Sorry, this is so late. I got major writer's block this week it was horrible. But I figured I would just post this chapter anyway because there's no such thing as perfection... *cries*
When Aizawa woke up the next morning, he realized three things.
One, he had a pounding headache that wouldn't go away no matter what he took. Hizashi had left him some kind of smoothie but Aizawa nearly gagged when he tasted the ginger. He ended up throwing it up anyway before he left for work.
Two, his phone was cracked and wouldn't turn on. Aizawa prided himself on taking care of his stuff. But now he would have to go through the trouble of buying a new one.
And three, he couldn't remember anything after receiving that text from Tsukauchi. This terrified him the most and left a weird sensation in his stomach that only got worse as he entered the station and was automatically approached by Takeyama, Nishiya, and Kamihara.
Aizawa didn't know what was worse: arriving at work hungover or having to deal with these three so early in the morning. He didn't even think Takeyama and Nishiya had work today, yet there they were, standing in front of him with their police attire. It was almost as if they were waiting for him to show up and no one waited for Aizawa to show up. They ran when he did. Or avoided him. Or both. Aizawa was not a happy man in the mornings, especially not after all the drinks he scarfed down yesterday.
"Is it true that you met the ghost?" Takeyama asked, running up to him excitedly.
Aizawa froze. "How did you know about—"
"Did it actually punch you in the face?" Nishiya seemed skeptical but his eyes were twinkling with amusement.
"Wait, hold on," Aizawa shook his head. "Who told you guys about—"
"I didn't know ghosts were capable of hitting humans," Kamihara said, with an eyebrow quirk.
"They're not," Aizawa snapped, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Kayama who was actively trying to avoid his gaze.
"Wait, do you think it's some kind of yokai then?" Takeyama suddenly gasped. "Oh my gosh, what if it's a Kitsune?"
Every time one of them spoke, Aizawa's head would throb painfully in response. It didn't help that the lights in the room were so damn bright. He squinted up at the ceiling and glared.
"A what?" Aizawa asked through a groan. He rubbed at his eyes and then redirected his vision to the coffee pot waiting for him at the end of the hallway. The light from the window made it seem like it had been sent down from heaven itself to relieve him of the disaster unfolding right before his eyes. It was all he could focus on as his body threatened to shut down from the stress.
"You've never heard of Kitsune, Aizawa?" Takeya— no, someone asked from behind him. At this point, all of their voices started sounding the same and Aizawa made no effort to try and distinguish them from each other.
"The only thing I've never heard of is peace and quiet in this damn office," he muttered under his breath as he started filling up his coffee mug. Aizawa knew he shouldn't be drinking caffeine with his hangover, but he also knew that if he didn't, he wouldn't make it through the rest of the day without firing someone.
"They're foxes with magical abilities," Takeyama— yes, that was definitely Takeyama— said as she continued walking alongside him as if his words hadn't affected her at all. Her boldness was part of the reason why he hired her in the first place. Aizawa regretted it all the time. "Apparently they can also transform into humans when they come down to our world."
"But why would a Kitsune choose Musutafu of all places?" Kamihara frowned, or no, was that Nishiya? Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and started counting down from ten.
"Aren't they supposed to be tricksters anyway?"
"Not all of them!" Takeyama said as she reached over and grabbed the last wooden stir from the stand.
Aizawa set his jaw and lowered his own hand.
Takeyama didn't seem to notice and continued talking while she pushed up her cuticles with the stick. "They can be really friendly, believe it or not. But I still think we should give it some kind of offering as a thank you for helping us. Like maybe some tofu and rice, or… or even some sake!"
Aizawa nearly choked. "We are not giving it sake."
As soon as he said that, Dr. Yagi appeared around the corner holding up some kind of bag. "Hello!" He gave everyone a bright and cheery smile. "I have returned with the tofu and sake that you asked me to— oh," the blonde slowly lowered his hand when he met Aizawa's fierce gaze.
"Is… is this a bad time?"
Aizawa slammed his mug down so hard that coffee sloshed everywhere and burnt his hand. "The person who punched me in the face is very much human, alright?" he said through gritted teeth. "He is not a ghost. He is not a Kitsune. He is someone we were privately," Aizawa shot Kayama a glare, "investigating because he might be in trouble. Whatever paranormal crap has been going on is purely coincidental and I don't want to hear anybody bring it up again. Do I make myself clear?"
