the swipe that Akira is so terrified of. She smiles, even though her throat tightens up when Tachibana presses herself even deeper into Sokuchi-chan's side.
All it takes is a look from Sokuchi-chan, almost as if she's giving Akira permission, before Akira joins in the hug. Gentle fingers press into her shoulder as Sokuchi-chan reaches over Tachibana, and Akira's tearing up now too. Sokuchi-chan seems to be holding it together somehow. No one wants to see their friend cry.
"I know… I know you care about Midoriya," Akira mutters, holding Tachibana's hand as tightly as she can (the girl has a grip like a vise holy fuck), "You care about us all so much, Tachibana, I didn't want to make you cry."
"When are you going," Tachibana does her best to chuckle around her tears, wiping her nose with the cuff of her overly baggy sweater, "to start calling me Konomi, Akira?"
"Do you remember when you first tried convincing everyone to meet him?" Akira whispers, trying to ignore the pain in her hand. Tachibana takes a minute before her eyes are staring through the floor, back over the months she's spent being Midoriya's friend.
"Daisuke didn't like him. He threatened to beat Izuku up if the guy pulled anything funny or something like that," Tachibana huffed, "I had to try so hard not to laugh, I'd just watched Midoriya squat a metric ton of weights and then Daisuke… No one wanted anything to do with him. Akiko said that Izuku was a lost cause, he was too plain."
"I said I'd give him a shot." Sokuchi-chan muttered. Akira giggles despite the way it hurts her throat. There's a very noticeable poutiness in her voice, something inviting (Akira is definitely not jealous of the way she says it).
"You're always on my side, Ruby." Tachibana mutters quietly before looking back at Akira. "Why does any of that matter? No one wanted anything to do with Izuku back then."
"The week after you first tried, you started splitting lunch times." Akira coughs, trying to reign her emotions back into their usual cage so that she can actually talk, "And one day you came and you sat down looking, well, you looked upset I guess, but you were obviously pouting…"
"I do not pout, pouting is for losers,"
"So, you were pouting," Akira rolls her eyes at Tachibana's input, "And when I asked you what was wrong, you told me something that I never really stopped thinking about."
Akira's voice hitches again. Not because of the emotions in the room, but the memories she's digging up. Old memories of empty houses and mean children yelling at a girl who wanted to read her books in peace. Wondering what to do knowing that there was someone else out there who'd felt those things.
"I think you said something about Midoriya not having any other friends, or something similar," She has to push herself up out of the couch and just fix herself for a second. Brush hair from her eyes and wipe her nose and clear her throat, ignoring the way Tachibana's nose twitches and she narrows in like a bloodhound.
"I don't remember that."
"Akira-chan?" Hearing that tone from Sokuchi means she's being obvious, so Akira frowns and presses two fingers to her temples on either side and closes her eyes. The voice that comes out is Konomi's, not her own, but it feels almost natural as she calls up the memory.
"I don't even care that he saved our lives or that people are saying horrible things about him. But sometimes, Akira-chan, Midoriya-kun hears me say hello in the hall and he just… lights up like a Christmas tree. Everyone needs friends, but he's too worried about making other people uncomfortable. Like some kind of scared puppy. What kind of person would I be if I ignored a boy who wants to be friends and saves whoever he can?"
Emulating voices is a trick that she's picked up over the years after her singing practices. She doesn't do this often. It's too dangerous to do at home, and it's not like Akiko has ever cared about her vocal training. But Sokuchi-chan knows, and now…
Now Konomi knows too. That's a little bit terrifying.
"You are really good at that." Konomi stares up at her with yellow and green in her eyes, giving away how much respect and surprise are actually in that sentence. Akira wishes she appreciated it. Instead she hides and tries to fight off the sensation of something crawling over her back. "Do I really sound like that…?"
"Akira-chan's impressions are spot on." Sokuchi-chan smiles warmly, making Akira flush a bit. "And considering her memory, there's no doubt she got it right."
"You can't tell anyone." Konomi's eyes are dark blue again, but there's lines of yellow between the butterfly scales in her iris. Obvious suspicion, doubt… All the things Akira knows she'll have to deal with eventually. But she's in the middle of something, damn it, so she just needs her friend to agree, to SWEAR, so they can finish talking. "K-Konomi-chan, please you can't even tell Akiko, this is serious."
The girl nods a moment after Akira's plea tumbles from her lips, and it sets some of Akira's anxiety to rest. She still can't shake the spiders crawling up and down her throat, or the worry that somehow it will get out. But that's for later.
