Chapter 3: Kingmaker
Izuku was stretching when Gran Torino blindsided him, sending him sprawling on the floor. In the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Nighteye nodding in approval. He struggled to his feet, coughing.
"W-why did you do that!? I didn't think we were starting for like, five minutes?" Izuku said. The older man, unbeknownst to Izuku, hooked his ankle with his cane and sent Izuku back to the floor.
"You made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that we can't do anything to stop." Nighteye said. His words burned Izuku's heart; they hurt worse than getting knocked flat on his ass.
"The world needs All Might, and soon. You've decided to make the world wait until you're ready, so I hope you're ready to go through hell." He continued. Gran Torino nodded.
"You're too young to even attempt to weight train you, let alone let you practice One for All." Gran Torino said. "I respect your decision to keep the quirk, unlike some people." The old man's eyes flicked to Nighteye. Guilt spread into Izuku's heart for a moment before his brain crushed it. Nighteye hated him even though this was their first official meeting.
"But that doesn't mean I can go easy on you. Starting today, we're going to turn you into the perfect vessel for One for All. And that includes preparing you for anything and everything, such as," As Gran Torino continued, Nighteye zipped out from behind the older man and rushed at Izuku. Nighteye reached him in a second and kicked full force at his left cheek. The only thing stopping Izuku from being decapitated was an inch of space between his face and Nighteye's heel.
The man straightened back up, pushing his glasses up his nose. He looked unimpressed.
"You're scrawny, even for your age, and your entire left side is completely unguarded," Nighteye said. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing at his left flank.
"That's not fair; I wouldn't have that problem if I had two arms!" Izuku said, feeling defensive of his obvious disadvantage. Nighteye scoffed.
"But you don't, do you? That's why we're going to train on how to defend yourself and how to avoid getting hit. We'll do this every single day until you're able to either dodge my kick at full force or begin training his quirk." Nighteye said, his voice rigid. His quirk, Izuku thought. Not Izuku's, but All Might's. It hurt to be told that straight to his face, but he agreed deep down. Before he could dwell on it, Izuku glanced at Gran Torino, suddenly curious.
"What about him? Do I have to dodge a kick from him?" Izuku asked. Gran Torino laughed.
"If you could dodge me before you even hit puberty, I'd give you a million bucks." Gran Torino said, still laughing. "No, Nighteye's just being an arse. Now get runnin', brat." He continued.
Izuku obliged, not wanting to embarrass himself more. Running on the indoor track, Izuku found himself trying his best to not tip over.
While he was slowly adjusting to moving around and doing everyday tasks with one arm, running was a whole other issue. After he began, he quickly realized that this was going to be a lot harder than he expected.
Arms play a critical role in any movement. Despite not being very heavy, they can shift your center of balance easily. Without that vital extremity, Izuku had a center of gravity that was a little too far right. It made turning right corners easier, but everything else is harder.
All of a sudden, something nailed Izuku in the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward. Stopping mid-jog, he turned back to find Nighteye next to a pile of rubber dodge balls. Izuku reached up to rub where he got hit but touched nothing but air. Confused, Izuku tried again but soon realized his mistake. He didn't have a left hand.
God, it was going to take a lot to get over this.
"Who said to stop!? Keep running brat!" Gran Torino called out. Izuku did so, but not without scowling.
"Why'd you throw that at me!?" Izuku asked. "Give me some time to get used to my new balance!"
"No can do, brat! If you don't want to get hit, pay attention!" Gran Torino continued, motioning for Nighteye to throw another ball at Izuku. Now running and paying attention, he was able to determine the trajectory of the ball and move out of the way with a little difficulty.
"You missed- oof!" Ricocheting into Izuku's back off the wall, the ball knocked him to the floor. He was tired of his mentors tripping him. Within a few seconds of not getting up, another ball hit him.
"No breaks!"
[x]
"So you're exercising? That's good. That's very good." Dr. Fujimaki said. Izuku nodded, uncomfortable in his chair. It wasn't a bad chair- it was soft and had a nice leather texture. No, Izuku's body was just very sore; bruises littered his body after hours of "training" with Gran Torino and Nighteye.
The old man had offered to mentor Izuku if he chose to keep One for All, but he hadn't expected the man to be a slave driver. Despite the physical pain and stress of their first session, however, Izuku was thrilled with it. He was equal amounts tired and fulfilled, something he hadn't felt since he had completed his last hero journal.
"Did you know that working hard naturally gives you dopamine over time? When you exhaust yourself with exercise, you're manually making yourself happier." Dr. Fukimaki continued. His therapist was nice, Izuku thought. He was easy to get along with and wasn't judgemental in the slightest. Izuku was lucky to have him.
"Yeah, I guess. It's hard, though." Izuku mumbled out. Dr. Fujimaki smiled, nodding.
"Yes, yes it is. For many people, it's a vital part of their recovery, and recovery is difficult." Dr. Fujimaki said. "What brought you to exercise? You don't have to answer, of course, but I'm curious." He continued.
"Oh, uhm I kind've, uhm…" Izuku trailed off, unsure if he wanted to tell the truth or not. His therapist waited for him to answer, perfectly silent and relaxed. Izuku spent a good thirty seconds thinking it over before remembering his promise. He can't be ashamed of trying to avenge someone, even if he was the one who killed them in the first place.
"I-I know I'm hurt, I know I'm crippled, but I decided I want to try to become a hero again…" Izuku said, eyes downcast. Dr. Fujimaki didn't say anything for a second, and Izuku thought he had upset the man somehow before he smiled.
"That's a lovely goal to have. I know we haven't discussed the odd circumstances with your quirk yet, but rest assured we will get there eventually. Quirks and heroism—they go hand in hand, so we can discuss them together at a later date. The one piece of advice I'll give you in the meantime, however, is that heroism isn't just about helping people." Dr. Fujimaki said. Izuku's eyes narrowed, confused.
