Disclaimer: I do not own the world of My Hero Academia
A/N: Thanks to everyone who has supported this story this far!
Michiko sat on her bed, looking around the plain room she had been given. She didn't have much in that room. Just a dresser that held the clothes she would be training in, a desk and a chair where she would do her homework.
No need for frivolous things, the President had said when she had asked what to pack.
But. . . .
As much as she hated home, she almost missed it. She missed her toys. She missed the forest green color of her walls.
She wouldn't miss her parents though.
She wouldn't miss being yelled at when she wasn't perfect.
She wouldn't miss their rules.
She wouldn't miss getting hit.
Though, she had to admit, she didn't quite know what to expect here.
There was a knock on her door. She didn't move, turning her head to look in that direction. Another knock. "Hey, new girl, I know you're in there."
Hesitantly, Michiko got up and walked to the door, sliding it open. A boy, maybe a year older than her, stood there, hands in the pockets of his gray training pants, black shirt loose on his body. He was pale, black hair falling into even darker eyes, standing nearly a head taller than her. He tilted his head, grinning. "Hi, you must be Onishi!"
"Oh. Yes."
"I'm Ueda Namiko. Nice to meet you! I was asked to come get you for dinner." Ueda held out his hand, waiting patiently.
"I'm not very hungry," Michiko told him, taking a step back.
Ueda paused, withdrawing his hand. "I get it. It's weird being here. You don't know anyone and you feel alone. But you don't have to be. You're safe here now and we can be friends," he added, holding out his hand one more time.
Michiko stared up at this boy, surprised. How had he managed to decipher ever feeling she had? Tentatively, she placed her hand in his. He grinned again, wider, happier, pulling her forward.
A friend.
The bell rang, signaling the end of school, pulling Michiko from her thoughts. The couple of students who had been studying, third years, packed up their things, calling out farewells as they left. Michiko waved at them, pushing her chair back from the desk, moving towards the book cart, where students had left returned books. A couple of days had passed since the USJ incident and her eyes still felt a bit sore, from straining at the little bit of light she had had at her disposal. As a result, using her Quirk felt like a struggle.
That didn't mean she still hadn't done her best to help out where she could. She assisted in combat drills, creating obstacles and barricades with her Quirk when she wasn't needed in the library. While in the library, she did her best to form a rapport with the students who came in, learning names and memorizing faces. The students seemed to like her and she had a few regulars who came by often just to chat, some to ask her about the battle at the USJ. So far, she had successfully gotten most students to drop the "sensei" and just use her last name. Some, like a super energetic third year named Togata, had gotten bold and called her 'Oni'. She found she didn't mind it so much.
Taking a book from the cart, Michiko placed it on a beam of light, pushing it up into the air, her tongue poking out as she aimed for an empty space, practicing her precision. She figured it was best to get in as much training as she could, even if her eyes were a little sore.
"Onishi-sensei?" Michiko gasped, the book falling to the ground in surprise. Midoriya Izuku jumped, rushing forward. "I'm sorry! Here, let me help! Were you trying to put it up there?"
The boy dropped his bag and a notebook he had been holding, scooping up the book and hurrying up the ladder. Michiko smiled, walking forward. She hadn't seen the boy since the incident at the USJ but she figured all of the first years were busy preparing for the Sports Festival. "Hey Midoriya, good to see you on your feet. You know, you don't have to be so formal."
"R-r-right," Midoriya said, shoving the book back into place. He smiled at her as he climbed back down. "Onishi-san then. . . . Wait, you wear glasses?"
"I strained my eyes a bit too much during the fight. The glasses take some of the effort off." She shook her head, her smile widening as his sneakers hit the ground, picking up his things. "How can I help you today? Shouldn't you be heading home to rest? I'm sure Aizawa-san has been working you all hard."
"Ah, yes, I will, it's just that —" Midoriya hesitated for a moment before he bowed, holding out his notebook in front of him. "I was hoping you'd tell me all about your Quirk!"
"My Quirk?" She had forgotten that Toshinori had said the boy was a bit of a fanboy. Michiko moved to one of the student tables, taking a seat. Midoriya followed after her quickly. "What's with the notebook?"
"Oh! I keep track of my thoughts here." Midoriya turned red, rubbing the back of his neck. "When I meet someone with a new Quirk, I like to write it down, think about their capabilities and strengths."
"May I see?" Stunned, Midoriya handed it over. Michiko took it, wondering if no one had ever asked to look at his notes before. The front read "Hero Analysis for the Future, N.O. 13". She opened to a random page, to a drawing of Aizawa, clad in his hero costume, his hair sticking up from his head, goggles on. Beside him, in handwriting much neater than her own, Midoriya had written statistics and details about Aizawa's quirk, how the man fought, ways he tended to move. In what seemed to be new, squeezed in towards the bottom, Midoriya had added more notes about how Aizawa used his Capturing Weapon to fight as well. Michiko flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for, grinning. A drawing of her smirked back up at her, goggles pulled over her eyes. He had already written a few things down, also about how she used her quirk to fight and move. "This is . . . so cool."
