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X. Four Walls
—
Nine months after his disappearance, the general public presumed the Temporal Hero Rishi dead. Being so young and blissfully unaware, I didn't pay mind to such canards, but then came the conspiracy theories about how he quit on his own volition to become a Villain. I started to discern the drones of condolences coalescing into cursory whispers accusing death or treason or worse. Murmurs escalated to conversations about him and his family, and the things the public said started to make sense.
Rishi left behind a wife and a daughter, they said, and I, almost five, realized that he left behind his wife and me. According to gossip mongers, my widowed mother spiraled from the grief, and by the time I realized I couldn't escape the rumors, they showed up on every newspaper, every television screen, every block on the street with enough people to carry conversations: Rishi this, Kamino that, and their unnamed daughter somewhere in the cracks.
Higuchi Reiko was a nobody.
And I didn't mind. I liked being invisible more than I did the mere thought of strangers knowing I was the daughter of two beloved Heroes. The public cemented my parents as the most puissant pair in recent history, and their story was one for the books. Literally, in fact, as the surreptitious details of my father's case remained need-to-know and still, to this day, locked in the archives. I wasn't even a character, at least, not until it was too late.
It made sense to keep a child out of the spotlight for as long as possible. I always thought it was their way of protecting me, anonymity and the opportunity to live a normal life serving as my father's last wish and final gift. Regardless of my evanescing memories of him and the strained relationship I had with my mother, I appreciated the gesture, treasured it even, but—
Why is there always a but?
I was six when I figured out I had been kept under the radar not for my safety, but because my mother didn't want to claim me until she deemed me worthy. Her crimson eyes mirrored my own as she waited to tell the world I was her daughter in the only way she knew how. I had to prove it, as if I needed to earn the right to call myself her child.
It was patronizing and infuriating and terrifying all at once. The rumors about her became harder to ignore once they gave me a reason to excuse her actions, or maybe they gave her an excuse to justify hers, that she acted cruel because she had all but unraveled. Believing them meant believing my father was dead or a Villain, and in both cases, never coming back.
Looking at her now, perched on a railing directly below the prompter about to reveal the first matchup of the third round, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of resentment. I didn't grow up with a desire to be the Number One Hero. Sometimes I still wondered if I wanted that even today, but now I had friends I wanted to protect, teachers I wanted to learn from, people I wanted to save. They kept me grounded, and I just happened to hang around them long enough to stumble upon some semblance of a dream.
I wanted to be my best self.
And I was ready to sacrifice the privacy we so vehemently protected all of these years to do that. These people would know me not as Rishi and Kamino's daughter or by whatever title she wanted me to have. People would know me by my name, which was, at the moment, the only thing anyone saw as it appeared in big, bold letters across the monitor.
It was followed by another name that only impelled me to make this battle even more worthwhile. Upon seeing them side by side, the entire stadium roared with applause.
Higuchi Reiko
vs.
Midoriya Izuku
"Here it is, folks!" Present Mic trilled. "The first battle of the final round will be between Higuchi Reiko and Midoriya Izuku!"
A million and one thoughts zipped through my mind. I tried to register what had just happened whilst simultaneously contemplating my next step, but I could only be certain of two things at the moment: Deku was hiding something, something being his Quirk, and this time I was in on the secret.
To keep me and the rest of the world from finding out the truth, Deku would have to hold back or go all out in an attempt to end things quickly. It wouldn't have been a fair fight either way, especially since overexerting himself to the same degree he usually did guaranteed a forfeit for the second battle whether or not he won ours.
The guilt that came with that knowledge settled in my stomach uncomfortably. I would've been a total hypocrite confronting him about it after making such a point to convince myself I wouldn't, but he deserved the truth more than I did. The least I could do was tell him that I knew.
My attention shifted from the screen to the wide-eyed boy standing at the opposite end of the line. He caught my gaze instantly, green complementing red as he attempted a shy smile, somewhat uneasy withal. I returned the gesture as genuinely as I could because he deserved that, too.
"Right off the bat, huh?" Bakugou said, scoffing from beside me. "Better not take it easy on him just because you found out about his dirty little secret."
"I'm going to tell him I know."
"What?"
"Maybe you should actually get your hearing checked," I suggested sportively, spinning on my heel toward the exit.
It might've been a bit brazen of me to expect him to follow, but he did, much to my consciously concealed bemusement. My nerves started to sober as the reality of us discussing a conspiracy theory we crafted out of hearsay and half-hearted observations finally sank in. Bakugou and I were gossiping. I really was a hypocrite.
"Fuck you, first of all," Bakugou said, blunt as ever. "It doesn't matter what you say to him if you don't fucking win."
"You want me to win?"
"I want Deku to lose."
"That's definitely different."
"I'm not the creep who keeps prying!"
"You're the one who told me about it!"
