U.A.'s midterms were only four days long.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how one looked at it, Izuku had to come back for a fifth day. Repeat the first exam that he missed on Monday.

He wasn't the only one, of course. A few others were there too, ready to take the exam. Among them were Shinso, Hagakure, Kaminari and two girls from 1-B whose names he didn't know.

All Might was their supervisor for the day. Coming after a long week like that, Izuku was just glad to be done about two and a half hours later. It was when he was stretching in his chair, trying to ignore the pain in his back from sitting around too much, that All Might called out to him.

"Young Midoriya," All Might said. He sounded better than the past week. The hollowness in his chest was still there, as was the tired edge that he spoke with, but he sounded better. "Could you follow me to the counsellor's office for a bit? I'd like to speak with you."

In a way, Izuku found that he sounded like a man on a mission.

Purpose given form.

Izuku nodded, following the man with a smile.

"Once upon a time, I had a teacher," All Might said. "She was… amazing. Beautiful, kind, and powerful. She was everything I am trying to live up to as a teacher, and yet I find myself falling short every time."

Izuku nodded. He understood, of course.

"She was murdered, in front of my eyes," All Might said. He sounded resigned, rather than bitter. The fury that Izuku would have expected did not come to taint his voice, but instead bubbled up in his chest until the man reached up to grab it. A part of the too large shirt was gathered under his balled fist. "By that man. All For One."

Izuku had assumed as much.

And yet, his mouth opened in a wordless gape. The words he was looking for were just nonexistent. There was nothing he could say that All Might hadn't already heard from someone else. No amount of 'I'm sorry for your loss' would help.

All Might continued, not waiting for Izuku to process all he was being told. The man's thin hand touched the bottom of his too large shirt and lifted it up slightly, revealing an ugly black and red scar, looking as fresh as the day it had first been stitched up.

The hollow sound in his chest suddenly makes sense.

"I fought him, out of revenge. I lost my cool, and I was injured due to it. While I had thought I was successful in killing him, he has proven himself to be as much of a cockroach as me."

All Might gave a humorless chuckle, lowering the shirt as Izuku's fists clenched over his cup of tea, leaving some of the steaming liquid to run down the cracks and burn his hands. Izuku could see his own eyes reflected in All Might's, glaring with a cold intensity that could have caused an ice age.

"I am not even half the hero I used to be," All Might said. "At this point, I can keep up the act for three or four hours a day. I cannot retire, I will not retire, until All For One is defeated. He is an evil that cannot be left to do what he pleases."

"I understand," Izuku said, his voice eerily calm. He put the cup back down on the table, grabbing a small paper towel and wiping the liquid off his lap and hands. "I feel the same way about my father."

All Might frowned. At least Izuku assumed it was a frown. In that emasculated form which looked ready to break apart, All Might was a lot less expressive than he used to be. "I was briefed, information has been slow, you understand the power plays of politics when it comes to the Hero Public Safety Committee, I imagine."

"Yes," Izuku said. He knew from Tenkai's drip of information that he wasn't hiding things intentionally, but rather had to maneuver through the intricacies of old men and women too attached to their power to let anything threaten it, even if it meant sacrificing people here and there. "Did Aizawa-sensei tell you the truth about Tokyo?"

"He did, though not immediately," All Might said. "I was disappointed in his decision, but I realize that I would be a hypocrite to say that you shouldn't have done so. The question you asked me afterwards, it was because of him, correct? The demon?"

Izuku nodded. "He was happy, at the end. I'm still trying to understand that smile."

"People are complicated, I imagine more so once you add something as mystical as demonization to the mix," All MIght concluded. "And as we speak of hypocrites, I too must ask you something that a teacher should not ask their student. Perhaps more so that I have already picked someone to take over for me once I am gone."

"Whatever you need," Izuku promised, perhaps too fast.

"You are a demon slayer," All Might said, his lips twitching downwards.

"I am," Izuku said. More so than he was a hero aspirant, more so than he was a student, and more so than he was a boyfriend, Izuku Midoriya, Kagura Ubuyashiki, was a Demon Slayer.

Perhaps the last true Demon Slayer this world knew.

"All For One will try to become a demon that surpasses the sun," All Might said. "We will try to stop him, but in the case he does succeed, I have to ask if you will join me."

Izuku blinked. Whatever request he had expected, this wasn't it. Just this once, All Might was not looking at him as a student, or a child. Just this once, someone he admired was stretching his hand out with a purpose that made Izuku's heart skip a beat.