Aizawa didn't wait for them to answer and walked off, taking the entire pot of coffee with him.
—
"Alright, who was it?" Aizawa asked, walking into his office to find Kayama and Tsukauchi already waiting for him inside.
"Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Grouchy Pants," Kayama smirked while she pushed up her red-rimmed glasses. She only wore them after she had been drinking because she claimed it helped her get over her hangover better. All of it was bullshit and Aizawa knew that.
"I know it was you, Nemuri," Aizawa grumbled as he connected the coffee pot into the socket and watched as it started to fill up.
"Shouta—" Tsukauchi said from somewhere on his right but Aizawa ignored him.
"No, I thought we agreed to keep this between us?"
He was pissed. No, he was beyond pissed. How could they just go against him like this? Whatever was going on with that problem child was serious and he didn't want the whole damn precinct to know about it. Aizawa couldn't imagine how Chief Enji Todoroki would ever react if he found out what was going on in Musutafu. How would the world react? They still didn't even know what they were dealing with and needed to figure that out first before blabbing to the whole world about their problems.
"Oh we did," Kayama said and Aizawa could hear the sadistic smirk in her voice while she talked. "But there was just no stopping you last night, love."
At that, Aizawa finally looked up and glared at each of them. "Naomasa, what the hell is she talking about?" he asked, focusing his gaze on the detective.
Tsukauchi's cheeks went pink as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well, you see, after I sent you that text, Shouta, you kind of forwarded it to everyone in our department."
"I DID WHAT?!"
Aizawa felt the sensation in his stomach return and he moved a little bit closer to the trash can just in case.
"Yeah," Tsuakuchi sighed, giving him an apologetic smile. "Most people ignored it, but those three kept asking questions so we figured we should just tell them already."
"Why would I even send this to—" Aizawa smacked a hand over his forehead and dragged it down his face through a grown, "god this is why I never fucking drink."
Kayama looked like she was having the time of her life as she walked over to him and hopped up on the counter, waving her phone in Aizawa's face. "You said the cat looked really funny and you wanted everyone to know. It was actually kind of cute. I still have the video if you want to see—"
"Who else knows?" Aizawa asked, turning away from her immediately. He ignored the fact that she had taken a video of him and would yell at her to delete it later.
Wait, did Nemuri just say I thought the cat was cute? Because cute was not the way he would have described that mess of a drawing. Still, Aizawa felt his cheeks go red at the absurdity of the situation and ended up walking to the other side of the room so they couldn't see him.
"You mentioned three," he looked at Tsukauchi once his face had cooled down, "Takeyama, Nishiya, and Kamihara?"
Tsukauchi let out a nervous chuckle and leaned back in his chair. "Well, okay, four. You might have sent it to Yagi first."
Aizawa immediately sat down in the chair and buried his face in his hands.
"I think I'm losing my mind."
—
The rain came out of nowhere and Izuku found himself unable to continue his patrol. During the first hour or so, he had slipped on a puddle and twisted his ankle. So now, he sat underneath a store awning, dumping out the water from his shoes and wringing out his socks. He could feel the hair dye starting to irritate his eyes too as it dripped down the sides of his face and neck.
"Note to self," he mumbled quietly, "check the weather next time."
Izuku couldn't believe it was halfway through June already. He used to look forward to the rainy season every year because of all the pro heroes with weather-based quirks that would come out to fight. The thought of him jotting down notes while trying to avoid the rain and blasts from whatever villain that was attacking that day made him feel homesick for the first time in a while.
As Izuku closed his eyes and used his backpack as a pillow, he began to wonder what would have become of him in the other world. Had he truly died in a fire? Or was he having katsudon with his mother right now while they listened to the rain together? Was that even possible? Bakugou probably still bullied him. Izuku hoped he was alive nonetheless.
The greenette didn't even realize he had fallen asleep until the sound of a car door being slammed woke him up. When he opened his eyes, he noticed the rain had stopped and the world was quiet again. Until a voice he immediately recognized spoke up.
"Problem child."
Izuku scrambled to his feet, trying to ignore the slight pain from his ankle. "Officer Aizawa. What a... nice surprise. Th-this isn't your normal patrol route," he said shakily while trying to keep his voice as low and even as possible. The last thing he needed was for Aizawa to discover who he really was. He wouldn't be able to outrun him with a bad ankle.