"Because I thought it was a shitty lie!" Bakugou all but shouted, throwing his hands above his head. "This is the dumbest fucking conversation I've ever had."
As much as I appreciated talking to him about concerns that I literally couldn't discuss with anyone else, I could feel the number of stares on us steadily rise and knew that seeing me and the blond together probably raised a few brows. I dialed down my voice to indoor settings and, not so much that he blew a proper fuse, nudged Bakugou on his side.
"Don't do anything stupid while I'm not there to roll my eyes at you," I said, unable to hide my grin when his middle finger sprung up in my direction.
Bakugou rolled his eyes for good measure, giving me a dry look before making his way inside. "Don't do anything dumb or I'll blow you the fuck up myself."
"You think everything I do is dumb."
"Did I fucking stutter?"
Despite his brashness, I found myself smiling as I stared at his retreating back. Bakugou probably thought of strategies against all of the remaining competitors. His refusal to acknowledge Deku as the winner even in a hypothetical scenario meant that I had to consider he had a plan carefully catered to me, and as if I didn't have enough to worry about, I knew I had to do the same.
Todoroki suddenly appeared beside me, his steps easily falling into rhythm with my own. He didn't say anything at first, but the way he kept peering at me from his peripheral said enough.
"I'm fine," I said.
"I didn't say anything."
"I bet you're thinking it."
"You're a mind reader now?"
"I'm saying you're pretty good at reading mine," I admitted, perhaps a little too honestly. "Three Quirks doesn't sound fair, though. I'll take it you're just absurdly good at reading people in general."
"No," Todoroki said. "Just you."
If it had been Kaminari or Mineta, I might've considered that line a painful attempt at flirting, but this was Todoroki, and Todoroki didn't flirt. The indisputable concern in his eyes more often than not meticulously masked by his ever present shield of indifference surfaced, clear and cutting and curious.
"I'll tell you about it later," I said, hesitating even further when All Might rounded the corner.
In all seriousness, I was anxious to talk to Deku about his Quirk and his relation to All Might, if he chose to elaborate on it. I wanted to tell Todoroki about the situation, but that wasn't a conversation I needed to have with him. Though I had become quite accustomed to our usual banter, raillery and all, keeping a secret like this from him almost felt like a betrayal.
Todoroki noticed my trepidation and saw my gaze locked on the Pro Hero now speaking with Deku in hushed tones. I expected him to say something, maybe nod his head, but it looked like he still had ways of surprising me.
"Here," Todoroki said, holding out a closed fist.
"What?"
"Take it."
His fingers ghosted mine as I felt him drop something into my palm, and like a broken clock, I marveled at the warmth, and then at the object he gave me, blinking rapidly in genuine surprise.
"I asked Yaoyorozu to make one earlier," Todoroki said, shrugging. "Thought it would help you get into character."
The warmth I felt no longer came from a tangible source. Heat dispersed beneath the expanse of my skin, an unfamiliar yet not unpleasant light flickering in my chest. I clutched the elastic band, a vibrant violet that dazzled beneath the sun, and breathed out a real laugh.
"Thank you, Todoroki."
The month before my sixth birthday sort of felt like a roller coaster. I wasn't really expecting to celebrate since I ended up at home alone both birthdays prior, but unbeknownst to me, I would be having a party for the first time in years. Kan-oji insisted on canceling all of his plans, official Hero business or not, and I thought nothing of it because that was just the sort of thing he would do.
My mother was done brooding and thought to introduce me to the world on my most important day. The public was ready to meet Rishi and Kamino's daughter, a spitting image of her parents in beauty and spirit. It would be grandiose in every which way, but in all truthfulness, baking cookies in our kitchen would've been more than enough to satisfy me, even if they sometimes came out terrible.
The festivities would take place in our home, and the head planner was, of course, my mother. I saw her around the house more often than I was used to in recent months, but because it had been so long, I didn't notice how distant she was with me. I paid no mind to the exasperated exhales and stiff smiles, feeling elated to simply be in her presence.
"Look, Mama!"
At almost sixteen, I was trained to be poised and pristine, but at almost six, I skipped and tripped and twirled like I didn't have a care in the world. Maybe I didn't, and maybe it was that way of thinking that made me turn out to be the opposite.
"Please cease with the cartwheels, Reiko," my mother said, arms folded tightly across her chest. "I don't need the floors scuffed up when the guests arrive."
"But I'm wearing the socks you gave me."
"And you're getting them dirty."
"Sorry, Mama," I mumbled.
My mother sighed, shaking her head. "Go change into your outfit and stay in your room until dinner starts."
I trudged up the stairs, all the while staring at my white lace socks. The bottoms of my feet had gotten a bit dusty, but I thought they looked pretty still, like the kind of stuff a princess would wear. The dress waiting in my room was even prettier, a periwinkle gown embroidered with stars, or perhaps starfish in homage to my Quirk and hometown of Kanagawa.
