Toshinori turned the corner, taking in the street ahead of him, fitting it into his mental map. He was starting to learn that it was nearly pointless to patrol the streets at random. Didn't stop him from trying, though. And even if he didn't find anything to do, he needed to memorize the city and get more familiar with his new home.

It was always difficult near the end of the day, when he still had enough energy to do something, but not enough to do remote work unless he felt like running out of stamina partway through and getting stuck several cities away from home. Riding the train for hours had only been a fun novelty the first dozen or so times.

In Tokyo, it barely mattered whether he was trapped closer to home: all he had to do was wander down a street or two and he'd quickly stumble over some crisis that he could funnel his last scraps of energy into. But this city had one of the highest hero-to-civilian ratios in the nation thanks to U.A. and all its faculty... so whenever he told dispatch to keep his calls local, they ended up with nothing to forward him besides cricket chirps, and it was vanishingly rare to just happen upon anything that didn't already have a hero or six on top of it.

Which was good! It was wonderful. It was the way things ought to be. But it left him with nothing to do but think of all the calls he couldn't fulfill elsewhere, all those cries for help that went unanswered because he insisted on selfishly hoarding his power inside a body that was falling apart at the seams.

As if it were trying to prove him wrong, his dispatch alert went off.

He dug his phone out of his coat pocket. The call looked like a convenience store robbery, but the urgency was still escalating even with four heroes on scene. They were requesting a strength or phasing Quirk, specifically.

Well, would you look at that. Sometimes this city needed him after all. He'd get to help one last time today.

He ducked behind a mess of construction fences cluttering the street, glanced around to make sure he was out of sight, then reached into his Quirk. One For All exploded out in an exhilarating rush, wrapping around every cell in his body, once, twice, seven times—power layered on top of power, enough to move a car, to move a ship, to fling a skyscraper across the city like it was a toy. A terrifying, beautiful force. People wondered if such an overwhelming power ought to exist at all, and he wondered it too, but it did exist, and it was his.

He grinned, almost laughed at the heady high of it. It burned, it ached, like trying to pin down a supernova with his bare hands. It would tear him apart, bit by bit, until it finally ripped free of his hold completely.

But that wasn't going to happen yet. He had time. Right now, everything was in its place, just the way he remembered it. For these few short minutes, he was himself again, and he could do anything.

He hopped up to the roof of a nearby building, stashed his coat and scarf in a corner, hit the response button, then shot off towards his destination.

The nice thing about faux-flying, besides the convenience and speed, was that he usually got a few quiet moments of bird's-eye observation before anyone noticed he was approaching. The convenience store was a nondescript little building on a street corner, covered in advertisements for coffee and fast food and sporting a few vending machines out front.

But even without the gathering crowd out front, it was immediately obvious that something was strange: a person, who looked like an ordinary pedestrian, lay collapsed in front of one of the vending machines... conscious, but not getting up, splayed out oddly. Several heroes were right there on the sidewalk, but they didn't approach the fallen civilian. Instead, they paced back and forth several meters back, radiating anxiety and frustration, like they were trapped behind an invisible line of barbed wire.

Further back, a crowd of onlookers murmured amongst themselves. He could see uncertainty on their faces. That doubt was what he fought as much as the criminals: the quiet, gnawing worry that maybe, today was the day that society's heroes would break their promise to keep them safe.

Not today. Today, he'd put that worry to rest.

There was plenty of empty space to land in front of the store, but if the heroes were avoiding that area, maybe he ought to avoid it too. He angled to a spot off to the side, cast out his Quirk a little to slow him down so he wouldn't shatter the asphalt like glass when he landed. A hero in a cream-and-yellow outfit and an odd beaked mask was standing nearby, next to someone in a matching outfit who was tapping hurriedly on a phone.

"Well, how high did you escalate it?" he asked, leaning over her screen. "Can we go prefectural yet?"