"I got your little note," Aizawa stopped right before the curb and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper Izuku had left for him. As the officer reached into his pocket, however, Izuku couldn't help but notice the handcuffs dangling from his waist. They caught the shine of the streetlight and glimmered menacingly at him.
He gulped.
"It was the least I could do after… well, you know," Izuku's voice trailed off as he felt his cheeks heat up.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow at him and Izuku quickly cleared his throat. "H-Hope you liked it, though! I worked hard on that cat." It had been a bit of a risk to draw that for him after what happened at Gunhead's, but Izuku had no idea what else Aizawa was into. Aside from his apparent affinity with caffeinated drinks that he found out about after hanging around the Lurkers during their patrols. Maybe he should've gotten Aizawa some kind of gift card to a cafe instead. Or would that be considered offensive because of the donuts and coffee stereotype about cops?
Officer Aizawa doesn't look like he fits any of those stereotypes, Izuku thought while he subtly glanced over at him. But then again, Aizawa was the officer he knew the least about and that made him the most dangerous.
"Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's better to deliver things in person?" Aizawa asked, slowly moving closer. Izuku jumped a little bit when he realized he had been mumbling out loud. "Could've saved me a lot of trouble that way." Izuku heard him grumble.
"Can't really do that when I have the whole ghost thing going on," the greenette said with a tiny shrug. He tried not to show off how nervous he was, grateful for the hoodie's size. It hid the tremors coming from his body and if he put his hands in his pockets like Bakugou always did, he figured it would allow him to give off a nonchalant personality. Izuku used to practice Bakugou's mannerisms back when they were younger. The thought distracted him a little bit and he relaxed.
The key is to not appear nervous, Izuku. He obviously wants to talk to you about something, Izuku decided as he stared Aizawa down. He had to stay calm in order to figure out a way to escape.
"Except you're not a ghost," Aizawa crossed his arms over his chest. "You're just a kid who shouldn't be out here in the first place. Why are you out here in the first place?"
Izuku furrowed his brows a little bit. "Well, I thought that part was obvious! I wanna help out." He had to admit, he found it a little offensive that Aizawa didn't seem to understand his goals. Was he not being obvious enough?
"So, you're playing hero?" Aizawa asked, a blank expression on his face.
"Mmm," Izuku tapped on his chin, "I think vigilante fits better."
At least for now, Izuku felt a small smile appear on his lips. But it quickly faded away as Aizawa's eyes narrowed suddenly and he took another step towards him.
"Are you aware that vigilantism is illegal?" the officer asked.
"M-maybe," Izuku stammered. His heart started speeding up again as he watched Aizawa clench his jaw. He could tell the man was trying very hard not to lose his cool. It reminded Izuku of when Aizawa got the phone call at Gunhead's studio; an expression that was somehow scary and funny at the same time. Izuku pursed his lips, trying not to react.
"Look," Aizawa said after taking in a deep breath, "I don't know how you've managed to do this every night, but it's reckless and stupid and you need to stop."
Izuku cocked his head to the side. "But I haven't gotten hurt yet." As soon as he said that however, his own body betrayed him. A sharp pain shot up his ankle and reminded him that he should shift his weight to his other foot.
Well, that was another big fat lie, Izuku thought while doing his best not to wince.
Aizawa seemed to notice his discomfort and raised an eyebrow. "I find that hard to believe. It's dangerous to be out here, kid. Don't you have any common sense?"
"Uh, yes?" Izuku said through a nervous giggle.
Aizawa scoffed. "Whatever. Let's just go already before it starts to rain again," he said before turning back and walking towards his car.
Izuku watched him with an open mouth. "What?" he asked after a while. "Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you back to the station with me," Aizawa said without looking back at him.
Izuku's heart skipped a beat.
"I need to call your parents and have them pick you up," he stopped and fished the keys out of his pocket. Izuku briefly considered using his quirk to snatch them from his hands but thought against it. "Do they know you've been coming out here? Or are they the ones who are making you do this?"
"N-no!" Izuku shook his head frantically. The thought of his mother ever forcing him to become a vigilante made him feel physically sick. "No. Of course not. I don't… I don't have any parents," he lied quickly.
"Sure, you don't, kid."