"Why, hello there, Miss Reiko!"
I whirled around to see a young woman casually leaning against the doorway to my room. Her teal hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall and a buoyant smile surfaced on her face when I launched myself into her arms, tackling her into a cozy hug.
"Emi!"
In the present day, Fukukado Emi was a Pro Hero and teacher at Ketsubutsu High School, but along with Kan-oji, I knew her first and foremost as one of my father's juniors and dearest friends. Emi was eighteen at the time, freshly graduated from high school and taking up a part time job as my babysitter. I didn't see her nearly as much as Kan-oji, but in hindsight, I probably spent more time with her than my own mom.
"It's been a long time, kiddo," Emi said, her arms coiling around my shoulders.
I tugged on her shirt and she crouched down, allowing me to sit on her knee. "Are you here for my birthday party?"
"Of course," she grinned, tickling my sides. I squirmed in her grasp, struggling to muffle my squeals. "Need any help getting ready?"
"Yes, please!"
I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward my vanity where a plethora of ribbons and handmade flower crowns lay strewn across the table. Emi lifted a pink bow and teasingly dangled it over my head, brushing stray baby hairs from my forehead.
"How's this?" Emi asked.
My nose wrinkled. "It doesn't match my dress."
"Good thing you take after your mom in the fashion department," she snorted, discarding the bow to the side. Her eyes found the dress hanging outside of my closet. "Blue, huh? Not surprised."
"It's pretty," I said, tracing the sleeves with a light finger.
"It'll be even prettier once you wear it," Emi sang, removing it off the hanger. "Now, come on, our birthday girl can't be late to her own soirée!"
Punctuality came much easier to me at an age where older people kept track of everything I did. Thanks to Emi, I was dressed and hopping downstairs in ten minutes tops, hair and clothes coordinated to a perfect tee.
"Thank you for the dress, Mama!" I beamed, twirling in front of her.
"It looks lovely," my mother said, tucking a flyaway behind my ear. "I hope it at least lasts until dinner without something spilling on it."
Emi frowned, shaking her head. "You're always so hard on her—"
"Are you telling me how to raise my daughter?" my mother asked, a beautiful smile tugging at her cheeks.
I watched the interaction unfold with eyes much too wary for a child. Emi had a Quirk that made people laugh, but she was more than capable of doing so without it. I always saw her smiling the same way I had grown accustomed to seeing my mother with pursed lips or a disapproving frown. The exchange of expressions on their faces, not to mention the fact that it was because of me, was disconcerting.
"I'm sorry," I blurted. "I'll wait in my room."
I didn't think about how sprinting up the stairs while wearing a frock that grazed the floor was probably not the best idea until I stumbled on the last step. I gasped and clutched onto the railing to keep from falling, but my dress got caught on something in the process, causing a small tear on the bottom seam.
"Reiko."
My heart dropped.
The month leading up to the party was one I couldn't forget. So much happened and having my mother physically present throughout the whole thing was a luxury I forgot I used to have.
The party itself remained in the back of my mind for as long as I could keep it there, not so much because I considered it a bad memory, but because I didn't have many memories of it at all. I should've known as much when Kan-oji and Emi came up to my room with a cake and six candles.
"This is the best birthday ever," I said.
It was the truth if only because I was so happy to spend it with two of my favorite people, but they knew as well as I did that it could've been better. Balloons and presents and strangers I had never seen before didn't matter to me. I just wanted my mother to call, and she never did.
"How long have you known?"
A simple question, but the voice that uttered it sounded so laden with a multitude of emotions that even I struggled to form a proper response. His fists rolled tightly at his sides and I sensed the spike in perspiration that further evidenced his escalating anxiety. Deku was scared and rightfully so, but it didn't appease my own nerves any knowing he was afraid because of me.
The two of us stood in the corridor outside my waiting room. I condensed all that I found out in the last hour into a few clumsy but straightforward sentences, and while he took the news better than I expected, he still looked about ready to pass out. Guilt clawed at me even more as he sucked in a bated breath so I chucked my own nerves out of the metaphorical window and leveled with his gaze.
"I only found out today," I said.
"Kacchan told you?"
"Sort of."
"And I told him," Deku recalled, his voice fading to a whisper. "Kacchan didn't believe me."
He took the liberty of sliding against the wall until he ensconced himself on the floor, knees pressed to his chest and his shoulders hunched forward. I sat down about a foot away.
"He didn't want to believe you," I murmured, thinking back to my conversation with the blond. "I'm sure he wouldn't have mentioned it to me if he thought there was any substance to it."
"Kacchan deserves to know more than anyone," Deku said, fervently swiping at his eyes with his knuckles. For a second, I thought he might've started crying, but he looked more exhausted than near tears. "I probably owe you an explanation now."
