Chpt 15: Cry, Corruption
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The next day the teachers announce a melee:
Midoriya against 1-A, 1-B, Togata-senpai and Bakugō.
Eijirō calmly assesses everything he's seen of Midoriya, from the teleportation, super strength and nervous, apprehensive attitude, and thinks that forty on one might be a little bit much. Sure, Anomalies are CRAZY, but Eijirō feels kinda bad about going after Midoriya.
"Alright, Kohai, gather up!" Togata-senpai crows. Eijirō frowns, peels his eyes from Midoriya's stretching and goes to join the huddle. Class B has started getting on pretty well with Togata-senpai, but there's still a clear line between the two classes as they huddle up. "I'm sure you're all thinking that the odds are in our favor, right?"
A ripple of insecurity runs through the crowd as the third-year grins.
"How should I put this…" A flicker of lightning runs up the boy's arm as he taps his chin, spreading from his shoulder over and around his body. The crowd startles as he grins and smacks his fist into his open palm. "Today's lesson is how to lose with grace!"
The classes stare back at him blankly. White lightning continues dancing along the boy's frame. Eijirō's jaw drops as he realizes his senpai is glowing.
"The truth is that we don't stand a chance. So just give it your all!"
"Speak for yourself, Sparky," Bakugō shoulders his way out of the crowd with a growl. "I'm gonna kill him."
"Man, he's a riot!" Togata-senpai laughs. "Just remember to give it your all, Kohai! You'll never really lose as long as you give everything you have and work together."
That sounds like it came out of an anime. Eijirō isn't one to judge, but it sounds very… fluffy? A ripple of unease and discontent rolls through the group as they peel off and form squads with their friends. For the most part the two classes keep to themselves, but that's to be expected. Not many of them know very much about their sister class.
Eijirō finds Tetsutetsu before anything else and pulls him aside.
"I'll be honest with you, bro," Eijirō frowns as he glances back to Midoriya. "I think we'll get in the way here. Our best bet might be…"
"What?! No way!" Steam jets from Tetsutetsu's nose. "This is our first exercise together! What kind of hero gives up from the get-go?!"
"I'm not saying…"
"You need to man up, Kirishima! This is the time to go Plus Ultra!" Tetsutetsu slams a fist into Eijirō's chest before he storms off, and suddenly Eijirō is fighting off a bit of shame and a whole lot of worry.
"That didn't go well, did it?" Yaomomo calls. Eijirō shrugs and smiles as he watches Class B get riled up.
"I feel kinda bad for going forty against one. Midoriya is a nice guy." He sighs. Yaomomo nods, wrapping her arms around her torso. "But… I guess Tetsutetsu is right, in the end. We're going to be heroes, we can't afford to give up before we even start, right?"
"Honestly? I don't know what to expect. This many people working in tandem… Can we even do this properly?" Yaomomo mutters. "Aizawa-sensei has to know that this many people will hurt us more than help."
"I'll bet that's why they think it's okay," Eijirō's eyes narrow as he watches Midoriya chat with Melissa-san in the middle of the gym. "But either way, we have to do this. Might as well do it right!"
Yaomomo doesn't have a response to that. Eijirō's battle cry doesn't get anyone pumped up, despite his best efforts.
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Toshinori offers Melissa a smile as the girl returns from the battlefield and joins the teachers on the sidelines. She slips in between Kurobayashi and Toshinori with a bounce in her step.
"How long do you think they'll last?" Kurobayashi asks her. Toshinori frowns at them curiously and finds his ward hiding a grin behind one hand.
"Well, they have Bakugō-kun and Mirio-kun… I don't think many of them will give up easily, and Izuku-kun will want to take his time," The girl hums to herself before she turns to face the shark. "Ten minutes?"
Toshinori frowns. Kurobayashi rumbles and blinks a few times.
"You have faith in Bakugō-kun and Togata-kun, Melissa-san. I'd say no more than seven minutes even if Izuku-kun is being gentle."
"Isn't that a bit harsh?" Toshinori whines, earning him a pair of dangerous smiles for his trouble. "I mean…"
"Normally we wouldn't think of doing this, but Izuku-kun wants to see how they use their quirks in combat," Kurobayashi growls quietly. "Vlad-san and Aizawa-san both prefer a practical approach, though I'm certain Izuku-kun will turn that on its head within the week. Either way these kids stand no chance against that boy."
"Even if I wanted to be generous, Izuku-kun already fought Bakugō-kun and Todoroki-san a few days ago…" Melissa frowns. Toshinori makes a point to bring that up later. He knows that she's been mostly on her own lately, especially since she's started going down to Hatsume's lab for work, but he worries. "It didn't go well for them. Bakugō-kun was lucky that we had an upgraded prosthetic ready."
Well isn't that worrying. Just what has Toshinori thrown the kids into?
"Alright, we're getting started. This will be done when Midoriya goes down or when none of his opponents can continue. No vital injuries or crippling your opponents. Heroes, your job is to incapacitate or capture Midoriya. Midoriya… just don't break them." Aizawa calls. The classes surround the green haired student quietly, sporting grim expressions. "Begin!"
For good measure, Toshinori burns One for All as Aizawa calls start.
His eyes widen as Mirio and Bakugō materialize on either side of…
Wait. Midoriya is gone.
One for All goes from a simmer to a boil as the wall on Toshinori's left explodes.
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Izuku huffs as he passes Mirio and Kacchan. The pair are hurtling through the air wearing cloaks of ash and lightning, each one closing in on the empty space he's left behind. He doesn't like the 'illusions' left behind when he moves like this, but every time he calls it cheating people rolls their eyes. Kacchan just growls and tells him to stop being a bitch.
