Ok so i need something from yall to motivate me. anything a comment, review, power stone anything hell even just a smiley emoji in the comments would have been nice but 10k views with nothing its a little disheartening. Out of all of you who viewed this and I only have 1 comment on the last iteration of this fanfic interaction, yall make me want to put out more content. If I get nothing it makes me drag my feet on writing. Sorry for dumping this i feel like i need yall to know this any way enjoy the chapter
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Chapter 7 – The Results Begin
The noise of the arena had faded into a dull hum behind him.
Izuku walked the long path from Zone C toward U.A.'s front gate, the wrecked mock city stretching behind like a battlefield frozen mid-breath. His arms hung heavy, skin marked with small scrapes and cuts. Every few steps his shadow flickered, reminding him that power didn't vanish just because the fight was over.
The sky was bright now, the late-day light sharp enough to sting his tired eyes. He'd done what he came to do—proved the power didn't control him anymore. Now he just wanted to make it to the gate before his legs decided to quit.
The plaza ahead buzzed with examinees filtering out from their zones. Most were silent, dazed, or laughing in relief. The adrenaline had burned out of everyone at once. Izuku found a stretch of railing near the front entrance and leaned on it, breathing in the smell of dust and hot metal. For the first time in hours, no alarms were sounding.
"Found you," a familiar voice said.
He looked up as Nerissa jogged across the plaza, braid coming loose, light still fading from her hands. She slowed when she reached him, scanning his face like she half-expected him to collapse.
"You're upright," she said, smiling tiredly.
"Barely." His voice came rough from disuse. "You good?"
"Nothing a nap and a meal won't fix." She reached up, brushing dirt from his cheek with her thumb. "You look worse."
"Feel better than I look," he said.
"Mm-hmm." She didn't sound convinced. A faint glow bloomed around her palm as she touched the edge of a small cut near his jaw. The warmth ran through his skin and the ache disappeared. "There. Now you look slightly less like you wrestled a tank."
"I won," he said, deadpan.
"That's what scares me."she said while leaning into him.
Her laugh blended into the noise of other students spilling out through the gates.
Moments later, Shōko appeared from the opposite path, uniform sleeve torn and a faint line of soot across her cheek. She raised a hand in greeting. Then walked over to Izuku's side and rested her shoulder against his. Izuku gave a small press against it in acknowledgement. That was all either of them needed.
Momo arrived last, calm even now, hair pinned neatly despite the thin layer of dust on her jacket. Her eyes flicked over Izuku, then to Nerissa's glowing hand. "Let me guess—he overdid it."
"He always does," Nerissa said fondly.
"I can hear you both," Izuku muttered.
Momo smiled faintly and reached out to straighten the collar of his ruined shirt. "And yet you don't deny it."
"No point," he said, though the edge of a grin betrayed him.
They stood together for a long moment at the gate, the four of them shoulder to shoulder while the crowd thinned. None of them asked what had happened in the others' zones. It didn't matter. The way their clothes were torn and the quiet steadiness in their eyes said enough.
Nerissa moved between them, closing small scrapes and sealing cuts with quick, practiced touches. Each time she finished, the glow dimmed a little more. By the end, her own hands were trembling, but she smiled through it. "There. Back to full health again."
"Barely," Shōko said.
"Good enough," Momo replied. "Our driver's waiting at the curb."
Izuku blinked. "You actually brought the car?"
"Of course," she said, tone matter-of-fact. "We'll all need rest."
Nerissa stretched with a groan. "As long as it has seats, I'm not arguing."
They walked together toward the exit road. The city beyond U.A.'s walls shimmered in afternoon haze. Near the curb, a sleek black sedan idled—polished and discreet, Yaoyorozu crest faint on the door. The driver bowed as they approached and opened the doors.
Shōko slid in first, claiming the window seat. Nerissa followed, muttering something about "civilized transport." Momo turned back toward Izuku, her voice gentler now. "You coming?"