"Yes, there's just not..." she trailed off, then her eyes got huge. "Wait... it's saying that—"

"—I... am here!" He didn't hit the ground hard enough to cause a shockwave, but the two of them jumped out of their skin anyway, and the crowd gasped and then exploded into excited cheers.

He laughed. He knew these kind of theatrics were absurd, arrogant... but that was the whole point, wasn't it? To tell the whole world that these villains' antics were barely worth getting worked up over, that all their power to hold people in fear could be instantly snatched away by a goofy showoff who laughed at his own jokes. All he'd done was show up, and already, the whole mood of the street had transformed from anxious despair into relief and excitement.

The beaked hero leaned back slightly. "Oh, my god..." he murmured. "Sano, what did you ask for!?"

The sidekick looked at her phone in shock, then up at who it had summoned. "A-a-a, um, a strength Quirk!?" she stammered. "Holy shit...! Um, it's an honor, sir!"

He laughed. "The pleasure is mine." It really was so much fun to drop in unexpected. "What seems to be the matter here?"

The beaked hero turned to the store. "Well, the owner tripped the burglary alarm, but when we got here, it was like this... it's like gravity suddenly gets stronger, starting right..." he pointed at a spot on the steps up ahead. "...there. It's got practically the whole building. If we try to go in, we just get pinned down and can't move."

Gravity? So that's why everything seemed off. "Any demands?" he asked. From the outside of the store, he couldn't see any movement, and he couldn't hear anything besides the creaking of the building.

The hero frowned. "No, that's the strange thing. Nobody's coming in or out, and we can't get inside to see what's happening. We don't know what to do."

That was unusual. The type of person who went after convenience stores usually wasn't the type to hatch convoluted plots, or stick around for long.

"Well, let's take a look!" he said. He walked forward, to the spot the hero had pointed. He took one more step, and—oh, there it was. His foot was being tugged down, like it suddenly weighed as much as a block of lead. No wonder everyone else couldn't even get up. Still, it wasn't anywhere near the kind of forces he handled while using One For All. It was disorienting, but it wasn't going to stop him.

He stepped completely into the altered gravity, and heard cheers and sighs of relief from the crowd behind him as they saw that it couldn't pull him down. That's right... this was going to turn out just fine. They didn't have to worry any longer.

At least, he hoped not. He assumed he had plenty of energy for one last job, but jobs usually didn't involve constantly dumping huge amounts of counterforce just to stay upright. He needed to resolve this quickly, or he could end up in a world of trouble.

Ahead of him, the automatic doors whined and squeaked, unable to pull themselves open properly. He could see several people inside, all pinned to the floor, their clothes and hair tugged down strangely under the oppressive force. He couldn't spot any obvious perpetrators from here, where the view of the floor layout was mostly blocked by stands and displays. Going in blind, then.

In one fluid motion—a little less fluid than normal, since the gravity put him off-kilter—he reached out, shoved open the automatic doors, and leapt inside, all senses on alert, taking in everything around him at once, ready to lunge or dodge very quickly.

But nothing came at him. The people in the store lay plastered to the floor, mostly still. The noise from outside sounded muffled, like the gravity was pulling it down too before it could reach his ears. Around them, the structure itself groaned. He couldn't imagine any building code made with something like this in mind. Some of the shelves had collapsed under the sudden weight of their contents, spilling cans and snacks all over, and a few ceiling tiles had pulled themselves loose and smashed to the ground, but they hadn't hit anyone. Nobody seemed harmed, just very scared and unable to move.

When he appeared, most of the people who could see him let out various breathy noises of joy or relief. But one noise was different from the others: a muttered "holy shit" and the sound of someone trying to scrabble on the laminate. He turned and maneuvered around a display to see a young man stuck to the ground in front of the checkout counter... clutching a knife. Well, well.