"You don't owe me at all," I refuted firmly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in contrast. Dark green eyes glanced at me, hopeful in such a way that almost made me regret bringing up the subject at all. "Don't tell me anything you're not ready to talk about yet, alright?"
"You're not mad?"
"I just told you I found out your biggest secret and you're asking me if I'm mad?"
"It sounds silly when you say it like that," Deku said, lips twitching into a small smile. "I should be thanking you."
"What for?"
"I think I've wanted to tell someone for awhile now, but so much of it isn't my secret to tell, and I promised All Might I wouldn't. Don't get me wrong," Deku paused, then sighed. "I'll always be grateful. It's just lonely sometimes."
My breath hitched.
It's just lonely sometimes.
I was so focused on the mystery surrounding his Quirk that I didn't really put much thought about the bundles of burdens that came with harboring such an important secret. It was under different circumstances, sure, but I knew that feeling all too well. As much as I disliked the truth behind it, I could admit that for the majority of my life, I benefitted from my own secret more than anyone else. Deku was on the other end of the spectrum, protecting someone else with one that wasn't even entirely his.
Both of us had a responsibility to stay silent and keeping people at a distance was a little isolating at times. I didn't doubt it was hard. All Might had priorities as a teacher and a Hero that he couldn't ignore just because he had an apprentice no one even knew he had, and as a result, Deku had to carry that loneliness with him wherever he went.
"Was Bakugou your first friend?"
The question spilled out of my mouth before I realized I spoke, which appeared to be turning into an apparent and unfortunate habit as of late. Deku didn't look startled. I waited for a simple yes or no, but I suppose his response made more sense in context with our current tête-à-tête.
"Kacchan was my only friend," he said with a wistful grin.
My first thought was that Deku wouldn't be the person sitting beside me if he and Bakugou never met, and I was almost embarrassed about it because I knew it was selfish. I didn't have the right to be relieved that his suffering worked out alright in the end.
What if it didn't?
I felt my chest tighten, but I wasn't sad or sorry. Maybe somewhere in between or somewhere off the grid entirely.
"Do you know who my first friend was?" I asked, tugging at the hem of my uniform. More nervous habits. "I met her on my very first day at Yūei."
"Her?"
"She asked me if I was in the class," I smiled a bit, thinking back to the first day of school only a handful of months ago. It felt like longer and like it was yesterday at the same time. "Of course I was in the class. I wore the uniform and tried to get inside the classroom. That's usually one of my pet peeves, you know, when people point out the obvious because they have nothing else to say."
Deku frowned, brows furrowed in confusion, and then all of a sudden his eyes widened in cognizance. "Uraraka-chan?"
"Yeah," I whispered like another secret. "I didn't think she and I would be friends. It seemed like it'd take a lot of work, and between you and me, I think sometimes it is, but when things get hard, I tend to give up too soon."
… when my father left, I stopped believing he would come back; when my mother became too distant, I stopped waiting around for her; when I was alone, I didn't bother making any friends.
"My friends at Yūei," I spoke louder, more certainly now. "Ochako and Yaoyorozu, Todoroki and even Bakugou, you, especially," Deku straightened. "Because of them, because of you, I'm starting to figure out what it means to put in a little fight for the things I care about."
There was a short silence, and then came a chuckle. It was small and somewhat weary yet so utterly pure. I turned to Deku with a questioning gaze, but the sight of his smile made it difficult to keep from grinning at him in return.
"I think I get what you mean," Deku said in the midst of his laughter. "I don't have to be lonely anymore, right?"
"Something like that."
He laughed again, louder and more certainly this time, akin to my previous statement. "I'm glad you're my opponent, Rei."
"You really need to do something about the whole losing a limb every time you use your Quirk thing, but we can save that talk for after."
"I don't lose limbs," Deku protested, ducking his head sheepishly.
Not yet was what I wanted to say, but I forced myself to swallow my cynicism. I could tell this fight meant a lot to both of us, and because of that, we deserved to face each other at our absolute best. Like I said, we could deal with the consequences later.
"Don't pull your punches then," I said, lightly nudging his shoulder. "Deal?"
His fringe swept over his eyes as he nodded and gave me another smile. He stood to leave, ready to meet me again on stage, but I reached for his sleeve and tugged gently. I had one more thing I wanted to say, one more thing I wanted him to hear.
"Deku?"
"Yes, Rei?"
"I won't tell anyone," I promised.
Deku nodded, beaming now. "I know you won't."
The first thing I realized about having Deku as my opponent was that blocking his attacks would be a pain in the neck and just about every other part of my body. I had gotten much better at extracting moisture from the air, but it still took quite a bit of time to do so in large amounts.
If I wasn't careful, he was more than capable of sending me out of bounds with a flick of his finger. My best bet was to make sure he didn't have a chance to use his Quirk in the first place by keeping him occupied with close range combat. I wasn't sure about his level of proficiency in hand-to-hand, but I'd much rather take a regular punch in the face than the alternative.
