Flare Signal
chapter thirty-five

Kacchan kept Izuku grounded. Even here, after you thought you had gotten help, after it was all over or almost over, Izuku still found himself scared. He was hidden in the thick trees but thought he could still feel Chimera's eyes on him.

It was like he'd spent years carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and finally someone eased the burden a little. But that didn't mean it was over. It was far from over.

The second day of the training camp, Eraserhead had them working on their Quirks, just like Kacchan had guessed.

Izuku was paired with Tiger. He hadn't expected an easy fight at all, but Tiger's reactions were terrifyingly fast. It was like fighting Gran Torino again, except… less Gran Torino.

Things weren't going well, though. Izuku's moves were sloppy, as Tiger was unafraid to point out. He was distracted. He kept looking over; unlike most of the class had believed, Eraserhead hadn't sent Mineta home. Izuku didn't know what Eraserhead had been thinking, but Mineta was now running laps in the distant hills. At least, Izuku reasoned, he was far away from any of the girls. Iida was running, too, pushing his engines as far as they could go.

At some point after being clocked Izuku asked for a break and then went to find Eraserhead.

"Can I join Iida?"

Eraserhead raised his eyebrows.

"I want to work on my stamina and my speed," Izuku said breathlessly, which wasn't a lie. "With my Quirk spread out across my body—Full Cowl. I think it'd work better."

Eraserhead grunted, but didn't seem surprised. "Fine."

Izuku bowed. He headed in the direction of the hills, One for All sparking, and raced upwards. In minutes he had joined Mineta.

"Run with me," Izuku said, leaving no room for discussion. Mineta did, and they set off.

Mineta kept shooting Izuku nervous glances, but Izuku kept going. He said nothing, staying with an easy pace the same as he would any other morning. Mineta had to work hard to keep up.

When they were far enough away from the others did Izuku slow.

Mineta followed his lead.

"Tough," he gasped, "tough workout, Akatani. You're—"

"Mineta," Izuku said, stopping.

Mineta stopped, too. He looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot as he wrung his hands. He was looking at Izuku like Izuku was someone to be scared of.

"You want to be a hero, right?"

"Well, yeah," Mineta blurted.

Izuku pinned him with a look. "Why?"

"W.. why? I—"

Izuku was already shaking his head. "Not why you want to be a hero, Mineta. I wanted to know… I wanted to know why you did what you did. The other night."

Mineta sucked in a breath. For a moment it seemed he had no answer. He snapped his mouth shut, and his speechlessness made Izuku upset. It made him feel a lot of things, actually. Upset, angry. A well of disappointment seemed to open up beneath him, and Izuku didn't understand why he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

"I thought you…" Izuku said, but he didn't know how to finish speaking. He folded his hands over each other. "I thought you were— better than that, Mineta."

"Look, man," Mineta squeaked, "I…"

Izuku started to jog again. Mineta kept pace, staying one step behind. Izuku could feel him at his back, insistent. When the camp sprawled back into view, Izuku stopped again.

"Everyone here wants to be a hero," Izuku said as Mineta caught his breath. He gestured out at their fellow students, training hard. Fire and light danced across the sky. The ground shook. Each person was working on their Quirks, refining themselves into someone better and stronger.

"...yeah?"

"I think… anyone can be a hero," Izuku confessed, "but that's the thing. I think, Mineta, you could be a hero. So could I. Whether or not we would be good heroes is… it's up to us."

He paused. Izuku could see Kacchan, head tipped back, hands raised as explosions burst from his palms.

"I know I can't— make you do anything. And I'm not… I don't want to pretend to be perfect, either, but I think what you did was wrong. I'm not sure if it means anything to you, but you lost a lot of respect and trust." Izuku swallowed. He kept his eyes on Kacchan, always on Kacchan, but he could see Mineta just at the edge of his vision.

Izuku clamped a hand on Mineta's shoulder, pressing down. Then he lifted it and began a slow jog down the slope to rejoin the rest of the heroes-in-training.