"What? Of course it is. Heroism is giving up s-something of yourself for others." Izuku replied. The man shook his head.
"No, Midoriya, no. In today's society, heroism is just as much about self-preservation as it is self-sacrifice. People need heroes, and if all the heroes sacrificed themselves to save only a handful of people, then who would protect the masses?" Dr. Fujimaki asked. Izuku was stumped.
"Are you trying to tell me to let people get hurt- m-maybe even die, just to keep myself safe?" Izuku asked, suddenly defensive. Dr. Fujimaki's smile didn't falter as he raised his hands in surrender.
"Absolutely not, Midoriya. I wouldn't dream of telling a hero to save themselves before someone else. What I am saying is that heroes who run themselves ragged with no sense of self-preservation expire quickly. You need to take care of yourself; you need to have a life outside of heroism." Dr. Fujimaki finished. Izuku hesitantly nodded, unsure.
He wasn't sure what to make of the Doctor's statement. He had grown up believing that helping someone else before yourself was always a good thing, no matter what. Even his favorite hero… All Might… had reinforced this idea by dying for Izuku. All Might hadn't cared about his health, only getting the job done and protecting him.
He understood the sentiment, though. If a hero wasn't at 100%, they wouldn't be able to work at full efficiency. If he can't train at 100%, he won't get his effort's worth. Taking care of himself…
"I'll try to not overwork myself, I guess." Izuku said. Dr. Fujimaki nodded.
"Stay safe, MIdoriya. Your future is bright."
[x]
Across the country, Enji was grappling with something far more difficult than the average villain. Alone in his highrise office looking down on the city below, Enji was struggling with his ego, an unsolved case, and his son.
He drummed his fingers on his desk. He had left his staff with a single order: Do Not Disturb. Enji needed time to digest this.
"This" was the National Hero Rankings, the first one to be published since the death of the previous Number One Hero, his rival, All Might. Enji saw some interesting changes in the rankings this month.
An up-and-coming hero, Hawks, had breached the top 100, despite not yet being 18. Best Jeanist had risen from 15th to 11th. The most interesting of all, however, was the previous Number Two Hero, second fiddle only to All Might himself, had become the new Top Hero. All Might had been added to the top of the list of The Valkyries, the best of the heroes who died in service.
Enji Todoroki groaned as he rubbed his eyes, praying the ibuprofen would kill his headache soon. He was the number one hero, and he didn't know how to feel.
Endeavor had worked single-mindedly towards this goal since he was in U.A. He had worked harder than anyone, but had always fallen short of the big man himself. Enji hadn't resigned himself to failure- he had married into a powerful ice-quirk family in order to try and create a child strong enough to best All Might, but he had never truly expected to be number one.
The gap between himself and All Might was as wide as the gap between himself now and his middle school self. Shoto had a chance to get there one day, but that didn't matter now.
It didn't matter now.
That was what Endeavor was hung upon. What was he supposed to do with Shoto, his ultimate tool to take down All Might, with no All Might? This dilemma was causing his headache. Or maybe it was the guilt—the retrospective realization that he had been pushing his sons so hard for a dream they'll never fulfill was drowning him.
Touya had shown so much promise… but Enji put ideas into his head. Ideas that drove him, a child, into killing himself. How could Enji be the number one hero after that? All Might was the ultimate hero. Ultimate heroes didn't inspire children into suicide.
A buzzer went off on his desk, indicating that somebody wanted to speak to him. Enji's frown deepened. He held down the button that turned on his mic.
"What is it about Do Not Disturb that you do not understand? This better be worth my time." Endeavor said. On the little device on his desk, a crackly voice could be heard.
"I'm sorry sir, but I thought you would like to know we have gotten some leads on the explosion in Musutafu via the hero network." Burnin said. Endeavor shifted in his seat, now interested.
Burnin was one of his newer sidekicks, a freshly graduated girl who could generate fire from her hair and throw it. She was on office duty until further notice, given her lack of experience, and had been relaying most of what the Intelligence Office came across directly to Endeavor.
"Go on." Endeavor said.
"Sir Nighteye claims to have seen the explosion in a future vision. We were never able to recover bomb pieces because there was no bomb, sir. This is confidential, even within the Hero Network, but the cause of the explosion was a quirk." Burnin explained.
"A villain, then? That explosion was serious business. Have they been apprehended?" Endeavor said, almost disappointed. He had been following the case rather closely and had been hoping to be the one to crack it.
"No sir, you don't seem to understand. It wasn't a villain. It was a civilian's quirk that went haywire. We only have access to this information because of the unique line the number one hero has in the Hero's Network, but the civilian whose quirk went crazy was a little boy, 9 years old, named Izuku Midoriya. We have nothing else, sir." Burnin said over the speaker. Endeavor was surprised; the explosion that had destroyed most of the Musutafu forest was monstrous. Enji hadn't seen such high horsepower attacks in years. If it was just a little kid, he might become a serious powerhouse in the hero industry in a decade or so.
"Is the brat alive?" Endeavor asked.
"Yes, though he was apparently injured pretty bad." Burnin replied. Hmm, Enji thought.
"Do some digging on this Midoriya kid. I'm interested. Now, unless there's something else, please refrain from bothering me again. I'm going home." Endeavor said, already stripping off his hero gloves.
"Yes sir!" Burnin replied. Enji knew the line went dead and she was gone when he heard a click from the speaker.
"God… I need a drink." He muttered.
[x]
Enji was shrugging off his overcoat in the mudroom of his home when he saw Shoto walk by. A twinge of something Enji was unfamiliar with flashed through him.
Bright red scar tissue covered Shoto's left eye; it was a permanent reminder of his own failures as a father and husband. Oh, Enji realized. That twinge he felt was shame.