He lingered a second, looking back through the open gates. From here the mock cities were just silhouettes against the light, quiet and still again. It was hard to believe that a few hours ago the air had been full of thunder.
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm coming."
Momo smiled—relief softening the exhaustion in her face—and stepped aside so he could climb in and she slid in right beside him. The door shut with a muted click, sealing the outside noise away.
As the car pulled from the curb, none of them spoke. The silence didn't need filling. It was enough to know they'd all made it through.
Izuku leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-closed, letting the hum of the engine fade into the sound of their breathing. For the first time all day, the weight in his chest felt light.
Momo reached for his hand, her fingers brushing his for a moment. "We did well," she said quietly.
He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed her hand once. "We did."
Outside, the U.A. gates grew smaller in the rear window until they disappeared behind a turn in the road.
--
The footage from the day's exam played in looping silence across half a dozen screens, each one labeled with a zone letter. Afternoon light slanted through the tall windows of U.A.'s main conference room, catching in the steam rising from Nezu's teacup.
Around the table, the teachers watched and took notes.
Aizawa looked exhausted as usual; Present Mic vibrated with restless pride; Cementoss and Power Loader discussed structural damage numbers in low tones.
At the far end sat Chase Ryland, the pro once known as Track Star (he's from dispatch a new game, it's really good). He's an older looking gentleman with dark skin and silver hair. His hands rested on the silver-tipped cane between his knees, posture arched over slightly due to the aches that time had written into him. His eyes were old but fast; they missed nothing.
---
Reviewing Zone C
Nezu tapped a claw against the remote. "Zone C—Midoriya Izuku. Let's start here."
The central feed brightened to show Izuku's battle with the Zero Pointer: a storm of blue light, shadow constructs, and controlled devastation. When the image froze on the frame of the dragon folding its wings over the arena, even Present Mic fell quiet.
Cementoss broke the silence first. "He flattened the target without collapsing the entire street . That's pretty good control."
Aizawa grunted. "Or luck. Still too much raw power for a first-year."
All Might—sitting two seats down, half in shadow, thinner now in his civilian form—smiled faintly. "He knew exactly how far he could push. He's learning restraint faster than I ever did."
Nezu's whiskers twitched. "And he trusts the constructs—Igris and Kaelros—to act independently. That degree of delegation is unusual at his age."
Chase leaned forward a little, eyes fixed on the paused image. His voice was quiet, steady.
"He's not just fighting," he said. "He's testing how they handle his commands. The knight handles precision, the dragon handles field control. That's field tactics. He'll make an exceptional leader if he keeps that instinct pointed the right way."
Aizawa raised a brow. "You think he's ready to lead anyone?"
"Not yet," Chase said. "But he's practicing. You can see it in how he measures distance—he's learning to trust his team even when they're extensions of himself."
Present Mic leaned back, arms behind his head. "Gotta admit, it looked pretty flashy."
"Flashy can get you killed," Aizawa muttered.
Chase gave a thin smile. "So can hesitation. Balance matters more than either."
---
The Other Candidates
Nezu switched screens: Momo's tactical fabrications, Shōko's dual-element control, Nerissa's hybrid of healing and assaults.
Each teacher offered short notes—praise, small cautions—but the mood in the room was unmistakable: these four had stood out.
"All four came from the same private training network," Power Loader observed. "The synchronization's almost unnatural."
"Unnatural?" Nezu repeated, amusement in his tone. "Or practiced?"
All Might chuckled softly. "Practice, trust, and the right kind of stubbornness."
Aizawa sighed. "So we're letting a miniature team of prodigies into Class 1-A. Wonderful. I'll have to start keeping coffee in my capture scarf."
Nezu's eyes gleamed while cackling. "A problem I'm delighted for you to have, Shouta."
---
Aftermath
The monitors dimmed to standby. For a moment the room was filled only with the quiet hum of electronics.
Nezu looked to each of them in turn. "Final evaluations?"