He stopped and looked back. Mineta was standing still, watching him go.

"Mineta," Izuku called. Mineta's head jerked. "If you want to be a hero… you're going to have to find something that you really want. Something that you'd fight for. Because if you don't— I think in the end, it doesn't matter what your Quirk is or how successful you are, because you're going to be left behind."

Izuku swallowed. He couldn't quite breathe, but when he looked back down the hill he could take in air again.

"Akatani?"

Izuku paused.

"What… are you fighting for?"

Izuku kept his gaze on a distant figure, eyes locked. He reached up absentmindedly, touching his chest. "A lot of things."

He didn't know if he felt better, tracking down the hill. Eraserhead lifted his head just slightly when Izuku returned, acknowledging him with cool eyes. Tiger had finished fighting with a few other students, so Izuku went for a few rounds before drifting back in Eraserhead's direction.

Eraserhead's eye twitched.

"Aren't you meant to be training?" He flicked his fingers when Izuku didn't move. "Hm. Problem child."

Izuku dawdled a bit. "Training's almost over though, isn't it?" He inclined his head. "We've been at it for a while."

Eraserhead's mouth twitched. "Looking for a way out, huh?"

"Eraserhead," Izuku grumbled.

Eraserhead glanced up the hill. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I dunno," Izuku said. He rubbed his arm. "I'm— not sure I feel any better, really. But I don't know what more I could've done."

Eraserhead grunted. "It's not all up to you, kid. I'm the teacher here."

"You don't let us forget it," Izuku sighed. Eraserhead patted his shoulder, then went to call everyone to stop for the day.

They gathered outside the lodge, where it was announced from that point on they'd be in charge of making their own food. Iida immediately corralled them into different stations to make curry. Izuku was delegated to chopping vegetables and did so happily, falling into the repetitive motion.

Todoroki slipped up next to him, carrying firewood.

"I saw you leave to go run," Todoroki commented.

Izuku squinted at him. He went through another carrot, then said, "Yeah. I'm okay with running, but I'd like to build up using my Quirk while I do it."

"That's not why you went, though."

"That's not why I went," Izuku agreed.

"You think he should still be here?"

"That's not my call to make," Izuku said. He finished slicing all of the carrot and gathered it, setting his knife down before he glanced at Todoroki. "Why… why are you looking at me like that?"

Todoroki was watching Izuku pensively. His fingers trailed along a notch in the wood.

"You like to do that, don't you?"

"Huh?"

Todoroki smiled. "Get into other people's business."

"Well, well— I…"

Todoroki huffed out a laugh. Izuku liked it. "Just be careful, Akatani."

"Yeah," Izuku said, reaching for the mushrooms. "Though… I'm not sure these days if anything is working."

Todoroki cocked his head. "You got through to me."

"Yeah?"

Todoroki nodded. "You know… I admire that you want to help people. But you didn't get through to me just by talking, you know that?"

Izuku sliced the mushrooms methodically, thoughtfully.

"Sometimes actions speak louder than words," Todoroki said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but that was when Iida caught them standing together. Todoroki's nose wrinkled slightly as he was scolded for going off-duty, bidding a quick goodbye. Izuku laughed as he went.

Dinner that night was delicious. It certainly wasn't the best curry Izuku had ever had—no, Aunt Mitsuki's was pretty good—but it was delicious, and warm. And there was something nice about the way they'd made it together.

Mineta was seated at the corner of the table. The others had left him a wide berth, but Izuku figured that was also because he was near where the teachers were sitting, enjoying their own meal. Izuku ran a calculating gaze along the members, counting students, then realized there was someone missing. He caught the flash of something red and spotted who he was looking for—Kouta, amongst the trees, disappearing quickly.

Izuku excused himself, hurriedly getting another bowl of curry before following. Luckily Kouta was smaller and so slower, so it was easy for Izuku to catch up and track his path. He followed him through the trees and in a pathway before they reached a cliffside.

"Hey, kid," Izuku called.

Kouta turned sharply. His arms moved in towards his chest when he spotted who had followed him.

