Honestly, I wasn't going to give Izuku a stand, then I read the comments and thought about it, and decided that yeah a stand would be cool but I'm doing it my way, you know, putting my own spin on it. I edited that last chapter for whatever mistake I could catch, nothing major. Would have posted this earlier but something came up.

Also to the guest...too dark? In a jojo fic? Really?

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I don't own MHA/BnHA nor do I own JJBA


His hands stung as his mother disinfected it with hydrogen peroxide on cotton swab while constantly saying how worried she is with tears spraying out of her eyes. Izuku felt guilty and constantly apologised. But his mind though….

He was drawn towards that look the stranger gave him, that hatred.

When Bakugo glared or expressed his dislike towards Izuku, it was always because of who Izuku was, a quirkless individual. At least Izuku was sure that was part of the reason. Izuku was never really sure why Bakugo hated him but being quirkless was definitely apart of it.

With the stranger however…

"Did you even try?"

Everything he said, Izuku couldn't refute it. He was correct no matter how you looked at it. Izuku, for all his talk, for all his dreams of being a hero, of saving people with a smile on his face, he never actually put an effort into that dream.

Notes and drawings? It wasn't particularly hard, just time consuming. Granted the stranger did praise him for it, but then again it's not like he'll be saving a life by pointing at a villain's powers and habits or how a certain hero does one thing could be applied to something else. Well...at least it didn't work with the Sludge Villain.

If All Might and the stranger hadn't been there then….

"Do you even know my name?"

That made Izuku feel a bit guilty. He just asked a guy to train him and he never even bothered to ask for a name.

"Be careful please!" His mother begged with tears in her eyes as she finished putting bandages on Izuku's hands.

"Sorry mom, I will. I...I just wanted to climb something."

"Was it that important, dear?"

"Honestly? I have no idea." The first lesson, Izuku was confused. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to learn or why he was sort of tricked into climbing a cliff or what exactly he was supposed to prove by getting to the top in five minutes. That he had flexible thinking? Is lesson one supposed to teach him to have a flexible mind? Or was it really a test at al-

"Izu, dear, your muttering again."

"Ah. Sorry. I..."

"Izuku, please, no more climbing for a while, please?"

"...Alright, mom, sorry to worry you," Izuku said while casting his head down.

"I...I know that you want to..." his mother let a sigh out of her nose, "never mind. Just be safe dear."

Izuku just nodded and shuffled to his room, he was sure his mother was watching him. Pity, sadness, maybe a bit of disgust? Who knows. He knew what his mother was going to say, at least the idea. Izuku never made it a secret that he wants to go to U.A. and the fact that he hasn't thought of any other prospect just added to the pile of his mother's worries.

Izuku locked the door behind him. He turned the light on in his room and dumped his backpack on his bed while he sat down at the foot of his bed. After a moment or two he unzipped his backpack and pulled out the steel ball. It was heavy, he expected that, but he was still able to move it with one hand, albeit with a bit of effort. As his finger traced the engraving marks on it he could feel how worn the ball really was.

The stranger told him to keep the ball, at least until sunday but...

"What exactly...do I have to do?" Izuku wondered out loud as he tried to spin the ball in his hand but found that it almost fell off. "Wah!" he had to use his other hand in order to not drop it.

He sighed. He had the ball, might as well try to do some research.


It was the afternoon of the next day, Izuku was at the junk littered beach while his mother took his tattered uniform to a friend of hers to get it fixed. He wore a turquoise tracksuit with white stripes

He tried researching everything he could from "steel ball" all the way to "spinning the ball." He found some odds and ends but nothing what he was looking for. There were small steel bearing balls and meditation balls you rotate in the palm of your hands, there were a few sports listed that he wasn't familiar with, petanque (french sport) being the only one he could find with steel balls of a similar or exact size of the steel ball he has. He had also found different tricks to spin a ball for it go a certain way for sports like baseball or cricket or some obscure game he was pretty sure wasn't popular in japan.

So finding nothing else to do, he just went ahead and played around with the steel ball.

On closer inspection, you could find scratches on the ball, signs of it being used, but it was remarkably durable. That said, it was still a loaner so he was doing his best to make sure he didn't dent it or something. He wasn't really sure if you had to grab it a certain way or if the engravings were just the stranger's personal test in decor. In the end he decided that as long as the steel ball didn't get damaged he could try anyway he could think of.