The students interspersed in watch boxes placed between the audience and a short distance away sat the rest of our class with the exception of an absent Iida. I filed the observation in the back of my mind and saved it for after our match, grinning at Yaoyorozu and a waving Ochako instead. I noticed the stares from everyone else as soon as I stepped onto the field, and they felt far less comforting than the smiles from my friends.
Kan-oji was easy to spot in the stands, his arms crossed and his canines glinting even from this far away. He grinned and nodded, and I interpreted that as good luck and kick some ass. The jitters smoothed into a numb sort of calm shortly after that.
Inevitably my gaze drifted back to my class, absentmindedly searching for a glimpse of red and white. Todoroki sat in the first seat of the first row, and though I couldn't read his expression from where I stood, the fact that he was here seemed to provide a sense of comfort I had been sorely missing.
"Welcome to the third round of the Sports Festival!" Kayama-sensei declared, waving a red flag above her head. "The match between Higuchi Reiko and Midoriya Izuku is about to commence!"
Deku stood across from me, his feet spread and hands in position. I knew exactly what he planned to do from that stance alone and decided that I had to move even faster than usual if I wanted to stop him from doing it.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
"Begin!"
Deku lifted his arm to charge an attack. I shot forward at twice the speed and forced his blood to twist his hand behind his back. He was too heavy for me to knock out of bounds this way, but the sudden movement took him by surprise, and I used that chance to impose a succession of kicks and punches.
He dodged, albeit ham-handedly, though he managed to avoid a direct hit. And another. And another. I was miffed and slightly confused at how well he evaded my strikes, but it worked to my advantage. Having worked up a sweat, I finally had liquid at my immediate disposal.
My next punch collected some of the perspiration from my palms and launched them from my knuckles like a set of trench knives. He ducked in time to miss my fist, but the blades, near invisible, were unavoidable. A slit appeared on the sleeve on his uniform even as he backed away, followed by a thin line of blood dripping down his skin.
With a flick of my wrist, his blood hardened into the solid bullets I had grown accustomed to evading myself. This time, however, I had them under my control, firing persistently at the boy still managing to dodge. His uniform, ripped in a number of places, showed that he couldn't avoid them all.
"Higuchi Reiko starts off with an unrelenting stream of attacks!" Present Mic reported. "Get it? Stream? Liquid manipulation?"
Aizawa-sensei paused for a moment, probably to roll his eyes, but then he made a comment that rumbled every single cog in my brain.
"Considering how many of those bullets Higuchi fired, Midoriya is doing a good job at evading."
I'd heard it from Kan-oji too many times before not to recognize that tone. Aizawa-sensei sounded significantly less enthusiastic about it, but I could tell he was impressed. Like, that's my kid and I raised him right kind of impressed.
"Who taught you how to move like this?" I asked abruptly, swinging my fist for the umpteenth time.
Deku let out an oof as he hit the ground. "I asked Aizawa-sensei last month to see if he could train me—"
"Aizawa-sensei? He can barely move himself!"
"We didn't get to do much, but I learned how to dodge pretty well," Deku winced as I nicked his other arm. "Uh, well, that's debatable."
No, it wasn't. Deku was doing a good job, and that only fired me up even more. Had he not trained under All Might and Eraserhead, I might've felt bad about using him as a human punch bag, but he did, so I didn't. I collected enough liquid for my ice daggers so I gripped one in each hand and bolted forward, driving him closer and closer to the outer rim with each swipe.
And then it happened.
I didn't realize I had been sneaking glances over at those railings until I looked up and saw that she wasn't there. Her back was to me as she stood readied by the exit, but at the last moment, she turned around. My breath caught in my lungs like a strangled sort of gasp when her crimson eyes met mine. It was nanoscale reaction that didn't make any sense, and I wanted to ask why she was leaving or why—
Why do I care?
The frustration I felt from not being able to land a hit on Deku in addition to the inexplicable emotions stirring as a result of my mother walking away started to spill over. I slashed his arm and Deku took the hit on purpose, using the second he could've spent dodging to bring his hand forward. In my distraction, I never even saw it coming. A formidable gust of wind knocked the breath out of my lungs and sent me flying back a few dozen feet.
"Midoriya finally initiates his counterattack! How will Higuchi retaliate?"
My arms shot up just in time for me to take hold of my own blood, slowing my momentum before stopping mere inches short of the line. Deku's index finger was various shades of purple, definitely broken, and definitely far away enough to expel another gale without any more distractions to stall him.
"Smash!" Deku shouted, pulling back his middle finger.
I hate being right.
He stood too far away for me to control, and if I took another few seconds to move closer, I'd only be diving straight into the line of fire. All I could do was collect enough moisture to freeze my legs down, stabbing my daggers into the dirt for further stability as the tempest tore through me.