"Pass," Cementoss said.
"Pass," Power Loader echoed.
Aizawa hesitated, then nodded once. "Pass—with supervision."
All Might inclined his head. "Pass. Without hesitation."
Chase was last. He tapped the cane lightly against the floor. "Pass—and watch him closely. He's the kind who'll bear every failure like it's his own. Don't let him forget he's human."
Nezu's small smile carried genuine warmth. "Wise counsel, Track Star."
Nezu straightened, tail curling behind him. "Then it's unanimous. Midoriya Izuku and his peers are accepted into U.A. university, pending formal notification."
He set down his teacup. "I'll prepare the letters tonight."
Aizawa groaned quietly. "You enjoy this too much."
"Of course I do," Nezu said brightly. "Watching new heroes begin is the only thing faster than time—and far less cruel."
Chase's laugh was low but genuine. "Speak for yourself. Time catches everyone eventually."
"Perhaps," Nezu said, eyes glinting. "But not before the next generation outruns it."
The teachers began to file out, the faint murmur of their conversation trailing down the hall. Chase lingered for a moment longer, gaze resting on the paused frame of Izuku and his dragon.
A hint of anticipation softened the lines in his face. "Keep running, kid," he murmured. "Just don't do it alone."
He turned, cane tapping lightly against the polished floor, and followed the others into the bright corridor beyond.
---
Three days had passed since the U.A. entrance exam,
Izuku woke every day after the exam sore but by the third sunrise, the ache in his muscles had faded, replaced by the heavier weight of waiting. The mail came at noon. The moment the small, silver disk slid through the slot onto his kitchen counter, his heart stopped.
He didn't open it right away.
Momo's message came five minutes later:
> Everyone meet at the estate. We open them together.
Of course they would.
The four of them sat around the same low table in Momo's study where they'd waited after the exam. Sunlight spilled through the wide windows, warming the polished floor.
Four disks lay in a neat row.
Nerissa spun hers idly between her fingers. "I swear it's mocking me. It knows I'm impatient."
Shōko folded her arms. "Then stop talking to it."
Momo smiled faintly. "We'll start as soon as everyone's ready."
Izuku rolled the cool metal between his palms, thumb brushing over the faint U.A. crest etched into its surface. "I'm ready."
"Good," Momo said, pressing her own disk first.
---
The Message
All four disks pulsed with synchronized light, projecting a wide holographic image above the table. The U.A. crest spun once, then dissolved into a bright, familiar figure.
All Might appeared in full hero costume, smile wide, cape billowing despite the static projection.
"HELLO, YOUNG HEROES!" His voice boomed through the room, cheerful even through the faint distortion. "If you're watching this, then your exam results are in — and let me tell you, they were spectacular!"
Beside him stood Chase Ryland, posture slightly hunched despite the cane in his hand. His expression was patient, amused.
"Principal Nezu insisted I be present," Chase said in the recording, "to ensure our Number One keeps to the script."
All Might laughed. "Guilty as charged! But the script says to begin with the top percentile, and that's all of you!"
Nerissa's mouth fell open. "Wait—what?"
The projection zoomed in slightly, All Might's grin impossibly brighter. "Yes indeed! You four scored among the highest-ranking examinees in U.A. history! Let's review individually!"
---
Individual Results
first came Nerissa — bursts of radiant light mixed with healing waves stabilizing fallen examinees.
"Yaoyorozu Momo!" All Might's voice filled the room. "Your intellect and composure under pressure were nothing short of professional. You ranked 4th overall! Welcome to U.A., young hero !"
"Ravencroft Nerissa!" All Might announced. "The first applicant in a decade to score perfect marks in both rescue and combat categories. You placed 3rd overall. U.A. is proud to have you!"
Nerissa grinned, unable to help herself. "Perfect marks. I'm putting that on a shirt."
Momo rolled her eyes fondly. "You'd have to design it first."
The hologram shifted to show Momo's footage from the exam — tactical creations unfolding mid-battle.