He walked to a good spot where there was long enough stretch of sand, in between two mounds of trash, visible from the stairs that led to the littered beach and got to one end.

Seeing nothing else to do, no real answer or solution present, Izuku decided to do the one thing he could. He simply took the ball, felt it's weight for a bit, pulled his arm back and threw it!

It sunk into the sand half a couple of feet behind him.

He sighed and sagged his head before he turned around to go pick it up. He glanced at the steps. No one was there to see his misstep. He was alone at the trash littered beach.

He looked back at the steel ball. He picked up the ball and tried again.


He was sweating.

He wiped his face with his forearm, finding it did little to dry his forehead, already damp from repeated use and perspiration from his strained arms.

His breath was ragged. His arms felt heavy and would twitch every so often. Whenever his arm got tired he'd switch to the next one, then when they both felt tired, he just went with whatever he could move without too much trouble and swapped when he did have trouble.

Izuku's face was practically lathered in sweat, said substance trickling down his face by the second. Not for the first time, he considered that wearing the his current attire was a bad idea. Already he's had to make a few trips to the vending machines to refresh himself and he was out of cash, his current choice in clothes only helped to seal the heat in and he was feeling every bit of it.

He moved to pick up the ball he threw earlier, not really caring about the distance, his abdomen a bit sore from constantly crouching and twisting he did when he threw the steel ball.

Another mistake of his was just to walk around with the steel ball in hand and some loose change in his pocket. A bag with a few water bottles from home would be a cheaper alternative and he can just put the ball in the bag and carry it over his shoulder. Plus he wouldn't have to worry about juggling the ball with the litter he created by the drinks he bought at the vending machine.

And that's what he did, he juggled a bunch of items in his hands, the litter to dispose of properly and the steel ball because he didn't want someone to steal it. A bit of useless chore considering he was pretty much in a garbage heap, but his reasoning was that there was no point in making it worse.

He looked up at the stairs to where the railings were and found that it was still empty. His shoulders sagged a bit.

The entire time he trained he would glance up to see if the stranger showed up. He never did.

Izuku sighed and continued with the current task ahead of him.

Unbeknownst to Izuku, the stranger himself was standing at the other side of the right mound of trash. He was seemingly staring into blank space with a stoic look while sipping on a beer bottle with enough condensation on the glass to tell it was cold. He moved his left hand out just as his steel ball rushed up to meet the palm. He grasped it, stowed it, sipped his beer, and proceeded to walk away.


Izuku gasped for air after he drank a large glass of water in one instance. He quickly refilled his glass and walked to his room.

He collapsed on his chair, opened his laptop, pressed a few random keys for it to boot up.

[PASSWORD] : * * * * * * * *

Izuku quickly typed it in:[LΛMLIGHT]»

The screen quickly booted up to a bunch of tabs he had on his browser, all related to his search the night before.

He sighed.

He had thrown the steel ball at a distance he knew was pathetic and he still had more than half a day left. It was barely noon. He sighed and let his head fall on the desk.

"Did you even try?"

Again, those words simply won't leave his head.

He took a deep breath before he prompted himself up and looked up another video at his usual streaming site. He typed in his search and queued up videos about the Magnus Effect and centrifugal force...


The day had been long and boring.

He had gone out and back three times, the last time being the shortest of the three. And each time he returned home he was caked in sweat (moist and dried in certain areas).

The blisters on his hands found company with a couple extra additions, oddly enough. He found that he had to keep some of the cuts on his hand, from the day before, moistened in order to let the scabbed skin stretch, otherwise the skin would tighten and the cuts would tear and extend every time he flexed his hand and never fully heal.

He had just taken a shower, debated popping a few blisters, and placed bandaids on his hands.

He walked out of his room, his messy hair still moist, and clad in All Might pajamas.

"OH! Izu-dear, look at this!" His mother exclaimed in excitement. She was at the couch watching T.V., said item being the only source of light in the room.

"Hm?" Izuku walked over and sat next to his mother.

"Oh! Oh! Look-look-look!" she said as she pointed at the screen. It was some broadcast about dancing.