"Higuchi Reiko takes a direct hit!" Present Mic gasped in tune with a chunk of the crowd.
I blinked the dust out of my eyes and looked up to find my opponent staring at me with furrowed brows, his lips curving into a frown. The expression didn't look right on his face, and for some reason, it didn't sit too well with me either.
"What are you doing?" Deku asked.
I frowned, brows raised. "Trying not to get blown to bits?"
"Exactly," Deku said, shaking his head. "You've been on the offensive this whole time, but none of that was meant to incapacitate me. I'd be out of bounds by now if it was and I know that because I've seen you do more damage than this in the past. It's like—"
"What?" I asked, an uneasy chill slithering up my spine. It was like someone dumped a bucket of cold water on my head and left it there with how I was so utterly blindsided by his spiel. "Like what?"
"Like," Deku pursed his lips. "You're not putting any effort into the actual fight."
"Excuse me?"
"You asked me who trained me in the middle of our fight. If you're really doing your best, how did I even have time to respond?"
"You're the one having a full conversation with me right now," I nearly snapped, feeling a sudden burst of irritation threaten to smother my initial shock and confusion.
"You're getting angry, right? Frustrated? Everything about you is about keeping in control—your emotions, your powers, every detail about every situation," Deku muttered, taking a step forward. "This is your chance to let go for once, but you're just retreating further into this shell!"
He stood there, not attacking, not bothering to defend, just talking to me with that same expression on his face. This was the first time someone ever called me out on it, and for once, I had no idea what to say.
Because I knew he was right.
I liked being in control because I didn't like not knowing what was going to happen next. There had been enough of that in my life with my not knowing what happened to my father, not knowing if he was even alive, not knowing if my mother was coming home today or tomorrow or next week. I grew up with so little answers to so many questions, and my way of coping with that was to think too much and too often so I could fill in the spaces myself. Letting go was never even an option.
"I have nothing to say to you," was all I could tell him, and the whispers started again as soon as I spoke.
Hearing strangers talk about me always felt like an outer body experience. I had no control over what they said or thought, and although they never imposed their opinions to my face, I was perfectly aware of them.
It was the same for those watching us in that dome. I felt like a fish in a tank, and their comments kept tapping at the glass. The same people who wanted to see me rise waited for the moment I crumbled, and in hindsight, I was afraid that I was only going to prove them right.
"Then just tell me this," Deku said. "We had a deal. If you can't hold that promise, how can I trust you to keep the other?"
Ouch.
That was a low blow, but I deserved it. I told him I wouldn't hold back, insisted to everyone including myself that I would do my best and expected them to do the same. The problem was that I didn't know where to go or how to get there, and I didn't like not knowing, or maybe I just didn't want to get lost in the first place. I settled by staying in the same spot, and I suppose that manifested in all of these half-truths and broken promises and a permanent seat in second place.
To be better than I was yesterday. I helped others believe in those words, but I did a terrible job of believing them myself. Instead of pushing my limits, I stopped short because what? I was afraid? Maybe I was. I wanted to be the very best version of myself, but what if this was the best version? Higuchi Reiko was a nobody, and as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was afraid that was all I was ever going to be.
I couldn't help but look over at the now empty spot by the railings. It dawned on me then that this fear was all consuming and I decided that my mother only made it worse. Even though I was angry at her, even though I wanted to show her I was doing fine without her, it still hurt to watch as she turned her back and left halfway during the match, and it took everything in me to admit that.
"Don't look at her."
What?
"It's lonely sometimes," Deku murmured, echoing his earlier statement. "But I'm here, right? I'm here, so don't look at her. Look at me!"
And because I couldn't bring myself to do anything else, I looked at him.
My hair was inconceivably tangled and I had a fair share of scratches of my own, but I was conscious and I was fine. Deku had two broken fingers and bled from multiple contusions and he stared at me like he thought I could be something more. It was that stare that had me staggering to my feet, a sudden wave of resolve sweeping over me as the truth to his words began to sink into my skin.
What am I doing?
Years of suppressing my issues started to take its toll and it became more and more obvious to me how ignoring that was detrimental to my mental health. I still found things about myself I was critical of and perhaps I would for a long time, but—and I had never been so happy about that but—for now, it was my move.
Don't look at her.
With a swiftness I was sure I was only capable of thanks to the adrenaline fueling my muscles, I broke free from the ice and stalked forward, breathing and feeling and seeing all of the moisture surrounding me. Whirls of color sailed through the clouds and the soil and the people, susurrate like the rumors I was once so accustomed to except now the whispers felt soothing and familiar.
I'm here.
Those whispers merged with the murmurs reigniting the crowd. I shut my eyes, but theirs stayed wide open as they watched the particles in the air thicken into a denser mist. The vapor quickly congregated into interminable whips that enveloped my arms while the fog unfurled and scattered until it engulfed the entire arena.