Enji had strived to avoid thinking about his past for years, instead choosing to always look forward. He'd never take the time to look around him and god forbid he start thinking about what has already happened. But now that he was the Number One Hero, he needed to be more conscious of his mistakes.
The biggest one of all, of course, was the one he had been making for over four years now.
"Shoto." Enjji called over to his son. Shoto, who had attempted to walk to his room without acknowledging his father paused. Enji didn't have to see the boy's face to know he was glowering.
"What do you want?" Shoto asked, not turning back to look at him. Enji didn't know what to say, so he didn't. He let the silence hang for five seconds, ten, thirty, and then a full minute. All the while, Shoto was still turned away from him. Finally, the boy relented and faced his father.
"What do you want!?" Shoto called out, irritated that Enji hadn't said anything.
"Training is canceled for the rest of the week." Enji finally let out. Shoto paused, his angry demeanor lessening but not disappearing.
"Why?" He asked. What a loaded question, Enji thought. He turned away from his son.
"I don't know."
It was only later that Enji realized that this Midoriya Izuku kid was the same age as his son.
[x]
"So, Midoriya. Have you decided what you want to do about a prosthetic?" Dr. Fujimaki asked. Izuku shrugged.
"I don't know. I've only just barely gotten all of my balance back from before. I don't want to throw it off again. Plus, I don't have any forearm muscles to get those expensive finger prosthetics, so it wouldn't serve any real function besides aesthetic." Izuku replied. It had been a few weeks since his last session with Dr. Fujimaki.
He had spent a lot of time considering if he wanted a prosthetic. His arm was cleanly cut off right above the tricep, right at the top of where his bicep used to be. Sure, he could get an attachment with an A.I. hand so he could do basic two-handed tasks again, but he would never be able to punch somebody with One for All with it.
Sure, he could turn the prosthetic into some sort of support item for hero work, but he wasn't sure that was something he needed. He still wasn't completely comfortable not having an arm, but the loss of it was symbolic to him. If he was able to become a hero without even having an arm… maybe somebody could become a hero without a quirk. If he wore a fake arm, that aesthetic, that inspiration to disabled kids and adults might be washed away.
He didn't have to say this, because Fujimaki understood him. Perhaps he understood Izuku better than he did himself.
"I understand you want to be seen as a disabled hero. It's truly is an inspirational idea. But I'm not talking about some fancy piece of tech to help you with possible hero work." Dr. Fujimaki said. Izuku looked at him confused.
"Then what would I need it for? I can walk, run, and use most two-handed devices with no sweat." Izuku said. The Doctor gave him a warm, understanding look.
"It wouldn't be for doing tasks better. You're almost independent as you were before the accident. This fake arm- it would just be there to ease your conscious." The man said. Izuku was even more confused.
"Ease my conscious?" Izuku asked. Fujimaki nodded.
"Yes. If you would please, can you tell me what you feel when you look at your stump? You don't need to, but I would appreciate it." He asked. Izuku furrowed his brows at the request but obliged.
He looked at his stump, and let his mind wander. The first thing that came up was embarrassment. A sort of awkward shame crept up in him as he gazed at his greatest weakness. His regret began to overflow as he continued to gaze at himself. Soon, other emotions popped up.
A feeling of inadequacy, as if he was less of a person because of his disability, was hovering there. Its full strength had been dismissed by Ms. Utsushimi's speech to him a few weeks ago, but a part of that still lingered.
There was a certain sense of grief that Izuku hadn't realized he felt until he let it flow through him. He really missed being whole. He hopes one day he'll stop feeling bad about it, but he knows he'll never forget it entirely. His body won't allow him to. The phantom pains were constant, and his body often forgot his arm wasn't there anymore and told him to use it. Eventually, he'd be able to overcome his innate reactions to use his non-existent arm, but he'd never be rid of all the phantom sensations.
Finally, there was a quiet anger below it all. He hated the way people looked at him in public. Izuku hated that he lost his arm because he was throwing a tantrum. It angered him it was gone in the first place. At this revelation, he ripped his gaze from his amputation. Sweat trickled down his face and back; he was breathing raggedly and unevenly. He didn't know how long he had been looking at his arm, but it had been a long time.
Eventually, he was able to collect himself enough to give a proper answer to the question.
"I hate the way that it's not there anymore and how it's my fault. I hate the way people look at me when I'm outside with my mom. I don't want to look at it anymore. Ever again, actually." Izuku said. Fujimaki nodded in understanding, but still looked pleased.
"Those feelings will fade with time, my boy. But that's why I think a prosthetic is a good idea. You don't have to wear it at home or while you work, but maybe it would be a good idea to wear it, say, out on the train, or in a grocery store. You'll get less attention that way. I know how cruel strangers are." He said.
"O-oh. Yeah, that makes sense. But wouldn't wearing it just put off the main issue? If I'm just pretending to have an arm, how am I supposed to get over not having one?" Izuku asked.
"That's a good question, Midoriya. The answer is pretty simple, however. Most amputees hate the sight of whatever they're missing. They get agitated over it fairly easily and their stress builds up. The best way to avoid that buildup of stress is to just ignore it. With you, I just want you to be comfortable when you're out in public." Dr. Fujimaki replied.
It made sense, Izuku thought. Izuku's goal was to master his negative feelings, but for other people, it might as easy as forgetting the problem entirely.
"S-so this would be to, like, give my brain a rest?" Izuku asked.
"In essence, yes." He answered. Izuku stayed still for a few moments, pondering the possibilities before nodding.
"I'll ask Ms. Utsushimi about it next week. I'll need a really light one so it won't mess up my balance though.
"Make sure it looks life-like. That's the key." Fujimaki said.
"Yes, sir."
They spent a few minutes making comfortable small talk. Izuku didn't get to talk to many people much anymore, not that he wanted to, but it was nice. Eventually, the topic of school came up.