Just this once, Izuku met the eyes of an idol as an equal, and he shook the man's thin hand with his gloved one.

"I will fight," Izuku promised. "And we will succeed."

There was no other option, was there?

The following week, Izuku was finally relaxing. The dorm concept for U.A. was still in the works, but once it was a part of the faculty he should be able to relax even more, hiding his mother and Eri with Nezuko somewhere else while he was taking care of business here.

Aizawa-sensei looked irritated, more so than usual. His eyes didn't linger on Izuku, however, but on Momo's empty seat.

"The exam results have come back, you can see them posted around lunch," Aizawa said. A small grin was on his face, looking as haggard as ever on his tired face. "You did well, even you, Kaminari."

"Oh come on," Kaminari said, standing up. "I tried my best, I even had Yaomomo's tutoring—"

"And she did a great job if someone like you didn't end up lower than the gen ed kids whose entire job is to study," Aizawa said. "That doesn't mean you get to slack off, I expect an even better performance next time, got it?"

"Yes, Aizawa-sensei," Kaminari said, falling back into his chair. The class laughed at his misfortune. Kirishima looked worried about his results, but stayed silent. Izuku imagined the worry about Momo and him had caused the class unnecessary grief, and while Uraraka and Iida were two of his closest friends, Kirishima was much more easily affected by such things.

For someone with such a hard exterior, he truly was the softy of class 1-A.

"Your results aside, I'd like to congratulate you on your successful internships," Aizawa continued. "You've all received sterling reviews, though there were a few kinks that we will have to iron out with you in regards to quirk use, excessive force and 'not running into a burning building with the excuse that you're fire resistant'."

Nobody reacted to the rather specific point, but Izuku could hear the heart of Todoroki beat slightly faster. Looking at him, Izuku could have sworn he saw a small blush rise on his cheeks. It seemed that Todoroki was slowly getting used to accepting that part of himself. He wondered how the rematch would look like at full power.

"Also, not fighting a fire-quirk emitter with a sword, Midoriya," Aizawa said. Izuku lowered his head as the laughs were aimed at him.

He couldn't say it was unfair criticism.

He could, however, say it was beating a dead horse. Aizawa wasn't the first person to complain about it, and he could have done so earlier than now. Maybe it was not a bad idea, though, to call him out in front of the class.

Izuku knew that some saw him as something of a measuring stick, so admitting to his own mistakes and being chewed out by them would help others see and accept that they didn't have to do everything perfectly from the get go.

"As I've told you before, we're welcoming another transfer student to class 1-A," Aizawa announced. The class went still and quiet, listening intently. "Hitoshi Shinso, who had been placed here as a probational hero candidate, has officially been made part of the class. However, we're still receiving a transfer student from class 1-B."

The class cheered at the news. Kirishima in particular, who had always worn his heart on his sleeve, leaned over to Shinso and slapped him on the back in congratulations. Izuku turned his head to meet his gaze and nodded. Shinso nodded back. Izuku could hear someone standing outside the door, shuffling around a bit.

"This is due to something else, so bear with me," Aizawa said, slapping the class book onto the table. "Due to good behavior and other circumstances, Katsuki Bakugou has been permitted back into the hero course, joining class 1-B."

Izuku became more than aware of the stares that were thrown at him. Blinking, he leaned back into the chair and shrugged. "That's fair?"

"You don't think his punishment was too short?" Kirishima asked. Izuku frowned.

"I didn't really push for one, I think he's someone who could be a great hero if people rein him in, and if the school thinks he's up for it I say let him."

"That's the attitude I want you all to have, "Aizawa said, nodding at Izuku. "I know a lot of things have happened since then, you've all grown to be more than what you were when you joined this class. I'm not telling you to be nice to him, I am warning you that unnecessary hostility will be met with punishment. This goes for him, too, of course."

The class nodded. Even Kirishima, who still seemed somewhat worried over Izuku, accepted the reasoning without much complaint.

"In the same vein, I expect you all to accept the transfer as your own, or there will be consequences," Aizawa warned, again. The class nodded once more. "Come in."

The door opened, revealing a more than just simply familiar face. The boy who stepped in looked over the class, a small grin on his lips once he met Izuku's eyes. "We've met, but I shall introduce myself once more. I am Hiryu Rin."

The boy whom Izuku had fought at the Sports Festival gave a small bow and put a hand on his hip.

"Welcome," Izuku found himself saying. Hiryu's grin widened, nodding at him.