The young man glanced backwards at him as he approached, slitted eyes bulging in horror. "I didn't do anything!" he wheezed. "I didn't touch anyone!" He had a leather jacket and jeans, and two scaly hoodlike flaps running down his neck that made him look a little like a cobra. He couldn't look more like a classic young delinquent if he tried.

"I suppose that knife's just for show, then," Toshinori replied, giving the youngster a friendly clap on the back that knocked the breath out of him. He gently yanked the weapon out of the stunned kid's grasp, then pinned him down with one hand as the young man spat and cursed.

But this kid didn't seem to be controlling the gravity. Did he have an accomplice hiding somewhere? Why were they doing this?

Toshinori felt a cough well up, and forced it back down. His body was getting close to calling it a day, whether or not he wanted it to. Maybe it would be best to forget the villain and just try to evacuate the people in here, get them—and himself—out from under this crushing force—

Then a choked sob came from the corner. A little girl, maybe ten years old, with jet-black hair flecked with silver like a starfield, was lying halfway through the entrance to the back room, pinned like everyone else. Her whole body shimmered slightly, and her tear-streaked face was screwed up in concentration. "Y-you came..." she whispered. "You came..."

Oh... he understood now. "Were you protecting everyone from the robber until we got here to help?" he asked. Good lord, what a powerful Quirk coming from a child. Then again, fear could trigger extraordinary feats.

"Mm... hm..." tears rolled down her cheeks. "He... he said he was gonna cut up Dad..."

"S-shut up!" the young man yelped, and the girl keened. Toshinori pressed a little harder on his back, silencing him.

This situation probably would have resolved itself without any injury if the owner had handed over whatever the delinquent wanted and let him run. But she had no way of knowing that. And once she triggered her Quirk—which she apparently couldn't confine to one person—she had no way of knowing whether help had arrived or not. So she had waited, struggling to hold on, suffering her Quirk's effects alongside everyone else, having faith that a hero would come to save them.

Suddenly, Toshinori was overwhelmed with the sheer gratitude that he'd come to this city, that whoever was on dispatch right now had sent this call through, that he'd had enough energy to answer it... that he could uphold that faith, that he could keep the promise he'd made to her and everyone in this nation.

"You did a good job!" he said, and she gave a wobbly smile. "I'll make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. You don't have to make things heavy anymore."

She sighed, and relaxed, and the pressure lifted, and the clawing sensation in his lung waned a little. He tensed and cast his eyes around the store as the strained metal of the stands screeched and the ceiling creaked, but nothing collapsed. About six seconds later, the heroes from outside flooded in. He gave them an all clear signal, and they began helping people up from the floor. An older man crawled out from behind the counter, coughing, and scooped his daughter up into his arms.

He still had a firm grip on the delinquent, who had stopped struggling and had that glazed look in his eyes that said he was finally starting to grasp the situation.

"Do you think you can sit up?" he asked.

The young man glanced back at him, surprised. "Y-yeah," he muttered. Toshinori lifted his hand away, and the kid shakily pushed himself to his knees.

An officer near the entrance waved, and Toshinori smiled and held up a finger. He just needed a moment. The officer nodded and hung back, but tossed a pair of cuffs towards him. He caught them, though he had a feeling he didn't really need to restrain the kid—people who got this look in their eyes didn't try to fight back anymore.

At the feeling of the metal on his skin, the young man broke into a babbling string of words. "I, I... I just needed to pay rent, I don't want to be out on the streets, I just, just wanted..." he trailed off, looking lost.

"We all want the same things," Toshinori said, quietly. "But the goal of society is to let us all get those things without harming each other. It's not there, not yet... if you feel like you needed to do this, then society's probably failed you already. But in the end, you can either try to help make it better, or you can make it worse. Think about it... is this really how you want to be remembered?"

The young man didn't reply. He looked trapped in his thoughts. Toshinori had no idea whether talking to the people he caught ever helped, but someone at least had to try. This kid was young; he still had a chance to turn things around before this lifestyle pulled him down too far to escape from.