School was something Izuku hadn't been putting much thought into. He wasn't sure what his future looked like in regards to his education, besides maybe, hopefully being accepted into U.A., the greatest Pro Hero academy.
After the incident, Izuku enrolled in remote learning. He had needed time to get away and children were nosey demons, so Inko had pulled him out of conventional classes. It was, in Izuku's opinion, the single best thing she had done to help him during his recovery.
When he was able to stop moping around the house, he was able to blaze through his work like never before. School had always held him back; biased teachers and slower students either intentionally giving him less attention because of his quirklessness or holding him back from working at his pace, which was typically faster than the average kid.
Now that he had dedicated himself to becoming a hero, his work ethic had been restored and he was able to get more school work done than ever. He didn't want to go back if he didn't have to.
"Are you sure? I understand you were bullied, but you need to interact with people your age." Dr. Fujimaki told Izuku when he revealed he didn't want to go back to school.
"They hated me, especially Kacchan." Izuku said, not happy about it. Fujimaki leaned forward.
"This being Katsuki Bakugou, correct? Why do you think he hates you?" He asked. Izuku shook his head.
"I don't really want to talk about that." Izuku said. Fujimaki nodded, returning the conversation back to school.
"You can't just hang out with me and your mom, Izuku. How are you going to survive a hero academy if you haven't socialized in years? Their courses are hard enough by themselves, I don't want you to struggle socially too." Fujimaki said. "Eventually, you're going to have to make friends. When I see that you're ready to do it again, I'll recommend it to your mother." Fujimaki continued.
"Wait, wait." Izuku said, raising a hand. "If I socialize outside of school, then can I stay in remote learning?" He asked, hopeful.
"... I'll make a deal with you, Izuku." Dr. Fujimaki said. Izuku leaned in to hear the man better.
"After I deem you healthy enough to go back to proper schooling, I want you to try your best to make some friends or at least talk to some strangers. If you can manage a stable relationship with someone your age, I'll let you continue your remote learning." He said. Izuku immediately nodded; he wasn't sure he wanted to do it, but he knew he wanted to avoid going back to Kacchan. They shook on it.
[x]
That night, after Izuku's regular nightmares, he dreamt of eight stars.
Chapter 4: The Princess and Her Tower
Slide under the pipe. Kick-off of the diagonal slab. Duck and roll to avoid the stray ball. Grab pole to change trajectory. Use the rope to climb over the wall. Run like hell. Repeat until exhausted.
That was the training regime Izuku had been going through for the past month. He had long since moved past trying to avoid dodgeballs while running on an indoor track; now he had to navigate an entire obstacle course while avoiding smaller, faster projectiles.
The warehouse he trained in was substantially different from his first day there. When Izuku was still running on the track, the building was a lifeless, undecorated gray. It had stayed unnotable until the obstacle course arrived. Where the runner's track used to be, there were high walls, ropes, and low ceilings scattered about in a circular formation. In the center sat Gran Torino, a baseball launching machine, and a lawn chair. From it, he used the baseball machine to torment Izuku while he trained.
Today, like many days, it was just Izuku and Gran Torino. Nighteye rarely showed up to personally train him, and Izuku was grateful for it. The man never inspired Izuku to do better, only put him down and stressed him out. It wasn't that Nighteye was mean to Izuku, or that he wasn't full of helpful tips and tricks. No, Nighteye was an incredible educator and mentor.
Nighteye just didn't want Izuku to have One for All.
At least, that was what Gran Torino told him. Izuku thought it made sense, so he went with it. Nighteye blatantly called him selfish for keeping the quirk, and maybe he was. As long as Izuku held the quirk, nobody more physically fit could use the power to fight back against the giant wave of crime sweeping the nation.
Nighteye saw him for the child he was, but not the hero he would be. When the time came, Izuku wanted to show Nighteye he was wrong about him.
But that time was not now, Izuku realized, as his fingers slipped while pulling himself over a wall, sending him plummeting back to the floor. Within a few seconds of not moving, Izuku was pelted with a baseball. Izuku groaned as he heard a whistle sound off from the center of the course.
Needing some water, Izuku gathered the balls that were lying all over the track as fast as he could. As soon as he deposited them all back into the launching machine, he grabbed a bottle of water, took a large swig, and sat down. Next to him, Gran Torino put down a book he'd been reading.
"So, have you had any more strange dreams?" He asked. Izuku shook his head as he wiped his cheeks clean of water.
"No sir. That weird dream about the eight stars was the only one so far." izuku replied. Gran Torino grunted.
"Keep updating your dream journal then, brat. Nana and Toshinori never told me anything about dreams, but maybe you're special." He said. Izuku shrugged.
"Maybe it was a one-time thing." Izuku offered. Gran Torino shook his head.
"Nah, probably not." Gran Torino didn't elaborate further.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Izuku was doing his best to regain his energy after his workout and the old man was pondering something Izuku couldn't guess. Eventually, Gran Torino broke the silence.
"How many times do you think you got hit?" he asked. Izuku shrugged, unsure. He pulled off his tank top to look at any bruises forming on his torso. Poked and prodding them to check their age, he counted how many were from this session or not. Eventually, he came to a consensus.
"About 16, maybe 17." Izuku said. Gran Torino snorted and whacked the back of Izuku's head with a cane.
"It was 25, brat. I kept count." He said.
"Jeez, does it matter all that much?" Izuku whined, rubbing the back of his head. 25 or 16, both were a lot of hits. It was the wrong thing to say though because it got him another wack.
"Are you dense? No wait, of course you are. There's a huge difference between 16 and 25 punches straight to your thick skull, kid. Nine hits are enough to knock out a fully grown man alone, and that's just the difference between how many times you thought you got hit and how much you really did." Gran Torino said.