Midoriya blinked at her. "Huh?"
"I mean, your analysis is very through! You have a good eye and obviously pay very close attention to the people around you. That'll come in handy when you own your own agency someday."
The teenager's eyes went wide. "My own agency? Oh, I don't know about that —"
"And these drawings!" Michiko looked up at the boy, her smile widening. "Midoriya, these are amazing. You even captured my winning personality."
"I mean, they aren't that good, I just —"
Michiko gently hit Midoriya on the with the flat of his notebook. She was frowning when he met her eye. "Cut it out."
"I'm sorry?" He asked as she lifted the book, rubbing his head.
"Heroes can't doubt themselves," Michiko explained, knowing she was preaching to the choir. "That's how people get hurt. You're a good guy, Midoriya, and obviously very smart. Plus you have a strong quirk. Once you get control of it, you're going to be so incredible. So, stop questioning everything I say and take the compliment, kid. Your notebook is amazing," she restated, giving him a purposeful glance.
Midoriya paused for a moment before a genuine smile spread across his face. "Thank you. I worked very hard."
Oh my goodness, Michiko thought. He's adorable.
"That's better." She handed the notebook back to him. "So, what did you want to know?"
Those green eyes of his sparkled brightly, as he opened to her page. "Whatever you're willing to tell me."
"Hmmm." She blinked, letting her eyes turn yellow. The light streaming in from the windows blinked in and out in front of view. "It's called Photokenesis, which basically means I can control light. When my eyes turn yellow like this, I'm seeing the photons that make up light. The stronger the light is, the more photons, which makes it easier to control. I can even brighten them or dim them."
Midoriya was taking notes, quickly and precisely. "That's amazing. What do the photons look like?"
"Like the flash of a camera, brief but persistent."
"How do you shape them?"
Michiko grabbed the nearest photon and stretched it out. It became iridescent, a long thin stick for Midoriya to see. "Just stretch them. Depending on how strong it is or what I'm trying to do with them, I can make do with one. But sometimes I have to grab more of them as I move."
"What shapes can you manipulate them in to?"
"I've done bats, batons, a shield, bow and arrow, a sword. I'm able to hop on them if there are enough photons gathered in one space or if the light is strong enough."
"Did you get your quirk from your parents? Or was it –"
"A mutation? In a way, I suppose it was. My father had night vision and my mother could create balls of light, though now that I think about it, it could be that she was making photons solid. That's how other people can see them when I use it," Michiko added, jiggling the stick she had made. "I've made it solid. They usually become solid while I'm manipulating them and disappear right after."
"Can you use flashlights? You could make something like a lightsaber!" Midoriya said, holding his hands like he was holding a sword.
She giggled. "I'll have to make one of those with my photons. No artificial light for me. That's the downside of my power. One of them. I can't create my own light and my power is also very weak at night."
"That makes sense." Midoriya wrote one last thing in his notebook, looking up at Michiko with a bright smile (so cute!). "This is great information. Thank you, Oni-sensei."
"Sure thing. Say," she started, leaning forward, "you wouldn't happen to have any advice for me, would you?"
"Me?" Midoriya asked, his eyes wide. "Advice for you?"
"Yea! You saw a bit of the fight before that warp villain got me," she added. "I'd love to hear what your suggestions are."
"Well, uh, hmmm." The young boy leaned back in his chair, crossing one arm while his other hand came up to his mouth, brow furrowed. "You're fast. I saw you switch between using the light as a weapon and using it for defense, so I'm guessing you don't have to move your hands too much to manipulate it which gives you a bit of advantage if people don't know what you're getting ready to create. You tend to lead with your left when you're fighting though, which, if someone is paying close enough attention, they'll catch on. Do you use any support items? Why is your costume designed the way it is?"
"My goggles help when the light is too bright," she answered. "I honestly just liked the design, you know, cute and simple."
"It's definitely eye catching," Midoriya answered. "I bet it gives you a lot of flexibility to move around as well. I'm not sure if I can add anything to the design, but if I do, I can let you know?"
Michiko tried to wipe the wide smile from her face. If she had been blessed enough to have a little brother, she thought she would have wanted it to be someone like Midoriya. "Sure I'd like that, Midoriya-kun."
Midoriya's face went bright red and he waved his hands out in front of him, embarrassed. The smile on Michiko's face grew as she laughed.
He opened his mouth but stopped for a second, a frown crinkling his brow. "Oni-sensei, why did you quit being a hero?"