"Todoroki Shōko! Due to Power, Precision, balance, and restraint — you ranked second overall! Truly, the mark of someone who has mastered not just their power, but themselves."
The projection cut to Shōko's results — freezing blasts of air, flame control so refined it bent around debris.
Then the hologram cut to Izuku's zone. The frozen image of the Zero Pointer falling, Kaelros' wings spread wide.
All Might's tone softened, no less proud but layered with something deeper. "Midoriya Izuku. You achieved the highest score in the entire exam. Your performance demonstrated power, strategy, and compassion — the true marks of a hero."
Chase's recorded voice added, calm and deliberate, "More importantly, you knew when to stop. That balance will matter far more than numbers."
The projection froze for a heartbeat, then both heroes smiled in unison.
All Might's voice filled the room. ""Congratulations young mydoria, You ranked 1st overall! Welcome to U.A., young hero !"
"Congratulations," All Might said. "All four of you are officially accepted into U.A. High School!"
The hologram dissolved into the rotating crest of U.A., then faded into quiet light.
---
Aftermath
No one spoke for several seconds. The only sound was the faint hum of the projectors winding down.
Then Nerissa laughed, breathless. "We actually did it."
Shōko exhaled slowly, a hint of satisfaction behind her usual calm. "We earned it."
Momo's expression was gentle, eyes shining. "Together."
Izuku stared at the now-dark disk in his hands. For so long, U.A. had felt like an impossible dream — something just out of reach. But now, it was real. He looked up at his friends, at the faces that had carried him this far, and found his voice again.
"We did it," he said softly. "Next step… heroes."
Momo reached over, resting her hand lightly on his. "Next step: preparation. Heroes are made one day at a time."
Nerissa lifted her disk like a toast. "To day one, then."
Shōko gave a small nod. "Day one."
The sunlight caught the edge of Izuku's disk, scattering light across their faces. For the first time, the future didn't look like something to chase — it looked like something waiting to be built.
---
The gates of U.A. High looked different this time.
Not bigger, not brighter — just closer.
Izuku stood at the curb with a duffel slung over one shoulder, staring at the towering buildings beyond. The morning air buzzed faintly with the hum of city traffic and the electric tension of a new beginning.
Behind him, the familiar sound of Momo's family car door closing broke his trance.
"Still breathing?" Nerissa teased, stepping up beside him and bumping his hip with hers. "You've been staring at those gates for a full minute."
"Just making sure they're real," Izuku said.
"They're very real," Momo answered, her own bag neatly balanced on one arm. "And so is our enrollment. Try not to trip on the symbolism."
Shōko adjusted the strap on her bag, expression confused then settled into serious. "Symbolism doesn't trip you. Concrete does."
That earned a quiet laugh from all of them, enough to break the stiffness that had crept in.
The path up to the dorms wound between clean, gleaming buildings, each bearing the U.A. crest. Students milled about — new faces, different uniforms, all just as wide-eyed.
At the far end of the walk stood a tall, modern complex of glass and polished metal: Heights Alliance. Their new home.
---
A crowd of first-years gathered near the entrance. Teachers waited by the door to check names and hand out dorm assignments.
Izuku spotted All Might almost instantly — back in his slim civilian form, but still carrying that impossible aura of warmth. Beside him, leaning lightly on his cane and overseeing a tablet checklist, was Chase Ryland.
Even from a distance, Chase's presence grounded the crowd. Where All Might's enthusiasm filled space, Chase's calm steadied it.
"All right, young heroes!" All Might's voice carried effortlessly. "Welcome to your new home! Heights Alliance — where you'll eat, sleep, study, and grow stronger than you ever thought possible!"
"Or," Chase added snarkily without looking up from his list, "where you'll learn to do your laundry."
The laughter that rippled through the crowd broke the last of the nervous silence.