"I–I'm serious," Izuku said with a slight frown. "And, plus, I can't go with you anyway," he crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking Aizawa's previous stance. From the corner of his eye, he could see a figure approaching one of the boutiques at the other end of the street.
"And why is that?" Aizawa asked through a sigh, finally turning around to look at him.
"Because someone's about to break into that jewelry store."
Izuku took off before Aizawa could say anything else. He never thought he'd be happy to see a criminal in his life.
—
By the time Aizawa finished pinning the guy down, the problem child was gone.
"Shit," he grumbled underneath his breath while he handcuffed the man and shoved him in the back of his patrol car.
"Whoa, Officer's got a potty mouth," the man snickered and Aizawa resisted the urge to knock him out.
He wasn't above making the drive insufferable for him though.
Instead of going back to the station, Aizawa spent an entire half-hour doing sharp turns and loops throughout the city while he searched for the boy. He only stopped when it sounded like the man was going to throw up and even then Aizawa was still restless. His mind was on high alert as he walked into the station, eyes scanning the area in case anyone else had brought the kid in.
But unfortunately, the building was primarily empty. Everyone was either still out finishing their patrols or had gone home for the night. Aizawa knew he should have gone home too, but he had spent the past week and a half taking extra-long shifts in case he ran into the boy.
"So, how'd it go?" Kayama asked, running up to Aizawa while he filled out the paperwork. He had sent her and Tsukauchi a message when he saw the problem child sleeping out in the rain. "Did you talk things out with him?"
He briefly looked up and grumbled a response. "Nemuri, does it look like the kid's here right now?" he asked, gesturing to the man in cuffs beside him.
Kayama rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. Calm down. Don't get your man panties in a twist, hun. I was only trying to help."
Before Aizawa could respond, however, the criminal beside him whistled and leaned over the desk to get closer to Kayama. His eyes traveled all the way down to her chest while he spoke. "Whoa. Aren't you a sight? Think you can pat me down instead?"
Aizawa's pencil snapped in two and he tightened his jaw. "Who the hell flirts at this hour?" He was fully prepared to knock this guy upside the head, even if it meant he would have to get a disciplinary statement for 'attacking' someone unprovoked.
Kayama simply laughed and leaned towards the guy as well so that their faces were inches apart. "Oh, I'd love to babe," she whispered before kneeing him in the crotch.
"Ah, f-fuck," the guy crumpled to the floor, "t-totally worth it."
Aizawa let out a frustrated groan and handed the guy off to Takagi as he stormed into the locker room to get his stuff. Kayama quickly followed, a proud smile etched on her scarlet red lips. They matched the color of her glasses.
"I've been wanting to do that all night, so thanks, I guess," Aizawa mumbled, shaking off the rain from his jacket.
Kayama snickered quietly and sat on the bench beside him. "Of course. Anyone who gets in between Shouta and his problem child deserves to get kneed in the balls."
Aizawa gave Kayama a forced smile but then found himself narrowing his gaze at the floor. He could see a blurry reflection of himself in the linoleum, half of his face sinking into a puddle that had accumulated by his feet.
"I don't even know when or where I'll run into him again," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair and undoing his bun. "Kid's obviously been avoiding me and seems to have our patrol schedules memorized."
"He's smart," Kayama hummed as she rested her hand on her chin. "Whoever's pulling the strings taught him well."
Aizawa turned to look at her suddenly and frowned. "Do you think it's the same people who captured those Hisobe kids?"
The thought of the children they rescued months ago still gave him chills. He wondered how the young vigilante had felt when he found them.
Vigilante.
Aizawa tensed a little at that word.
The problem child had said he considered himself to be a vigilante. But did he even realize the weight of that word? Did he truly know what he was getting himself into?
"Mmm, no. If he punched you in the face then he isn't afraid of authority," Kayama said.
"Or he's used to having to defend himself from authority," Aizawa mumbled, unhooking the small receiver from his ear and disconnecting it from the walkie on his belt. He used to enjoy getting ready to go home after a hard day at work, but coming back to the station empty-handed, going home and lying in bed knowing that the kid was still out there putting his life at risk, it all made him feel like he didn't deserve a break.
And if what the problem child had said was true and he didn't have any parents— did the kid even have a home? A place to sleep? Was he getting enough food? How did he get to school? Did he even go to school? Did he have any friends?