"Oh." She didn't know why she hadn't been expecting that question. A curious kid like Midoriya, who obviously adored Heroes, would be very confused by her decision. She took a deep breath, placing her hand on her chin. "How honest would you like me to be?"
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Midoriya said, leaning forward, though he still looked interested.
Michiko bit her lip. It wouldn't make sense to lie, and to be honest, it would be hard to do so when he was looking at her with those big, eager eyes. And the truth was, Midoriya reminded her a bit of Namiko, the way he looked when he was excited.
"You didn't. It's just —" she tilted her head, looking at the young hero. "I never much wanted to be a hero."
"I don't understand."
"I was mostly doing it because someone I knew wanted to be a Hero and I would have done anything to stay by their side." Michiko spread her hands out on the table. "And then I lost them and it just felt like I had to continue on that path they had started. It took . . . Something major to make me quit."
"Your last battle," Midoriya recalled. "There wasn't much info about it," he added when Michiko met his eyes warily. "Just that you had been a huge fight, protecting a neighborhood and then you went underground."
"Underground is one way to put it. I think, had it not been for that fight, I would have kept pushing forward, doing the Hero thing even though it wasn't something I wanted to do. I like working here, with you kids, helping you move forward. Maybe one day, I'll become a teacher like Aizawa and Yagi-san. . . . You want to be a hero, right?" She asked the young boy.
Midoriya nodded eagerly. "More than anything."
"Than you keep going forward, doing your best," Michiko told him, tapping his hand with her fingers. "And I'll be behind you, rooting you on and doing whatever I can to help you succeed."
A genuine smile came to his face. "Thank you, Oni-sensei. I appreciate that."
It would be nice having a kid like him around.
"Are you busy?"
Michiko looked up from her spot near the window, where she had sat in a chair to read a book. Aizawa stared down at her, his eyes visible through his bandages. Just like she thought; six days after the USJ incident and he was still up moving as if nothing had happened to him whatsoever. She knew he had come back that Friday as well but she hadn't gotten a chance to see him. She slid her bookmark into her book. "Not particularly. What's up?"
"Can I spend lunch in here? Sorry, I can't really carry a bribe right now," he added, slightly shifting his bandaged arms.
"You can," she responded, slowly, confused. "My chair's open. It's comfier than the student chairs by far. . . . Everything okay?" she added as Aizawa moved over towards the indicated chair.
"Yes." He dropped down into the chair, sighing as his eyes closed. "It was just too loud in the staff lounge."
Before Michiko could respond to that, Aizawa's soft snores drifted over to her. She stared at him for a moment, taking him in. He didn't really seemed to particularly like his job though that may not be a fair assessment; he didn't seem to really like anything. She hadn't known him long, obviously, but she figured maybe there was something she was missing.
Standing, she walked towards her desk, clenching tight to her book. When she reached the counter, she leaned against him, debating. He seemed like he was resting fairly peacefully, and he had come here not to be bothered, so maybe she should just –
"You're being annoying," Aizawa mumbled.
"Holy shit!" Michiko shrieked, jumping back. "You were awake?"
"Hard to fall asleep when you're just staring at me," he responded, peeking at her out of one eye. "What do you want?"
"Forget it! It wasn't anything important!"
"What is it?"
She paused, leaning against her desk, frowning. "I just wanted to know what made you want to become a teacher?"
"You woke me up for that?"
"I told you it wasn't important!"
Aizawa grunted, shifting in a bit in the chair. For a moment, neither of them said anything and Michiko contemplated walking back over to her seat.
"Midnight suggested it," Aizawa responded.
"You don't seem like the type to follow anyone's suggestions," Michiko said, leaning against the desk.
"I didn't, at first. But she submitted a recommendation for me to Nezu and he accepted it. I stayed in Naruhata for a while, doing underground work before I accepted. I thought I wanted to make a difference in a different way."
"I didn't realize you and Kayama were close."
He snuck a glance at her before focusing his eyes back on the desk. "She was a year above me when I went to U.A."
"That makes sense." Michiko placed her chin in her hands. "Most Pro Heroes graduated from here, didn't they. I would have just been starting when you graduated if I had gone here," she said teasingly.
"Why didn't you?" Aizawa asked, turning the chair slightly to look at her. "Go here?"
Michiko paused for a second before she pushed back from the desk with a smile. "Parents had different plans. I was homeschooled and received training from private instructors."
"Hmmm." Aizawa closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair. "Must have been good instructors. You were top twenty."
"That was almost a compliment." Michiko knocked on the desk. "Get some rest, Aizawa-san. Lunch will be over before you know it."
"And who's fault will that be," Aizawa muttered.
Michiko grinned, walking back towards her chair, though the smile fell when she turned away from the desk. A normal life, she did not have, and she wasn't quite ready to share it yet.
Still. . . .
She snuck a glance back at the sleeping Aizawa.
It was nice that someone was willing to share a bit of theirs.