Right now, they're talking about Midoriya.
"Why are you fighting for him, Akira?" Sokuchi-chan asks gently, running a hand up Konomi-chan's arm. "You'd never show someone that trick for someone else."
"Because… because," Akira takes a breath, "I think, if I've listened to everything you and Kābā told us, Midoriya would blame himself for running everyone off."
"Of course, he would he's dumb." Konomi huffs.
"Even if it was crazy, Konomi-chan, Midoriya saved all those people," Akira frowns as the remembers the blast. "I can't forget how many people he pulled out of that building. I can't stop thinking about how he jumped in to save that girl, even though he didn't know her. You're right, I don't know Midoriya that well. We'd barely known each other a week before that, but I don't think I can forget that Midoriya would have given himself to save that person. It's what a hero would do. He's, I just think Midoriya is a hero. And what type of person would I be if I let all of his friends abandon him for doing the right thing?"
"I always forget how much you love heroes," Konomi chuckles wetly as she blinks away fresh tears. Akira can't help but stare down at her knees while her anxiety wars in her chest. Even if her hero worship hadn't been a secret, it's always uncomfortable talking about it so obviously.
"She's got a point though. Maybe you should at least talk to Midoriya tomorrow." Sokuchi-chan pokes Konomi-chan's head and earns herself a scowl for the action, on top of getting a smack on the leg. "Before you get a long text message about how he wishes you could still be friends, but he understands…"
"Yeah yeah, I'll talk to him tomorrow." Konomi groans. "You know I'm starting to think he's more trouble than he's worth."
"Too bad. You're the one who stuck your nose in. Now we're all involved." Sokuchi-chan smiles. "But I'm a bit curious, Akira-chan, why did you come to us first and not just talk to Midoriya?"
"I figured that it would be best if you three went to him first." Akira says weakly. "He… Midoriya-kun is a little bit scary, honestly."
"What are you talking about that guy is the nicest person ever!" Konomi-chan rolls her eyes as she drags herself up out of the couch and presses herself into Sokuchi-chan's side a little more effectively. "He's made of sugar, I swear."
Akira lets herself smile as the three of them dissolve into banter, talking about Kābā-kun's art and the new wedding ring one of their teachers has been wearing. Soon enough Midoriya-kun is all but forgotten, even if Akira knows he won't be ignored when tomorrow comes.
Monday, the last week of September
When Izuku wakes up, he feels like he's been hit by a truck. It's not that far from the truth, if he's remembering right. After a few minutes of rolling his limbs, finding new aches with each movement, he sits up and winces at the fires erupting across his abs. He crawls over Eri and stumbles across the hall, hitting the light in the room casually and scratching at his very itchy head. Then he looks in the mirror and lets his jaw drop.
He's losing his hair. It's falling out in his fingers, turning his ridiculously shaggy head into a much more manageable mess of curls. Luckily, he hasn't made a mess on his way to the bathroom but it's not so easy going out. So, he hops in the shower hoping that most of his hair is still there.
Going bald sounds absolutely horrible, thank you very much.
Eventually he climbs out and empties the drain guard, scowling at the black webs of soaked hair clinging to his fingers. A look in the mirror proves that the change is noticeable, though not drastic.
"I really messed up this time," He sighs. The door opens a few minutes later and he trudges out to meet his mother, who's awake and cooking breakfast.
"Ooh, Izuku, you're finally up!" Izuku blinks a bit at the way his mother drags him into a chair, fussing over every little thing. Eventually she puts a plate of breakfast down in front of him and smiles as she takes the seat across from him.
"Uh," He frowns when his mother sighs and chuckles, "Morning?"
"Izuku, it's three in the afternoon. On Monday."
"Wha?" Izuku's hands still halfway to his mouth as his mother's eyebrows rise.
"I said…"
"B-but that's not, I ALWAYS wake up, no no wait what about school?" Izuku nearly grabs a handful of his hair when he realizes that's probably not a good idea and grabs the table instead. His mother rolls her eyes at his reaction.
"I guess you needed the sleep. After that incident on Saturday I'm not surprised at all. We're just glad you woke up safely." She frowns as she gets up and sets a hand on his shoulder. "Did something happen to your hair?"
"I… It was coming out when I woke up. Falling out." Izuku sighs.
