Aaaand we're back!
Been heavy on the worldbuilding for this story more-so than I have for probably any other of my fics. I guess the Boku no Hero world is just that fascinating, albeit an unfortunately optimistic view of superhero society. Now Amazon's The Boys on the other hand, THAT is how a modern-day superhero society would function. Damn that show is good.
Fair warning, this fic has been somewhat 'light' so far compared to my usual works. It'll get increasingly darker, Deku's perspective and character will get increasingly warped over time, and if you are one of the people who idolize your 'cinnamon roll' do-no-wrong views of Midoriya Izuku, this story will be hard and painful for you to sit through. I will recommend you stop reading this and find another fic where Deku is the perfect hero you want him to be.
No, seriously. You've been warned.
"You have a date."
Midoriya's head bobbed as he gulped down the bottle of water. He made a sound of relief, and poured the rest of the contents down his head. "She's… very smart."
"I'm more surprised that she's fucking real."
"Thanks for believing in me, Kacchan."
Kacchan snorted. "Just…" He shook his head, scowling off at the rising sun. "Huh. You're right. Never believed you had it in you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Figured you'd grow old surrounded by dozens of girls who wanted to bone you, but never take 'em up on their offer cause you'd be too dense to realize what they're offering."
"Saiko and I aren't going to bone –" he tossed the bottle of water, and Katsuki caught it without looking. "We're just meeting out for lunch." Midoriya frowned. "Wait, there are girls who want to… with me?"
"See? There, that's that fucking denseness I'm talking about."
"Kacchan –"
"How the hell is it, that you can pick out the bloody legs of an ant inside a bowl of murky soup, but can't even realize when a group of bimbos have the hots for you?"
"A group of –" Midoriya coughed. "You're not talking about the girls in class are you? Kacchan – I've told you, they just needed my help, and that was it."
"Yeah, they needed your help alright."
"I thought you didn't pay attention to these type of things… or… care about them."
Kacchan's right eye twitched. "Do I look like I'm a fucking eunuch?"
"You never seemed to care about girls."
"There hasn't been anyone fucking worth caring about thus far."
"Ah."
The morning sun began to truly peak in the sky, the heat and light signaling the end of their morning run. Keeping in shape was a necessary habit for those whose aspirations leant towards the job of heroics… or otherwise. They needed to be firm, capable, and hardy. They needed to have the right stamina to outrun danger and dash in at a moment's notice to stop evil and villainy.
Kacchan had been the one to suggest the morning runs originally, and Izuku agreed to them. They started off on the first week with one-kilometer sprints, running a full one-kilometer for seven days until they got a hang of the rhythm and boosted their stamina to be able to handle the task without issue. They doubled that number to two kilometers in the second week. Three in the third. Four in the fourth.
Next week, he and Kacchan would start running ten kilometers every morning, before school, and even on the weekends. Kacchan had started sleeping in class more often from the energy loss, but Izuku didn't have much issues with it, and had continued to use class time for his own personal study.
"So, this girl you're meeting –"
"Saiko."
"Saiko. Whatever. What do you like about her?"
"She's smart."
"Mentioned that."
"She's nice."
"Most people's default setting."
"Kacchan, why're you interested?"
"Because it's you, Izuku. I wouldn't put it past you to pity-date a girl you don't fucking like if you think it'll make her just a tiny bit fucking happier."
Izuku opened his mouth. Words of protest were meant to have come from them. Supposed to. He breathed into cold morning air, seeing his breath appear before his face, before closing his lips. He couldn't exactly deny it, because it was something he could see himself doing. Technically it's something I'm already doing… but he couldn't mention that. For now, that secret would remain a secret. Kacchan wasn't ready to handle that information. He probably never would be.
"Shit – the fuck Izuku, you'd actually –"
"I mean… in the long run it'll make her sadder if she realized I only dated her because I felt bad for her. But if she doesn't mind that I dated her out of pity…"
"You're fucked up Izuku."
"Is it wrong to want to make people happy?"
"Even if that happiness is a fucking lie?"
"As long as they never learn it's a lie – then, isn't it fine?"
"Fucked. Up."
Izuku sighed. Kacchan was Kacchan, and he still remained obstinate on things like this. Still believed, with pessimistic zeal, about the inherent bad and evil in the world. Izuku wasn't saying that there weren't bad and evil people in the world, he was just saying that most people's default state wasn't. Spreading happiness to the world was a good thing. Parents lied to their children about Santa Claus in order to make them happy and believe that a person brought them gifts. Churches and religions in the Pre-Quirk era told unconfirmable tales about the existence of a reward for one's good deeds in an afterlife, and people believed it because it gave them the strength and hope to keep marching forward and live, day by day. They went on and built charities and organizations to make the world a better place. So what if they did it in expectation for a reward? They still did good things.
There were some people who didn't understand. Even if you did a good thing for the wrong reasons, as long as you did a good thing, that was enough. So what if some people took a video of themselves helping a homeless man and did it to advertise their generosity? The hungry man didn't care – he'd have food and money, and that was more than those condemning the helpers were capable of providing.
As long as you did a good thing, did your motivations really matter?
"So, is that what you're doing to this Saiko girl?"
"No."
"You sure about that?"
"Saiko and I've been chatting since we met a few months ago," Izuku said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "She kind of challenged me do to something with my Quirk that she didn't think I was capable of doing… and we kinda non-verbally agreed to only meet after I'd done what it was she thought I couldn't do."
Kacchan snorted. "Sounds like a bitch."
Midoriya chuckled awkwardly. "W-well she's not… I mean… she's not all bad. She's just a bit too smart for her own good. I don't understand some of the stuff she talks about, sometimes. She's kind of the type of person you'd need to do an internet search just to be able to follow her in conversation. She enjoys tea, a lot. She likes Pre-Quirk Era fiction. Western Philosophy. Science Fiction books. She loves astrophysics. She's written a book on it."
Kacchan stared. "She's in high school and has a fucking book on astrophysics?"
"She graduated when she was nine."
Kacchan's face scrunched up. Izuku shrugged, an awkward laugh slipping from his lips. "I told you she was smart."
"Huh. How'd you say you two meet again?"
"Matsuda-san introduced us."
"…you met at your otaku club?"
"Yeah."
"Huh." Kacchan said. "You can meet girls at nerd gatherings now? What the hell is the world turning into…"
Izuku's lips quirked. "Kacchan… are you… you actually… actually interested in girls?"