He exchanged a few words with the police—there wasn't much to tell them—then turned to the store owner. "Excuse me, but do you have a back door I could use?" He wanted to stay and see the aftermath, banter around with the crowd a little... but he couldn't. Not this time.

Luckily, none of the reporters had thought to come around back, and soon he was off again. He ended up taking a few more hops than strictly necessary, definitely not because he forgot which rooftop he stashed his coat on. He couldn't help but be glad for even a little more time like this... enjoying the feel of the wind, casting out counterforce to control his fall, a precision honed over decades of practice that let him land with a feather touch... remembering the comically shellshocked expressions of the heroes when he showed up, the relief of the crowd, the look on the little girl's face. He was the luckiest person alive to be able to see that face, to be able to bring that look into her eyes.

Finally, he spotted the telltale cream of his coat. He touched down, looked up at the deep blue sky, and sighed, feeling the ache in his bones and the painful itching tug in his chest. It was time to stop, now. He was done for today.

He gathered his things and headed into the cover of the stairwell. After a quick glance to make sure it was empty, he preemptively winced, then relaxed his grip on One For All. In an instant, the caged energy flashed away into steam, sending a ripping jolt of pain through his chest as it took half his body with it. Next would be—the familiar sensation of drowning welled up, and he coughed, tasting copper, until he could breathe again.

He stood, a little dizzy, blinking away the dark spots in his vision. His limbs felt leaden even though they weighed a third of what they did a moment before. The whole world felt heavier. Muffled, faded, numb.

God, he hated it. He hated letting go. It felt like more and more of him slipped away every time he did. He hated how quickly his old self vanished, like it knew it wasn't supposed to be there anymore.

No... he didn't need to feel sorry for himself. Didn't he just say he was the luckiest person alive? He got hours, every single day, to wield the most powerful force in the world. Nobody else on earth had this kind of opportunity. He had no reason to mope just because he got less time than he wanted.

He stared down at his now-thin hands, his knobby wrists, like paper over bone. Only about three hours, now, out of twenty-four. He had always promised himself that he would never let it get this bad, that he'd pass on the torch while it was still bright. The people deserved better; One For All deserved better. But it always became something to focus on tomorrow, another day, another week, another month, another year. How much longer would he have put it off if Nezu hadn't offered him that teaching position?

Speaking of which, there was an enormous mountain of teaching certification coursework waiting for him at home, sprawled across his table, and his desk, and part of his kitchen counter. It was ironic: to become a teacher, he first had to become a student again. The joke would be a lot more funny if it didn't actually involve textbooks and homework. But he'd survive. He had defeated Japan's greatest villains, after all! He could defeat a few classes too.

And then, once he did, he would go teach at U.A., and find someone special, and pass on his Quirk. He would let go of the thing that defined his whole existence, and become nothing for the very last time.

He felt something lurch in his chest. No, he... he didn't need to rush home right now. It was still barely late enough to call evening. He could do something else for a while.

A few of the locals were holding a Quirk exhibition today, weren't they? He did want to get a better look at the kinds of heroes he'd be working alongside while he stayed in this city. And maybe apologize that he was going to be poaching their jobs every now and then. He couldn't just ignore things that happened right in front of him, even if the locals needed the numbers and pay much more than he did.

Yes, that was a good plan. He put in a full day's work, and now he could go relax and peoplewatch for a few hours. He'd chip away at the coursework later.

He set off down the street, pulling his coat a little closer around him. He always felt too hot right after changing back, but then his body would overcompensate and he'd start shivering. It didn't help that there was a chilly bite to the air. The weather had spent all of last week trying to decide whether it really wanted spring to arrive or not.

He knew he'd made it to the right place when he saw a giant horned woman towering over the treetops of the park up ahead. Mt. Lady sat crosslegged at the end of the long incline of grass and blooming cherry trees, wearing a cheery white-and-pink variation of her costume that mirrored the soft colors of the spring blooms. The grounds around her were filled with vendor booths, food stalls, and groups of chattering people, making her look like a happy kid sitting in the middle of a very detailed model toy set.