Izuku leaned a bit forward as his mother squealed at the dancers. It was some formal event and the men and women wore fancy clothing. Men wore suits that matched their partner's dress color, which was vibrant and flashy.

"The way they're dancing…" he muttered to himself.

Right now the dancers, he eye-bawled around ten or twelve couples, were doing what he assumed was the waltz. They danced in a circle, the dance itself did not seem or appear to be rushed but it wasn't lacking energy either. It was well rehearsed, everyone danced in circle. Moving clockwise while slowly spinning, the couples kept in synch with each other despite moving at what seemed like their own pace.

"Yeah it was more like that," he continued. Earlier when he was spinning the ball he knew he was doing it wrong. It might have been the right way for whatever sport it was intended for, but it wasn't the way the stranger did it when he spun the balls. They both spun furiously, though Izuku's spinning balls might actually have been slower, but the stranger's spin had a certain grace to it. "Like a slow dancer," Izuku muttered.

"Kyaaaaa, isn't it romantic!" His mother swooned with both hands on her cheek as she blushed, no doubt imagining Izuku's father dancing with her.

"Mm," Izuku let out, unaware of what his mother had said. He was mainly focused on how the dancer spun around each other.

The dance lasted another two minutes before the dances changed with another group of much younger people who did some sort of breakdance. It was energetic but it wasn't what he was looking for.

He kissed his mother goodnight and went to sleep, eager to try make the ball spin like the stranger did early in the morning.


He ended up sleeping in. The last two days just caught up with his body. His arms felt sore and heavy, for sure but, his abdomen and chest also felt sore.

He honestly felt like staying in bed that day, but…

"Did you even try?"

Those words got him out of bed. It was a question that cut deep but it kept bothering him as much as the elusive first lesson does. He thought about it a lot but he never actually figured out what the lesson was or why that phrase bothered him more than the obvious.

He sighed as he filled bottles with water, both the ones he had at home and the ones he was forced to buy, again, on his third trip to the beach yesterday. This time his goal was to have a bag full of water and just stick around until he ran out and was forced to go home. Bathroom wasn't that big of an issue. There were a couple of shops nearby that had bathrooms he could use, provided he bought something.

After filling his last bottle he debated looking for an old beach bag or simply use his schoolbag. In the end he decided he was late as it was and that searching for beach bag would make a mess and take up time.

So he decided to walk to his room carrying as much water bottles as he could, realising partway that he could have had an easier time bringing an empty bag to the bottles, and dumped everything in his hands on his bed.

He neatly took everything out of his bag in order to not make a mess and to make it easier to put back in.

"Oh crap," Izuku let out, realizing that he had forgotten to do his homework. He panicked for a bit, debated doing it then and there or doing it when he got back home. Unable to choose, he decided to skim what he had to do, hoping the facts would help him.

"On one hand homework," he muttered opening one notebook to skim, "on the other hand today is the last-ah-right today is the last day," he deadpanned to himself.

He could always do his homework when he got home, cut into his sleep time, or just miss the homework entirely. It would reflect badly on him, but he had only so much time to prove himself to the stranger. However he had to.

He sighed at that.

"Mm?" he noticed his notebook. The one with All Might signature in it. His hand approached it without thinking but he quickly pulled it back as if it was some sort of wild animal that was hissing or something.

He finally grabbed the cover and opened it, slowly moving to the two pages that held All Might large signature.

He should be angry, he should be sad, he should feel depression, he should feel something that would cause him to just take the entire thing and put it in a grinder or burn it over a sink to wash away the ashes. But he couldn't find it in himself to do it. All Might's signature filled him with a complicated blend of emotions, for sure, but not one of them were malicious or held him responsible. To be honest, a small part of him swelled with pride and joy that he had an unsullied sig-

Izuku blinked.

His eyes became akin to that of a fish. "Eh?" Beneath All Might's signature, at the bottom of the page, was some sort of sentence written in a small size. "EEEEEEEEH! MY SIGNATURE!" he wailed out loud. "Who would do this!" he wondered out loud with tears leaking out the corners of his eyes. Then he realised something. "Wait a minute..." his bag, he left it alone with the stranger, who admitted he rummaged through it, including his notes. "Di-did he do this? But why?"