Look at me.
Look at me.
My eyes shot open.
I lashed out a whip and Deku narrowly jumped to the side, but I used the other as a lasso to grab him by the leg. Before I could throw him out of the ring, he charged a smash with his ring finger and aimed it at the ground, creating a fissure that caused me to stumble backwards and lose my grip.
Deku landed with a loud thud, but he scrambled to his feet and let fly another windstorm. I intercepted it with a tower of ice made from the water whips, and despite shattering in a matter of seconds, it acted as enough of a buffer to stifle the impact. A cocoon of liquid spun around my body, protecting me from debris as the smoke mixed with the fog and made it impossible to see.
Then came the glow, a string of lines that traveled from his knuckles all the way up to his shoulder. Another attack, but this time he used his whole, uninjured hand. He reared his arm and then pitched it forward and I could hardly see.
But the lines.
The lines were his veins, and I could see that.
I thrust my hands out, forcing his clenched hand to change direction. It wouldn't budge, and I couldn't tell if it was because he had already stockpiled his power into his fist that made it so difficult to carry, but I panicked, unable to grasp the blood that flowed through him.
"Don't pull your punches now!"
If I could've laughed, I would've, because Deku was seconds away from blasting me into oblivion and he was telling me not to hold my punches. I wasn't even trying for a punch. It was in those final moments did I realize maybe I should.
Curling my fingers together, I stopped trying to take hold of his blood, instead focusing on pushing and shoving it into shifting. My vision started to blur and the only thing keeping me upright was the adrenaline zipping through me, but finally, finally I felt his hand twitch.
"I don't break my promises," I said, hurling my fist upward just before the hurricane broke.
The squalls came full force and so wild that the turbulence rocked the coliseum, and then suddenly, it twisted into a tornado that tore into the clouds. It brought me to my knees, gasping for oxygen as the cyclone seemed to disrupt the atmosphere completely.
That was when I felt it.
My nerves prickled like pins and needles as if forewarning me about the first drop of water before it trickled down my cheek. The massive amount of wind pressure that occurred as a result of Deku's attack created an updraft.
It was about to rain.
I toddled to my feet despite my exhaustion and looked up to find Deku struggling to do the same, his entire left arm bruised and broken. He knew as well as I did that I was as strong as I was going to get with the storm about to hit, the same as I knew that his body was capable of one more smash at maximum power, even if it meant further damaging the fingers in his right hand.
This is where our fight ends.
Deku came to me this time, his left leg sparkling while his right arm lit up. As he pushed off the ground, unruly hair messier than ever, a crater formed at the soles of his feet. He soared through the field, his eyes blazing like a forest at sunset, and for a moment, I wondered if that meant mine looked like the sun.
And then the rain fell.
It felt as much like a gentle caress soothing my scrapes and bruises as it did a lullaby pacifying my tempestuous mind. I inhaled sharply, and the second I breathed out, the drizzle turned into a torrential downpour. There was water everywhere, so much so that by the time he was halfway to where I stood, the stadium was already flooded to my ankles.
You told me to look at you, but it was you who saw right through me.
Deku threw his punch.
It is lonely sometimes.
My hands slammed against the water.
I think I've wanted to tell someone that for a while now, too.
The last thing I remember before the nothingness was me, ripped apart by the wind, and him, drowning in the deluge.
The first thing I felt when I woke up was a pair of lips pressed firmly against the back of my hand. I knew it was Recovery Girl before I even opened my eyes if only because there was nothing particularly sentimental about the gesture. Then came the fatigue, a side effect of her Quirk. My whole body felt heavy, and despite having just regained consciousness, I already had trouble staying awake.
I had been to her office a handful of times, but this was the first instance where I actually needed medical attention that required her Quirk. It used the patient's stamina to speed up the healing process, and I figured I was so tired because I had been suffering from my usual overexhaustion on top of any tangible injuries I sustained from the fight.
"This is the best I can do for now," Recovery Girl said, her cane pattering against the tiles as she moved from my bedside. "Her wrist is still sprained and she doesn't have enough energy right now for me to fix it, but her vitals are doing better. I can get to work on it by the end of the day."
"That's a relief," I heard Deku exhale nearby.
"You, young man, are a different story," Recovery Girl said sternly. "This is the last time I'm going to heal any injuries like this, you hear?"
"W-What?"
"I don't want you to think you can keep this up just because I'm here to help fix everything. You're lucky you didn't inflict too much permanent damage to your hand!"
"I'm sorry," Deku mumbled. "I'm sorry, both of you."
I almost thought he meant to include me in the narrative, but then another voice, unfamiliar yet vaguely recognizable, answered.
"You wanted to help her," a man murmured. "It was very noble of you to do, Young Midoriya, but at the expense of your health, your body? I can't praise you for that."
Young Midoriya.
There was only one person who called him that.