"I'm sorry. I'm trying to get better." Izuku said, disappointed. He had been satisfied with his performance today. Izuku had done better today than he had ever before, in his opinion. But even that wasn't good enough, he guessed.
"You need to. But, if it makes you feel better, how many balls do you think got launched?" Gran Torino asked. Izuku pondered this for a moment before remembering he had just picked up the pile of missed throws.
"Overall, I'd say maybe 50." Izuku guessed. Gran Torino smiled.
"73. You dodged about two-thirds of my shots, though I might have missed one or two." He said. Izuku gave a weak smile at this. It was a nice statistic, but he couldn't forget that he had still been hit so many times. Nighteye had been right about him in at least one way, his left side was undefended. He needed to get better at dodging; he wasn't even close to being agile enough to dodge a kick from Nighteye.
Dropping his fake smile, Izuku looked out across the obstacle course. In reality, it was a very simple course. The reason it was tough was that it looped; it started and ended in the same place. Izuku was forced to do several laps before he either got hit too many times or got too tired to keep running.
The course helped him with a lot of things, namely, his cardio, agility, and awareness. Be it before the incident or after he lost his arm, if you put the old Izuku in this course, he wouldn't last two minutes. He was making good progress, but Izuku wanted more. He wanted to be able to dodge a kick from Nighteye.
"I want to try something else."
[x]
Izuku was smiling as he went into Tokage Groceries. Fujimaki had been right; Izuku felt a lot better out in public with his prosthetic. Before, when Izuku went grocery shopping, he rushed through his list so he wouldn't get stared at. He hated the way people looked at him- as if he was helpless. That wasn't a problem anymore.
His fake arm was a gift from the heavens. The arm looked real and, as Izuku wanted, was light as a feather. He could take it on and off with ease, his center of gravity being none the wiser.
Even though the arm gave him a certain peace of mind, he made sure to only wear it out in public. One day, when he was a hero, he wanted to shed his prosthetic, and show the world his real body, his true worth, with or without two arms. Ms. Utsushimi had given him that confidence, and he wanted to repay her faith with concrete action.
Still, he liked having the arm. It made him feel symmetrical, and symmetrical felt good. Being in a grocery store by himself felt nice, too. His mother hadn't let him wander around without her for months in fear of him hurting himself again. But today she had decided to let him fly the nest for a few hours while she cleaned. So, she sent him off to the grocery store with a few extra dollars for himself.
It was a nice gesture, he thought. It meant she trusted him again.
He had almost retrieving everything on his list. Ham, some spices, and tomatoes were easy to reach, and Izuku thought he'd be home free until he reached the soap aisle. The brand of soap that his mom liked was on the highest shelf, and Izuku couldn't reach it.
That normally wouldn't be a problem in a large chain supermarket, they typically had little footstools scattered about to help. But this place was locally owned, meaning he'd have to ask somebody to help him. He wasn't sure he was up for that today.
He was about to settle for a different brand of soap when a little girl, his age, popped her head out from behind another aisle. Izuku glanced at her but thought nothing of it until she started waving at him.
"Hey, do you need any help?" She asked. Izuku looked at her and then looked behind him, making sure she wasn't talking to someone else.
"Me? Uh, I-I guess." Izuku replied. The girl smiled and bounced her way over to him. As she got closer, Izuku got a closer look at her. To his surprise, he realized they looked remarkably similar. Green tousled hair with big, round eyes and fair skin. They could almost be siblings if it wasn't for two things. Her hair and eyes were more of a swamp green, whereas Izuku's were more forest green in the light.
And her teeth were as sharp as knives.
Izuku immediately assumed she must have a jaw-related quirk. Perhaps it was just a minor mutation, or she could grow her teeth in size and shape, Izuku couldn't tell. He couldn't help but be reminded of a lizard he had seen in the zoo once, looking at her teeth and color scheme. She stopped next to him, and put a finger up to her lips as if to silence him.
"Shh. Don't tell anybody." The girl whispered.
"Tell what-" Izuku tried to ask, but was cut off when the green girl's arm popped off of her shoulder. Izuku watched, fascinated, as the girl's severed arm floated up to the top shelf and fumbled around for the right dish soap.
"Uhm, the Sunshine one." Izuku told her, realizing she didn't know which brand to grab. Within seconds, he was holding his dish soap and the girl had popped her arm back onto her shoulder. Izuku didn't know what to say as he bagged the cleaning product. He didn't need to, though, as the girl got right up in his face with a big smile.
"Pretty cool, right?" She asked. Izuku nodded. It really was cool.
"W-what about the quirk l-laws?" Izuku asked, concerned for the girl. Public use of quirks was outlawed despite their wide prominence. Everybody thought it sucked, but it remained an integral part of their society. The girl shrugged her shoulders.
"My daddy owns this place, so I can't get in trouble. If you tell him though, I might get grounded. So don't do that, please." The girl whispered. Izuku nodded.
"Oh, you're Mr. Tokage's kid?" He asked, despite his discomfort at her proximity. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to handle this conversation, but he was intrigued. The girl nodded in affirmative.
"Yep. I'm Setsuna, by the way. What's your name?" Setsuna asked.
"I-Izuku MIdoriya. Yours? Oh crap, wait-" Izuku fumbled as Setsuna laughed at him. His face was bright red as she continued to giggle. Soon though, she realized he looked uncomfortable and apologized.
"I-It's n-no problem, Tokage. A-anyways, what is your quirk? It l-looked cool." Izuku asked, trying to redirect the conversation. Setsuna beamed at him.
"Oh, I can split my body up and move the pieces all around like drones!" Setsuna looked around them to make sure nobody was in their aisle. "Watch this…"
Izuku almost screamed when her head fell off her shoulders and started circling him. Giggles came from all directions as he fought back his surprise. After her head got reattached and Izuku calmed back down, he couldn't help but look at her in small amazement.