Aizawa thought back to the way the boy had looked before he approached him. It was hard to tell because of the rain and the contacts, but it definitely looked like he had been crying. What kind of life was he living where he felt the need to risk his well-being every night? Why was he pretending to be some kind of ghost? Was he really connected to the paranormal in some way? Or were they all just sleep-deprived officers who were starting to go crazy because the crime rate was getting so high that they were spreading themselves so thinly? It was times like these that Aizawa started to question his job and his own sanity.
"Shouta," Kayama said, breaking him out of his thoughts, "did it ever occur to you that maybe this is all a really big coincidence?"
"Trust me, Nemuri," Aizawa sighed. "It has. Lots of times." He wanted it to be a coincidence so badly. He wanted that kid to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the more Aizawa thought about it, the more he knew that this was not another simple vigilante case. There had to be something more going on and he was determined to find out what it was.
Aizawa continued removing various parts of his uniform and reached for his phone. He cracked it on the night he got too drunk to function, but the screen was still visible and he was able to see his husband's loving goodnight message. Aizawa briefly smiled at it, but then frowned again when he realized it was almost five in the morning.
"The amount of sleep I've lost over this problem child is getting ridiculous," he said while pocketing the small device.
To his surprise, Kayama started snickering quietly.
"What?" Aizawa asked, briefly glancing back at her.
"Oh, nothing," Kayama tucked a strand of dark blue hair behind her ear. "It's just that for a second there it felt like you were talking about your own son."
Aizawa narrowed his gaze at her and closed his locker carefully. "Nemuri, stop joking around. This is serious."
"And I'm being serious! It's like he's your child or something," she said while following him back out into the main room. "You're clearly worried about him."
"If he's being forced to be a vigilante against his will, then I have every right to be concerned," Aizawa said.
He grabbed his umbrella from the bin on the way out only for Kayama to stop him. She walked in front of him with her hands on her hips.
"But what if he's not?" she asked.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her.
"What if Takeyama's right? What if he actually is a Kitsune? Or he really does have freaky ghost powers?"
"I can't believe you just said that out loud," Aizawa deadpanned.
"Ugh, I know," Kayama slumped against the wall and leaned her head back dramatically. "I don't even know why we're having this conversation sober. Let's go get fucked up at a bar again or something. Then we can talk."
Aizawa rolled his eyes and opened the door next to her. A gust of humid air wafted into the office and Aizawa breathed in the petrichor. "You're impossible," he said before stepping out into the night.
"But you love me anyway," Kayama called out with a wave.
—
"Ah, it sucks that class had to end early last time, don't you think Midoriya?" Uraraka asked as she and Izuku walked out of class together. "Mr. Aizawa was a really good teacher."
Izuku tensed a little bit when Uraraka mentioned the officer's name. He had run into him again last night after all. As for how he kept escaping all the time, well Izuku started to believe he was just really lucky or whatever being that had put him in this universe wanted him to succeed without becoming a government experiment.
At least Aizawa hadn't seemed too upset about being punched in the face by a literal fifteen-year-old. Izuku didn't know what he had expected him to say, but he was rather calm about the situation.
Izuku thought about telling his friends what happened many times. Not that he would ever do so, but it was fun to imagine their reactions and helped distract him from the reality of what he had done. Bakugou would definitely say he was proud of him, or yell at him, probably both. And Uraraka… Izuku glanced over at her as she skipped a little bit ahead. Well, she would probably ask if he deserved it first.
And had he? Izuku knew he was just trying to do his job, but it was hard to keep his powers a secret when they were chasing after him all the time.
"Midoriya?" Uraraka asked, suddenly turning around.
"Hm? Oh, y-yeah. Guess he was," he said quietly, giving Uraraka a small smile. Even if he found Aizawa's presence to be terrifying, Izuku had to admit the officer had helped him a lot. He found himself subconsciously applying all of his critiques when he went out on patrol.
Things like tightening his core and maintaining eye contact with the people he fought with. Izuku also tried to do these things when he used his quirk and it helped him pull heavier objects towards him without feeling too sick.
Despite everything that had happened, the greenette found himself feeling grateful towards the officer. He also couldn't help compare Aizawa's fighting techniques to that of Eraserhead himself, but that could have also been the fanboy in him taking over.