"I'll make an appointment with the hair dresser." Inko places a quick kiss on his cheek and ruffles what remains of his hair as she heads to her bedroom. "Right after I call work and let them know that I'll be able to come in tomorrow!"
Eri is excited when she finds him awake in his desk chair, of course. She gets little bit teary eyed but Izuku does his very best to keep things light. His mother has to watch while Eri takes a shower to get rid of all the hair covering their bed, and Izuku resolves himself to doing the laundry. He spends that day at home, save for his trip to the hair dresser.
That night, when he can't sleep, he rolls out of bed and jogs down to the beach. After a few minutes of watching the surf, he looks down at his hands and sighs. He spends a few minutes pacing, thinking back to what had happened in the face of the bomb. Being unable to move at that speed, feeling the burn as he tried. Most of it is a blur, including his acceleration into whatever that was.
Even the memory of the emptiness waiting for him at top speed is terrifying. Being unable to move, unable to hear, stuck with only his eyes and ears while the rest of the world remains picture perfect. It's been a while since he's been afraid of something like this. Real, irrational fear runs through him like ice as he watches the surf and paces.
"This is a really, really bad idea." Izuku reminds himself. "Going into that speed the first time made my hair fall out, why would I do it again? Sure, I could save a lot of people moving that fast. If I could keep it up, I could cover the entire country in a blink, but that would mean putting too much stress on my body! That's insane. No way. No way! If I wanted to do that, I'd…"
And then he stops, looking over the beach.
"I'd have to train." There's a moment of hesitation before the surf begins to slow. He can feel something in his head throbbing, a faint warning not to push himself. It's funny, he thinks, that a year and a half ago he'd never have noticed that. Working out and studying his anatomy has changed the way he considers his body in the first place, and now he can feel it adjusting.
Long before he reaches his maximum he stops. But the sand still hangs in midair as he walks over the beach. He blinks and breathes and stumbles in real time as the world crawls alongside him. There's a faint roar as the waves hit the surf but it's a mess, not the calming sound of midnight tides that he knows. At this speed, not quite supersonic but close enough, he can hear all the distortions in the sound.
He steps up the steps when he feels it. A familiar burning in his muscles, the reminder that he's pushing himself towards a limit. Izuku grins as he lays his fingers on the handrail, then whoops as he pushes off the bottom step and overtakes the entire staircase in a leap.
Maybe there's a spiderweb of cracks on the stairs now, but Izuku couldn't care less. There's still something for him to work towards.
He can get used to the sound of silence.
-000000-
When he wakes up at six am on Tuesday, he pries himself out of bed and sets himself down in his desk chair. There's a new notebook on his desk, left there last night, and the title only gives him pause for a moment before he picks up his pencil.
Anomaly Zero: Midoriya Izuku
Quirk: Superpower
He takes a little bit to write down everything he remembers from his old routines. Luckily, he has those documented somewhere, so he digs it up and writes those down. Then he puts in the date and starts with a simple diary entry.
At this time, Midoriya's body has proven capable of withstanding steel weapons, bullets, blast waves from improvised bombs, impact collision with a vehicle moving 60 Kph, and the attacks of too many villains to count, as well as All Might the number one hero of the time.
The following will be carefully documented research by the subject to figure out what his top operating speed is and how to push that even further.
He starts by sitting back and thinking. A pencil rolls though his fingers casually as he spins in the chair, and then he groans. It's barely been a minute and he's pushing back into his desk a little too hard.
"Idiot," He mutters quietly, scratching his head. "Start at the beginning. Focus on the process, then dissect it. It has to start somewhere, it's a bodily process so…"
After a few minutes he grabs a stopwatch from his closet and props it up on the desk. Once he's thrown together a rough timetable, he hits the button and tries to "speed up".
The numbers slow to a crawl, and suddenly he's watching milliseconds pass like seconds. When he grabs his pencil, he blinks and frowns.
Is it worth losing an entire journal trying to write at super speed?
No. No it isn't.
-000000-
Izuku isn't really sure why he texted Kābā before class. He's resigned to the fact that his friends are upset with him, and that's fine. Jumping in front of a bomb wasn't the best way of resolving that situation (he resolves to work on his jumping ability somehow). Despite the restless anxiety in his heart he's content to let them work through it. And if they can't deal with it then Izuku has to accept that. They shouldn't have to deal with his craziness if they don't want to.
One thing that he realizes when he FINALLY makes it to school is that this whole "timekeeping" thing is completely ridiculous. He's spent the entire morning switching back and forth between hyperawareness and baseline. So far, he's got an idea of how he can do it without moving, but it feels like flexing in place or trying to move something with his mind (he would know he tried for fourteen years). There's a process to it, and he's not quite there yet.