"Y-your quirk is so cool… Are you going to be-" Setsuna cut him off.
"A hero? I haven't decided yet. People keep telling me that I could be a really good one, but I'm not sure it's what I want." She said. Izuku nodded, a little disappointed.
"Yeah, you could be an amazing one with a quirk like that. If you wanted to, you could t-totally do it." Izuku said in earnest. She really could, he thought. He couldn't think of any major heroes that were currently active that had such a unique and diverse ability. One day, when her quirk had fully matured and she mastered it, she could be a force of nature in the crime-fighting scene.
She could scout disaster zones with ease by making her eyes fly ahead of her. Or, she could help people out of dangerous areas by letting them fly on her limbs. Her ability was wonderful.
It was only after all these thoughts went through his head that he realized he had said them all aloud. She was staring at him with a guarded appreciation, like she was flattered, but thought he was weird. Which, Izuku thought, he guessed he was.
"I'm so sorry, s-sometimes all of my thoughts just spill out and-" Izuku tried to explain, but the girl shook her head.
"Nah, it's fine I guess. What was your quirk, by the way?" She asked. Izuku, still feeling apologetic, didn't know how to respond. He'd been asked this a thousand times as a child, many times just to make fun of him for his quirklessness. After a while, he had learned to just ignore them, but now he didn't know how to answer.
"Oh, well, uhm… I have super strength." He answered. It was a bit of an understatement, but it was technically true. Setsuna raised an eyebrow at him.
"You're kinda skinny though." She said. Izuku choked out a laugh, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. He wasn't offended.
"Y-yeah, you got me there." A weird silence hung between them for a few seconds before Setsuna backed off of him, giving Izuku room to breathe.
"Welp, have a nice day. If you need anything else from the top shelf, ring the bell next to the checkout. Our apartment is on the second floor, and the bell is how my dad lets me know to come down for a shift. Later, Midoriya." Setsuna said, waving at Midoriya as she left. Izuku tried to wave back, but she was gone before he could.
Izuku didn't leave the aisle for a few minutes as he did his best to catch his breath. That was the first time he'd talked to someone his age in months. Maybe even before the incident. It was easier, he decided, to talk to people his age now that he wasn't quirkless.
Everyone at elementary school had defaulted to bullying him for it, but maybe it would be easier to make friends now that people didn't think he was broken. Without realizing it, Izuku was clutching his fake arm as he thought this.
He needed to get away from people before he got overwhelmed. He got the last items on his list before checking out. Mr. Tokage was the cashier today. Sporting a thin smile and hints of gray in his temples, Mr. Tokage looked much older than he actually was.
"Will that be all, young man?" Mr. Tokage asked. Izuku nodded, not saying a word.
"Alright," He continued. The man glanced down at Izuku's left hand, a knowing look in his lidded eyes. From under the counter, he pulled out a small chocolate bar and tossed it to Izuku.
"To your recovery." Mr. Tokage said. Izuku's eyes widened. He tried to give it back, but the man refused.
"I've seen you come in here with your mom a bunch of times, kid. You're looking a lot better. You earned it." He said. Izuku sighed and accepted the treat.
"T-thanks."
[x]
Izuku was still thinking about the Tokages while training with Gran Torino the next day. They had been so nice to him, more than he deserved. It was hard to forget.
"Hey, did you hear anything I just said, brat?" Gran Torino asked, annoyed. Izuku shook his head to clear any dangling thoughts of the Tokages.
"Sorry, sir. What was it again?" Izuku asked. Gran Torino scoffed.
"You were the one who asked me in the first place, kid. I said that we're going to work on dodging actual attacks today." He said. Izuku blushed, remembering he asked him to do this yesterday. Hopefully, his grogginess would clear up by the end of the day.
"Alright, let's get started. What's first?" Izuku asked.
"First, we-" Izuku never got to hear what the man was about to say because, across the warehouse, a door slammed open. In the entrance stood Nighteye, and he looked serious.
"Nighteye? I didn't think you were coming today." Gran Torino called out. Izuku nodded, Nighteye had a schedule that he kept religiously, and they were not on that schedule today. Nighteye dropped a briefcase he carried next to the door and walked in, hands in pockets. He didn't even glance at Izuku.
"It's been six months, to the day, since All Might left us. My schedule cleared up today, and I want Midoriya." Nighteye said; his voice firm.
"Fine by me. We were going to start real combat training today-" Gran Torino was cut off when Nighteye shook his head.
"No. I'm taking him out of here. He needs to see what it's like before we actually start training him. He needs to know." Nighteye said. Izuku tilted his head.
"See what? Where are we going?" Izuku asked. Nighteye turned to him for the first time, and Izuku got a good look at him.
Nighteye's eyes were covered in shades that looked remarkably similar to his normal glasses. He couldn't make out a specific expression because of them, but he noticed that Nighteye's eyes were red and puffy.
"I'm going to take you out on a patrol. You'll be perfectly safe with me." Nighteye said. Gran Torino spoke up.
"That's a bad idea. You know how rough crime has been. We don't need to expose him to that crap." He said. Nighteye didn't appear to care.
"What about combat training?" Izuku asked. Nighteye shrugged.
"Later. Come on now, I don't have all day." Nighteye said. Izuku looked at Gran Torino, who was shaking his head at him. He wasn't sure what Nighteye wanted, but whatever it was, it was important.
"Alright." He agreed. Gran Torino sighed while Nighteye nodded in approval.
"Let's go." Nighteye said.
[x]
Nighteye didn't play the radio as he drove; he found it distracting. So many songs with different tempos and meanings, if he wasn't careful, he might crash while he got too invested in a song. Or worse, he might miss a crime that he could've stopped otherwise.
He guessed he and the brat agreed on that, at the very least. Izuku didn't like to listen to music in the car either. As a city kid, he seemed content to just enjoy the novelty of a car.