"I want a rematch one day, Kagura," Hiryu announced. Izuku laughed softly as Aizawa pointed at the empty chair next to him.

"I'll give you one next heroics class," Izuku said. He hoped it wasn't too soon.

He still had to wait for the new sword, after all.

The call came late at night. Izuku was half-asleep, reaching for his phone as he rolled out of bed. The message was from Mr. Yaoyorozu. The name was enough to knock him awake. 'Done' was the only message, and enough reason for Izuku to get dressed and take off towards the Yaoyorozu manor.

The trains weren't going at this hour, forcing him to take the long way around. It wasn't that long, not when you could use a Breath to run over houses and dash down streets with speeds that could likely rival some speedster quirks. He was slightly sweaty however once he reached the palace.

The lights were off, but Izuku knew better. Sending a message back to the man, he waited a minute in front of the door before it was opened. He was dressed just like last time he had met him, with a tank top and heavy pants. These ones did not have holes in them, though. The man's black eyes looked him over for a moment, revealing his own tiredness, and then closed.

"Come in," he ordered. Izuku did, leaving his shoes at the door and stepping into the home. It was eerily quiet, and Izuku was willing to let it stay that way lest he woke up Momo. She was sleeping a lot, still resting and gathering energy.

They ended up taking the stairs up to the man's office. He sat in the same chair where he had promised to take responsibility, but today there was something else here too.

Two swords, held on a display stand on the desk. The man took a seat, crossing his arms. Izuku could see the hint of a proud smile on Mr. Yaoyorozu's face.

"The best work I've ever done," he said. "The swords before, they were made by my wife. These ones we made together. There is of course a difference between them."

"A difference?" Izuku said. "The spirit of two bladesmiths?"

"Experience," Mr. Yaoyorozu said. Izuku raised his eyebrows. "There's a difference in making Nichirin blades for someone you don't know, as well as knowing the theory but not having a reason to waste sun steel on the practice. Now, we know your hands. Now, we know how the sword is to be forged."

Izuku nodded, understanding the reasoning. A good sword was made for the hands of those that would bear it. The hilt's poison, ready to touch his hands, was calling to him. Izuku looked over to the man once more.

"Do it."

And so he did.

Izuku took a deep breath as he pulled the blunt sword out. It did not take the familiar green hue. Instead, the blunt sword changed slowly into a soft pinkish red. A color reminiscent of Nezuko-sensei's eyes, but subtly different.

He blinked, turning to Mr. Yaoyorozu who shrugged at him. "You think I know what colors a blade will take when you draw it?"

"I imagine the people who make it have a rough idea," Izuku said. Nezuko had said it relied on the disposition of one's Breath style, which was why the usual green and black seemed to imply a connection to the Wind style, though now that he had his own Breath, maybe the sword had decided otherwise. "But that's fine."

He grabbed the sharp sword, drawing it as well. Instead of turning into the same color, it started to tint itself from the bottom and became darker and darker. Within seconds, the blade had turned black.

"A bad omen," Izuku said. Mr. Yaoyorozu frowned.

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "Simply another adversary for you to face. A black blade does not announce death, it merely warns of danger."

They sat in silence, contemplating. It was moments later that they were interrupted by steps that came down the hallway.

Someone knocked on the door. Though Izuku knew already, he said nothing. Mr. Yaoyorozu called her in, revealing the form of Momo. Though Izuku was always ready to say the words he thought she needed to hear, she still hunched slightly, as if trying to make herself smaller and less visible.

"You're up late, Momo," Mr. Yaoyorozu said. "Is everything alright?"

"I heard you talking with someone," she said, walking up to them. She was wearing pajamas, her hair free and loosely hanging around her shoulders. "You're here late, aren't you, Izuku?"

Izuku nodded, smiling. "I had to get my swords replaced. The old ones broke, I'm afraid."

"Against Himiko Toga?" Momo asked, frowning. She shook her head. "No, that other fight."

Izuku frowned, glancing over to her father. He hadn't told the man, as he had outright refused to listen to it. Momo got the gist, stopping herself as well. Of course he would tell her about his escapades with Stain, and fortunately for him she didn't disapprove.

If anything she looked rather ecstatic at the idea of Izuku chasing down All For One and Himiko Toga. While Izuku would say it was for duty, a small part of him definitely considered it revenge.

And he was fine with that now. He had seen the lowest of All Might, he knew just how deep someone could sink. What mattered was not the ideal and perfect hero, but how you could claw yourself out of that hole and not fall too deep. Pulling back from the brink of despair was a quality that Izuku would work on to master.