"As opposed to fucking what, being interested in starfish?"
An undignified snort escaped Izuku's nostrils. "…so… what kind of girl are you looking for?"
"I'm not looking," Kacchan said. "I'll know when I find her. And that'll be that. What matters most is becoming the No. 1 Hero. Getting a girlfriend is something any idiot can do. But not anyone can be No. 1."
"I dunno, Kacchan. I think you might scare off girls with your explosions."
Kacchan scoffed. "Better for me. If she can't handle a few explosions, what good is she? I need a partner, not a burden."
Fair enough, Izuku thought.
"You'd also better not let some lovey-dovey shit get your eyes off the prize Izuku. I'll fucking kill you if you end up failing the entrance exam because your head was in the clouds over some girl."
"Relax, Kacchan," Izuku hummed. "There's nothing in this world that's going to distract me from doing what it is that I set out to do."
Especially now, when he was entering into the first phase of his plans. Now, when everything was slowly starting to align, and his goals would increasingly be within reach. The task would be difficult, of course, and he would certainly make a lot of enemies, but Izuku was prepared to make that sacrifice.
"You said she challenged you to do something with your quirk?" Kacchan asked. "What's that all about?"
"Oh, well, basically she wanted me to solve this really complicated science problem regarding the Quirk Factor. Essentially finding and isolating the Quirk Gene from neural connections and cerebral pathways, and identifying the core activation mechanism in organisms which enable the usage of quirks, along with exploring the limitations and why those limitations are in place. It's really quite interesting."
"…right." Kacchan said, his eyes darting around. "Interesting."
"So, Kacchan, the way I was able to solve this problem was that –"
A large, billowing crash echoed in the street ahead. Kacchan had an expression on his face that almost said, thank god, and Izuku couldn't stop the smile on his lips. He'd never truly lied to Kacchan about what he did, or lied to anyone, truly, about some of his more… questionable activities. He was just fortunate enough, that they didn't ever seem interested in learning as to how Midoriya Izuku managed to breakdown the complicated drug Trigger, and refine it into a serum which was capable of significantly enhancing quirks, without any drawback of hyper-aggression or mental instability.
"Let's check out what that was."
"We might make it late for class if we do that."
"We'll be taking and acing the entrance exam soon anyway. You really still give a shit about classes that aren't doing anything for us?"
Izuku's lips opened but Kacchan beat him to the punch, racing down the street. "Last one there is second place trash!"
"Damn it Kacchan!"
XXXXXX
Move, move, move! Yasui Odei knew the risks he took. Get the hell out of my way! His internal turmoil didn't stop him from slamming civilians aside in his getaway. His form was never built for haste, and his maximum speed down a busy street on a school day was limited by how many people he barked to get the hell out of his way. The alarms were already blaring, and he knew, all it would take, was one do-gooder bystander to ruin his day. Fuck, there they go –
"Villain!"
The cry was always the same. "There's a villain on the loose!" A busybody would yell. "Somebody call the Pro-Heroes!" another would scream. For the first time, they were correct, in that he was doing something villainous. Other times, even when they weren't, they'd simply just assume and immediately sound the cry. Fucking bastards wouldn't last a day…
The civilians probably thought to themselves, there goes a revolting looking sludge-man! He must be a bad guy! Yasui scoffed. Bastards. They were all bastards. Did they think he chose to be a pile of puke-green sludge? That if he could be something else, he wouldn't? No, of course not. He wasn't bloody stupid. Nobody in their right minds would want to live their life as a formless, gelatinous blob monster.
"Halt there, villain!"
Damn it! Yasui hated them. He hated heroes. Heroes were everything he was not. It wasn't bad enough that they were born with better quirks, oh-no, they also had the adoration and support of the public. Some snobbish-pricks who got lucky with great quirks and felt that they were better than everyone else because of it. Fucking bastard! GET OUT OF MY WAY!
Yasui didn't care to look where the bastard landed. He heard a sickening crunch from the landing, and equal parts vindication and terror swept through him.
Come on, a manhole – manhole – the nearest manhole damn it! Yasui searched, frantically making his way down the streets as he looked for his escape route. Robbing a bank in daylight in a city filled with Pro Heroes was a suicidal deed. Villains who committed grand crimes in daylight were of two categories: the dangerously competent or the immensely idiotic.
Yasui was neither.
He was of a rare, third category: the incredibly desperate. He'd been pursuing the only type of honest, decent work that anyone born as an ugly gelatinous being could pursue. The world was a large place, filled with different people with different tastes, and as it turned out, a lot of people had this strange, inexplicable fantasy of getting thoroughly ravished by living gelatin.
Yasui didn't understand the fetish, but he didn't need to understand it to make money. His fellow co-actors were often less than eager to get down to business as he was. Yasui didn't take it personal when they puked after the taping was done, nor did he take personal the looks of disgust and revulsion they would shoot his way once the director told them what fetish it was they'd be catering to.
Sure, there were those who'd originally been enthusiastic, all of which had immediately lost that enthusiasm once the camera started to roll and Yasui did as he was meant to. There was a reason a 'fantasy' was meant to be just that, and that was the fact that Yasui didn't have any aphrodisiac-secreting magic-bullshit to make the ordeal better. If he was some kind of fantasy-slime, Yasui knew his life would have been far easier, but he wasn't that lucky.
Someone else was that lucky, and once that person showed up, Yasui found himself out of a job. He tried everything else. He tried firefighting, but was let go because a child was too scared to jump into his arms and would rather stay in a burning building. He tried construction work, but didn't have the necessary chops needed to do it. He went as low as sewage management, and even that was better served by some bitch whose Quirk could create black holes or something.
His landlady already barely tolerated him living in her apartment. He'd been rejected tenancy in different places because the owners didn't want it known that a 'monster' lived in the vicinity. If he defaulted on his rent, even just once, that would be it – he would find himself on the streets, without anything to his name.
None of that was what drove Yasui to rob the bank that afternoon. Bad as it was, his decision to risk it all was spurned by something more than a desire for self-preservation.
"Surround him!"
More heroes. He didn't recognize any of them on sight. Cannon-fodder – if I can just – just get away… If he could get away from these ones before anyone really dangerous managed to show up, then he could make it. I can make it, he repeated. I can make it in time.