"Teamwork, responsibility, and rest are as important as training," Chase continued. "Nezu's words, not mine. You'll find your assigned dorms posted inside. Each floor is co-ed by class, divided into four wings. There's a curfew, and yes, we enforce it."
Momo's brow arched slightly. "He doesn't seem the curfew type."
Nerissa whispered back, "That's how you know he means it."
All Might caught sight of their small group and waved. "Ah! Young Midoriya, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, Ravencroft! Glad to see you all made it safely!"
They stepped forward, earning a few curious glances from other students. Their reputation from the exam had spread faster than any of them liked.
Chase handed them each a small access card. "Room numbers are encoded here. Elevator on the right. Common area on the ground floor. Kitchen's open twenty-four hours, though please don't test the smoke detectors."
"Does that happen often?" Izuku asked.
"Every year," Chase said, faint humor flickering in his eyes. "Usually before breakfast."
All Might's grin widened. "Consider it your first team-building exercise!"
"Or our first fine," Nerissa muttered.
Chase heard her anyway and smirked. "Both."
---
The Dorms
Inside, Heights Alliance felt more like a modern hotel than student housing. Wide hallways gleamed with fresh paint; sunlight poured through floor-length windows; the air smelled faintly of new wood and detergent.
The elevator chimed softly as they reached the third floor, their assigned level. Room numbers glowed in neat holographic script above each door.
"Room 3-A," Momo read. "That's me."
"3-B," Shōko said.
"3-C," Nerissa grinned. "Looks like we're neighbors."
Izuku checked his card. "3-D."
"Of course," Momo said. "In order. Nezu must have planned it."
"I think he plans everything," Shōko said quietly.
They opened their doors almost in unison. Each room was compact but comfortable — a bed, desk, small private bathroom, and a panoramic window overlooking the campus.
Izuku dropped his duffel on the bed and stood for a moment, letting the view sink in. The main building gleamed in the distance; the training grounds shimmered with heat where the morning drills had already begun.
He could feel Kaelros and Igris stirring faintly in the back of his awareness — not speaking, but present. Ready.
The knock at his door came soft but familiar. Momo stood there, arms folded, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Settled?" she asked.
"Trying to be."
Nerissa's voice floated from across the hall. "I give him twenty minutes before he starts planning workouts."
"Ten," Shōko corrected.
Izuku laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're probably both right."
Momo shook her head, smile widening. "Then we'll make sure you eat first."
She glanced down the hall toward the elevator. "They're holding a short welcome briefing downstairs. Shall we?"
"Yeah," he said. "Let's."
---
Common Room
By the time they returned to the ground floor, most of the first-years had gathered in the common area — a wide open space lined with couches, game tables, and a large screen displaying the U.A. emblem.
All Might stood near the front, booming voice already mid-sentence.
"Your time at U.A. will challenge you in ways you can't yet imagine! But remember—heroes are built through cooperation!"
Chase stood beside him, arms folded, gaze scanning the students. When All Might paused to breathe, Chase added, "And through learning to rest before you break."
That earned a few quiet laughs and more than a few nods.
"Classes begin tomorrow morning!" All Might declared. "Uniforms are ready in your closets. Get settled, get rested, and prepare for the most important journey of your lives!"
Applause filled the room — genuine, eager, uncertain. Chase waited until it quieted, then said, "Welcome to U.A., Class 1-A."
His voice carried a gravity that made the simple words feel like a vow.
Izuku looked around — at Momo's calm focus, Nerissa's grin, Shōko's quiet steadiness — and felt that same weight settle into his bones.
The dream was over.
The work had begun.
The first evening in Heights Alliance felt more like a strange sleepover than the start of a hero career.
Dinner had ended an hour ago. The dorm's common area buzzed with quiet energy — first-years sprawled on couches, some comparing quirks, others just grateful for working Wi-Fi. The air smelled faintly of takeout curry and new carpet.
Izuku sat near the center of the room with Momo, Nerissa, and Shōko. A few other classmates had drifted over, curiosity outweighing exhaustion.