Today isn't about Anomalies, so he'll worry about those two later. He edges a little further into shatter speed and watches his 'classmates' grind to a halt midflight. Outrunning Kacchan takes a little more effort than Izuku expected, but he's forgotten just how quickly Kacchan evolves over the past year.
Walking the field takes a while. Even with all the time in the world, Izuku can't help but feel like he's running late. There are thirty-eight quirks that he's only ever seen through a television screen and two-dimensional projections. Most of them can't be analyzed in nanoseconds, but he can see traces of their styles and run predictions.
Tetsutetsu isn't entirely steel yet. Izuku leans in close as the silver sheen crawls across the boy's chest and hums as the individual hairs become tiny barbs. Given the length and the scarcity of hairs on Tetsutetsu's chest and arms, Izuku has to assume they break easily enough but it's an interesting tidbit.
Setsuna hasn't split apart entirely yet. Watching her hands peel away from her body is fascinating and a little bit nauseating.
Kaminari barely starting to spark. Whether that's a factor of Kaminari's skin resisting his lightning like every other person's or whether his body functions as some kind of semi-conducting dielectric remains to be seen.
Todoroki hasn't moved at all. Neither has Yaoyorozu-san.
Yui has… started picking up rocks. Maybe. Izuku isn't sure. Not a terrible idea depending on how she uses them.
Shiozaki's vines are reproducing exponentially faster than most plant life. Izuku can see the growth as he circles her, though she's… by his guess, she's non-combative.
Interesting.
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With One for All burning at fifty percent Toshinori has a tentative handle on the fight. He can see Mirio and Bakugō moving around the battlefield, at least. The other students are crawling by comparison, but they're present.
Midoriya is a ghost. Toshinori can only track afterimages as he wanders the battlefield. Occasionally he'll lost the boy and watch Mirio and Bakugō for a few moments. Somehow, they can track the boy, despite the clones fading in and out of the battlefield.
A student flies out of bounds every twenty to thirty seconds.
Toshinori winces as Tetsutetsu carves a trench off to his left. He takes a moment to double check on the boy and finds a groaning, relatively intact teenager half buried in concrete. When he looks back to the battlefield a curtain of wind slams into his face and bites his eyes. One for All roars to life as his jaw drops.
Toshinori's successor has a leg aimed at Midoriya's head while Bakugō throws a punch at a kidney. Midoriya's arms flicker into existence as the boy continues walking. Bakugō flies from his standstill and hits the ground like a mortar. A streak of platinum blonde lightning bounces off the wall and gradually slows down to Mirio's top speed.
It's a miracle he managed to redirect himself at all.
Jirō and Asui hit the ground like rag dolls for no reason. Toshinori goes back to scanning the battlefield.
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Momo has no idea what's happening. People are dropping like flies. Bakugō and Togata-senpai are bouncing around the gym like pinballs. Quirks and fear flood the empty space as they try to keep track of the 'villain'.
She gravitates towards Todoroki just… because.
What else is she supposed to do?
"This is exactly the same," Todoroki mutters. Momo frowns as she glances in his direction. He huffs when he notices her, then turns to watch Shoji-kun make an impressive crater in the wall and hang there as if he weren't dangling three meters up in the air. "You can't fight what you can't see."
Momo can't disagree. She wants to, but her legs won't move and she's absolutely certain that if she opens her mouth right now everything will come out twisted. Bakugō flies by her right shoulder trailing ash clouds and jets of flame, but he's moving far faster than he did in his first battle with Midoriya-kun.
She winces as the wall on her right explodes. The dust is infused with lightning, so she takes a moment to watch as it settles. Kaminari falls like a rag doll after a brief stumble.
Not Togata-senpai, then. She sighs as another blast rolls out of the battle and the gym gains three more… dents. A glance at her watch tells her that this has been the longest three minutes of her life. Barely more than half of her classmates are left. Those that are still standing look ready to run, lest they receive the same treatment.
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Eijirō was wrong. He was HORRIBLY wrong. Midoriya isn't human.
Standing on this battlefield reminds him of USJ. None of the teachers are going to save him this time. He can't see what's coming for him. All he can do…He screams as someone taps him on the shoulder. Midoriya instantly appears to Eijirō's left, but he looks… staticky?
"Sor-sorry, d-didn't mean to, to spoo-ook you!" Midoriya yelps. Eijirō glances to his right and finds more images moving around. "Just figured I'd remind you to keep your guard up. We've been training and everything, so it doesn't feel right to catch you off guard."
Eijirō doesn't have a response for that.
"Kirishima-san… shit, hold on," Midoriya frowns and disappears. The ground on either side of Eijirō shatters. Dust clouds are blown to shreds and recreated faster than Eijirō can keep track of, leaving him trapped in a localized earthquake just long enough to leave him rattled and falling to his knees. It's suddenly too warm to be wearing winter uniforms, but Eijirō isn't sure if that's because he's terrified and panicking or because Midoriya just used Bakugō like a chew toy and hurled him across the gym for good measure. Before his knees can even hit the ground Midoriya is there- real, solid Midoriya- pulling him to his feet.
"Look, Kirishima-kun, I'll be blunt." Midoriya crosses his arms as Eijirō stares at him from trembling legs. "You're strong, but this is going to hurt no matter what. So,"
Midoriya's figure turns staticky again and another quake rattles the gym from somewhere behind Eijirō.
"…You need to accept it and give this everything you have. You can't get stronger until you've found a reason to improve."
Eijirō blinks and the boy is gone. The gym continues to shake, dust clouds bloom and die, people grow from formerly unharmed pieces of concrete. Lightning, fire and wind tear through the battlefield randomly.
"Damn it!" Eijirō slaps his cheeks as he replays Midoriya's words. "He… Shit, he's right, isn't he? This is just like final exams! Cementoss-sensei went easy on us then! What if we were up against All Might?! Damn it!"