The heroes were rushing to clear the path, evacuate the civilians. Yasui saw it as an opportunity. He searched the area. School children were up and about. His eyes locked on to two boys, perhaps in middle-school, who stood off in the distance. The blonde one had scary eyes, and Yasui felt it wasn't wise to choose someone who'd struggle. The one standing beside him –
A pretty boy, Yasui was disgusted. He was envious. The green-haired boy possessed a face that looked like it could be plastered on magazines and found in expensive catalogues. Someone like that most likely had never suffered in life. Someone like that would never be able to relate to him. A scathing, bitter laugh escaped from within him. If I was born that pretty, what would my life be like?
With simmering resentment, Yasui lunged for the boy. His gelatinous form swayed and swept past the attempts of the Pro-Heroes to stop him, as he inched ever closer to his target. He'd learned how to forcefully take over people's bodies from all the experience he had in the industry, and he was thankful for that at least. The boy was handsome, and handsome people usually had good quirks, because kami was an unfair, petty, bastard.
"Oi."
A single word stopped him in his tracks. He hadn't been paying much attention, to the blonde boy beside his target. The blonde kid with dangerous eyes. The kids' red eyes pierced into Yasui's form so sharply, that for the first time in a long while, he remembered what fear was supposed to feel like.
"Kacchan," the pretty boy spoke up. "Smash and Grab?"
"Tch. There are Pro-Heroes are here."
"Quirk Restriction Law allows for exceptions under duress, in self-defense, or in defense of another."
Yasui was not a religious man. Yet, in that moment of gazing into the blonde boy's red eyes and terrifying grin, he could have sworn he say the devil.
"Now we're talking."
Yasui didn't have time to question it. An earth-splitting explosion rattled him, the shockwaves dispersing and sending his liquid form into the air. His consciousness travelled from individual molecules, back and forth, attempting to reform as quickly as possible.
Except, the pretty boy was moving. There was something in his hands, it seemed. A flask? Yasui was confused. What is he doing with a –
If there was, indeed, a kami up above, watching over humanity, Yasui would have cursed him. Yasui would have cursed his fate, his luck, his life, just as the last bit of his liquid form was sealed away into a school child's water bottle.
XXXXXX
What… did I just… see?
"Let me out of here! Let me out! Let! Me! Out!"
Shinji Nishiya, better known as the Pro-Hero, Kamui Woods, could only stand and stare with the vast majority of the shell-shocked heroes and civilians. The rampaging villain they'd failed to stop screamed loudly from within an enamel flask, held in the hands of what appeared to be a middle-school student.
The two boys stood lackadaisically, as if somehow failing to grasp the enormity of their actions. Perhaps not failing, but rather, not caring, about the nature in which they incapacitated and captured a villain.
"Tch. You were slower than usual on your right swing."
"You're joking Kacchan."
"I know what I saw. Why'd you hesitate?"
Hesitate? Kamui Woods couldn't understand. His own eyes had watched, barely able to keep up, when the green-haired boy leaped and captured each fragment of the blasted sludge in a motion so elegant it could rival ballet. Even as a Pro Hero, he barely made it out, but somehow, his friend could not only see all of it, but point out such minuscule lapses?
"Hey… Kamui…" Death Arms whispered to him. "Who… are these kids?"
The spellbound silence brought forth by the duo's performance wore off, and people immediately began firing the exact same questions.
"That was amazing!"
"Woah! They totally took out that villain like it was nothing!"
"I got it on my phone, look – look!"
Shinji scratched the back of his head, letting out a tired sigh. "I don't know… but I have a feeling we're going to be finding out soon."
He kept his gaze focused on the boy with the green hair. By default, he appeared to be the most approachable of the duo. Kamui tried to be the type of person who didn't immediately judge people by their appearance, but there was no denying it, that standing side-by-side, the green haired boy seemed more likely to be the respectful sort.
The boy's eyes lit with recognition the second he approached. "Ah, Pro Hero Kamui Woods-san." He tilted his head in a semi-formal bow. "Are we in trouble?"
He's very polite too, Shinji noted. "No – not at all. Normally, interfering with the capture of a villain would be considered an act of vigilantism…" the boy's eyes did not possess an ounce of regret or concern. It was almost unnerving.
"But as the villain in question clearly attacked you with malicious intent, you were within your rights to defend yourself."
"And that was some mighty fine defense," Death Arms whistled. "Damn, you kids are good. You looking for work? You could come work with my agency."
Shinji rolled his eyes. "Death Arms, they're clearly still Junior High Students."
"We're applying to U.A.," the green haired boy spoke up, a hearty smile plastered on his face. "So, maybe when we get our Provisional Licenses? What do you think Kacchan?"
The blonde-haired boy glanced at the two men, and then snorted. "I don't work for losers."
"Kacchan –"
Death Arms crossed his arms, barking a laugh. "Pretty sharp mouth you got on ya, don't you kid?"
"Forgive Kacchan, he's gets grumpy when he hasn't eaten breakfast."
"Oi!"
The green-haired boy bowed a bit. "I'm Midoriya Izuku. This is my best friend, Katsuki Bakugo."
Shinji committed the names to memory. "A pleasure to meet you, Midoriya-san. If I may ask… what Quirk do you have?"
"Ah, well, that's –"
"Oi, Izuku." The blonde interrupted. "Hand them the villain and let's get going. We've got to get to school remember?"
"Come on, Kacchan, they're Pro-Heroes –"
"Pro Heroes that needed us to do their jobs for them?" the boy, Katsuki, scoffed. "I could probably take them on and win. You could probably take both of them on at the same time and win."
Shinji wanted to interrupt and set the record straight. His pride, however, knew that he couldn't. For starters, there was no point in arguing with a Junior High School student over something as ridiculous as beating them in a fight, and second, the boy wasn't completely wrong in his assessment that he was needed to capture the villain.
Shinji's quirk was ill-equipped for such a foe, as was Death Arms and Backdraft. Meaning, on their own, the best they would have done was to keep tabs on the villain and stop him from harming innocents, while waiting for someone more suited to the task of capturing it.
This was of course, still rather important hero work. Minimizing casualties and holding down the fort was by no means any less of a job for a Pro Hero. However, as was in sports, while it was great to be the man with the most assists, you only ever got real attention for being the man to score the most goals.
"There's a lot more to hero work than merely catching the villains," Death Arms chided. "You got some real chops on you kid, but you're not going to get far with that attitude. Not unless you're aiming to be an Endeavor-clone."
"Who the hell would want to be a copy of the guy forever stuck in second place?"