"So," The kid asked, "Why are we doing this?"
"A couple of reasons." He replied. When Izuku didn't ask what, Nighteye continued.
"Do you know how bad crime has gotten since All Might's death?" He asked. Izuku shifted in his seat.
"I-It's gotten worse. Without the Symbol of Peace, I know violent crime has gone up." Izuku said. Nighteye nodded.
"An understatement. It's quintupled. Even though there are more heroes than ever, we're struggling just as much as we were in the dark times before All Might." Nighteye said. Izuku didn't say anything.
"We need a special hero to step up, and soon. Endeavor is incredible, but he isn't what we need. We need the true Ninth." Nighteye continued, glancing at Izuku as he said this.
The boy wasn't worthy of One for All, and even if he was, Japan needed someone who could step up to the plate today, not ten years from now. He had nothing against the kid, but he didn't have the right mindset or the age.
Off in the distance, Nighteye saw a minor villain battle taking place. He wasn't concerned; the fight was being controlled by several heroes careful to keep the fighting contained. Nighteye had driven here knowing that; he had checked the Hero Network before picking up Izuku.
The kid said nothing as Nighteye parked a few blocks away from the villain fight. The fight had split, with some of the villains fighting in the streets whereas the others were fighting outside a grocery store. After watching the heroes' battle in silence for a few minutes, Izuku finally spoke up. His voice was quiet and cold, something Nighteye hadn't heard from the boy since they had first met.
"Is this why you brought me here? To push me into giving up One for All?" Izuku asked. Nighteye nodded.
"I need you to understand. It's been six months, Izuku, and crime is already this bad. What will happen in a year? What about five? Who will step up? Japan needs somebody to make them smile again, someone who can beat back villains without any issue. We need a real hero." Nighteye replied. Izuku didn't say anything, his eyebrows furrowed.
"I've found a young man, a fresh U.A. graduate, who I can trust to give the quirk to. Thunderstrike. You may have heard of him." He continued.
Thunderstrike was a man with a heart of gold and a useful quirk to boot. Depending on what material he touched, he could create sonic blasts at different intensities. When just touching the air, he could generate blasts strong enough to feel like a punch to the gut. While touching steel, he could create a force strong enough to uproot a tree and blow over cars.
Nighteye had scouted the man for his agency almost immediately after founding it, and the man had just recently officially signed onto his team permanently. He wasn't perfect, but he was the ideal candidate. His record was littered with minor infractions of U.A. policy, but those had all been over minor things. Fights, pranks, and other such things that Nighteye could care less about.
Off in the distance, the fight on the roof of the supermarket was intensifying. Izuku continued his silence, igniting Nighteye's nerves.
"What gives you the right to hold his quirk hostage? What makes you want to keep his quirk all to yourself so bad!? Please, Midoriya. Why?" Nighteye begged, his voice cracking.
The car was silent for a few seconds while they both realized what he said. Nighteye tugged a bit on his collar, flustered that he lost his cool. Izuku continued his stoic stare at his feet.
"Do you miss him?" The boy mumbled, not looking up. Any rage that lingered in Nighteye froze at the question. His chest tightened a bit.
"Of course I miss him. He was my best friend and my mentor. I looked up to him." Nighteye said.
"If you really looked up to him… how did it make you feel when he put his faith in you?" Izuku continued. Nighteye leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together in thought. He remembered back to the early days when Nighteye had convinced All Might to let him be his sidekick.
At first, the man only used him for his future sight. He never let him run into battle with him and never made him pick up his slack. He didn't want to put his burden on Nighteye whatsoever.
After a few years of this, eventually they were pulled into a large-scale operation. It was to take down a huge crime boss in northern japan who had dozens of dangerous employees. This was the first time Nighteye was truly called into action as a combatant, and he would never forget what All Might said to him the night before it all went down.
"I believe in you. That's what he said to me. It was simple, but I've never forgotten it." Nighteye said. This made Izuku look up. Nighteye felt a twinge of regret in his chest when he realized the boy was tearing up.
"H-he said the same thing to me, too. "Be the Ninth Wielder. I believe in you."" Izuku said, sniffling. "He told me I could do it even though I had just gotten him killed… I hear it every single night."
Nighteye didn't know what to say. Midoriya had never shared what went on between them that day. He didn't interrupt as Izuku continued.
"He died so I could live. I want to honor him… but I'm tired of being selfish. If you really think that I'm not cut out to be the Ninth, then-"
He never got to finish, because their attention was ripped from their conversation as his car raised into the air. Nighteye peaked out the window to see what was going on and realized a second too late that a villain had picked up the whole vehicle.
Nighteye's seatbelt choked him as his car was thrown like a frisbee, sending all his possessions flying throughout the car as they flew.
Shit, Nighteye thought, he had stopped paying attention to the fight. He ripped his seat belt off of himself and Izuku, grabbing the surprised boy and leaping out of the flung car. Covering Izuku's head with his hands, Nighteye landed back-first against the concrete wall of an apartment complex. Cracks spread out from behind him as rubble and dust rained on him from above. He coughed, tasting copper in his mouth.
Dazed, he could only vaguely make out the sight of his destroyed car blocks down the road. One broke formation to come over to him and check his vitals, but Nighteye shooed him away, already recovering. He felt his face and cursed. His glasses were gone, and he hadn't brought a second pair. He checked Midoriya, he was unscathed, but his prosthetic had gotten lost mid-air.
As he stood up, he felt his mind sharpening into battle mode. The current conflict, when he had arrived, had been contained by a handful of heroes in a three-block radius. Now though, whenever Nighteye's attention had drifted from the battle, things had changed.
He had thought the villains were petty thieves, but it appeared they must've been a part of some local gang. Their buddies must have all come in to help fight off the heroes, which drastically changed the tides of the fight. The villains went from maybe five to over fifteen. Some of them were animal mutants, whereas a handful were just using plain old guns. He picked out his phone and sent a message through the Hero Network for backup.