Red Riot screams. The sound of broken glass joins the shaking rafters and the screams of panic filling the gym. Eijirō's last memory of the exercise is a flash of green and PAIN.
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Izuku sighs as he sets yet another assignment atop the pile of completed work. He's nowhere near done, barely three quarters of the way through, actually, and he's already exhausted. Classes at U.A. move faster than his last school. Adding Quirk Analysis to his workload is a nightmare and a half.
At the very least he isn't alone. Laughter rolls out of the kitchen and the sitting room. Kurobayashi-sensei's wife is helping Mom cook and his friends are sitting on the couches laughing about Akira's crush on Midnight-sensei. Eri is… somewhere. She's probably hanging out with his friends or drawing something for Kurobayashi-sensei.
Despite the number of vacancies in the S-class dorm the building is almost always full. Not every night, but close to it. There will always be homework, projects, relaxation… other friends. Izuku is already banned from making sure that his friends aren't neglecting their own classes in favor of spending time in his dorm.
They claim that the cooking here is way better than in their dorms. Izuku can't argue with that. His mother has some fantastic recipes.
He glances up as the chair across from him grinds against the metal and Kacchan drops himself into it with a pile of his own work. After a brief glare the blonde drops himself into their homework. Izuku checks the time and does the same.
A few minutes later an eraser hits Izuku's palm instead of his head. He's already glaring at Kacchan when he realizes that the dorm has gone mostly quite around them. It takes him a minute to remember the first time he heard sounds in pieces like this instead of wrapping himself in silence.
"You could have asked." He huffs. Kacchan's eyes narrow even further.
"Gimme your workout routine."
"Talk to Kurobayashi-sensei first." Izuku turns back to his homework. Kacchan hits the table and revs his arm. The glare narrows again when Izuku's eyes linger on the prosthetic for too long. "I'm serious. He's the one who helped me when I first started."
"Fucking sharkface isn't like us." Kacchan spits. Izuku considers that.
Kacchan has been an Anomaly for a few months now. He's reaching shatter speed on his own. Izuku's first instinct is to start at the beginning, but Kacchan is a different person.
"I don't know where to start," He sighs when the blonde curses under his breath. "Look, Kacchan, my routine was tailored to me. I used training dummies and a weight regiment that I built myself. Giving you my routine wouldn't do anything for you right away."
The blonde clicks his tongue and sulks. Izuku smiles softly. 'Sulking' usually isn't so angry, but there's no word for this that truly sums it up.
"Fuck do you manage all of it?"
"Muscle activation?" Izuku shrugs.
"Hah? English*, nerd!"
"I picked out the muscles I wanted to use once I got far enough into my routine," Izuku is hesitant to say this. He knows on some level that Kacchan will probably make fun of him for it. There's a level of absurdity and painfully straightforward thinking to his method that makes it sound useless or impossible. "Before I was strong enough to do anything ridiculous, I was micromanaging how much effort I used to go down the stairs. At first it was because I hurt all over, but then it was… I realized that if I used the right combinations, I could keep working out even when I wasn't going to the gym."
Kacchan stares at him for a minute before turning his eyes back to his homework. They spend a few microseconds in silence, one glowering as he processes that information, one picking apart the sounds expanding throughout the room. Eventually Kacchan speaks up again.
"You got number seventeen wrong."
Izuku frowns as he looks back over his math and curses when he realizes the mistake he made with his integration.
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It hasn't even been a week since the S-class joined U.A.
It hasn't even been a week.
Momo groans as a matryoshka pops out of her thigh.
"You okay Yaomomo?" Mina frowns as she plucks the little doll open and finds it full. Momo smiles as Tooru and Mina start opening them and dropping the tops across the homework strewn across the table.
"Of course. I'm just… It hasn't even been a week…!" Her back hits the chair as she deflates. It takes a moment before she realizes that everyone at the table has gone still and started staring off into space.
"Fuck."
Every eye turns to Ochako. The curse, while not unheard of from their classmates, is a rare thing from their doll-faced friend. After a moment Mina starts laughing. Momo can't help chuckle as it spreads to the rest, as Mina tends to do. Tooru-chan throws herself over Ochako's shoulders and tries to cover the girl's mouth for saying a bad word, but Momo finds herself locked on Ashido and the warmth against her left shoulder.
"Yeah, same," Mina sighs and falls onto a hand. The face she makes is adorable, as always. Something about Mina's pink skin and the way the light hits the black of her eyes is enchanting. It looks like a painting or a photo, but Momo can't ever keep track of the moments. "Everything is moving so fast. The S-class, Midoriya and Kurobayashi-sensei, Bakugō…"
"Hasn't it always been like this though?" Kyōka sighs and drops her homework. Momo's smirk grows some as her friend drops her prickly exterior and joins the conversation. "Between the Sports Festival and USJ and the summer camp, we've always had one thing after another. When we came back for the second term it was training training training! But everyone was still freaking out over Deku."
"Yeah, our new classmate slash teacher slash… tutor? Friend?" Tooru's pencil taps against the table a few times before she stills. "What is Midoriya?"
"An Anomaly," Tsuyu-chan croaks. Momo snorts despite herself and has to take a moment to school her expression again, but she can't quite smile like before when the conversation has turned to one of her… issues.
They've had three days of class together. Homework and training have dominated most of Momo's free time, but she can't help but wonder if she's using that as an excuse. Midoriya doesn't text her. She doesn't text him.
Whatever their relationship is consists of nervous glances across a busy cafeteria and the occasional wave across a restless classroom. They haven't talked during training because Midoriya has been going around helping people with quirk analyses… Yet another personality trait that Momo probably should have seen, but never understood.
Midoriya seems content to leaves things like this.
Kyōka nudges her shoulder just enough to knock her out of her own head and draw her attention.
"Whatcha thinking about?"