Shinji winced at that. The green-haired boy, Midoriya, merely shook his head, an expression on his face which clearly told him how he was used to his friend's rather abrasive attitude. The boy cleared his throat, and with a polite bow, handed over the flask containing the sludge villain.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Kamui Woods-san, Death Arms-san, but we really need to get to school before we're late."
"Tsk." The blonde boy clicked his tongue, before turning around. "Heroes don't fucking lose."
Shinji could tell that the Midoriya boy was making a hasty getaway for his friends' sake. Or at least, it was the impression he got. The two boys also didn't manage to get far before they were being swarmed by spectators asking them questions and giving them congratulatory pats on the back. The Pro Hero had a feeling that he knew what was going to be on the seven o'clock news tonight.
"Heh, the UA Festival is gonna be exciting this year." Death Arms chuckled.
"You think they'll make the cut?"
"You think they won't?"
Shinji shrugged. "Not many people can say that they've stopped a villain even before they entered a Hero Academy. It doesn't exactly mean they're hero material. Well, at least, not both of them."
"Now the blonde kid may be a bit rough around the edges –"
"No, not him." Shinji interrupted. "The other one."
"You're kidding, right?"
"…he was amused." Shinji said. "The expression on his face, when he asked whether or not he was in trouble. He looks and feels like a generally good kid, but…"
Shinji couldn't shake it off. When he'd brought up the fact that what they'd done could be considered vigilantism, he'd expected some sort of reaction, typically. Instead, there'd been nothing. No, there'd been something, and that something was the fact that there was nothing. Aspiring applicants to a Hero Academy knew what it meant to have something as serious as a vigilantism charge on their record, and yet…
Midoriya Izuku had been amused.
"Anyway," Shinji held the flask containing the sludge villain. "We might as well hand this guy over to the –" Shinji felt the flask. He shook it, once, twice, and sure enough, it was filled with something, but there were no longer any voices from within.
He was tempted to open it up, just to confirm that it really was the right flask, but he knew that if he did, and it was, then he'd merely let the villain loose. There was no reason to risk that, not right now, nor right here.
"Something wrong Kamui?"
"No… Nothing."
Midoriya Izuku, the name came to mind. What an interesting boy.
~~~~~A Precise Note ~~~~~~~
"Do you have to antagonize everyone you meet Kacchan?"
"They sucked Izuku. They sucked and you know it." Kacchan pointed his fingers straight at him. "Say it wasn't us that sludge creep aimed for. He'd have grabbed some poor bastard while the 'heroes' were twiddling their thumbs."
"There wasn't much they could do," Izuku hummed. "Their quirks weren't equipped for the situation."
"Bullshit," Kacchan scoffed. "That's the problem. They were just thinking about their quirks. Do you know how much shit they could have done if they'd thought about solving shit without using their quirks? Woodface can't trap him with his vines, sure, but what the fuck is stopping him from busting the fire hydrant and hosing down the sludge to slow him down?"
"You mean other than the repair fees and collateral damage fines?"
Kacchan pressed his lips together. "You're shitting me."
"Kacchan, Pro Heroes have to keep damages to the minimum, because it gets taken out of their paychecks, and gives a bad reputation for their Agency."
"So, what, your rep is more important than catching the bad guys?"
Izuku gave a sheepish grin. "Sorta." He shrugged. "You've got to remember that being a Pro Hero is also a business, Kacchan. You're a celebrity, and an authority figure, and a first responder, and… well… at times you've got to pick your priority."
"That's… fucked."
Izuku didn't disagree.
The rest of the walk to Aldera Junior High was done in a disgruntled, but not uncomfortable silence. It gave Izuku the time to think. He'd been doing that a lot, thinking. Sometimes he wondered if he truly had the conviction needed to go ahead with his goals, but whenever his doubt came up, he squashed it immediately and reminded himself as to why he was doing all this in the first place.
Funding of course, was going to be his major problem for now. He didn't own a bank account and couldn't quite open one without parental supervision. Whatever money that was put into the account would obviously draw significant attention once the funds began to pour in. Hence, that was why he needed her.
The murderer.
"Oi… Izuku, look alive."
Their usual pathway was blocked. Not by construction or by an immutable obstacle, but instead, by shabbily dressed hooligans, about four of them in total. One had red hair styled into a mohawk that gave him the impression of a rooster. He was the one in front of the gang of four, with the other three members sporting similar mutant-type physiology such as an extended tongue or long, ape-like arms.
"He's the one ain't he, Boss?" a man on the left side said. "Green hair, pretty face. Yeah – he's definitely the one."
"I can see that you idiot," the red-haired rooster man said. He gave a sneer, before turning to face Izuku. "Hey, kid. Don't make this rough on yourself. We've got instructions not to hurt you – so if you just come along quietly, this'll all go easier."
"Um –"
"Wait, wait," the rooster-man held his hands up, "Before we get started, do either of you have a card?"
Izuku flicked his gaze to Kacchan. Kacchan's brows furrowed in a blend of annoyance and irritation. "The fuck are you talking about?"
"Even if all you've got is a White Membership Card, you can flash it and we'll be on our way. They made it clear that all kids with cards are off limits, even for other kids with cards."
Cards? Izuku's brain started working. He searched for any connection or memory he possessed of the past few weeks with anything concerning cards or memberships. The only thing which came to mind was apparently some kids acting oddly suspicious, shifty and flighty, and the one time a boy from his school had dropped a strange White plastic card with the letters "L.O.V" atop.
He didn't have enough data to draw an accurate guess, but he felt he would get his answers another way.
"Just so you know," Izuku began, "Under Section 4, Sub-section 5b of the Quirk Restriction Law, it is not punishable to utilize one's quirk when it applies to the defense of another, alter ego defense, defense of others, or defense of a third person. We have the right to use reasonable force including –in certain circumstances– the use of deadly force."
"Cute," the mohawk man said. "And am I supposed to be scared?"
Izuku gestured his hand. "My friend here, has a Quirk capable of generating explosions. His maximum explosive yield is in the kiloton range. To put this into perspective, one of the famed nuclear bombs from the Pre-Quirk era had a yield of just about fifteen kilotons or sixty-three terajoules. While my friend certainly isn't currently capable of outputting that yield, he is, however, capable of generating an explosion on a much smaller scale that will still surely vaporize your flesh and liquidize your organs."
Everyone went silent. Even Kacchan was unusually quiet.