Kābā is… tense. He comes into class and comments on Izuku's haircut, which is more than Izuku deserves. When the other boy decides to tap out Izuku lets him go easily. It feels odd, watching the people around him slow down and speed up between sentences.
It gives him a lot of time to think, though. Even if his headache is getting kind of bad. He can't help thinking that half the day is over when class starts.
One look at the clock proves that he's got far too much time left in the day.
"I'm sorry, sensei." Izuku bows at the waist, knowing that he's giving more than necessary. There's a noise of shock from the man in front of him when he does it, but nothing to stop him from continuing. "Even after everything you've done for me, I was rude, and I ignored your advice. Please forgive my ungratefulness."
Kurobayashi-sensei doesn't say anything before he sighs and turns to actually face Izuku.
"Please stand up, Midoriya-kun, you've done nothing to demand this type of apology." Kurobayashi takes off his glasses and blinks a few times as Izuku stands up. "I believe I was rude as well and might have overstepped. I owe you just as much of an apology."
"Could we… just say we forgive everything and talk about it later then?" Izuku tries, hoping that for once he can skip the whole 'lecture' portion. After a moment, his teacher makes a noise that sounds like a cough, something Izuku knows very well his sensei is incapable of.
"Yes, I suppose cutting to the chase might be best for both of us. What did you want to talk about, Midoriya-kun?"
"I want to test my speed." One of the things Izuku likes about Kurobayashi-sensei is that the man takes time to turn things over in his head. He can almost see the gears turning as his teacher taps his glasses against his thigh.
"And I take it you have some ideas?"
"Yes, Sensei."
"Did something happen?"
"I… Do you want me to tell you what happened or to tell you why I want to test this?"
"Tell me both, in that order. I'll keep my reservations for later, perhaps over tea."
"I saved some people from an attack. A bombing," Second reason for enjoying Kurobayashi-sensei's company: the man can't make faces of shock during Izuku's explanations. "And I managed to speed up to… Well, too fast. I couldn't keep it up."
"A bomb, hmm? Interesting." Kurobayashi-sensei stands up and stretches, then motions for Izuku to follow him. "So you're looking to improve your ability to move at those kinds of speeds? That would be an incredible power. But that also sounds difficult."
"I thought so as well, sensei. I was hoping you could get a few more of those dummies. Or that you could introduce me to the person who built the one we have so I could get more."
"That should be fine. He's a rather small-time support worker, but he enjoys projects like this. I believe his son is an aspiring engineer as well." Kurobayashi-sensei rumbles curiously.
"That would be very helpful."
"So, how shall we go about this?"
"I'd like to try moving around the field at high speeds if you wouldn't mind observing. If that's too much trouble I can get a camera set up."
"No, that will be fine. However, we will be here later to use the fields. Surely one or two won't have students, but are you sure you're okay letting people see?"
"They won't be able to see much, Sensei."
"Perhaps I misunderstood, Midoriya," Kurobayashi-sensei stops in the middle of the hall and turns, peering at Izuku with one eye. "What speed are we talking about, here?"
"Supersonic, sensei," Izuku swallows and forces himself to smile up at the shark. "And… maybe faster."
After a moment, his teacher turns to face him and takes a knee on the linoleum.
"Midoriya-kun. I'd like to discuss these things with your mother at some point if we're going to continue. So that you and I can be on the same page regarding your… ability. And how we're going to train you."
"That's fine, sir. You can meet Eri," Izuku winces when he remembers the last time the two of them talked about Eri. But Kurobayashi-sensei makes a little humming noise and stands up, already putting the argument behind them.
"I'd quite like that. Perhaps I'll bring my wife along. How does tea this weekend sound?"
"I'll check with my mom and tell you tomorrow, but it should be fine. We'll have to stay at my apartment, though, Eri doesn't like people much."
"Completely understandable. It will give you time to tell me about her." With a twist the shark aims a single black eye at him. "I'd like to see your parenting for my own eyes before I judge you prematurely again."
"That… That sounds ominous, sensei,"
"You're my student, Midoriya-kun, I expect the best from you. Especially if that little girl depends on you."
Well, there's nothing he can say to that, is there?
Once he's done talking with Kurobayashi-sensei, he pushes his speed as far as he dares and creeps through the school. He finds his friends up on the roof, looking a bit tired. They're together, though, so that's good.