"Just… how different things are." Momo mutters. Ochako, Mina and Tooru are off on a tangent, Tsuyu-chan is drifting between the homework and their conversations, and Kyōka… has violet eyes fixed on Momo's blushing face.
"Don't get so caught up in everything, girl." Kyōka bumps Momo's side with an elbow as she leans back into her homework.
The excitement mulls some as Tooru and Mina bounce out to grab drinks, as the boys drift through and into and out of. Afternoon light slants through the windows and fails them. Momo finishes her homework, then her dinner, then her shower… her evening readings…
She does not shake the feeling of… Uncertainty? There must be a better word for this feeling. Her mind drifts through her vocabulary as she lies awake in bed and finds scenes from the Midoriya's apartment stuffed between words.
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The room is full of criminals. Some of them aren't quite criminals, more like strays. A few get their own little portion of the floor to stand because no one is willing to get too close, despite the fact that the room is more than full. More than a few have taken to the ceiling or the wall for comfort.
"Alright, alright, everyone here?" A smiley guy in a lab coat claps his hands to get their attention, then hefts a briefcase onto the small table in front of him. "Great, great, let's get started!"
Some of them shift. A few of groups share quiet conversations. No one is sure how much the others know, and none of them are entirely sure why they're here at all. There's an urge to get up and take control of the room, but a few of them were involved with the League. People hadn't known who he was, or who Dabi was, before he'd killed a few of them to make a point.
This guy almost looks as crazy as Shigaraki. He's better dressed. Knows what Chapstick is. Smiles like a cretin and walks around like he belongs in a mental health ward or a circus.
A lot of the people in this meeting are rethinking their decisions. Not many of them were very good at that to begin with.
Glass rattles as the briefcase falls open, revealing glowing purple flasks.
"Who's game to try an experimental treatment?"
A hand rises from the crowd, then falls as someone elbows the idiot in the ribs. The tension eases as people laugh.
"What are you treating?" Someone asks.
The stranger's hand shifts from behind his ear and drags down his face, then flops to his side. His head falls back and his laughs once, twice… trails off and sighs with enough weight to raise hackles throughout the room.
"Loads of things, absolute loads! But if you want a blanket term…" An elbow lands atop the open case as the stranger lounges and smirks. "I'll cure your humanity for free. Ain't that a bargain?"
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Lunch at U.A. is interesting. Everyone knows Izuku is part of the S-class, and they know that the S-class is different. Not many people know to credit him with all the explosions, destruction of property and remodeling of U.A. property, but they don't need nearly that much to find him odd and interesting.
On the first day, he sits with his friends. He shares a glance with Yaoyorozu-san and wonders if he can invite her, but they're already a pretty large group. Plus, she has friends to sit with. They share a glance, and Izuku does his best to wave. It comes out pretty badly in his opinion.
Tachibana, Erin-senpai and Kābā all make a point to acknowledge the gesture, but no one comments on it. Everyone just moved schools on various scholarships and moved out of their homes. Classes, friendships, dorm mayhaps are all much more important than Izuku's chronic awkwardness.
Gradually people drift. Each day someone rolls away from the little place they made for themselves on the first day, and Izuku remains the only constant. He isn't super comfortable in the cafeteria, especially after what the heroes have him do during the heroic's periods.
When he starts offering analysis and theories on quirks it gets a little better. Students from 1-A and 1-B drop by to chat. Izuku makes a point to be as human as possible. Mirio-senpai brings the other two members of the Big Three, Hadō-senpai and Amajiki-senpai around on the third or fourth day of classes.
Izuku remains at his table when they've all found other places to sit. His phone already has messages on it asking if he wants company, but a couple spare notebooks fill the empty space well enough. Tachibana doesn't like his answer, but she doesn't pursue it much.
He's not a suspected delinquent or serial murderer here, but people are staring. Maybe they're staring because he's Deku, or because he's supposed to be special. The staring doesn't make him feel 'special'.
There's this… stuffiness in the air. A few times Izuku has to take a break from eating and studying to try meditation techniques. He's not panicking or angry, but he can feel the weight of the room. Of the school.
It's not necessarily uncomfortable. Just new.
Kacchan remains pointedly absent from the cafeteria all week.
One morning his mom catches him on his way out the door to ask about the kids from class A. Izuku shrugs and says they're okay, he thinks. Everyone is still figuring this out, he says. Her smile speaks volumes, but she makes a point of grabbing his arm before he can leave anyways.
"You should invite her over. Principal Nezu recommended a new tea I think she might like." She says.
Izuku isn't sure how to tell Inko that he knocked most of Yaoyorozu-san's friends unconscious on the second day of class. He's still not sure how much she knows about the heroics' course, or what Kurobayashi-sensei tells her when they chat over dinner prep and paperwork. Worst of all he isn't sure how the HELL he's supposed to invite a lady over in the first place.
She kicks him out before his stammering makes him late. It doesn't do him any good considering Yaoyorozu-san is waiting in the classroom. Aizawa-sensei lets him off when a mildly veiled threat for being a few minutes behind.
They continue to share glances throughout the week.
Izuku keeps telling himself that it will work itself out once everyone has settled in.
Kābā keeps swatting him on the back of the head for some reason. He says it's from some old American TV show his grandfather enjoyed. If it hurt, Izuku would say something. At this point all he can do is figure what he's doing wrong.
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Katsuki's lip twitches as the conversations in the classroom stutter in and out. He can't shut them up: either the room is full of broken sounds or conversation. Deku keeps speed with the extras when Katsuki speeds up, and it bothers Katsuki more than he wants to admit.
He feels like he's missing something. Deku does this as naturally as breathing. Katsuki takes too long.