Izuku didn't let his smile let up as he took a step forward. "Should he be forced to engage in combat in the defense of another, that is, myself, it is highly likely that we can kill all four of you and get away with it in the court of law, while spinning the narrative for us to be known as brave heroes and your names, and family names, forever known as villains who sought to harm schoolchildren."
He took another step forward, and all the men took a step back.
"That said, your mother, father, brothers and sisters will be harassed, shamed, thrown out of stores and rejected life-changing opportunities for being the dead relatives of evil villains. If you have no value for your own life, please consider theirs. Don't be the reason your parents hang themselves from a tree out of shame."
The three men at the back had increasingly pale visages. Midoriya could almost hear their thumping heartbeats. He could see the sweat gathering on their faces, identify the tiny micro-expressions of doubt and fear. The only one still struggling with indecision was the mohawk man, to which, Midoriya identified the cause of his indecision as a stick-and-carrot situation.
"B-boss… I think – I think we should think about this."
"Shut up damn it." The mohawk man said to his comrade. His gaze flickered to Kacchan, who, playing along, started sparking loud, wild explosions in his palms.
"F-fuck." The rooster-man swore. "Listen… I – I don't want to do this either – but the Hand and the Void – you can't go against them. They – they made the decision. We have to do whatever the brats with the cards order us to do or else –"
"Or we'll vanish," the thug with long arms whispered. "Like Aruta-san and Nize-san."
Izuku's mind was running a thousand miles a minute. "The Hand and the Void?"
"The League, man. They –" the rooster man bit his lip. "Look, all I know is, a girl had a Black Membership card, so we gotta obey them. If we don't – it ends bad. Every thug on the street, every criminal in this city that isn't affiliated with the Eight or the MLA is automatically a puppet for the Hand. And the Hand gave out cards to a large group of kids, so we gotta do whatever those kids want us to do depending on the card they got."
"You're saying someone told you two to… kidnap me?"
"The girl, she – she wore your uniform," the long-armed thug said. "She said you'd be jogging down this road – said she didn't want you hurt or nothin' but just wanted us to tie you up and bring you to 'em – and – and –"
The man didn't manage to let out another word. Izuku didn't know what to say when the thug suddenly disappeared. There was no sound to accompany his disappearance. Neither motion nor noise nor anticipation. For all intents and purposes, one minute, the thug was there, the next, he simply stopped existing.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! The Void! The Void! Fuck! No, please! Wait – I didn't say anything! I didn't –"
They vanished. One, by one, until it was as though they were never there to begin with. Their path was left unobstructed, and an eerie silence settled in the air.
"…What the fuck just happened?"
Izuku found a new question he didn't know the answer to.
XXXXX
Being one of the last days of school, and being two of Aldera Junior High's most promising students, neither of them got into trouble for getting to class significantly later than normal. A lot had happened in one morning, such that both boys found themselves retreating to their thoughts in lieu of the strange, somewhat unsettling experience they had.
"Izuku-kun, are you alright?"
"Izuku-kun, you look a bit tired. Can I help you with a massage?"
Katsuki Bakugo could barely restrain his irritation at the number of hanger-on female classmates that swarmed Izuku's seat once they settled in for class.
"Ah, it's nothing – I'm fine, thank you."
His irritated thoughts settled as he remembered the scene that had occurred before them. Izuku almost seemed to transform into a completely different person in front of those thugs. Whereas Katsuki had been getting ready to flare up a fight, Izuku completely demolished the utter need for a fight with nothing more than a few words – words to which, were for the most part, completely and utterly true.
Katsuki knew his explosions could be lethal. He wasn't an idiot. His body had developed a ridiculous resistance and strength to be able to ensure he could withstand the kickback of his own explosions without blowing his limbs off, but most humans weren't like him. Katsuki's explosions didn't have a 'non-lethal' setting. His saving grace was learning to control his explosions until the damage they did was skin-deep and superficial. Yet, at times, that wasn't enough.
He was aware that if he truly fired his explosions without restraint, he could effortlessly kill people.
He wouldn't of course, he was aspiring to be a hero, not a murderer. Yet, the manner in which Izuku had so casually brought it up and used it as ammunition against the thugs unnerved him. The calm way he talked about killing them and making their families suffer unnerved him. It unnerved him because this was Izuku of all people.
Mr. Midoriya I-can't-turn-down-a-person-in-need-of-help Izuku.
It was like watching Santa Claus pull out a gun and begin to mug someone off the streets.
Sure, he'd always wanted Izuku to grow some backbone, but this was growing a backbone, and then getting a reinforced steel plating across your spine before affixing a giant mechanical dorsal shark fin to it.
Izuku didn't seem obsessed or interested in becoming the No. 1 hero. He seemed less and less interested in that, and more and more interesting in his bizarre research and studies of everything from biology and anatomy to physics and engineering. It was good, for Katsuki, good, because he knew, bitterly, that if Izuku decided he wanted to be the No. 1 Hero, there would be nothing on this planet that would stand in his way from doing it.
The lunch bell rang not too long after, and Katsuki rolled his eyes as a group of girls all but practically dragged Izuku along with them, each coming with their homemade lunches that they'd feed him. The idiot could look straight into the eyes of thugs and bad guys and threaten them with death without breaking a sweat, yet he couldn't say no to a group of puppy-eyed bimbos thirsting after him.
"…Tch."
Katsuki didn't care. He had questions that needed answering. For starters, what had those men been saying about the cards? How had they vanished like that? Was there someone out there, with a quirk who could just make people… disappear? Just like that?
How did you fight against that?
How do you defend… against that?
Training, the answer came to him. Just need to train harder.
He'd keep working hard. Harder. Harder and harder and harder.
The UA Entrance Exams were in two days.
He'd be damned if he didn't make it to the top spot.
The rest of the school day passed by in a dull, unexciting blur. Katsuki barely remembered the names or details of his own classmates, and sometimes even his own teachers. His grades would still rank amongst the top. Behind Izuku, annoyingly, but, he'd long since understood that Izuku's quirk was an utter cheat system, so he removed Izuku from the equation because no one could compete with that cheat quirk, and thus technically, Katsuki was the no. 1 student.
It was a lot of mental gymnastics, but he was happy to make every turn and every tumble.
By the day's end, however, he couldn't find the boy. Or rather, he'd seen the boy be dragged off somewhere by some girl, and they'd disappeared together.