-000000-
"Izuku, honey, come help me with dinner please?"
"Coming!" Eri giggles as he flies them through the living room and into the kitchenette. Over the past few months, it's become normal for his mother to let him handle the knives at dinner, when he has the time. Homework passes relatively quickly when he can read three orders of magnitude faster than most people, even if he has to read things three or four times. It helps that it's Wednesday, and they've got a relatively light workload in the middle of the week.
Normally he'd take Eri off his shoulders for this, but a bit of inspiration has him pulling her forward, wrapping her arms around his head so she can steady herself.
"Wanna see something cool, Eri-chan?" He feels her nod against his curls and grins when she inhales sharply.
For the moment, he forgets about all the little worries he's got about moving too fast. He picks up the knife, turns it over under Eri's eyes a few times, and pushes himself until the world around him is picture perfect.
Chopping the vegetables feels natural at this speed. He makes a point of moving slowly, even though he knows he's probably going to leave little breeze in the room when he's done. The knife feels like a ballpoint pen against his fingers when he messes up his grip.
Before he realizes it, he's done. He tries to turn when he realizes Eri is still on his shoulders, staring down at his knife hand while gripping his hair. A smile breaks out as he sets down the knife and sets his hands on the cutting board.
"All done!" Eri gasps when she looks at the pile of freshly cut veggies and wheezes a bit as his finger slip up to tickle her sides.
"How'd you do that!"
"What are you talking about? Didn't you see?"
"No! You cheated!"
"There aren't any rules in chopping vegetables!" Eri giggles again at the quip and Izuku cleans the knife. He sorts the vegetables as they debate what "auntie" could be making, then pecks his mother on the cheek. When they head back into the living room, he grabs her knees and grins as he bends over so she dangles from his shoulders.
She's been laughing lately, so he's done his best to bring it out of her whenever they play like this. When it started, he can't say. Probably sometime before Overhaul's arrest. But these little things, playing airplanes and drawing with her, have been the few moments he can actually take a load off.
Eri seems to bring out the best in him.
Apparently, he can only do that for other people. Which isn't terrible, but it would be nice if he could do it for himself too. Maybe then Tachibana wouldn't be so worried.
They're sitting around the table when his mother looks up and her smile tightens.
"How are your friends? I'm surprised they haven't come over yet," Worry edges into her expression as Izuku hesitates.
"I haven't heard from anyone this week. Kābā seems frustrated. He's been doodling in class again." Izuku stabs his chopsticks into his rice and frowns. "I'm not surprised they're mad though."
"I'm sure they'll come around. We both know that sometimes people care too much," Izuku shares a sheepish grin with his mother as she drinks some of her soup, "But you're a sweet young man, and those kids are strong. They'll come back soon, honey."
"I know." Izuku sighs, letting his smile die slowly as he watches Eri eat her omelets. "Kurobayashi-sensei and his wife said they can come over on Sunday. Is that still okay?"
"Of course, sweetie. I'd love to meet him." His mother grins as she reaches over and rubs a napkin corner over Eri's cheek. "He's the first teacher who ever really invested in you, he must be special."
"Just, eh… His quirk, mom,"
"The shark quirk?" She laughs and waves a hand, takes a bite and swallows before he can say anything else. "Izuku, honey, one of my best friends back in college had a centipede for a head. We'll get along fine!"
(Izuku makes a habit of taking pictures, but from then on, he makes it a point to photograph people's faces as he introduces Kurobayashi-sensei. Eri, despite his initial worry was so in awe of Kurobayashi-sensei that she stared at him constantly and even sat in the man's lap. His mother, on the other hand… He finally manages to catch that weird thing where her eyes bug out of her head in the photos, and they'll laugh about those photos for years.)
-000000-
Kurobayashi-sensei's friend is named Genji-kun. He's got a black beard that's surprisingly fluffy, bright orange eyes and a chest like a barrel. Izuku can't help fidgeting when the man shows up after school on Thursday with nine boxes full of the special dummies.
"So THIS is your mystery student, Kurobayashi!" The man's laugh is like thunder when he grabs Izuku's hand and shakes it hard enough to jostle him up to the shoulder. "I've got to say, I expected him to be taller."
"Genji-kun, this is Midoriya Izuku-kun, a student of mine." Kurobayashi-sensei rumbles pleasantly, clasping Genji-kun's hand tightly. "You remember our deal, I trust?"