He looked over to the hero who had come to make sure he was ok. He didn't recognize him, but he looked like he just got out of school. That was good, he was fresh on the protocol. The backup must already be on the way. Nigheye looked at Izuku.
"Get this kid out of the danger zone. Don't let him out of your sight until you're in the clear." He ordered. The young hero nodded, not questioning the order. Heroes didn't usually take orders from others, but Nighteye was known in every corner of the country, so the kid probably felt he couldn't refuse.
It didn't matter to Nighteye, so long as Midoriyia was out of the danger zone.
He scanned the fight from one end to the other to decide his plan of action. Most of the fighting was being done on his left, toward the supermarket. Nighteye wasn't concerned about that. The fighting near there was even. What he was concerned about was the very thin line of heroes keeping the other gangsters from joining their friends. If that group was to fall, this might turn into a problem for the main force.
His eyes settled onto the villain who had destroyed his car. He pulled out his Hyper-Density Seals, thumbing their cold surface as his eyes flashed an amethyst purple.
[x]
Izuku's head felt hollow as he was carried by the hero escorting him. He was hyperventilating. Nausea permeated his entire body as if he had been riding a rollercoaster for two hours straight. It wasn't the sudden movement from being saved from the car, nor was it the emotional stress of almost giving up One for All. It was the battle itself.
At this moment, all Izuku could think about was when he made the biggest mistake of his life. Images from the battle he had long since thought he blocked out made their way into his skull, giving him a splitting headache.
A man in a pristine black tux, his arms spread out as thousands of mechanical tentacles erupted from his back. The same man flying high into the sky, only to come back down with muscles the size of his apartment complex.
The man's fist, now normal-sized, inches from his face. The only thing stopping Izuku from being blown away being a human meat shield- All Might.
He cast his gaze out to the battle around them. Eight villains and five heroes were battling near him. Why was he here? Where was he? Did he wander into another battle?
Was another hero going to give up their life for him? He almost retched at the thought.
"Hey, hey! No throwing up. I'll get you out of here, little guy. Don't worry." The hero carrying him said. Izuku's head was pounding, but he took a second to look at who was carrying him. His suit was a bright yellow and white mix, with a large W centered on his chest. He knew this hero. Livewire. He had a simple electricity quirk.
His eyes dragged themselves toward the main fight. It was outside of a grocery store that he was intimately familiar with. Oh god, Izuku thought. Were the Tokages still in there? He swallowed.
"W-were you able to evacuate?" Izuku choked out. The hero looked grim.
"We cleared the streets, but any residents-" He never got to finish, because he was blind-sighted by another flung car. Livewire was sent flying, crashing into the back of an alleyway near them while Izuku was sent tumbling down to the concrete.
Despite his nausea and all the scrapes littering his body, Izuku was able to drag himself behind a building to avoid any more flying cars. He breathed in as hard as he could, holding it until it hurt before releasing it. Dr. Fujimaki had told him that the most important thing to do when panicking was to breathe, so he focused on that. In, out.
In...
Out.
In…
Out.
Once his head was spinning less, Izuku took stock of his body. His prosthetic was gone, lost somewhere between here and where they had parked. That was fine, it couldn't help him anyway. He felt around his limbs; none of them were broken. He was bleeding in four places, none of them his head. He was ok.
When he realized he was ok, his memories of the situation began to return to him. No, he hadn't wandered into the battle. Nighteye had tried taking him into a controlled environment to convince him he needed to give up One for All. He locked away those thoughts, they weren't going to help him. Where was Livewire?
He peaked down the alleyway he crawled into. Away from the road and in a pile of garbage bags, Livewire was sprawled out in unconsciousness. Izuku stumbled over to the hero to check his pulse. It was still beating. Izuku wasn't a medical expert, nor did he have a good understanding of the human body, but he knew that Livewires arm was broken. Arms weren't meant to bend that way.
He did his best to push it into the correct position before trying to pull him out of the side from the road. He didn't want any villains to see the unconscious hero and try and beat on him while he's down.
He grabbed at the hero's skin-tight suit, but he didn't quite have the grip strength to haul him to where he wanted. He settled on using the garbage bags as leverage while he rolled the unconscious man out sight. Izuku made a mental note to work on his grip strength. He needed it to be twice as strong as a normal person's.
With Livewire now safe, izuku remembered the main issue at hand. The streets were a warzone, and while there weren't any pedestrians in danger, anyone who lived in the area was threatened.
His stomach dropped as he remembered that he was almost 20 meters from Tokage Groceries. Izuku glanced at the villain fight. It was still going strong, but the fight was gradually being dragged towards the store.
Izuku couldn't fight anybody. Not just because he didn't have a license, but because he was weak. If he went back into that chaos, his panic attack would resurface and he'd probably be killed.
He had never wanted to be strong as he did right now. If he could use all of One for All, or even a little bit, he'd be able to clean up all these gangsters in a matter of seconds. Nobody could get hurt again. Livewire wouldn't have a broken arm and probably a concussion. Nighteye's car wouldn't be a burning pile of destroyed steel. If only he was strong…
Izuku slapped his cheeks; he was just a kid. He didn't have to do anything- he couldn't do anything.
If a hero didn't step up soon, the battle was going to be taken inside of the store. From across the street, Izuku could see cracks begin to form on the building's load-bearing walls. The building was being weathered rapidly by the onslaught of attacks from the villains.
Whenever an attack from the villains missed a hero, the building was the one that took the damage. It was a no-brainer for the heroes- they'd rather the building tank the big hits than get hurt themselves. What they didn't know, however, was that an entire family lived in that building. An entire family that showed nothing but kindness to Izuku.
In…
Out.
Before Izuku even knew what he was doing, he was sprinting across the street.