After getting so utterly put down on Monday, he's spent a week testing this… technique. Speed isn't quite right: they're not increasing their speed, really. Perception and displacement stay the same. When Katsuki speeds up he goes from seconds to milliseconds to hundreds of microseconds…
His left-hand hurts from writing. The metal one growls whenever he uses it to take notes.
It growls as he plays with the fingers. Claws pop in and out with the right motion, then collapse as he makes a fist. Engines whine and rev and relax. Metal warms and cools. Slowly the growling fades and his arm becomes an arm again.
He returns to normal speed just as slowly. Looks around the room to soothe the prickling in his nape.
Before he's actually back he notices Deku watching him. Actually watching him. Keeping time with him as they roll centiseconds into seconds and the broken inflections become white noise and conversations.
He grabs his bag and shoves his notebook into it without a second thought. No one questions him while he stalks out of the room.
There's no reason for Katsuki to stop down the hall from the elevator. He was never afraid of that little tantrum Deku threw before they took the extras down below for the first time. Other people may think that pink-haired freak is scary, but Katsuki knows better. And despite Katsuki's instincts, the odd ways his arm shudders and growls must to be his imagination. Something left over from the attack. Elevators don't yawn. It isn't staring back at him from the end of the hall expectantly.
He isn't running away. Missing class isn't an issue.
No buttons exist for Hatsume's lab. The elevator simply descends, and Katsuki fights to take deep breaths. Even the tiniest sensation of freefall vertigo makes his skin crawl. It absolutely does not have anything to do with his other issues.
He's fucking FINE. Everything is fine.
The lab hasn't changed much since Katsuki first came. Dreadlocks did his operation here with the Doc's help. Machines roll through, arms shuffle around, computer servers hum, and machinery makes machinery noises. Nothing Katsuki concerns himself with. He ignores the movement underneath the catwalk as he stomps across the catwalk into Dreadlocks' nest. Several machines shift and rev when he reaches the steps.
"Uncle Bakugō!" Maya's looking better than the last time. Doc finished growing out the carbon nanotubes used for hair and turned it into something that actually looks real. She can skip like a real kid now, and she falls into step beside him easily. He spares a glance. The synthetic skin Doc designed is off over Maya's left eye and the left side of her mouth. "Aren't classes continuing?"
"Hold up, brat." Katsuki is already turned to face the android as he shifts his backpack off his shoulder, down into his metal hand and into a lazy toss. Maya is turning to face him, hands eerily still at her sides with what should be a polite smile masking her machinery.
He accelerates as he kneels. Frowns as his eyes traces the weave of the little girl's cheek.
It takes a little push on her eyebrow and a tug on her cheek, just beneath her nose. A metal thumb runs down her jaw and pushes up to fix the last catch, and suddenly the android looks less like a fake person and more like a kid who's way too smart for her size.
"You gotta learn how to do that yourself." He growls. Maya's grin spreads as she nods, trailing behind him as he stands and makes his way towards the Doc. She's twisting in her chair as they reach her station: a computer desk, her toolbox, a little metal rocking horse. Katsuki's backpack is nestled the same place as always: the corner of her 'cubicle', just under the lip of her desk. Fake walls hide the server portion of the wall from view, but Katsuki has seen these walls fold back on command.
"Is something wrong with the arm?"
"Nah. I'm here to talk to the eyeball." Katsuki jerks a thumb upward. The Doc frowns. Nods, shrugs, smiles at Maya. Goes back to work.
He doesn't care if Doc has been giving him the cold shoulder lately. Either she'll tell him about it or she won't.
"Bakugō-kun. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Eyeball asks. Katsuki glances at the mess of holograms hovering between the Eyeball's core and the left wall of the lab. No one other than Dreadlocks and Goldilocks can operate holographic interfaces faster than their framerate, so he has to assume both of them are up there. Usually they don't keep track of visitors.
"You've got Deku's training records." Katsuki says.
"Those are locked by Midoriya-kun's account. Not even I have the ability to override his user value." Eyeball replies.
"Tell me about his speed." Katsuki says.
Eyeball blinks. The hum of the lab fills the space between them. Katsuki's arm growls when Eyeball blinks again.
"Well?"
"Ask politely."
"Why the fuck should I?"
"Adjusting intelligence level, subject: Bakugō Katsuki, to pre-grade school…"
"Fucking TRY…!"
"Monitor!" The Doc's voice cuts their conversation like a scalpel. "What did Izuku and I tell you about being passive aggressive?"
"Bakugō-kun treats neither Midoriya-kun or Mother with any of the protocols in my Respect module, Doctor, I fail to see…"
"Answer the question, Monitor." Katsuki glares at the Doc as Eyeball trails off. The shutter clicks twice. Doc's chair rolls out from her makeshift cubicle and rubs her forehead as if she's nursing a headache.
"Casual Respect Directive statement seventeen-point-four-dash-three states that passive aggressive behavior includes the alteration of subject files to reflect states less than the summation of data collected." Eyeball shifts to hover halfway between Katsuki and the Doc's chair. A leg lifts and folds over her knee as she lifts her eyes toward the mechanical smartass hanging from her ceiling. Katsuki's eyes catch on the gloss of her red pumps before trailing up her leg. He lingers on the patterns of her dress since he already knows which expression she's wearing.
"Maya, what's the first thing you do if someone is rude?" Even Doc's smile is tired. Maya fits herself into the woman's arm before she's even finished asking the question, smiling happily as Doc's hands pick out the wrinkles where metal catches her dress.
"Beings of higher intelligence tend towards rude or disrespectful behavior when stressed, threatened or caught on internal arguments," The little android recites her programming with her eyes closed and her hands clasped in front of her. She sways back and forth for good measure. "Rudeness is a default in some subjects but can be avoided when using the correct inputs and responses."
"And WHY aren't you allowed to be rude back?" Doc cocks her head, slipping a little more color into her smile. Maya mimics the expression perfectly.