"Of course! Trust me, I can't wait to see it."
"Uh," Izuku winces as the pair turn to him. "Deal?"
"I offered for Genji-kun here to watch your practice today." Kurobayashi-sensei rumbles, blinking three times. "If you don't mind too much, Midoriya-kun."
"W-well… Since he's providing the dummies, I guess I can't complain,"
"Great!" Genji-kun chuckles as he hoists a pair of dummies up under his arms. "Where do you want these?"
Izuku sighs, then runs a hand over his eyes.
"Could you set those two down there at the far end while I set these others on the opposite end?"
The athletic fields are finally empty around five thirty, leaving Izuku with ten dummies on the inside edge of the running track and a pair of cameras set up on either end. His teacher and Genji-kun stand on the outer edge of the track behind him as he runs through a few stretches.
Izuku is nervous about having the stranger around, but he trusts Kurobayashi-sensei a lot. More than almost anyone. Compared to every other teacher Izuku has ever known, the man has worried over him more than anyone but Izuku's own mother.
At the end of the day, Izuku has to get over his fear of being treated differently.
Well, that day isn't today but he might as well start somewhere.
"Sensei, on your mark. The button will activate all the targets, right?"
"Of course! I hooked them all up to the remote." Genji-kun grins as he looks at the teacher, who simply chuckles. Izuku sighs, then walks to the middle of the field and gets into his stance. "How fast are you planning on hitting all the targets, kid?"
"The field is around 400 meters around," Izuku called, checking each target's distance from him before taking a breath to steady his frantic heart, "I want to hit all of them in half a second."
"That's how long it takes to get a reading off the sensors, kid! You'd have to cover hundreds of square meters in seconds to manage that!"
"On my mark, Midoriya-kun."
"Kurobayashi, what the hell are you feeding this kid?"
"Remember our bet, Genji-kun."
"Hasn't anyone ever told this kid to be realistic?"
"He's being modest, actually."
Izuku can't help smiling at the way his sensei says that. Someone seems to think he can manage it. He isn't sure he's be able to yet, but it's nice to be trusted.
"3, 2, 1…"
The noise draws out into a long groan, and then it ceases to exist. It takes everything Izuku has to push off his right foot before he shoots forward like a rocket. For a fraction of a second, he feels the air drawing tight around him. An ocean presses against his face as he carves a wake through the air.
His first target is just somewhere around eighty meters in front of him, at the far end of the track directly from his starting point. Panic fills him when his foot skips and scorches the ground, but the blow lands. A feather touch, moving at this speed. Then he spins and leaps towards the other end of the track.
Kurobayashi-sensei told him that he should take a straight route. Izuku isn't giving himself the option. He never takes the easy route.
A headache is already brewing when he spins from the second target and streaks toward the third. But he grinds his teeth and puts a little more power behind his moves. Once an object breaks the sound barrier, there's nothing stopping it. He's free now, and the world is chasing him.
Is this how All Might feels? No wonder that guy LAUGHS at villainy.
Five takes a lot more effort than three did. He's changing up moves, too. The first blow was a straight, the second a left hook, his third was an uppercut… Gears don't do this kind of power justice anymore, so Izuku just does whatever he can. Each move feels natural at the time, based on the distance and his momentum.
Tears are leaking from his eyes by the time he hits number eight. Moving alone is making his entire body ache, but there's a clear number on each target's timer. Izuku is running out of time. Every breath burning in his lungs reminds him that he's about to lose.
Of course, the last run is the longest. From the target right beside his first target to the one directly across from it, left of his second. A diagonal rush across the field. The distance isn't as bad as his second leap, but he's not fresh.
His foot slips when he tries to jump, and he barely manages to catch himself.
A curse escapes him as his trailing leg slides under him and forces him forward, parallel to the ground but not even a meter from dragging his face through the dirt. His open palm hits the dummy's chest while his head passes it, overshooting with no clear way to stop.
Izuku and the target both go sprawling when he lets go of his acceleration. His body relaxes and a blast shakes the school while he rolls across the track. The target bounces, luckily, and when it stops lands faceup twenty meters from Izuku's resting place. Kurobayashi and Genji are both standing over him when Izuku blinks and winces at the sheer animosity of his headache.
"What the actual hell, kid? Aren't you quirkless?"
"Perhaps now isn't the time, Genij-kun. Midoriya are you alright?"
"My head hurts, Sensei, but I'm okay… What's the time?"