"I know," Deku said, his voice trembling. "I know, but that woman in the stands… I don't even think she realized it, but Rei kept looking at her."
I felt my fingers twitch as I took in his words. He was right about this, too, that I didn't realize I stole glances at my mother throughout the match. I might've denied it if the disappointment in her eyes didn't keep replaying in my mind.
"Rei is one of the strongest people I've ever met. It's… she always knows what to do or say… she's good at that stuff, but… it's not because she's just better at it than everyone else. It's because she makes an effort to understand how people think and feel."
"I didn't even… I didn't think someone like her could have any problems since she was so good at helping others with theirs," Deku admitted, chuckling sadly. "I'm… a terrible friend, right? I didn't know. But when she was staring at that woman as she turned and left, the expression on her face… I've seen it before."
"It looked like she was calling out for help," Deku breathed out, and I felt my own breath hitch at the revelation. "I wanted to help her because… she looked so lonely… and someone like Rei… doesn't deserve to feel alone."
I felt the prickle under my skin enough times to know someone in the room started to produce tears. It was with a jolt of surprise and mortification did I belatedly realize that this someone was me.
"Deku?" I whispered, blinking away the drops of liquid in my eyes as my pupils adjusted to the fluorescent lights.
"Rei," he gasped. "Are you feeling—"
I turned to look at him and gasped at the sight. His cuts disappeared, but bandages swathed his torso and a sling cradled his right arm. I barely registered the fact that the two of us suddenly sat in the room, suspiciously alone.
"Why did you do that? Why did you do that?" I let out a humorless snort, incensed and indignant. "You're literally broken because of me."
"I'm not broken," Deku said, his tired eyes blazing once again. "I'm not. Do you remember our first day at Yūei? The day we took the apprehension test?"
I wanted to tell him no, idiot, don't change the subject now, but since he wouldn't let me speak otherwise, I reluctantly nodded in capitulation.
"Aizawa-sensei wanted to fail me."
"But he didn't—"
"I didn't know that," Deku said, furiously shaking his head. "You didn't know that, but you stood up for me, anyway. The next day, you said I looked nice in my uniform and told me I could call you Rei, and then you jumped in between me and Kacchan, saved us from that collapsing building—"
"Where are you going with this?" I asked, blinking even more as the tears kept threatening to spill and keep spilling.
Why am I crying?
"You nominated Iida-kun as Class Representative, encourage Uraraka-chan constantly, got Kacchan to laugh," Deku chuckled a little in disbelief himself. "You make Yaoyorozu-san smile and understand Todoroki-kun better than anyone! You even picked those people to be on your team even though one is from our rival class, one is someone you barely know, and one is someone you've never met before in your life!"
Why are you saying these things?
"You see the best and worst in people, but not once have I felt less than what I am, flaws and all, because you make me—us—feel like what we are, as we are is enough."
I…
"You're a good friend, Rei," Deku said, beaming now as he had during our conversation before our match. "I wouldn't have done anything differently if it means getting you to see that to me, to all of us, you're somebody important."
Somebody important…
The pins and needles came back again, except this time I could say for certain that it had nothing to do with my Quirk. For the umpteenth time, I was speechless, and truth be told I didn't know how to feel about it. Not knowing was one thing, but not knowing what to say when words happened to be the only thing I was good at was an aching reminder that sometimes words weren't enough.
"I'm about to cry, you know," I mumbled.
Deku blinked at me in bewilderment. "You've, um, been crying, Rei."
"Who's fault is that?"
"S-Sorry…!"
Deflect.
Deflect.
Deflect.
I mustered a smile, and the sudden shift in attitude seemed to catch him off guard, but his shoulders quickly relaxed at the sight of me looking somewhat okay.
"Thank you, Deku."
I wish I could believe you.
postscript
this probably marks the start of rei starting to unravel. if you haven't already noticed, she's sort of trapped in this cycle of wanting to be better and feeling like this is the best she can be. It's not that she doesn't appreciate what midoriya tried to do for her, in fact, it's the total opposite; she cries because she's so overwhelmed at how much he believes in her and how she wishes so desperately that she can believe in herself the same way.
good thing she has such great friends to depend on, you know, once she learns how to be a little more emotionally available! i think one of the most rewarding reviews to read is when people tell me how much they love rei's relationships with her friends be it todoroki or bakugou (an apparent fan favorite) or uraraka or kan-oji. definitely a lot of deku bonding here, but feel free to let me know who else you want to see rei interact with more! x is by far the most difficult chapter i've written to date so i'd love to hear what you all think. if you can guess what the hair tie alludes to—well i have nothing to give you but it'll probably make that scene all the more emotional when i say the song i had in mind the first time todoroki used his flames is the dragon boy ꒰⁎ᵉ̷͈ ॣ꒵ ॢᵉ̷͈⁎꒱໊
as always, thank you for reading!