Nerissa clapped once, grinning. "Alright, if we're stuck together for who knows how long, we might as well actually meet each other."
A murmur of agreement followed.
"I'll start!" she said, standing. "Nerissa Ravencroft — quirk's Radiant Field. I heal, blind, and occasionally make things explode if I'm not paying attention. Also, I make killer hot chocolate."
A few laughs broke out. She sat down, satisfied.
Momo went next, posture as perfect as her diction. "Yaoyorozu Momo. Quirk: Creation. I can produce almost anything with the right materials — provided I've studied it thoroughly. Please refrain from asking me to make food; that never ends well."
Shōko followed, her voice level, expression unreadable. "Todoroki Shōko. Ice and fire. I'm not particularly good at small talk."
"That's already more than most people say in a week," Nerissa teased. Shōko's faint smile almost counted as a laugh.
Then all eyes turned to Izuku.
He scratched the back of his neck. "Midoriya Izuku. My quirk's… complicated. Shadow control, plus an inherited power I'm still figuring out. I fight better than I explain."
Tokoyami stared intently then spoke in a low voice not to them but his shadow "a fellow walker of the night has arrived, revelry in the dark indeed."
"That's the understatement of the year," Nerissa muttered.
He laughed, shoulders relaxing. "Guess that's everyone?"
Across the room, another group of students chimed in with their own introductions — voices overlapping in that awkward, easy rhythm of new beginnings. Laughter started to replace the quiet tension that had hung over them since morning.
When it came to Tokoyami's turn, the dark-haired boy sat up straighter, his avian face grave.
"I am Tokoyami Fumikage," he said in a low, serious tone. "My quirk is Dark Shadow, the manifestation of the darkness within my soul."
There was a long pause.
Izuku blinked. "Oh! Uh, that's… actually really cool."
Tokoyami studied him for a moment before nodding solemnly. "You, Midoriya, wielder of shadow, our paths are aligned. The abyss has chosen its champions well."
Kaminari whispered to Kirishima, "Did he just call them abyss bros?"
Izuku, trying not to laugh, gave a nervous thumbs-up. "Right. Uh… glad to be comrades of the abyss, then?"
For the first time, Tokoyami's beak twitched upward in approval. "Indeed. May our darkness illuminate the world."
Mina threw her hands up. "Okay, that was so extra but also kind of amazing."
Even Nerissa giggled, covering her mouth. "I think you just made a friend, Izuku."
Izuku smiled faintly, feeling a surprising warmth in his chest. "Yeah… I think so too."
The introductions flowed smoothly after that — Jirō, Sero, Urarakai, Sato, and the rest. Each name added more life to the room. There were jokes, laughter, and a few awkward pauses, but overall it felt warm, like the first breath of something new.
Eventually, Mina leaned back and stretched with a yawn. "Okay, I like this group. We've got energy, a healer, a shadow king, and a guy who literally sparkles!!"she said with an over abundance of energy and enthusiasm.
For the first time, the dorm felt alive.
Izuku leaned back on the couch, eyes drifting to the wide window overlooking the city lights. U.A. shimmered beyond, the training fields faintly glowing under floodlights. Tomorrow would bring lessons, drills, and probably a few bruises — but tonight was calm.
Nerissa nudged him. "You realize you didn't actually tell anyone your second quirk's name."
He smiled faintly. "They'll figure it out eventually."
"Dramatic as always," Momo said, rolling her eyes with affection.
He opened his mouth to reply — and froze when a familiar, sharp voice cut across the
---
The introductions ended with the usual laughter and a few yawns. One by one, the other students peeled away toward their rooms, leaving only the low hum of the vending machines and the faint scent of tea.
Izuku lingered back alone to tidy up, still replaying the warmth of the evening in his mind. For once, everything felt simple—friends, calm, a future.
Then he heard it.
"Oi Izuku."
Not barked. Just spoken.
He turned. Bakugo stood near the doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets, expression unreadable but clearly uncomfortable.