Izuku didn't realize he was lost in his own thoughts until Uraraka bumped shoulders with him. "Though I bet you're pretty relieved, huh," she said with a knowing smile.
Izuku stumbled a little and turned red. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he kept singling us out! It was so embarrassing, I hope Ojiro wasn't looking," Uraraka sighed.
Izuku chuckled quietly and bumped her back. "Hey, I was the one messing up. You were doing great, Uraraka." He wasn't exactly sure if the brunette liked Ojiro, or if she was just starstruck about him. And if she was, Izuku didn't blame her. The more he came to the studio, the more he learned about Ojiro's legacy. Izuku couldn't help but feel self-conscious whenever he found that the boy was watching them train.
Uraraka gasped and stopped walking altogether to look at him. "You… you really think so?!"
"Yeah," Izuku said with a genuine smile. "You've definitely improved."
"Thanks. So have you! You're a really fast learner, you know. I'm kind of jealous," Uraraka mumbled and Izuku couldn't help but laugh at that.
"I do have a lot of time to practice at night," he grinned to himself, thinking back to the past week and a half.
"What was that?" Uraraka asked.
Izuku flushed red again and quickly shook his head. "N-nothing. Anyway, do you want to walk around the city for a bit? We still have some time until our trains come."
"Heck yeah!" Uraraka said, bouncing up and down. How she had so much energy after they had spent two hours in class, Izuku didn't know. But he appreciated her enthusiasm and let her lead the way.
The two teens ended up walking throughout Naka Ward, slipping in and out of various tiny shops and candy places. If they did buy anything, it was only after Uraraka had haggled for a better price while Izuku watched her with wide eyes in wonder. She sort of reminded him of his mother, except Uraraka had much more energy and kept bounding around whenever she saw something cute and pink.
"Ugh, I wish we had time to go on the Ferris wheel," the brunette sighed and Izuku followed her line of gaze. They were currently standing outside the mall that connected to the large moving structure. It glimmered under the light of the sparkling sun and moved at a steady pace. They were so close to it that Izuku could make out the tiny figures inside of the transparent gondolas. He counted at least twenty-eight, each with a distinct group of passengers.
"I don't think I've ever been on a Ferris wheel before," Izuku said softly, watching the gondola closest to the ground. A tiny child pressed their face against the glass and watched the world below them with a smile.
Izuku found himself waving at him and smiled, even more, when the child waved back.
"What?!" Uraraka gasped. "No way!"
Izuku nodded as they continued making their way down the street. He occasionally looked back at the Ferris wheel until the people became blurry dots in the distance.
"Didn't your parents ever take you?"
Izuku shook his head. He wondered if things would have been different in this world with him and his family. If they would have been able to go out to amusement parks and do things together. Have fun. Be a normal family. Would Hisashi still be ashamed of him? Or would he have been the perfect parent everyone painted him out to be?
"That makes sense. Dad only lets me get on the rides he fixes," Uraraka giggled quietly and Izuku found himself laughing along too.
"Oh, yeah. Your dad's into construction, huh," Izuku said as they crossed the street. There seemed to be a crowd up ahead but he tried not to focus on that and instead watched the road for any cars.
"Yep! What'd you say your dad did again?" Uraraka asked, skipping onto the curb.
Izuku chewed on his bottom lip, lowering his eyes to the floor. "Uh, he was a police officer."
Uraraka stopped suddenly and whirled around. "Wait, I knew your name sounded familiar! I just didn't want to be rude and ask."
"Oh, yeah. My dad was the chief of police at one point," Izuku said quietly. It felt so strange to say that about him, knowing all that Izuku knew about the man, so he cast his eyes to the floor and kept them there. Uraraka must have figured his discomfort was due to the fact that Hisashi was dead so she reached over and squeezed his shoulder.
"I'm really sorry, Midoriya," Uraraka said quietly. "It must have been hard growing up without him."
Izuku looked up and gave her a small smile. Had it been? He always asked himself that question. Of whether or not he felt bad about missing out on having a father figure in his life. But because he didn't really have anything to compare it to, minus the four years where Hisashi was actually a good person, Izuku simply shrugged.
"Actually, it wasn't that bad," he said after a while. He thought back to how strong his mother had been after Hisashi left them in his world. The way she had given up everything for him, stepping into the role of father and mother so Izuku would feel like nothing was missing from his life. "I had my mom and she's pretty amazing." Izuku didn't realize he was smiling until he saw himself in a puddle on the street.