The sentence wasn't japanese, and while the letter's looked roman, he could tell that it wasn't English. He booted up his laptop and typed it in as best he could. Turns out it was Italian. Roughly it translated as: "a wheel or disk mounted so that it can spin rapidly about an axis that is itself free to alter in direction."

"A Gyroscope," Izuku muttered from reading the translation. "But why did he write this in here?" He whined as he tried to think of a reason or some meaning behind it. "No wait, why didn't he use a different page!" He had tears in his eyes.

In the end, he sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere like this. He would have to ask the stranger the next time he saw him.

Izuku looked at the steel ball lying on his desk. He nodded to himself.

He couldn't stick around in his room all day.


"N-not good," Izuku said to himself with a huff.

He had thrown the ball again and he did not get the results he was looking for. It was the second trip to the junk littered beach for the day and it showed.

"Like, like a slow dancer," he reminded himself as he picked the ball up while huffing. After a minute, he adjusted his body and tried to mimic a baseball pitch he saw on online when researching how to spin balls, and pitched the ball.

The movement ended up being unsurprisingly awkward. He did, however, manage to get the ball spinning horizontally, but…

"Not it," he huffed as he walked to go pick it up while wiping sweat away from his forehead.

He felt he got better at throwing the steel ball, still pretty weak especially with the way his arms were feeling, but he was making progress. The problem was that the ball was not spinning correctly.

His arms were already sore and heavy from the past couples of days and despite that he kept pushing his body as hard as he could but it still wasn't enough.

Despite it all he continued to throw the ball as many times as he could.

He didn't memorize the time he met the stranger or even the time he climbed the cliff, he just had a rough estimate, and he was reaching that estimate soon.

He was still at the same spot he was at the day before, the area he walked with the stranger to the cliff was a narrow path, odds are he would probably throw the steel ball in the sea by accident or scratch it on the wall or something. He wore the same clothes as the day before, forgetting how he got hot in them and he drank most of his water.

He kept doing everything he could think of to make the ball spin gracefully. He actually succeeded in making it appear gracefully but he knew that it was the right type.

It was almost time and he was dreading it. Feeling that there was no point in delaying it he downed the last of his water walked to the

He walked to the area where he had climbed and found no one there. He couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Had the time passed or had the stranger simply given him a useless chunk of metal and ditched him?

All his reservations, frustrations, fears, and dark imaginations, everything started to surface. He was briefly paralysed by it all.

When he was able to catch his breath, he moved to the wall of the cliff and sat down, not bothering to take his bag empty bottles off.

He watched the waves roar back and forth.

He closed his eyes, feeling sweat trickle down his sockets, he breathed slowly and calmed down. He wiped the sweat away and opened his eyes.

"You want to learn right? Then pass my first lesson."

Izuku looked up to the top of the cliff.

"Hm? What're you looking at me for? I ain't helping you! Get going!"

Izuku's eye's widened.

"Don't pin your hopes on me." The stranger had said it three times!

He looked down at his chest. He could still remember it, the way his body felt after he was struck with the ball. The way the ball forced his muscle to tense and contract...

"Did you even try?" Izuku repeated to himself as he took the steel ball out of his bag, tossing said bag aside afterwards. Even after Izuku said he quirkless not once did that the stranger say to give up. It wasn't about being a hero. The stranger made it very clear, he honestly didn't care if Izuku wanted to be a hero. His entire concern was with his effort.

"Did you even try...to spin it?" Izuku said to himself, a little more sure of the question now. "He wouldn't have given me the ball otherwise. Was he angry that...that I asked him without even trying to do it myself first?"

Somehow it was making more and more sense when he thought about it, or maybe that was the dehydration talking.

"But why did he want me to climb...what did that-" Izuku shook his head. He didn't need his thoughts to wander. He was close he was sure of it. He looked at the ball and moved it to where that Stranger hit him, on the chest. "The way the ball moved," he tried to mimic the path it took with the ball, having to use both hands. "He...he killed people before right? A ball this heavy and he easily manipulated it...why did he throw it down and curve it upward? How did it even curve upward? My body...it honestly felt like it was moving on it's own and it hurt, but...I'm sure there was an easier way to inflict pain without putting in too much effort. It...it must've been a clue!" He reseasoned. "The ball, even though it had hit, it should have lost momentum, but it spun despite that. Whatever kept it spinning, I can't do it with the movements I saw online. The way my muscled moved when the ball hit me, yes, I'm sure that's it!"

