The two fingers in Izuku's bandaged hand throbbed. It was nothing like the chaotic explosion of agony when his entire arm had shattered during the entrance exam. But damn did it still hurt.
"You treated your body like a disposable tool, young man," Recovery Girl had said, her grandmotherly tone hardened. She'd tapped his bandaged fingers with her cane. "This is progress, I suppose. But it is still an injury born from a lack of control."
She'd fixed him with a stare that made him want to shrink. "Every time you break yourself, you're not just damaging your body. You're wasting precious time. Time your body needs to heal. Time your teachers need to train you. Time All Might needs to—" She'd caught herself then, glancing at the closed door of the infirmary. "Well. You understand what I mean."
Izuku did understand. All too well. All Might was running on borrowed time, the embers of One For All flickering dimmer with each transformation.
Izuku needed to master his power efficiently. He couldn't afford to be a glass cannon anymore, shattering himself with each attack. He needed to become a marksman rather than a wrecking ball.
He flexed his uninjured hand, watching the play of tendons beneath his skin. One For All still felt alien inside him, a raging current barely contained by the fragile banks of his body. But today had been a small victory. Two fingers instead of an entire arm. Pain instead of hospitalization.
Through the windows of Alliance Heights, Izuku could see a crowd gathered in the common room—Kaminari's bright yellow hair, Ashido's pink skin, Iida's rigid posture, and at least six or seven others. They were clustered together, leaning in close and whispering. Every few seconds, a head would turn toward the entrance before snapping back to the group.
Were they waiting for me?
Maybe he should turn around, come back later when everyone had dispersed.
No. He couldn't keep running away. Taking a deep breath, Izuku pushed through the door.
Conversations halted. All eyes turned toward him. Kaminari looked at him, his eager expression falling slightly in disappointment. Sero and Kirishima had the same reaction. They weren't waiting for him.
Izuku's shoulders sagged in relief. Then, a familiar heat crept up his neck. Of course they weren't waiting for him.
"Broccoli! Your hand! Is it okay?"
"O-oh, Uraraka-san!" Izuku felt heat rush to his face at the nickname. He held up his bandaged hand. "Y-yeah, it's fine. Recovery Girl fixed it right up."
"Did you see Murano or Bakugo there?" Jiro asked from the edge of the group. Her earphone jacks twitched slightly. "We heard there was a... situation."
"M-Murano-kun was there," Izuku confirmed. "He had this nasty burn on his chest. Does anyone know what happened?"
The question was like tossing a match into gasoline. The entire group erupted.
"It was a clash for alpha status! The two top dogs fighting for the attention of the—"
"It wasn't like that!" Kirishima cut Mineta off, his sharp teeth flashing in a grimace. "Bakugo was going off about you, Midoriya, and saying some really unmanly stuff about Quirkless people, and Murano just... snapped."
"Dude, he didn't just snap, he teleported!" Kaminari jumped in, his hands making an explosive gesture. "One second he's over there, the next, BAM! Bakugo's on the floor!"
"This is no laughing matter!" Iida's hand chopped through the air like a karate master. "Their actions were a flagrant violation of U.A.'s code of conduct! They could both face expulsion!"
"IT WAS A FATEFUL ENCOUNTER!" Manga's speech bubble head displayed "CLASH!!" in bold comic font. "THE CALM RIVAL AND THE FIERY RIVAL, THEIR IDEALS COLLIDING IN A BLAZE OF YOUTHFUL PASSION!"
Izuku tried to process this barrage of information. Bakugo and Murano had fought? Over... him? Over Quirkless people? It seemed impossible. Murano had only just met him. Why would he defend Quirkless people so passionately?
"Okay, but Bakugo was being a total jerk," Ashido interjected, her golden eyes serious despite her bubbly demeanor. "It's actually kind of cool that Murano stood up for someone like that."
"His methods were reckless, kero, but his reasoning was sound," Asui added, her large eyes unblinking. "Bullying is never acceptable."
"I understand the sentiment," Yaoyorozu said carefully, her tall frame straight with dignity, "but we must consider the implications. Fighting on school grounds, using Quirks against another student... these are serious infractions."
"The rules exist for a reason," Iida insisted, his glasses flashing. "No matter how righteous one's motivations, a hero cannot resort to vigilante justice. It sets a dangerous precedent."
"But sometimes you gotta stand up for what's right, man," Kirishima countered, clenching his fist. "That's what makes a real man."
"I think we're missing key details," Todoroki spoke up for the first time, his heterochromatic eyes calm and analytical. "We don't know what set Murano off specifically."
"Do you think they'll really get expelled?" Hagakure's floating uniform bobbed anxiously.
"On the first day? That would be harsh, even for U.A.," Sero scratched his elbow nervously.
Izuku watched the debate unfold. He filed the reactions away. Iida and Yaoyorozu, bound by rules. Kirishima and Ashido, driven by intent. Todoroki watched everyone, his own motives impossible to read. Half the class seemed to admire Murano's stand against bullying, while others were concerned with the breach of rules. And Bakugo...
The main door swung open again.
Bakugo stood there. A purple bruise swelled across his cheek, nearly closing one eye.
Iida, seemingly immune to the waves of murderous intent radiating from Bakugo, marched forward.
"Bakugo-kun! Your behavior was unacceptable! You must acknowledge the consequences of your actions and apologize to—"
"Shut it, Four-eyes."
The venom in Bakugo's voice could have melted steel. He didn't break stride as he stalked past the stunned group, his good eye sweeping over them all. When his gaze landed on Izuku, it narrowed with such familiar hatred that Izuku took an instinctive step back.
Bakugo continued to the stairs without another word, his footsteps heavy on the steps. A moment later, the sound of his door slamming echoed throughout the common room, making several students flinch.
Silence reigned for several seconds.
"Well..." Uraraka said finally, her voice small in the tension-filled air. "I guess we just have to wait for Murano."
Izuku had known Bakugo for years, had been the target of his aggression and disdain. But he'd never seen him like this. He was physically bested and publicly humiliated. Yet the clench of his fists and the hate in his one good eye promised violence.
And Murano... He had teased him, invited him to dinner. He was the first real friend Izuku had made here. Why would he attack Bakugo over a comment about Quirkless people?
It struck Izuku that his assessment of his new classmates needed serious revision. He'd been so focused on their Quirks, their physical abilities, their potential as heroes. But there were deeper currents running beneath the surface—personal histories, complex motivations, hidden wounds.
Izuku stepped back, his social battery already drained from the day's events.
He reached his door, the sound of Bakugo's slam still echoing in his ears. He looked at Murano's door, just down the hall. For all his analysis, he realized he knew nothing about the boy who had started a war on his behalf.