"Leave."

"I brought you curry," Izuku said, unfazed by the way Kouta was glaring daggers at him. He'd seen a lot scarier.

Izuku set down the extra bowl, still warm, then took a step back.

"Get out!" Kouta shouted. "I don't want to talk to you!"

Izuku held. Just a little bit longer, and then he would leave Kouta alone like he wanted.

"You don't have to," Izuku said, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. About your parents. I know it's hard when people don't come back—"

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," Kouta snapped.

"I do," Izuku said. And his heart hurt, and hurt, and hurt. When he looked at Kouta he thought he saw himself, or maybe Kacchan, what Kacchan would have been like. Ten years old and aching at a loss. Fighting something that couldn't be fought.

"It wasn't fair for them to leave you," Izuku said softly when Kouta didn't say anything, "but please understand… they were heroes. And they did what they thought was right, not because they wanted to leave you but because they knew you were worth fighting for."

"Dying for," Kouta said, and Izuku didn't have anything to say to that.

Actions, Todoroki had told him. But Izuku had run out of them.

"You should eat the curry before it goes cold," Izuku murmured. He took a step back and held up his hands. "I won't tell anyone about this place, I promise."

"Your word," Kouta scoffed at his back, and Izuku carried his troubles back into the forest.

Most of his classmates were still eating dinner when Izuku came back. Eraserhead tracked him with a gaze but didn't say anything as Izuku headed back towards the main lodge. He went to his duffle bag, shuffling in it until he found a piece of paper. Then he sat down on his bedroll, staring at the paper until the words came to him.

When the letter was finished Izuku sealed it quickly and then sat for a while, feeling empty. He suddenly and desperately wanted to see Toshinori, wanted to be told that it was going to be alright.

Boots clomped on the lodge floor. Izuku glanced up and met the surprised eyes of Kacchan.

"What are you doing here?"

Izuku huffed. He slid the letter into his bag. "None of your business, Bakugou."

The words came out shaky. Kacchan's brow crinkled. He glanced back at the door, but no one was coming; it was just them.

"Hell are you moping about now?"

"Nothing."

Izuku could never admit that sometimes he looked at Kacchan and was filled with fear. That Kacchan had forgotten about him, or stopped caring. Or that when Izuku told him, if Izuku told him, that Kacchan would snap, sharp teeth glinting.

His greatest fear, though, had always been that Kacchan wouldn't want him back.

"Well, snap out of it," Kacchan said. He retrieved a deck of cards from his things. "I'm going to go crush everyone in cards."

"Yeah," Izuku said flatly. He pressed his shaking hands together. "Bakugou, wait—"

Kacchan stopped at the door, the darkness around him.

"Never… nevermind," Izuku choked out. "May- maybe I'll.. I'll come beat you in cards later."

Kacchan looked unconvinced, but he smirked. "You couldn't."

Then he left Izuku alone.

"Stupid," Izuku whispered. He lifted a hand and then brought it down hard on the floor. "Stupid, stupid."

Something fluttered out from his bedroll. Izuku stopped, sure it was just a piece of trash, then realized it was a small scrap of paper with writing on it.

With a start he realized he recognized the handwriting.

Silver, then gold, she'd written. Silver than gold. Don't come back.

A chill ran up Izuku's spine. He didn't understand.

"Silver, then gold," Izuku whispered. He turned the words over in his head. Izuku looked at the paper, memorizing the informa. Then he stood, the world tilting as he nearly lost his balance, and strode out of the lodge.

Most everyone had gathered in a loose ring around a large bonfire. Izuku spotted Todoroki first, speaking quietly with Yaoyorozu on the outskirts. The two of them were holding marshmallows, though funnily enough Todoroki held his over a small fire on his fingertips. Kacchan had gathered quite a group and was playing cards like he'd intended, though from the look on his face he wasn't, well, winning. Aoyama was circling around the group peeking at everyone's cards. Izuku was tempted to join them as Kaminari whooped loudly in victory, raising his hands as the rest of the group groaned.