He went through it again in his head, the specific muscles that moved against his will. With the ball gently resting on top of his hands he began imitating what he felt that time the ball hit him. It was both weird and difficult, moving all the different muscles at the same time, some required others muscles to work. But he could feel it, something moving through his body! It was painful, not because of how sore he was, the force it was like he was straining to create a trapped firecracker with nowhere to go!

"M-maybe," he strained as he muttered, closing his eyes, "maybe I need to direct it, make it flow in a certain sequence..." He tried the idea after a few practices moving the muscles as best as he could, some of it felt really awkward. After he was confident in his abilities, he had them expand and contract in a sequence that would start away from his hands and end there, it was almost as if he was guiding a force there.

Izuku felt something, he opened his eyes to see the ball in his hands slightly shaking despite not moving his hands. He was at a loss for a moment. His eyes were wide open by the time he realised he needed to breathe, his body had stopped moving, the ball following soon after.

Given the encouragement he needed, he took a deep breath and redoubled his efforts.

It was tough, his body was heating up and sweat was trickling out without much restraint, and the ball was barely moving but it had started to slowly revolve counterclockwise!

He took a small breather and started digging through his bag sitting beside him for water, remembering that he had finished all of it but held out hope that he forgot one bottle or something. He was able to find a bottle with a bit of water in it, about a sip's worth. He sucked it down, stuffed everything back in his bag and went back to the ball.

It wasn't working, he was sure he was in the right direction since the ball was moving without him actually forcing it to move with his hands, but he was doing something wrong and he didn't know what.

With a huff he took a breather. It really wasn't easy. Since he was using more muscles than just his the ones on his arm, his body was heating up pretty fast and it took a lot more energy.

He tried again but he still wasn't making progress. Frustrated, he accidentally tried to grasp the ball by closing his hand-it was as if someone had pushed him! He yelped as he was forced to his side, the ball almost leaving his hands. Whether it was instincts, reflex, or simply luck is unknown, but Izuku managed to keep the ball in right hand as he fell down.

"Ow," he groaned, but he froze, he turned to look at his hand, the steel ball...was spinning clockwise! It wasn't the spin he was looking for but he didn't force it to spin either. It wasn't particularly fast but it wasn't slow either.

...how, his thoughts began, why is it spinning now? That...that force that went through my hands, were they working against each other? That could explain why it's spinning now, just one force acting on it-

He had tried to move his hand to help him get a better look at the ball, but the simple act caused him to lose his balance and fall forward, flat on his stomach. He groaned as he rolled himself over to his left. With his back on the ground and his front facing the sky he slowly moved his head to glance at the ball in his right hand, it had stopped rotating.

He rested his head back on the ground.

His arms were tired, he was covered and sweat and thirsty, the movements he did earlier heated up his body so he was still sweating profusely and huffing, he honestly didn't have in him to get up. Still, he was close! So close to spinning the ball the same way the stranger did, he couldn't give up! Sadly, his arms felt too wobbly and he didn't think he could move the muscles. Still, he attempted anyway.

He generated the forced and guided it to the ball in his right hand, but it did not go the way he expected. The balls started moving, but he didn't have control of it. It took everything he had in his right hand at that moment to not let the ball slip out of his hand. While he succeeded in not letting the ball escape, the ball did somehow end up travelling down his arm and to his chest. Fearing he was going to lose the ball, he angled his body, sucked in his gut to create a depression for the steel ball to follow.

With the ball nestled on top of his stomach, he took shallow breaths through his nose and thought about what went wrong.

One direction, I was just sending it one direction, whatever it was I did, I wasn't trying to spin it. Izuku concluded. But...how do I spin it?

He barely had control over whatever it was that he did that made the ball move, how could he possibly make it spin.

"You got two good legs, use 'em while you can."

My legs, Izuku struggled to glance down. Right, it was just a hint, of course, he wouldn't tell me directly. Izuku tested it for a bit using what he could think of it to generate whatever force he could in his legs. It took a while until he could feel that firecracker feeling. Izuku got a faint idea on he was going to force the ball to spin. from his arms and legs he would generate whatever that force was in a way that would allow the ball to spin, hopefully that would work.