She was hard at work making a good impression, waving cheerily at the crowds that surrounded her. She looked like a natural already. Gigantification was a hard Quirk to lead an agency with, but if she already had appearances lined up just a week after her debut, then she was clearly ready for the challenge.

He made his way off the roadside and down the incline a bit, to a relatively quiet patch of grass, and sat down to wait. There was still about an hour.

The grounds further down were absolutely crammed with people exploring the festival booths, finding creative photo opportunities with Mt. Lady, and having hanami picnics under the spring blooms. Happy clumps of friends and families sat scattered under the branches, talking and laughing and enjoying their lives. It was serene, like something off a postcard.

This... this was exactly why he'd worked so hard, for so many years, wasn't it? So people could enjoy this kind of carefree peace. He needed to make sure this peace would stay, even after he was gone.

He always kept one finger on the various noises around him, but he only really listened for telltale sounds of distress or anger, so it took him a moment to realize that one of the many excited voices coming from the nearby path was very familiar.

"Um! Hi! Hello!"

He turned, and—oh. Oh.

It was him, from last week—Midoriya? Izuku Midoriya, he was fairly sure that's what the boy said to the paramedics. The somewhat reckless middle schooler who had thoroughly humbled him. He was over on the path that led down from the park entrance, bundled up in a blue jacket, waving at Toshinori from the shadow of a woman who looked like his mother.

As soon as he met the boy's eyes, Midoriya's excited smile froze and he shrank back a bit, like he was afraid he'd done something wrong. Okay, surely he wasn't that spooky, even when he was missing a couple hundred kilos. This boy was just timid, right? He put on a smile and raised a hand in return, and Midoriya's face lit up like a beacon. He turned to the woman next to him, excitedly chattering something, and she smiled and shooed him forward.

Toshinori got to his feet, brushing down his coat, as the boy scampered off the stairs and through the grass. "Hello again... Midoriya, was it?" he said. "How are you? You look much better than you did the last time we met."

Midoriya let out a shy little laugh. "I, I'm good! I had a sore throat for a few days, but I'm good." He fidgeted and glanced back over his shoulder. "Sorry to bother you... I noticed you, and Mom wanted to say hi."

"It's not a bother," he said. "I'm happy to see you again." And oh, he really was. It was so rare to meet the same person twice... to really see how, thanks to some fleeting task he did before, that person could laugh and have a carefree evening today. There was no better feeling in the world than knowing he had been a part of making that happen.

He looked out towards the woman who was making her way towards them, a little slower than her son had. She was shorter than Midoriya, with the same dark hair that reflected evergreen in the light, and the same bright smile. He bowed slightly as she approached. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Midoriya."

"It's nice to meet you too!" she gave a flustered little bow in return. "I saw what happened last week, on TV... and Izuku told me all about you. Thank you for keeping him safe."

"I only gave him a little backup... everything else he handled on his own. You have a very brave son."

Inko beamed. "Yes, he's a good boy... I just wish he'd learn to stay out of trouble!"

He tilted his head. "Funny, that's exactly what I said to myself when I first met him."

Midoriya's brows drew together in shocked offense, and his mother smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a shout behind them. "Inkoooo!" A woman who appeared to have bat ears was waving at them from the stairs, next to a group that was hauling picnic supplies down the steps. "C'mon! This stuff is heavy!" Several of them looked like they'd already started in on the liquid festivities before getting to the park.

"Just a minute!" she called. "I'll be right there!" She turned back towards the two of them. "Sorry, that's my work group, I need to go. Izuku, you'll be fine, right? We'll meet back up at 7? Don't leave the park, check in with me if anything—"

"Inko, who's that?" A tipsy-looking coworker called, in a tone that made Inko go bright red. "Inkoooo!? What've you been hiding from us!?"