"Despite Mother's prowess, I am unable to register the previous state of any subjects I may come into contact with. Being rude to others is strictly restricted to prevent confrontation or misunderstanding. And," The android's eyes snap open and turn to Eyeball. Katsuki turns away when he catches a familiar smirk taking shape. "Being rude removes the ability to quietly dismantle an opponent's emotional biases and reveal less than optimal data…"
"Maya, that is not…!" The Doc sounds fucking scandalized. Katsuki's spine tightens as her attention snaps to him. "Katsuki!"
"Was I wrong, Mama?"
"No, Maya, but I want that response saved somewhere OUTSIDE of your Respect protocols, okay? Katsuki you arrogant…!"
"What're you lookin at me for, Doc, who says I have any fuckin' access to what the brat learns?" Katsuki tries and fails to remove his grin before he turns around. He shouldn't have bothered. The Doc looks ready to wipe it off his face for him as she closes the distance.
"Oh, so it was Izuku-kun?" She crosses her arms. Katsuki doesn't bother answering. "Could you NOT teach Maya to be a complete and total ass when you come visit?"
"Why keep it around then, hah?" Katsuki growls. They're not close, but they're close enough that he isn't sure if this heat is from her glare or his prosthetic.
"At least finish the job! There's too much programming for anyone to sort through and debug! Trillions of lines of code, constant flux, selective storage…"
"I know that shit, remember? You gave me a fucking lecture the first time!"
"Then think it through!" She closes the distance to shove a finger into his chest with enough force to leave a bruise right over his heart. "Quit acting like a petty child when you're teaching a REAL CHILD!"
"Fine!" Katsuki snaps. The Doc hovers for a moment before she stalks back towards her desk and opens one of the drawers.
"Monitor. Behave."
"Understood Doctor."
"Here." Katsuki snatches the object out of the air and sneers at the shape. His objections die in his throat when he catches the look on the Doc's face. "It's not a hearing aid. That's an upgraded version of the earpiece Mei gave Izuku. You can use it to interface with Monitor directly."
She drops into her chair with a huff, glaring solely at Katsuki.
"Now you don't need to come down to the lab unless you need repairs."
He almost responds. There's not much to say.
Maya glances back and forth between the two of them as Katsuki fits the earpiece onto his left side. She's back to being eerily still, mirroring the way the Doc frowns when she's upset… which is anytime Katsuki is around, lately.
"How's the fit, Scrap?"
"Seamless, Blasty."
"Fucking brilliant." Katsuki ignores Maya's stare as he grabs his backpack from the Doc's cubicle. He hesitates for half a second and eyes the tension in her shoulders. "…Want a massage or something?"
"What's the occasion?" The Doc mutters. Katsuki snorts and makes his way toward the stairs. Maya catches the hem of his blazer before he can make it all the way.
"Uncle, should I have hidden that protocol?" She says it quietly. They both know the Doc can hear, even though they're all the way across Dreadlocks' nest. Katsuki spares a glance at her shoulders before he turns and looks down at Maya.
"Don't hide shit from your parents, kid. That only gets you in trouble."
"Am I not in trouble for learning incorrect actions?"
"Hell no," Katsuki pauses. Throws out everything he wants to say. Shoves the freshly built frustration into someplace that's already overfull and stomps it down for good measure before he sighs. "Does your mom ever say you're in trouble?"
"No. Visitors are the only ones who bring that up."
"Forget that shit. Listen to the Doc." The android nods. Katsuki scowls and waves his hand side to side. "Who taught you that little… sway bit."
"Uncle Zuku has been helping me whenever I have questions about human interaction. He didn't tell me why extraneous movements were required, though." Maya trails off with a pout. Katsuki has no idea what programming is, but he imagines this would be some sort of loop portion of her intelligence. He sets a hand on her head and pats it once, careful not to mess up her hairdo.
"Do that more. People are always moving. Things only stay still when they're in trouble or hiding. And take a run through Deku's fucking vocabulary. You're too damn smart."
"Okay Uncle Blasty!"
"No. Fuck no." Katsuki growls. Maya grins like the little shit he expects Maya to be as he re-shoulders his bag and takes to the steps. He doesn't bother looking over his shoulder. By now the Doc is moving again. If he's lucky he did something right for once and she won't kick him out next time he tries to get away from the extras.
-000-
-000-
Meditation isn't easy. Izuku finds it ironic that it feels like hunting, even though the activities are theoretically on opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. All he has is a memory of the mental state he wants. Not weightlessness, but a soft sense of direction and togetherness. Comfort, for both himself and for others. Words on the tip of his tongue with just a touch of a skip in his step, enough to replace anxiety with a bit more color in his memory.
Thinking isn't the enemy. His usual lines of thought are, though.
Deep breaths, by normal standards. A rush on the tip of his tongue.
He stumbles over a long dead memory and startles his inner peace so badly that he wants to grind his teeth.
"Inner peace…" Izuku sighs. He thinks of Eri, Inko, Melissa… Yaoyorozu. He blinks and shakes his head. "Nope, no, not… Inner peace…!"
But no. He's already off, several stops past the listlessness he'd been looking for as his memories of the woman play out like a train crash. Ripping his mind from the good memories drops him straight into the moment where he tore the dining room table in half and now, he's shaking his head, digging his hands into his eyes to try and bury the memories again.
"Damn it…" He sighs. "I can't. I can't I can't I can't…"
-000-
-000-
There are plenty of reasons for Shōta to be awake at five am. First there's this bullshit Nezu has tacked onto his work schedule, the Anomaly 'reveal' (he hadn't been there to meet Midoriya in person the first time, so he's somewhat new to this particular brand of crazy) and then the news that his students have been fraternizing with the S-class in some very worrying ways. Growing a new Anomaly from his already trouble ridden class would be a nightmare squared.