"Kid you just exploded. Take a second before we worry about that."
"Please, Genji-kun. I'll get Midoriya situated. I'd like to know who won our bet as well."
"You're a real shark sometimes, you know that? Fine, get the kid up." Genji sighs as he walks over to right the last dummy, leaving Kurobayashi-sensei to sit Izuku up and hold his shoulder with a meaty hand.
"He's not wrong, Midoriya-kun. You're pushing this rather hard. And you already don't take care of yourself enough."
"Sensei please," Izuku groans, wincing at the aftereffects of his stunt. "I told you, this is the only way for me to improve now, pushing it is just…"
"We both know that's not true. Didn't I tell you?" Kurobayashi-sensei sighs as he gives Izuku a hand up, then pats him on the shoulder. "Building strength is about patience and diligence, not pushing yourself to the breaking point."
"I thought building muscle required breaking muscle," Izuku grins a bit, then winces at the agony sewn into his abs.
"Don't be a smart ass, Midoriya-kun."
"Language, Sensei," Izuku huffs, dragging himself to the dummy and Genji-kun, who seems frozen. "I might pick up bad habits if you're not careful."
"You learned those long before I came around, Midoriya-kun." Kurobayashi-sensei rumbles. Izuku stops, then grins when he sees the screen on the front of the dummy. "Genji-kun, I believe I won the bet."
"You cheated, you damn shark! Who in their right mind would have believed you?"
"It's only two thousand yen, my friend, nothing to get upset over."
"I beg to differ! You're buying me a drink with that money!"
Izuku just laughs as the pair bicker back and forth.
The screen reads one solid hit at 1.001 seconds after the start. Apparently, he's got room for improvement.
When he reaches home that night, he opens his new notebook to the first page and stares at it for a little while. Before he goes to bed, he decides science is worth more than his modesty.
Anomaly Zero: Midoriya Izuku
Quirk:Superpower Limitless Broken
Unlimited potential
-000000-
By the time class starts on Friday, Izuku has to admit that he has a problem.
His little stunt at dinner on Wednesday led to a couple more experiments moving at high speed in class on Thursday. No one seemed to notice how fast he was writing in math class, but apparently, he was noticeably out of sorts. Then there was his failure after school. It's a bit ridiculous that he feels totally refreshed after a night of sleep. Not that he's complaining.
Getting to the station by his house was easy enough. He can walk lightly enough at speed that he doesn't leave cracks behind unless he pushes off. Slowly pushing himself up to supersonic seems to give him more time to adjust, which saves him on the headache.
Walking through school in super speed promises to be a whole new issue. For one he'll be dodging literal crowds of people, and he won't know until after he slows down whether anyone actually saw him or not. Then there's the issue of walking into class. He hasn't worked everything out yet, but there's not exactly anything to lose.
Unless the sonic bursts leave the school in chaos when he sits down. He still isn't sure what happens from other people's point of view when he moves that fast. All the different ways this can go wrong makes his head swim.
The cars crossing the street slow to a halt as Izuku takes a breath. Everyone in the street and the courtyard is still as a statue, leaving a maze for him to navigate as he walks into the school. It burns a bit even after a week. Moving at this kind of speed actually takes effort once he's through the courtyard. Stairs are a fresh hell he never thought about, but he manages to get through without touching anyone and reaches the door to his classroom fairly easily.
Letting go proves to be the most difficult part. Izuku is terrified of what's about to happen. He can't help thinking that the school will break down under the strain of his steps, or that maybe a sonic blast could hurt someone. When the distorted sounds grinding against his ears start speeding up, Izuku just shuts his eyes and prays.
He opens the door as some people down in the courtyard shout, but other than a faint breeze, no one seems to say anything. It takes everything he has not to collapse into his chair and cry with relief.
-000000-
Izuku takes a half day on Saturday with his mom's permission, claiming that he's still not feeling well when his homeroom teacher brings up his absence from Monday. Admittedly, he's ahead of the curriculum a bit and he's comfortable taking the time out. There's too much to do now that he's messed up his Routine. Eri wants to go to the park this afternoon, and it looks like a nice day for it. Doing community service is nice but he needs a couple of his supervisors to sign off on the additions to his resume. Which means he has three appointments (two construction companies and a rescue agency) all across town that he needs to be at.
Oh, and Genji-kun wanted to meet and talk about the training he did on Thursday. Kurobayashi-sensei claims the man is a workaholic. Izuku has no idea what to expect.