"…Izuku, you'd better not be fucking doing what I think you're doing."
No, he was overthinking things. Izuku wasn't the same as before. He had backbone now, spine now. There was no way he'd let a girl take advantage of him… he wasn't that much of a sap.
"…Goddamnit."
XXXXXX
The teachers gave him free reign to use the science lab when he wanted, which was why Midoriya had chosen the science lab as a meeting spot. In all honesty, he'd never have been able to dilute the Trigger drug without the school's science equipment. He'd been fortunate enough that no one truly seemed to care about what he was doing, especially since he'd use descriptions and words that were way beyond what a Junior High School student was capable of.
He never quite expected to be backed into a corner, here of all places.
"Do you know how hard it is to get you alone, Midoriya?"
Suzume Kanjiru was his classmate. She was a year older than him, having been held back after activating her quirk for the first time and subsequently not being able to be around people until she gained a 'moderate' level of control over it.
Despite that, her quirk still made her unable to sit next to Kacchan and/or Matsuda, one because she'd end up being incredibly irritable and annoyed, and the other because… well… it was Matsuda.
"Can I help you, Suzume-san?"
"You… you've ruined me." She said. "I – I need you to take responsibility."
Midoriya's brow raised. "Um… I don't understand –"
"In this same lab, months ago, I told you to get help." She said. "You – you were fluctuating and controlling your emotions like – like someone just flipping dials on a machine and choosing whatever they wanted to be at any moment."
Oh. Midoriya did remember. That was the day he'd confirmed that he could perform complex surgery with no prior experience by doing surgery on a frog.
"My quirk," Suzume pointed at her chest. "You know what it is."
"It lets you feel the emotions of others?"
"Empathy, that's the name." She scoffed. "It's torture. I'm suppressing it, and yet, I still feel people's emotions around me as though they were my own. If I don't suppress it, I'm bombarded with emotions of hundreds of people all at once, so much pain and anger and lust and hate and –"
She stopped. "And you… you… you – that day, in this lab, you felt happiness. I felt happiness. I felt more happiness than I'd ever felt in my entire life. I felt more joy and bliss from you in those moments than I'd ever felt in my entire life –"
Izuku cringed. "I'm sorry."
"I don't want your apology!" she spat at him. "I – I want to feel it again. I want to feel that happiness again. You set a new standard for what happiness feels like, and it's a standard that is impossible to achieve. Not without drugs. Not without you."
Izuku realized that this could end really badly, really fast. "I don't think it's a good idea."
"This is your fault!" she snapped. "Yours! Yours! I don't care what you think – all I want is to feel that happiness again. Isn't that your thing? Isn't that your whole gimmick? Making people happy?"
"Suzume… I –"
"My quirk is useless, you know?" Suzume laughed. "I thought – I thought I could be a Therapist, like my mother. She said it's not possible. My quirk… it more than just lets me feel what others feel. It prevents me from forgetting the emotion. It amplifies the emotion because I'm vividly aware of it. So no, I won't be consoling anyone suffering from grief and heartbreak, because I'll be too busy bawling my own eyes out. I won't be stopping someone who's depressed from killing themselves, because I'll be too busy tying the noose around my own neck."
Izuku felt a bitterness in his stomach. "I can help you. Once I –" He bit his lip. What was he going to say? Once I complete my plan to rid the world of quirks? Was he going to so openly admit it? The ramifications of such a declaration weren't light.
"Once you what?" she scoffed. "I – I didn't come here for your pity Midoriya. I can feel it, you know, right now. Your pity. It disgusts me. I don't care for it. I don't need it. Just – just give me what I need."
It wasn't that he didn't want to, it was that he knew where that would lead. He'd essentially become her drug, and she'd become his addict. He'd heavily modified his own brain with his Precision quirk to be able to handle to extremes of pumping himself full with feel-good hormones. She, however, didn't have his brain structure. She wasn't capable of bouncing back and forth between extreme highs and extreme lows on a dime without any damage.
"Suzume-san, I can't do what you're asking me. If I do what you're asking me, you'll come back, and want more, and more, and on and on without any end in sight."
"So, what, you're saying I'll be addicted?"
"Yes."
"I don't care."
"But I do. I care about what happens to you."
She scoffed. "No you don –" She stopped her sentence midway. She stared at him, for five, long, hard seconds in which her expression was one of disbelief. "You… actually…"
Her brows narrowed immediately. "No, it's a trick. You're tricking me. Bastard. You're manipulating your emotions to make me believe that you actually care."
"Suzume-san, listen, I'm not –"
Without a single word, she started unbuttoning her uniform. Izuku's words died in his throat. "What are you doing?"
She dropped her skirt, and the gentleman in him closed his eyes. "Suzume–san, please put your clothes back on."
"All men are the same," she said. "I know it. Cause I can feel it. I was nine when I first felt lust and sexual desire fired at me. Because of my quirk, I felt it back in turn, lust, and desire – things I didn't even understand. It's all most of you can think of. I feel it everyday in class, all the time, boys just wanting nothing more than to tear girls's clothes off and stick their dicks into them. Teachers aren't even immune. Most keep their boundaries and never act on it, but the desire and lust is all the same."
Izuku almost choked on a word. "Most?"
"Surprised?" She laughed again. "I could probably ruin some people's lives with what I know, but I don't. I'm not a bad person or a villain Midoriya. I'm just like your friend, Matsuda. You help him out, don't you? He's a walking ball of sexual desire. All he ever feels is the desire to fuck something or someone and you don't judge him, do you? So… don't judge me either for wanting this. We're just products of our shitty biology."
"You'll be addicted –"
"Everyone is addicted to something Midoriya, take it from me. Everyone. And many of us don't get to choose our addictions. Besides, it's not all bad to be addicted to happiness. I know you're not going to take advantage of me. If you were the type, you'd have done it already."
He was hesitating. Splitting hairs at this point. Midoriya wasn't sure what the right, ethical solution was. On one hand, she really, really needed help. And this – this wasn't any different from helping Matsuda, was it? Just like back then, when Matsuda asked him to draw that portrait, and he'd done it, because Matsuda needed his help.
Though if she's addicted…
No, it was fine. He wasn't scum. He wouldn't take advantage of her. He'd never do such a thing. If anything, he'd try his best to make sure she was safe, and happy.
So… did he truly have a reason to refuse?
"Just… just this once…"
Neither of them believed those words.
Taking a deep breath, Midoriya primed his own body, and told it to release the good stuff.