He took a deep breath and held it in. Please work, a wish straight from his heart. He opened his eyes again.

one...

Two...

THREE!

He started generating the force in his body, trying to concentrate it around his stomach! It was painful and tough but he could feel it. He could feel the ball moving! he chanced a glance and saw it spinning. He gritted his teeth and kept it at it. He kept making the ball spin until he pushed his gut out. After he did so, the ball took off into the air!

Izuku felt as if the world around him had disappeared as he focused on the ball.

"...like a slow dancer," he muttered, mesmerised by how the ball seemed to sail upward while slowly revolving in such a graceful manner. As Izuku stared, he couldn't help but feel like everything around him was moving slow. it was like reality had decided to give Izuku his own little corner to enjoy himself. After what felt like an eternity, he noticed something. He looked passed the ball and atop the cliff a figure down on him. He couldn't get a good look at the figure. It was blurry and the light in sky blinded him even further. But the figure looked human enough, was tall, colorful, almost looking like it was made of layers like paper or feathers. The figure outstretched it's right arm towards him, beckoning him to take its hands despite the distance.

Izuku focused back on the ball. It was still revolving but it was no falling down.

Have to catch it, he told himself out of instinct. If that ball landed it was going to hurt. But he could barely move his arms...he tried to move his right hand, but it was slow and shaky, it wouldn't make it in time!

Then out of nowhere and hand appeared coming up and snatching the ball. The world seemed to clear itself as the waves signalled the flow of time correcting itself.

"Nyo ho~"

Izuku looked back a bit and saw the stranger peering down at him with a smile that displayed his upper set of teeth. He wore beige pants and a purple t-shirt with grey circles as decorations this time.

"Well now," he began as he crouched down, ball in hand and his arms resting on his thighs, "I didn't actually think you could do it, but you showed me something nice~"

Izuku didn't say anything, not trusting himself to say the right thing. But he could help how he felt, tears leaked out the corner of his eyes as he smiled, "I-" he began, "I. I spun...the ball."

"Yeah, you did, kid." With his free hand he poked Izuku on the forehead. "That was some real good effort."

"...Les...lesson...o-one..."

"Down for the count," the stranger said, smiling down on him. "...say kid...what's my name?"

Izuku...didn't know how he had come to the conclusion or if he had put any thought into it at all. He could have just been guessing but he didn't really care. Right or wrong factored no way into this. He said the one word that came to his mind.

"Gyro," Izuku answered as best he could. Gyro smile widened.

Lesson 1...on hindsight I should have realised it sooner. "Don't pin your hopes on me..." Don't pin your hopes on anyone. It was my dream, from the very beginning, I should have been the one putting the effort into it. Teachers, parents, strangers, encouraging as they could be, I had to be the one to do it. Taking the first step didn't mean much if in the end you needed someone else to push you all the way. I guess the entire time I was waiting for a hero, someone to rid everything that was wrong and tell me it was all going to be okay. So I stood right where I was, moving only when I was forced to while every sped right passed me, the gap growing wider with each breath I took as I peered at their backs. I was scared...even now, I still am scared... This isn't a story about how I became a hero...it's about how I was finally able to push myself forward despite my fears of what the future held in store for me. This is the story about making my own place in the world, not as a hero, but as myself.


Author's note:

C'mon, Gyro would do that to All Might's signature, lol.

Um quick note, if Izuku tried to do what Gyro did to Bakugo, he would be able to pin him but Bakugo would still be able to use his quirk. Gyro tailored that throw to Bakugo so that it would stop him from using his quirk.

Not much is actually known about how you actually perform spin, in the manga Johnny spins a cork without actually moving his hands so my guess is that it's not just throwing the ball it's moving it with the force generated by the muscles in his body, at least more than just the ones in his arm.

In here I went with if a quote from an old stargate/xcom fic I like, the exact words escape me but "if you see that someone else can do it, your not far from doing it yourself," as part of lesson one.

I think I gave enough hints as to what song the stand would be inspired by. Yes, sorry, Johnny is Johnny, and Izuku is Izuku.

Well night!