He's wandering out of his first appointment at a quarter to one when he gets an alert on his phone, notifying him of a villain attack in the area. A fire villain is fighting Backdraft three blocks over, and the fight has been going on for nearly twenty minutes now. Firetrucks will be there soon but there's no end in sight, considering the villain is smart enough to keep Backdraft on the defensive.
Izuku sighs as he wanders in that direction. Sadly, it's right on his way, and he doesn't feel like taking a detour. Backdraft is a pretty good guy. He doesn't deserve a bad headline today.
Before he can cross the street to reach the crowd watching the fight, he sees a pair of blondes at the end of his block doing the same. Izuku pauses for a second when he notices the oversized mustard suit hanging off the spindly giant, then peers at the girl following the man. Reading about David Shield had been shocking, and more shocking was the verdict that All Might would be the adoptive guardian of Melissa Shield.
All Might's personal life isn't any of his business. Izuku has absolutely no right to get involved with them. On the other hand, if All Might is thinking of burning his time here… Well, that's ridiculous. This is just a B-rank villain at the end of the day. No need for All Might to show up here. He's busy, clearly.
Instead of going in from the crowd, Izuku wanders to the end of the block and follows the blondes. He shoulders past All Might as he accelerates and jumps over the crowd, then puts the villain in a shallow grave. Morbid, sure, but it's gentle enough that the punk is unconscious at worst. By the time everyone in the crowd blinks, Izuku is standing beside All Might adjusting his backpack. The hero pukes up some blood, shocked by the display, but Izuku decides to ignore that.
"Save your time, Yagi-sama." He catches the panic in the girl's voice as everyone catches up and he can't help thinking of the times when Tachibana caught him doing hero work. "And take better care of yourself. If not for yourself then for her."
Bakugō's words echo in his mind as he wanders down the street, and suddenly he feels miserable. Well… He's only got a few more errands to run. Then he can take Eri to the park.
Next month won't be as busy. He's stronger now than he was. Izuku just has to keep telling himself that.
Monday evening, October 1st
What is the definition of a room?
Because this is a room, in a sense. There are no doors, no windows, no real light sources. Only a long glass table lined with padded chairs, and a projector hanging from the ceiling. Light fills the room from somewhere, though no one is sure where. Just enough to see, enough the dimensions are uncertain, and the shadows make distance between targets murky.
Everyone in the room is nervous. There isn't a person alive who wants to be in this room, but here they are. Several people stare at one another, wondering exactly how they came to be there. Giran makes sense, considering they ALL know Giran. But several of them are heroes and sidekicks, CEOs and even members of the Police Force still in uniform. High ranking ones, too.
The tension in the room continues to climb after they've all arrived, courtesy of the pair sitting at the front of the room. One looks like some kind of horror movie monster, playing with blue fire and snickering as they fidget. He's dressed in bloody rags and running a cold eye over them as if he'd like nothing more than to burn them all alive. In the business, he's the type of hired gun that makes people nervous: too far gone to reel in once you let him go, too powerful to try and keep on a leash.
Somehow, though, the bloody nightmare isn't the greatest threat in the room. For whatever reason, the nightmare looks to the man in the cloak for directions. And the man in the cloak has a look in his eyes that promises death. They know that at one point, this person wore real human hands, but those are gone. Most don't know his name, but they know of the hands. Now there's only the black rags and… something in the air.
When the man in the cloak stands the room stills. His eyes focus on the table, as if he's only just stepped into the room, and Shigaraki Tomura smiles like death incarnate.
"We start the attack on U.A., and All Might, today," He offers gently, extending both palms to the crowd of villains before him. "As of now, we are at war with the heroes. Either you're with us… Or you're against us."
Behind him, a screen lights up with a newsfeed, showing an apartment building with blue flames bursting from one of the windows, spreading to those beside it as if they'd doused the building in napalm. No one knows when the nightmare disappeared from the wall, but not a single person thinks to fight Shigaraki Tomura now that he's alone.
When no one says anything, his fingers settle on the glass table. The only warning, before several people are screaming and the table is gone, is a crack. Villains stare as their own are turned to dust, writhing on the ground or stumbling through the crowd. It spreads like a plague, but they quickly isolate the victims.
Not quickly enough to save the fifteen whose ashes cover the stone floor, but quickly, nonetheless.
"I'm not a mind reader, gentlemen… and ladies," Shigaraki says lazily, hiding his hands in the rags of his cloak. "And I believe I asked you a question."