"I'm so sorry about them," she said, a hand over her face. "They're just... well, no, actually, they're always like this. Anyway, I... don't think I caught your name...?"

He frowned. "Right... I must have forgotten to mention it to your son before. I'm Toshinori Yagi." He hadn't forgotten at all, he just tried to avoid sharing it if he didn't need to. But it would be too strange not to answer now. Ah well. "I hope you have a good evening, Mrs. Midoriya. Seems like it'll be lively, at least."

"Yes, I'm sure it will be... thank you again, Mr. Yagi! Love you, Izuku!"

"Love you too!" Midoriya cried, as his mother hurried off to join her coworkers, who were now delightedly ribbing her about the tall and mysterious stranger she'd been talking to.

"She's still kind of nervous after last week..." Midoriya said, looking after her, "but I can't imagine that guy would show up here with all the heroes around."

"Not unless he felt like being captured in record time," Toshinori said. Which he wouldn't mind seeing, not at all. He stretched and sat back down on the grassy incline. Midoriya was short enough—well, Toshinori was tall enough—that sitting actually brought their eyes a little more level with each other.

Midoriya frowned. "I don't know... I was thinking about it, and the heroes at this event would actually be pretty badly matched for his Quirk..." a faraway look came into his eyes. "Gigantification wouldn't help at all... Kamui Woods might be able to catch him, but only if there are parts of him that he can't turn into sludge... and it would depend on how tightly he can weave his branches..." his voice got gradually softer as he started to list out each hero's pros and cons under his breath in methodical detail, looking more and more lost to the world the longer he murmured.

Toshinori looked on, a bemused grin slowly spreading across his face. Midoriya had done this a few times last week, too. The boy could spin a (somewhat disorganized) doctorate thesis out of thin air when he really got captured by a thought. It was kind of impressive.

"So, is this how you process near-death experiences?" he finally asked, after Midoriya had drilled down to his third sublevel of mental bullet points. "You pull them apart into tiny little pieces until they beg for mercy?"

The words startled Midoriya out of his little reverie—literally startled; he jumped slightly. "Oh, um," he shrank into himself. "Sorry."

Oh, kid... that was supposed to be a joke. "It's not something to be sorry about," he replied. "It's valuable. You're turning a bad experience into something useful."

"Well... I'm trying..." Midoriya glanced to the side, a thoughtful little smile peeking out like it was coming back out of hiding. "I guess... last week made me realize, if something bad happens, I should at least try to learn from it, right? It made me realize I have a lot of work to do."

"That's a good way to approach it. After a fun evening out with your friends, that is."

Midoriya looked appalled at the insinuation. "No! I came to study the heroes at the exhibition! It's academic research!" He brandished his backpack as if it were indisputable proof.

"Mm... I don't suppose you're going to research the vendor booths as well?" To which Midoriya squirmed and glanced around guiltily with a muttered maybe. Toshinori laughed. "I'm here to see the Quirk exhibition too. I like being able to watch heroes in person."

Midoriya's eyes got very wide, and he was suddenly abuzz with excited energy again. "You are? We could compare notes!"

Good god, just look at this kid, practically vibrating in his oversized red sneakers over something as mundane as a Quirk demonstration. It was the most endearing thing he'd ever seen in his life. "I'm not as diligent as you, I don't take notes," he said. "Maybe I should... then I wouldn't forget as much."

"Exactly! And it's a good way to organize things, and compare to what you've seen before—"

"But it's not for another hour, right? I don't want to keep you from your friends. Is that other boy going to be here too?"

Midoriya looked at him quizzically. "Who?"

"The one you helped... the explosive one."

Midoriya's whole expression suddenly transformed. "Kacchan? I don't... think so?" He bit his lip. "...I didn't think of that... what if he is here?"

Toshinori stared, nonplussed. He had not expected that sort of reaction. He assumed the two of them were friends, but based on the way Midoriya was glancing around like a rabbit that had heard a mountain lion, maybe he had misjudged.