Uraraka and Iida, who were sitting on the side chatting, spotted him and waved. Izuku smiled weakly at them and lifted a hand in response, but didn't move.

Later, he mouthed, and Uraraka smiled and nodded, gesturing at an empty spot. Izuku rubbed at his eyes. He was looking for Eraserhead.

He passed close to the bonfire, the heat nearly unbearable. Izuku bore it anyway; he knew the heat of fire well. Izuku was careful as he passed, hand flicking out to the side. The paper fluttered but fell in, disappearing in seconds, eaten by the flames. Izuku stared at the spot the paper had been for a moment, then continued forward.

He finally found a ring of teachers not too far from the main bonfire, keeping watch. Not all of them were there; it looked like Tiger and Mandalay were missing. Vlad King was there telling stories to a mostly-captivated audience. A round of laughter burst out. Eraserhead had holed himself up in his sleeping bag, but it looked like he was listening, too. His gaze flickered from Vlad King to Izuku when Izuku approached.

"Hey, kitten!" Ragdoll called. Her smile was lazy, eyes soft. Izuku nodded shyly but shuffled over to stand over Eraserhead.

"Can I talk to you," Izuku whispered. "Privately."

Eraserhead blinked blearily up at him, but a moment later there was a zipping sound as he moved free of his sleeping bag. Izuku picked at his fingernails. Eraserhead nodded to the others, hand resting gently on Izuku's shoulder. They walked a few paces away towards the line of trees, getting farther from the fire. After a hesitant moment Eraserhead sat down, crossing his legs loosely over each other. Izuku followed.

"—Mineta?"

Izuku was staring at the ground when Eraserhead spoke. He jerked his head up, staring, lost.

Eraserhead repeated what he'd said. "Is this about Mineta?"

It took Izuku a second to process the question. "No— no. no. It's… not. But I did talk to him today." Izuku turned his gaze to the bonfire, where even Mineta was sitting by himself, looking pensive. Every now and then he would glance to the rest of the students, then look away quickly.

"You always involve yourself in things, hm."

"Is it wrong to?" Izuku asked. He cocked his head. "I just… need to. I know one of these days it might turn out badly or I might try to help someone when I shouldn't. But All Might—"

And he couldn't finish. His throat constricted, and Izuku looked back down at the ground again. He picked a blade of grass and began to methodically tear it into long, thin strips under Eraserhead's watch.

Start from the roots.

Eraserhead studied him. "No," he said finally, "it's not... wrong. It's what heroes do."

"That's what All Might told me," Izuku said longingly, "when we first met."

The desire to see All Might came back, pulling full force. Izuku knew that they thought it was safer for All Might to stay away, at least for the training camp—everyone knew that the League wanted him dead, now. It would have been selfish to want All Might here to wipe his tears, to hold him. It was selfish.

Better that All Might stayed away. Izuku bit down hard on the inside of his cheek until it felt raw.

"Did he," Eraserhead prompted.

"Yeah," Izuku said. "Eraserhead..."

When would Izuku stop being scared? When would Izuku stop feeling like a coward, his tail tucked between his legs? When would Izuku stop running, and running, and running?

"I..."

But Izuku dropped his face to his hands. He couldn't do it. He almost stood up and left then, but Izuku knew he couldn't do that, either.

"Can I," Izuku said, but he choked on the words.

"Akatani?"

Izuku refused to look at him. Eraserhead was going to have a look on his face, but Izuku didn't know if it was going to be pity or disappointment or frustration. Anger, even. Izuku didn't want to see it.

Izuku swallowed. He could feel himself starting to shake—it was always the hands, first, always the fingers trembling. He held them tightly together so he would stop. His heart had begun to beat so quickly Izuku feared even Eraserhead could hear it.

"Is there a problem?" Eraserhead asked, when Izuku couldn't figure out how to speak.

"Eraserhead," Izuku whispered, then faltered. "I... I'm sorry."

Eraserhead reached toward, hand in Izuku's sight, and gently turned Izuku's face so they were looking at each other. Eraserhead's face looked almost blank, but Izuku spotted the crease between his brows.