"I'll be borrowing him for a bit," Momo said, grabbing Izuku's shoulder. Mr. Yaoyorozu raised an eyebrow before nodding.

"Feel free to keep him," the man said, only half-joking. "I just wanted to give him the swords before the next week of classes, that's done already."

Momo nodded in approval and all but lifted Izuku out of his chair. He didn't have any reason to resist it, and a chance to talk to Momo was something he would never say no to. He wanted to know more about her, and to properly understand those feelings he couldn't really describe.

So they ended up seated in the living room, if it could be called that. A lounge with a massive fireplace and chimney, a thin TV hanging all over a wall, reflecting their faces in its empty blackness. The fireplace was not on, of course. The night was hot, as had most nights the past few weeks been. Summer was hitting them hard.

That didn't mean they weren't cuddling, of course. Momo was lying not next to him, but sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was breathing slowly, and Izuku wondered if she had fallen asleep just seconds after they sat down.

"I'll come back to school next week," Momo said. Her voice was low, fitting for the time of night, yet with how close she was to his ear he could hear her clearly. "Did… did they see me?"

"They visited you when you were in the hospital," Izuku said. She shifted slightly, her grip around his neck tightening as she buried her face in his shoulder. "You were still in bandages."

He had really hoped she was sleeping, so she wouldn't see the furious red on his cheeks that could almost rival his mark.

"I wish they had seen it," Momo said. Izuku heard the worry in her voice. The fear of being judged, and the failure that she was still having hungups over. "Then it'd not be a surprise, they could pretend it's fine."

"They won't pretend," Izuku said, whispering as his own hand rose and stroked her hair, his fingers brushing through the long strands of black in an unheard rhythm. "Because there's nothing wrong. You're scarred, not broken, Momo."

"I feel broken," she admitted. Her grip tightened once more, and for a moment she had lost control of her own strength. Izuku forced himself to keep breathing through the pressure, continuing to stroke her hair in an effort to calm her down. "Principal Nezu said I have to go to therapy to return to the class, I said yes, of course, but—but, you know."

Of course he knew. Someone does not simply walk away from such trauma, both physical and mental scars would be left behind. While there were children who could prove resilient, and work through those issues with the love and support of a proper family, there were also those who couldn't.

It wasn't fair to compare Eri and Momo, and Momo should know that it was not fair to compare herself either.

"I'll come with you," he said. Momo shook her head. "I'll do it, because there's nothing wrong with it."

Momo raised her head off his shoulder. Her hand glowed slightly in the dark, revealing a chain of red and pink beads after she used her quirk. Izuku took note of the pattern over them, similar to her scars as they left her skin.

"I met a man while I was asleep," Momo said. Izuku blinked. "I was wondering if it might just be my mind playing tricks on me, but the more I think about it, the more real it felt. You know him. You've seen pictures of him."

Izuku frowned, looking at the beads and trying to remember. It took a minute, but eventually he recognized them, as Momo joined her hands in prayer.

"Gyomei Himejima. Nezuko said that the dead were trying to tell me something," Izuku said, planting a kiss on Momo's cheek. "And whatever it is, I should listen. Did he tell you what to do?"

"Meditate," Momo said, sounding skeptical. "Pray, or meditate. It didn't matter to him."

"Meditation is good," Izuku said. "It helps you focus, it's not about anyone else but you. We can do it together if you want."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being about me?" Momo asked, pushing her forehead against his. Izuku couldn't meet her gaze, mumbling a few words without meaning before gathering himself.

"You're beautiful," he got out before his brain caught up. His face turned red, as did hers. Before she could deny it, as he knew she would, he kissed her.

This kiss, it felt different from the ones before. They were no less inexperienced, or any less nervous about it, and yet something just felt off. Not in a bad way—

Izuku wasn't sure just what was different, but when she returned the kiss he knew it was fine to just let it be.

Chapter 34, upcoming:

The Words Said In Anger

"A demon has appeared, and they're not being subtle whatsoever," Tenkai said. He sounded tired, something he consciously avoided whenever he was here in person. Izuku's grip on his phone tightened. "There's some suspicions, the demon targets the elderly, and only ever eats their liver before moving on."

"I'm on my way," Izuku said, hesitating for a moment. "... which way?"

"Last sighting was Akihabara, but we believe it has moved on from there. We can keep you up to date on the investigation until we pinned it down."

"No," Izuku said. "I'll be there. If nothing else I can smell them out."

"Thank you," Tenkai said, and hung up.