"You... said he didn't believe you about the villain, and that's how the villain escaped... did you two have a falling out because of that?" Midoriya had been awfully vague about the whole thing.

"Um, well," Midoriya ducked his head a little. "Not, exactly... we're not really close. We used to hang out as kids, but we don't anymore."

Knowing each other when they were little explained the cute nickname, but... that still couldn't be right. Toshinori knew the look he'd seen on Midoriya's face last week. He'd seen it many, many times before. It was the look of someone whose life was so deeply interwoven with another's that they had no idea how they would piece themselves back together if the other person didn't make it through.

Maybe he saw wrong. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Or maybe this old childhood friend still meant a lot to him.

"Anyway, I'm not here with anyone besides Mom..." Midoriya murmured in a deflated tone. "I was just going to check out the stuff at the booths, and probably play on my phone for a while..."

Then he frowned, perked up. "What about you? Why are you an hour early? Are you waiting for your group?"

Oh, he was perceptive. "Ah, no... I just moved here, I don't know anyone. If I'm being honest, I'm mostly trying to put off my work papers at home." He sighed. Being honest made the barefaced procrastination very obvious. He was supposed to be better than this. And yet, here he was.

"I mean, I wouldn't want to do work papers if I didn't have to, either..." Midoriya said. "...But you just moved here? Um, welcome!"

"Thank you! It's been very pleasant so far, aside from the slime people."

Midoriya smiled, then glanced away, looking like he still had more he wanted to say. "If... you're not doing anything else..." he finally ventured, "would you be annoyed if I waited here too? I can see why you picked this spot... it's quiet. I won't bother you."

A pang went through him. He... really ought to tell this kid to go. All Might couldn't play favorites with civilians, even very earnest, kindhearted ones. First off, the slightest hint of special treatment could make them a target for every villain in the country. Second, it tended to cause PR disasters like nothing else.

But... he wasn't All Might, was he? Not to this boy. Not to anyone here. To them, he was just a random person.

And yet, that was a problem all on its own. He wanted to stay random. Just because he completely failed at being discreet last week didn't mean he needed to keep on doing so. He didn't want to draw attention to the person that existed when he couldn't be All Might. That person didn't need to mean anything to anyone. It would only cause trouble. Besides, nobody deserved to be stuck around the weird, sick-looking guy with the clothes that didn't fit for any longer than they absolutely had to.

His phone alarm went off in his pocket. Oh, that was actually a perfect excuse. He pulled it out and silenced it as he got to his feet. Then looked down at the boy, who was quietly peering up at him with those wide, hopeful, forest-green eyes.

He was such a shy child. It must have taken a lot of nerve to ask if he could stay.

...Would it really be so wrong, to set aside the grand scheme of things for just one evening? To play hooky for a few hours? Would it be so bad to be remembered by a single kid?

"I wouldn't be annoyed at all..." he said, "but I thought you wanted to look at the booths? I was planning to see what they had to eat... and you still owe me dinner for saving your life."

Midoriya blanched. "Uhm...?!" he stammered. "I, I did bring some money, but, uh..."

Good grief, kid. "I'm joking," he said, grinning, "but I do need to eat. You can keep this spot if you like it, but I wouldn't mind the company if you wanted to come explore."

"I, I do!" Midoriya cried. "—want to explore, I mean!" He broke into a trot to keep pace, and they ventured down into the cheery, bustling festival grounds.

1) Hanami is the popular tradition of going out to enjoy the cherry blossoms during the few weeks they bloom in spring, usually accomplished by having a picnic with your friends/coworkers at a park. It often involves large amounts of alcohol.

Did I say that this chapter was going to have plenty of Toshinori and Izuku hijinks? What I meant was that I am not good at estimating scene lengths so I split this chapter in half. Tune in next time for Quirk discussion and slight existential crises.