"What are you apologizing for?" Eraserhead sighed. "You haven't done anything wrong, kid. You're a problem child and you break your bones more times than I like, but you haven't done anything wrong."

"No," Izuku said, "no, no."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to run away, but running away would make Izuku even more of a coward. He had to be brave. He had to, because Izuku felt like everything he'd been holding in was now piling up—it was like trying to hold back the entire ocean with a wall, and sooner or later one of these days it would break. Izuku wanted to take the wall down himself, brick by brick. He'd built it, after all.

"Akatani—"

The bracelet on Izuku's wrist burned. Izuku twisted it around, letting his fingers move of their own accord.

Then Izuku said, "It's my fault, Eraserhead."

Eraserhead's fingers tightened. "What's your fault?"

"All of it. All of it. It was me, it was all me— I..."

"Akatani, stop. Look at me, Akatani—"

"That's not my name!"

Finally they both stopped. Izuku was panting, breathing hard. He'd cut into the air between them with a knife sharper than any physical one. Eraserhead had recoiled—instinct, Izuku thought. He'd moved away from Izuku.

"I don't understand."

"That's not my name," Izuku said dully. "My name is—"

And he hadn't said it himself. Not in a long time, but he thought of Silver and thought, be brave.

"My name is Midoriya," he said, "my mom named me Izuku. It's not a name you'd probably recognize, but I think the one you would know is Mirage."

Time slowed, then crawled to a stop. Around them the sounds of the night disappeared and faded into a soft buzz. Eraserhead went still. He still had a hand to Izuku's face, still tilting Izuku towards him, but now he had frozen.

"You…," Eraserhead said weakly.

Izuku brought his hand up. He glanced back so that no one would see, then set the illusion of fire around it. The flames danced along his fingertips, then twisted into smoke and disappeared. Not before Izuku caught the firelight in Eraserhead's eyes, though, and not before Eraserhead saw Izuku the way he'd first seen him.

"Illusions," Izuku said, because it was the easiest part to say. He tapped his chin, felt his Quirk rippling outwards as he changed his own features; then it disappeared again, even though the face that was left behind still wasn't quite right. He cleared his throat. "It's easier to hide when you can make stuff out of nothing."

Eraserhead found words again.

"This whole time," he said, "it was— it was you."

Izuku smiled bitterly.

"It was me."

"I thought," Eraserhead began, but the words had rough edges to them. "I thought... God, it was you."

"I've been—working with the League," Izuku admitted. He hadn't told Detective Tsukauchi that in so many words, but now he had to say it. "The incident at USJ... you were hurt— when we, when Shigaraki... it was all me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't want it. I never wanted it. I'm sorry."

"Akatani," Eraserhead, then stopped. "Midoriya."

That was when Izuku started crying.

No one had called him Midoriya in years—at least, not anyone outside of Chimera or the League. Hearing his name again was like breaking through the surface of the ocean, like all the sound had stopped being distant and muffled and started being clear.

He curled around his knees, crying into his hands, and repeated, "I want to go home."

"Midoriya," Eraserhead said gently. His hands appeared, blurry in Izuku's vision, but Izuku reached out. "Midoriya, it's going to be okay. It's going to get better. Will you listen to me?"

"Yes," Izuku gasped.

Eraserhead settled his hands on both of Izuku's shoulders to look him in the face. "It's not your fault."

"It is."

Eraserhead shook him a little. "It's not your fault. You're here now. Okay?"

"Okay."

"You're not alone anymore," Eraserhead told him.

"I don't want to be a villain anymore," Izuku murmured. Eraserhead gripped his shoulders tightly, enough that it was starting to hurt, but Izuku didn't want him to let go. He looked Izuku in the eye.

"You were never a villain," Eraserhead said, "and you will never be. You understand that?"

Izuku put a hand to his chest, feeling himself breathe.

"You said before you would help me," Izuku said hoarsely, "please, Eraserhead. Help me."