Mostly he's worried about the S-Class. They're some of the most chaotic teenagers that Shōta has ever met, and that's saying something. Introducing a bunch of teenagers with god-like powers to society under a blanket of 'rules' and asking them to behave is just… it's stupid. Everyone knows this on some level. No one told All Might that he was causing collateral damage until several years into his career, or very, very early in the man's career.
You just don't TELL a god that they need to behave. It's ridiculous.
Unlike usual, though, Shōta doesn't have to sit in his apartment and just be awake. Instead he gets to hop on a cart and wheel himself over to Hatsume's latest creation… Training Ground Alpha-Omega (Ground AO for short).
The Anomaly-proof training ground.
Everything is intimidating. The girl has absolutely no rational sense of 'normal' or 'metropolitan'. Hatsume's aesthetic is some kind of futuristic-goth-dystopia where everything is built from black metal with exposed I-beams, sharp corners and brutalist constructs hidden among otherwise average office buildings.
Shōta kind of likes it. It makes brooding feel more… significant. The old comics always made it seem more fulfilling than it really is, but here in the empty cityscape he feels somewhat like the graphic superheroes.
It's also completely unrealistic, so there's no point in getting attached to the satisfaction. He only stops to brood twice on his exploration.
Just as he's getting ready to flip out of his second finalBatman impression brooding appraisal, he notices Midoriya sitting in one of the fake parks. He watches for a moment, long enough to realize that the boy is trying to mediate and failing, if the head shake is any sort of indication. Once his hesitation passes, he flips in that direction and stalks through the 'park': a wide stretch of metal panels surrounded by concrete with a fake playground on the far side.
"You're a bit young to be meditating, aren't you? Puberty usually gets in the way of that." Shōta calls. The boy slumps a bit.
"Company, too." Midoriya mutters. Shōta huffs into his capture weapon and stares at the boy's shoulders. "I won't bite, Eraserhead-sensei."
"Aizawa," Shōta frowns as the boy turns and looks at him curiously. "We aren't in the field. I'm Aizawa-sensei, got it?"
"Yes Sensei. Sorry," Midoriya slumps again. Shōta raises an eyebrow. "I'm still getting used to all this."
"That's normal. I didn't think you'd be adjusted after a week."
"I… Yeah, I guess."
"Something bothering you, kid?"
"No sensei. Just getting in my morning meditation before my routine."
"Meditating in a goth cyberscape doesn't sound healthy, Midoriya."
"I'm not exactly 'normal', sensei. Mei-chan made this place so that I could let off some steam." Midoriya sighs, then stands up and rolls his shoulder. "Guess I'm not gonna get there today."
Shōta doesn't move. He's standing a decent way away, which makes conversation a bit awkward. Midoriya doesn't comment on it. Instead the boy drops to his hands and starts doing pushups.
After a few reps, the boy becomes a blur. Shōta's eyes hurt just watching green and white blend together like that, but he continues to watch despite that. For nearly ten minutes the boy does this. When he's done, he casually flips his legs into the air and does it again vertically. When he finishes THAT, he pushes himself onto a single finger and blurs, though his hand remains so still that Shōta can pick out beads of sweat dripping down the boy's fingers.
The heat hits Shōta when Midoriya finishes his handstand-ups (he made sure to use every finger first, pinkies and thumbs included) and starts on crunches. He's nearly pulled off his capture weapon and rolled up his sleeves when he checks his phone and finds that the temperature hasn't risen at all: it's still an early winter morning and the sun is a bit late today.
He's been watching Midoriya for almost thirty minutes.
Shōta blinks, looking up from his phone to the blur in front of him.
Pushups, handstand-ups, fingertip handstand-ups on every finger, crunches, planks, side planks, dragon flags… It takes him an hour and a half only because the boy insists on holding his planks for ten minutes apiece and his flags for twenty.
When he stands up and does some back flips that look lazy, Shōta finally steps in. The heat flooding off Midoriya is oppressive. Shōta has no idea how the boy can stand wearing his sweatshirt.
"How many reps do you do?" He asks. Midoriya looks at him over his shoulder before averting his eyes again.
"Ten thousand of each." Midoriya says, getting into a stretch and reaching far past what a normal person would consider comfortable. Shōta tries to process that and fails. He tugs his capture weapon off and hangs it from his belt, then unzips the half-length of his uniform and lets some of the heat bleed off his chest.
He knows that people can do ridiculous things. There are quirkless fighting leagues more terrifying than the quirked ones and people who go thrill seeking despite all common logic. Records of people surpassing limits and avoiding death with nothing but a needle-thin pass-fail chance.
When they first started talking about the S-class bullshit, Monitor brought up a video of All Might and Midoriya fighting at nearly full strength. Shōta hadn't been sold, despite the evidence. Then Midoriya went and caused a sonic boom at ground level using two fingers, tearing a new hole in the athletics field just to make a point. Monitor released the boy's record to the teachers at Nezu's request but reading it and seeing it are two very different things.
Watching All Might deflate for the first time didn't give Shōta this much whiplash. The reality is that heroes get hurt. Reality isn't supposed to accept people who do things like Midoriya does.
Something in Shōta's gut heats up when he remembers the boy's failed mediation.
"You do this every morning, Midoriya?"
"Almost, sensei. I take a day off every once in a while…" Midoriya twists backward, keeping a perfect split as he bends his spine in a full half circle to talk to Shōta. A tiny piece of Shōta's manhood shudders as he imagines holding a vertical full split while your torso hangs perpendicular to the ground. Somehow that doesn't seem physically possible. According to the grades he had at his last school, Midoriya definitely knows whether it's physically possible or not. He just doesn't care about physically possible. "We measured once, and even with two and a half weeks of taking it easy, my muscles won't deteriorate."