Dopamine.
Adrenaline.
Oxytocin.
Izuku barked a large, happy laugh. He didn't understand why he'd been so bothered by this. He opened his eyes, smiling. Suzume stood before him, toes curling as her lips spread to a smile that matched and surpassed his.
"Oh, you lovely, wonderful, magnificent bastard!"
She strode over to him, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him deeply on the lips. She exhaled, letting him go, laughing and spinning as she did. Izuku couldn't help his own laughter that came from her reaction, and further amusement which came when he realized that Suzume had technically just stolen his first kiss.
He didn't actually mind, because well, she was beautiful! And did you see her smile? That smile was precious! Worth more than it's weight in gold or silver. Her happiness was a thing to behold, and who cared if it was 'artificial' happiness? As long as she was happy, he was equally happy, and that was all that mattered!
"Oh my god, I feel like I can do… anything! I feel… invincible! This – Midoriya, you're amazing! You're – oh my god!" she burst into a fit of giggles. "You're the best!"
She hopped, and for the first time, Izuku's eyes were drawn to the fact that she was still topless. And bottomless, actually, now that he noticed. A simple plain black bra held back moderate sized D-cups. An equally plain black undies were worn as well. Midoriya found it funny. It was technically his first time seeing a girl in her underwear. He'd seen a girl naked, but he didn't like to think of the murderer. Suzume was a real girl. A girl he knew – a classmate.
As he pondered the thought, something changed that Midoriya's own mind wasn't aware of. Not consciously. For the most part, his Precision quirk ran on autopilot and ensured that everything was working precisely, and that there was no excess or default of any sort in his mental thinking. The only time when it stopped that function, was when Midoriya chose to halt it, and overload his brain with happiness.
Now, Midoriya was fourteen. Yet, for the most part, the usual trials and tribulations of puberty that came along with all the awkward horniness and sexual development was halted by his Precision quirk. It made sure Midoriya's brain wasn't like those of boys his age, and thus, unintentionally stalled his sexuality.
Under his happy-boosted mood however, Precision took a back seat, and for the first time in his life, Midoriya felt a new, uncertain emotion blending in with his euphoria and happiness.
And Suzume, with her Empathy quirk, felt it too.
Their excited, happy laughs suddenly settled into soft, quiet, chuckles, where both teens gazed heavily into each other's eyes and continued to do so in silence.
"Suzume-san… I –"
She captured his lips before he could say another word.
And it all went down to hell from there.
XXXXX
Midoriya's thoughts were in chaos. He was panicking. Panicking. He was fourteen, and she was fifteen. What if she got pregnant? What would he say to his mother? How would she react? Would his dreams be over then? What about Suzume and her dreams? How would she handle the burden of being a teen mother? Could he pursue his goal of ending quirks from the world if he was a father who needed to take care of a child?
"Stop panicking."
Midoriya was panicking.
"Seriously, stop, I can feel all your anxiety from here and it's not helping the situation."
"Suzume-san, I swear – I d-didn't mean to – I mean, I would never take advantage – I mean –" he bit his lip. He covered his hands with his face, finding it difficult to say anything. "What have I done…?"
"It's fine."
"No – it's not fine, we just – we just –" he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Had sex. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to utter those words.
"Midoriya… it's fine."
He turned to stare at her. Once the euphoria had worn off, he noticed some new details. He felt there were some discrepancies. Now, seeing her idly sit on the ground, doing nothing but scrolling through her phone, Midoriya felt… confused.
"I… I don't understand."
"Midoriya… I… used you."
"…what?"
"My mother is sending me off to America next summer. A special boarding school where people like me can learn to fully master our quirks without having the burden of maintaining it in daily life. I felt… no, I wanted… to do one last thing here, at home, that I would remember before I left."
She gestured her phone over to him. There was a picture, when did she take that? Of himself, shirtless in her arms.
"So I chose… to lose my virginity and have sex with the hottest guy from my Junior High Class."
"But…" Midoriya's head was spinning. "Everything you said –"
"I never directly lied," she said. "You really did actually manage to set a new standard for what happiness means. And now you've set a new standard for pleasure too. I mean, I knew I was in for a treat because of your Precision quirk but I don't think there's anyone in the world who can top the things you did to me in the past hour."
"Why bother with the whole charade?"
"If I'd just walked up to you and said, 'Hey Midoriya-kun, you're cute, I'm leaving Japan and I want to fuck you before I go' do you really think I'd have gotten anywhere?"
…No. To be fair, Midoriya was almost certain he'd have run for the hills. The boy felt, conflicted. Confused. His anxiety died out and was replaced with a solemn, odd feeling of…
Betrayal?
"I – I didn't really betray you –"
Oh, that's right. She could feel whatever he felt.
"I mean, guys do this all the time right? They lie to women, tell them sweet whisperings or whatever they want to hear just so they can sleep with them. It's – it's just that – there's… I mean… it's not like you were in love with me or anything – and – and you got laid? So… shouldn't you be… I don't know… happier?"
"I…"
There were all sorts of new, complex emotions bubbling that Midoriya didn't know what to feel. All he knew, was that he didn't like how he felt right now.
"I thought I was helping you…" he said. "How did you know your plan would work?"
"You're the only boy in our entire class who's never had a single sexual feeling towards anyone. I thought you were simply asexual at first but after the incident in the lab, I realized it was simply your quirk holding you back."
She gave him a sheepish look.
"So… um… I dunno, at least you should be glad to know that now? I mean… imagine if you'd gone your whole life thinking you had no sex drive."
"Stop. Stop trying to make it sound like you did me a favor."
"But I did do you a favor," she said. "You're no longer a virgin, you've learned that your Quirk essentially makes you asexual, and you've learned not to always trust people like me who come at you with sob stories."
Midoriya felt a flash of something he never thought he'd feel so strongly in his entire life.
"…you're awful."
Disgust.
Suzume flinched. Whether it was from his uncharacteristic words or from the fact that she could no doubt feel the same disgust he felt for her, he would never know.
"Midoriya, I'm – I'm not a bad person. You – you have to understand what it's like living with a quirk like mine. My parents divorced because I accidentally realized my father's infidelity. I know dirty and disgusting secrets that I can't tell to anyone. I know if when my 'friends' feel envious of me, or hate me, or want to kill me. I go everywhere, instantly knowing what people feel about me, what they want from me. You don't know what it's like to live life like this. If I wasn't born with this quirk –"
"Your quirk is responsible for a lot… but it isn't responsible for this."