Uraraka beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with what looked like tears. "Jeez, Midoriya," she sniffled while wiping her eyes, "we're supposed to be having fun, stop making me get so emotional."
Izuku laughed shakily and wiped at his own eyes too. "S-sorry." He thought back to the bento his mother had prepared for him before he left the house that day. After not speaking to her for so long, he was so glad they were able to talk and work things out the other day.
"Apology taken. Now, let's head back before— wait, is that a magic show?!"
Izuku followed Uraraka's line of gaze until his eyes settled on the crowd he had seen before. He couldn't really see the magician because there were so many people around, but Uraraka had already taken his arm and was expertly maneuvering throughout the crowd without a care in the world.
"Sorry," Izuku flushed red as people shot glares at them until they finally reached the front.
"Step right up, ladies and gentleman. For my next trick, I require the help of a lovely, little volunteer."
Izuku's first impression of the magician was that he was very flamboyant. He stood in the middle of the crowd wearing an orange trench coat that set him apart from everybody else and lengthened out his body even more. Izuku found himself transfixed with the green jewel around his neck where the collar of his coat popped open. It looked very expensive and blended in surprisingly well with the rest of his outfit which involved some kind of black and white mask that covered his face, along with a top hat that had a cream-colored feather protruding from the top. The magician also wore red gloves and was expertly twirling a cane around his hands.
"Oooh!" Uraraka cried as she jumped up and down. "Pick me! Pick me. No wait," she turned towards Izuku and started lifting up his hands, "Pick him! He loves magic."
Izuku's face went red again and he quickly shook his head. "What?! Uraraka, stop. She's exaggerating, I don't even really know if magic is real—" he shot Uraraka a glare before giving the magician a sheepish smile, "—not that there's anything wrong with what you do. I'm sure it's really impressive, but we kind of have to go. Our train leaves in a bit and it's been a long day, so, uh, yeah."
"Nonsense!" The man threw his head back and guffawed before taking Izuku's arm and pulling him to where he had been standing.
His setup was fairly simple, with a foldable table propped up behind him, some kind of purple tablecloth draped over the front. There was a stack of cards spread out atop it, as well as a couple of turquoise-colored marbles lying around. Izuku felt mesmerized by the richness of the color. He also managed to see the magician's name written out on one of the business cards on the table. It looked just as fancy and put together as he did.
"The art of magic is something that everyone can appreciate, young man. Now, tell me. What is your name?" he asked, his voice projecting across the whole street.
"Uh, Izuku Midoriya, sir," the greenette said with a nervous smile. When he looked over at Uraraka, he noticed she was recording him. She gave him a thumbs up and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Ah, Midoriya. That name rings a bell," the magician said while playing with the feather on his hat.
Izuku chewed on his bottom lip and panicked just a little bit. The last thing he wanted to have to deal with was being associated with his dad. But apparently, Mr. Compress had other plans.
"No, really, it quite does!" The magician plucked out the feather from his hat and crushed it with his palm before opening it to reveal a tiny bell.
The people in the crowd gasped and Izuku blinked, staring at where the feather used to be.
"H-How did you—"
"Ah, such a marvelous sound," Mr. Compress jingled it before tossing it up in the air and catching it with his other hand. "Don't you think, Midoriya?"
Izuku blinked again and nodded quickly. "Uh, y-yeah. I guess so."
"Or is it that you possibly cannot hear?" Mr. Compress asked, before walking over to Izuku. Before the greenette could say anything else, the magician reached out a gloved hand and pulled a feather from behind Izuku's ear. It was the same one he had been wearing earlier.
"Whoa," Izuku said quietly, while Uraraka clapped excitedly from the crowd.
"There it is. No wonder you couldn't hear the bell!" Mr. Compress exclaimed before putting it back on his hat. "Would you like to keep it?"
Izuku opened and closed his mouth. He looked over at Uraraka who gave him an aggressive thumbs up.
'Say yes,' she mouthed.
"Yes?"
Mr. Compress proceeded to stick out his arms and showed his empty palms to the crowd. Then, he pulled up his sleeves and shook them out, before asking Izuku to run his hands over and under his own as if to prove to the crowd that there were no strings attached.