"Got a minute?"
"…Yeah," Izuku said after a beat.
Bakugo motioned toward the back door. "Outside. I'm not doing this with an audience."
The night air met them like a cool exhale. The campus was quiet except for the hum of streetlights and the distant chirp of crickets. They walked past the fountain to the bench by the training field—far enough that no one could overhear.
Bakugo didn't sit. He stood with his back half-turned, shoulders tight.
"I was gonna say this during the move-in," he started, "but that crowd in there? Not happening."
Izuku said nothing, waiting.
Bakugo exhaled. "I owe you an apology. Not for today. For back then when we were kids."
The words landed heavy in the night air.
"When you left—after that whole mess when we were kids—they made it pretty damn clear I screwed up." His jaw tightened. "I didn't get it then. I thought they were just mad 'cause I got caught."
His eyes drifted to the distance. "But… sometimes I still remember what that week felt like."
---
Flashback — Age 9
The classroom was empty except for him and the teacher. Chalk dust floated in the air like mist.
Bakugo sat at his desk, arms crossed, glaring at the floor. He hated how quiet it was.
"Do you know why you're in trouble, Katsuki?" the teacher asked. Her voice was calm, too calm.
He muttered something about "dumb rules."
She sighed. "You told a classmate to jump off a roof."
He looked up then, defiant. "He wouldn't have done it! He's—"
"Scared? Quiet?" the teacher interrupted gently. "That doesn't make it less cruel."
Bakugo scowled, heat crawling up his neck. "He's weak. I was just—"
"Messing with him?"
He didn't answer.
The teacher set a folded paper crane on the desk between them. "Do you know what that is?"
He shrugged. "A dumb bird."
"It's a symbol of apology," she said simply. "When we break something, we try to fix it. Even if we can't make it whole again, not because we're supposed to or we are told to,we do it because it's the right thing to do."
He stared at it, uncomprehending.
"You'll understand one day," she said quietly. "And I hope it's soon enough that you can still do something about it."
He rolled his eyes and crumpled the crane when she turned away. But later that night, when his mom scolded him and he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he couldn't stop seeing it—the small, white paper bird crushed in his fist.
---
Present
Bakugo's voice brought Izuku back to the present.
"I threw that thing away. I thought it was stupid. But I still remember it. Every damn line she said." He let out a rough laugh running his hand through his hair roughly. "Guess part of it stuck."
Izuku listened quietly. The image of Bakugo at nine years old—angry, lost, pretending he didn't care—hit harder than any insult ever had.
"I didn't get it until years later," Bakugo said. " After you left everyone stopped treating me like I was the golden kid. I kept thinking about that crane. How I never even said sorry before you were gone."
He finally turned, meeting Izuku's eyes. "I'm not expecting anything from you. I just needed to say it. You didn't deserve what I did. None of it."
Izuku swallowed, voice soft. "You were a kid, Kacchan. We both were."
"Doesn't make it right," he muttered.
"No," Izuku agreed. "But it means you can make it right now."
Bakugo looked at him for a long moment, searching for a hint of sarcasm or pity and finding none. He sighed. "You really haven't changed."
Izuku smiled faintly. "Neither have you. You just got louder and smarter."
A short bark of laughter escaped Bakugo; he looked back with a sharp grin. "Don't push it."
They stood there a while longer, the silence between them no longer heavy—just quiet. Real.
Finally Bakugo said, "Tomorrow, we're probably doing test. Don't hold back."
Izuku nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Good," Bakugo said, turning back toward the dorms. "I'm still not letting you get ahead, I'll crush you and claim number one for myself."
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
Izuku stayed where he was, staring out at the faint lights of the training field. The night breeze tugged at his hair.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could almost see it, an image of him and Bakugo in that creak bed with Bakugo accepting his help this time around. It brought a small nostalgic smile to his face so he turned and went back towards the dorms with a smile on his face and a ever so slightly lighter feeling in his chest.