She bit her lower lip.
"Easy for you to say. You're the guy with the quirk who lets you do anything! You don't know what it's like to be me! You – you should be grateful! You're dense, Midoriya. Naïve. You don't have a clue as to how the real-world works. Look at you! You're this stupidly handsome guy with an amazing quirk who doesn't even realize just how high up the social ladder he is! This is how it is for the rest of us not born as lucky. This is all there is to it. People deceive each other and put on fake airs and masks just to get what they want. The only difference between you and me is that while I claw and fight my way to the top – all you have to do is smile and you'll be given an express elevator ride to the summit."
Midoriya didn't say anything else. He dressed himself, quietly, slinging his backpack across his shoulders.
"Stop it!" she yelled at him. "Stop – stop that feeling. I hate it. I hate it. Stop it! I'm not a bad person! I – you'd have done the same in my shoes! The sex was great so stop – stop feeling like… like I… did something horrible to you."
"Do you believe you didn't?"
She didn't answer. Couldn't answer. If she did, have a response, Midoriya Izuku didn't bother to wait for it.
"The lab keys are in the second drawer on the left. Please remember to lock the doors after you leave."
He closed the door shut behind him, and quietly began to make his way home.
XXXXXXX
UA Academy
Day of the Entrance Exams
Izuku took steadying breaths as he approached the entrance center. As he expected, other nominees pointed, whispered and glanced at him no matter where he went. He knew now that the reddening of cheeks were in response to his supposed physical allure and the hushed whispers were either done in admiration or envy.
Shallow…
The superficiality of it all amazed him. Astounded him. He hadn't chosen for himself to gain a perfectly symmetrical face and silk-like hair. His quirk did. Izuku was beginning to hate it. Despise it. Loathe it. His own reflection in the mirror seemed utterly plain to him, but apparently, if people like Suzume were to be believed, then he was a person people would give and arm and a leg to be or to be with.
"Oi… Izuku… you okay?"
Izuku turned his gaze to his friend. Kacchan. Yes, Kacchan was his friend. Kacchan hadn't treated him any differently ever since he'd looked different. Kacchan didn't treat him any differently despite the physical differences. Yet, there was the voice at the back of Izuku's head, telling him, that it was his quirk which was responsible for this as well. If his quirk had never showed up, would his relationship with Kacchan be as it were today? Would Kacchan look at him like an equal, as he did, today?
Izuku's loathing of his own quirk grew deeper once he realized the answer to that question.
He hated his quirk.
He hated quirks.
Quirks, quirks, quirks, quirks, quirks, quirks!
That's all the world ever talked about. That was the cause of people's hatred and discrimination. That was the excuse people used to do bad deeds. That was the source of people's misery and suffering.
Izuku hated quirks.
"I'm fine." Came his response. "Let's get this over with."
Kacchan gave him a strange look, but didn't question it. "We're in different testing centers. I'm heading up to mine. So… you… do your… best."
The words were enough to almost break his reality. Izuku blinked, staring at Kacchan as if he'd grown two heads.
"Kacchan… did you just… motivate me without swearing?"
The boy barked. "What? No. Fuck off. Die. Eat shit."
"Too late, Kacchan. I heard it. I don't believe it, but I heard it."
"…gaah whatever! You better ace this exam damn it Izuku! Ace it! I won't accept it if your name isn't above every other cannon fodder!"
The boy stormed off, leaving Izuku standing there, laughing softly to himself. Kacchan is still Kacchan after all.
His instincts told him of an incoming person, and he swayed to the side, dodging someone who toppled and crashed into the ground beside him. The brown-haired girl muttered a few words underneath her breath as the contents of her bag escaped unto the floor.
Izuku moved to help her, but hesitated. Out of all the people here, she almost bumped into me? Is it just coincidence or was it planned? Isn't this like a cliché meeting out of Matsuda's shoujou manga?
It was suspicious. He, was suspicious. Yet, despite the initial moment of suspicion, he found his feet moving forward anyway. He swooped up the contents of the girl's bag in one hand, and gestured out the other.
"Are you okay?"
The brunette was fair-skinned with a perpetual blush on her cheeks. Her eyes were large and round, their irises a warm brown, with thick upper eyelashes, two longer and more prominent ones protruding outwards on either side and fewer but more individually pronounced lower eyelashes. Shoulder-length and about the same color as her eyes, her hair was bobbed and curved inwards at the ends, two longer clumps taking the same shape on either side of her face, with short bangs that reached roughly a quarter of the way down her forehead.
Izuku's gaze moved to her hand as she gestured it out. "Oh thank yo –"
On the top inner segment of each of her fingers, she had a small pink pad, somewhat resembling the toe of a cat or a dog's paw. Quirk related?
The girl's outstretched hand touched his, and she looked at him for the first time. Of course, Izuku felt annoyed once he noticed how red her face had gotten. Her gaze could no longer reach his eyes. She wasn't looking at him. She was seeing what she perceived as an attractive teenage boy – she was not seeing Midoriya Izuku.
"Please be careful next time to avoid tripping," he said in a formal tone of voice, "And properly clasp your bags so as to prevent the contents from spilling."
"Ah – um – y-yes, thank you –"
She stuttered, and still, yet, could barely look him in the face. Barely look him in the eyes. A newfound spark of irritation hit Midoriya. I should invest in a mask. He was tired of being admired and not seen. Was he ever this superficial about looks? No. Never. He couldn't recall if there was ever a time in which he'd freeze up and barely meet someone's eyesight because… he felt they were too attractive?
He didn't say anything else to the girl as he made his way off, almost clicking his tongue. It didn't matter. Not now. Now, he needed to invest his full attention on passing the exams – that was all that mattered.
"Um... sorry, I – I didn't get your name!"
The girl called out to him. Midoriya was surprised. Was it because he was now at a distance? No – no it wasn't, the girl approached, and this time, she did look him in the eyes.
"Midoriya," he said. "Midoriya Izuku."
"I-I'm Uraraka," she said, firmly. "Uraraka Ochako."
There was still an initial stutter, but Izuku noticed she was making an effort. He could admire that.
"Thank you for helping me, Midoriya-san," she bowed. "And, um…" she rose her fist in the air. "Do your best!"
Midoriya found his lips twitching into a long-lost smile.
"You too, Uraraka-san. I hope you do your very best."