"Now, choose," the magician said before clenching his fists.
Izuku furrowed his brow as he glanced at both of his hands. Mr. Compress wanted him to choose? But how would he know where the bell was hiding?
"Uh, left," Izuku said with a slight shrug.
Mr. Compress nodded and then uncurled his fist… only to reveal a small blue marble. He opened his other hand and there was nothing inside.
Izuku blinked. "But I thought you said—"
"Ah, I believe you have something in your right pocket, young man."
Izuku frowned but quickly shoved his hand inside to check. His eyes widened slightly as he made contact with the smooth, curved surface of the bell. He knew what it was before he even pulled it out, and even when he did, he and a couple of others in the crowd still didn't believe it.
"No way."
"He had that in there the whole time."
"This has to be fake. There's just no way."
Mr. Compress chuckled quietly and moved over to the crowd, leaving a stunned Izuku behind as he checked all of his pockets.
"Now, now. The art of magic simply deals with illusion. If you do not believe me, check your own pockets. For I, the great Mr. Compress, have left you all with a gift to thank you for supporting my humble performance!"
Before Izuku knew it, the whole crowd erupted into gasps and whispers. One by one, everyone pulled out tiny bells from their pockets and started ringing them just to check if they were real.
Izuku laughed out loud and looked down at his own little bell.
"Do you still doubt the art of my craft, young Midoriya?" Mr. Compress asked, walking over to him with what looked like a smile on his masked face.
Izuku's ears turned red but he nodded nonetheless. "Yeah, sorry. I was just so focused on the time—" Izuku stopped suddenly and quickly shook his head, "—oh my gosh. We're going to miss the train. Uraraka!" Izuku rushed over to his friend who was still 'oohing' and 'aahing' at the bell in her hands along with the rest of the crowd.
"We have to go!"
Uraraka's eyes widened too and she nodded quickly, shoving the bell in her pocket.
"Thanks so much, Mr. Compress, uh, here," Izuku scrambled for some yen and placed it on the magician's table, "thanks for the cool show. It was nice meeting you. Bye!"
—
Izuku had never run so fast in his life. By the time he and Urarara reached the train station, they were both drenched in sweat and gasping for air. They didn't even make it on time, but luckily, their trains seemed to be delayed.
"Oh… my… gosh," Uraraka breathed out as she collapsed onto one of the benches like some kind of starfish.
Izuku couldn't even laugh at her because he was too busy trying to catch his breath. He wasn't used to running so much in the daylight when the sun was still out. It was nothing like running around at night unless he was chased by some kind of athletic criminal but that rarely happened. Plus, Izuku knew his way around Musutafu, all the shortcuts, and whatnot. Naka Ward was still fairly unfamiliar territory.
"I can't believe we just did that," Izuku managed to say after collapsing next to her.
The two teens didn't say anything for a while but then Uraraka sat up and pulled out her bell.
"I can't believe I got this free bell!" Uraraka grinned. "It even has a pink ribbon on it. Super worth it."
Izuku rolled his eyes but smiled too as he pulled out his own and jingled it by his ear.
"Guess that guy was legit after all."
"I'm totally going to send my mom a pic," Uraraka said as she pulled out her phone. Izuku watched her fumble with her bag before turning to stare at the train that zoomed by. He relished in the cool air that blew past him every now and then.
I can't wait to go home and take a shower. I probably smell so bad, Izuku thought with a slight laugh.
"Oh my gosh."
Izuku froze.
Had he said that out loud?
He quickly turned to Uraraka and noticed she had gotten up. Her face was no longer flushed and had gone increasingly pale.
"H-hey, what's wrong?" Izuku asked with a frown.
Uraraka didn't answer him at first and shook her head. She kept rummaging through her bag and eventually started flipping the pockets of her tracksuit inside out.
"Uraraka," he reached out and grabbed her hand, "are you okay?"
When Uraraka finally turned to look at him, Izuku realized she was crying. There were tears running down her face and her hands were shaking.
"Uraraka—"
"My wallet. With all my money and the keychain dad got me for my birthday. It's… it's gone."
DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN. Poor Uraraka. Hope you enjoyed Mr. Compress' little cameo. Also, at this point, I feel like this fic is just crack treated seriously, but I promise it's gonna get more intense soon. Just, like, enjoy these funny moments while they last :,) *sweats*