Shōta hums as the boy sets a hand on the metal and rolls his split to the other leg. The remainder of Shōta's manhood dies as the boy's hand pulls back to his core and remains there.
"Are you alright, Midoriya?"
"Yes sensei. I'm sorry, am I being rude? I can move if you'd like…"
"No, Midoriya. I'm asking because you were trying to meditate. If I interrupted…"
"You didn't." Midoriya breaks in. Shōta expects more. The boy doesn't offer. For a moment Shōta considers leaving it there. He can talk to Kurobayashi or All Might if he's really curious about the boy's mental state. Shit, he can just go to the boy's mother. But Shōta has never liked talking to other people about a particular person's mentality. Other people tend to get things… skewed. Not wrong, or out of shape, and usually not too far off the mark. Just skewed.
Teenagers are especially tough. Shōta's issues back in high school are the main reason he became a teacher in the first place.
Shōta thinks of everything he knows. Midoriya spent a full year as an Anomaly, but before that he was just a kid. A quirkless kid. He seems bright enough, but there's a strong aversion to showing off or drawing attention to himself. They haven't talked much… mostly because Shōta prefers to keep the number of chaotic influences in his life close to zero when possible.
One thing that sticks out to Shōta is the way Midoriya treats 1-A. Despite the fact that they're 18 of the best heroic's students in the country, Midoriya handles them like little kids. When he talks, he talks like a teacher or a friend, but there's an obvious difference between Midoriya and the rest. Bakugō and Togata were thrown in to push Midoriya's limits, but Midoriya hadn't tried at all.
Even All Might never treated people with gloves this thick. It would be insulting if the kid wasn't so nice about it. Shōta knows that his students feel the same way, but no one is willing to comment on it.
He's looking at a teenager who's lost all sense of normal and been dragged into the best hero school in the country for the sake of the greater good. Nothing about Midoriya says he wants to be here. There's nowhere else to put him, especially since…
"Midoriya," The boy blinks up at Shōta from what may have been a yoga position. In Midoriya's hands it's torture. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"
"No sensei." Midoriya replies evenly. Shōta raises an eyebrow. The boy loses the following staring contest.
"Are you going to try and claim not sleeping is a part of the Anomaly business?"
"…Not anymore."
"You tried, problem child. Have you…" Shōta knows the boy is smart, but he's also capable of teleporting. Using gentle words has never been Shōta's strong suit, sadly. "…tried talking to someone about it?"
"I've got a robot on the brink of taking over global communications in my ear, Aizawa-sensei. There's not much to talk about."
"You think heroes don't get help?"
"I know you're required to see a therapist after bloody confrontation." Midoriya flips onto his feet and pulls some more human stretches out of his book of tricks. "I know that you've all seen things I can't even imagine."
"You just think you're different." Shōta means it for a breath. Midoriya looks back at him and arches an eyebrow, subtly reminding Shōta that yes, Midoriya is the definition of different and he's probably the first definition of Nezu's 'Anomaly' and that he makes All Might look like a paper doll without even trying.
"No, sensei, I don't. Just quirkless." Midoriya almost laughs. If Shōta wasn't busy trying to play therapist to a teenaged god, he'd kick himself.
"Look, kid, I'm not going to claim I understand your situation, but you should give it some thought. You're still young. Don't get jaded early on."
"You're, what, thirty?"
"And?" Shōta is surprised Midoriya knows him that well. He forgets who, exactly, but remembers someone mentioning that the boy was a hero profiler. After a moment, Midoriya relaxes and stares off into the pre-dawn sky looming over the cyberscape.
"Hey, sensei… What do you think age is?"
"How many years we've been on the planet, I suppose. Though I'd argue that you can gain years after enough time on the job." Shōta sighs.
"You know how many seconds there are in a year?" Midoriya sighs. Shōta doesn't bother answering, so the boy does it for him. "Thirty-one million five hundred and forty thousand seconds."
"In case you forgot, Midoriya, I teach homeroom. Not math. That was a very personal decision."
"There's not much math, honestly. You know what an order of magnitude is. If we're talking millions, you have microns on the other end of the spectrum. Then you have nanoseconds, picoseconds, femtoseconds, attoseconds…" Midoriya slides his hands into his pockets and turns his eyes to the metal under their feet. "If age is based on perception then I'm pretty much the oldest object on the planet."
Shōta's expression twists as he tries to make sense of that. It has to be a joke. Midoriya doesn't sound like he's joking.
"I don't think time works like that, kid."
"Me either. It's not like I can put those kinds of numbers on my records." Midoriya laughs mirthlessly. "It's just… boring. Nothing happens lately."
"Saying that is begging for trouble, Midoriya. You want inner peace? Learn how to enjoy peace when you have it. Don't worry about tomorrow. There's always another maniac. We just have to make sure everyone gets another tomorrow."
"That's pretty poetic, Aizawa-sensei."
"Keep it between us. My image is carefully maintained."
"You… you're a cryptid. People call you caterpillar-sensei."
"Did I stutter, Midoriya?"
"N-no, sensei."
"We understand each other, then," Shōta stalks towards the boy and lays a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment. "I'm going to make sure your classmate didn't rig this testing site to blow up. Go get ready for class."
"The bomb is the other way, sensei." Midoriya calls. Shōta hesitates, then wheels and fixes Midoriya with a neutral expression that probably borders on a glare. The boy shrugs, obviously fighting a smile, before he disappears from view entirely.
Midoriya is right in the end. There isn't much math involved. A few logical assumptions and some… less than logical assumptions. Hero work has more of those than Shōta would like, though, so this is nothing new. By the time he starts heading off in the direction of Hatsume's bomb he has a half-baked plan to fix Midoriya's attitude and start dismantling his students' frustrations.
First, he needs to call Nezu about bomb disposal, then take a nap. It's entirely too early for this bullshit.