Izuku used to think that facing his own limits was like admitting defeat. Heroes weren't supposed to have limits. But ignoring them and stumbling around blind had never helped him either. Now that he understood what he couldn't do, he also understood what he could. He felt way less afraid to push himself right to the edge of what he was capable of, now that he actually knew where that edge was. He was starting to feel more stable in his own skin instead of anxiously waiting for something to overwhelm him out of the blue.

Everything was starting to feel more stable, lately. He could be reasonably certain that he wouldn't come home with bruises or burns after school. He found himself spiraling a lot less, since he could catch the warning signs further and further out. He didn't have that constant sense of being a speck of dust getting blown around on the wind.

Everything felt more stable, except for one thing... and he wasn't sure if he was allowed to try and change that thing.

Yagi 3:38pm: I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it yesterday. Work has been nonstop. But I suppose you don't really need my help at this point, anyway. You have this all figured out by now!

Izuku's heart sank as he sat in the shade of the rusted-out car parked in the corner of his little section of beach. It was true, Yagi just kept him company at this point. He felt bad asking the man to take time and effort to come out and meet them, just to sit around and supervise. But he felt worse thinking of a future where Yagi wasn't there at all.

Then his phone chimed again.

Yagi 3:39pm: Are you still practicing at the beach right now? I'm in the area.

His heart leapt back up, and then plummeted just as fast. If asking Yagi to sit in the sports center and do nothing was bad, asking him to come out to a sweltering, dirty beach and do nothing was even worse. Yagi was very hard to read, and he always deflected any concern with inane jokes, but Izuku was starting to notice the days when where simple things sent him into quiet coughing spells, when his motions were more subdued and he otherwise kept very still. That would be concerning on its own, but Izuku also knew why Yagi carried dark-colored, patterned handkerchiefs instead of white ones, and that made every stray cough into something alarming.

Yeah, I'm at the beach, but I'm just doing safety rolls right now, it's nothing you need to be here for, he tapped out, quietly wondering why he did this to himself.

He sighed, and put his phone down on top of his backpack, then got up and headed out to the middle of the clearing to keep practicing. The moves had been way more disorienting when he first started, and he'd kneed himself in the face a few times now, but he was starting to get the hang of it. Knowing how to recover from a fall was going to be amazingly useful, and not just in hero situations.

His mind couldn't help but wander, though. He and Yagi were tied together by a very thin string, and Izuku constantly wondered when it was going to snap. Maybe it would be better for Yagi if it did. It would be worse for Izuku, so much worse... but he wasn't the one coughing blood, so he had no reason to complain.

He was just coming out of a roll, trying to remember to keep his feet staggered, when a voice rang out behind him.

"Your club activities are going well, I see."

He jumped in surprise and spun around. Yagi stood near the edge of Izuku's little clearing of sand, looking out at him with a smile.

"You kept your stance too! Good job!" Yagi laughed. "I'm sorry for startling you."

"Mr. Yagi!" he cried. "Hi! You really didn't need to come all the way out here!"

"Ah, but I wanted to," Yagi replied. "Is it all right if I keep you company?"

The whole reason Izuku was out here in his tiny concealed trash hideout was so he wouldn't have people watching him awkwardly fling himself on the ground over and over, but he would happily embarrass himself if it meant Yagi would stay. "Yeah! I'm, uh, working on front rolls. I think I need to do something different... I know it's not supposed to be comfortable, but I feel like I'm banging my shoulder harder than I should."

Yagi sat down on a pile of nearby tires. "Well, show me, I'll see if there's anything you can improve."

Izuku did a double take. "Wait, you know about this kind of stuff too?"

"What, safety rolls? Everyone should know how to do them. They should teach them in school. Here, show me what you've learned! Don't be shy!"

Izuku frowned. It had been strange enough that Yagi knew so much about strength training. But then again, it made a little more sense after what Izuku had learned about him on this beach. This stuff was the only kind of power a Quirkless person could have.

(He still felt kind of giddy, to actually know another Quirkless person. If Yagi could be who he was, and be Quirkless too, then maybe being Quirkless wasn't so bad after all.)

He obediently sprung into the roll, feeling even more awkward than usual. Yagi tilted his head. "Hm. Okay. You're posting your elbow... that might be your problem."

"I'm what?"

"Ah... locking the joint." Yagi held out one long arm to demonstrate. "If you try that on concrete, you could break something. Try to keep it slightly bent."

So Izuku did, making an extra effort not to just fling his arms out rigidly in front of him when he started the roll, and the movement felt a lot smoother. He hadn't realized how much momentum was jamming up in his elbow and shoulder until it wasn't anymore.

Yagi smiled. "See! Better, right?"

They spent the rest of the time oscillating between Yagi reviewing the various rolls and breakfalls Izuku had learned, and Izuku trying to sneakily convince Yagi to demonstrate the moves himself. Seeing those impossibly long limbs tucked into a side roll would be amazingly impressive, and probably also hilarious. But Yagi just laughed off his attempts to goad him into it. Apparently Izuku would be the only person looking goofy today.

On the turn of the hour, Izuku's phone alarm went off to let him know it was time to get home. Yagi's phone went off at the same time—the little commercial jingle noise Izuku was very familiar with at this point. He felt a patter of anticipation. That timing could work.

"Time to go home?" Yagi asked.

"Yeah," Izuku replied. He trotted over to the rusty car, grabbing his water bottle (which he kept with him obsessively, now) and his backpack, then hurried back to where Yagi was extricating himself from his nest of tires. "Um, do you... want to stop by? Mom always has tea ready after school, and you could get something to eat too."

Yagi stretched. "I wouldn't want to impose..." He sounded hesitant. Izuku kept quiet—please do, please impose—and was rewarded when Yagi filled in the silence. "...I can at least walk you home, though."

That was more than good enough. "Thanks," Izuku said, and couldn't help the pleased half-smile that snuck onto his face.

Yagi headed forward into the little trail that cut through the trash heaps towards the beach entrance, and Izuku followed behind. "I really do need to drag you back to the sports center if you plan to keep this up," Yagi remarked. "You could break a shoulder if you roll wrong. And you can't keep hiding out here! A hero can't be afraid of public scrutiny!"

"I know..." Izuku grumbled, skirting around a tangled pile of netting. "But... it's kind of nice to have my own little place. And when we can't make it to the gym, I can get a great workout just by clearing stuff out of my spot."

Yagi looked around at the towering mesas of rusty junk. "...That is true, isn't it. Cleaning out all this garbage would make for wonderful strength training."

"Yeah... doing real things, like you said. You know that patch of sand only used to be like three meters across when I first found it? All the rest I cleared out myself!" It was downright spacious now, and he was proud of himself. He even combed all the sharp pieces out of the sand using an old rake that he found nearby. Well, except for the one piece that he accidentally combed out using his forearm, but nobody had to know about that. Sports wraps were great inventions.

An increasingly unnerving spark of enthusiasm was growing in Yagi's eyes. "I wonder how much you could clear out before the entrance exam. I bet you could get this whole beach clean if you put your mind to it!"

Izuku raised his eyebrows. "I, uh... I don't know if I could do that much..."

"Nonsense! You just need to believe in yourself!" The idea seemed to have Yagi vibrating with energy. But no matter how much Izuku believed in himself, the fact was that there were entire cars dumped out here. He doubted any one person could handle it all. Well, unless they had an incredible Quirk...

"...Why doesn't someone like Mt. Lady take care of this stuff, anyway?" he mused. Those entire cars would be nothing to her. Like picking up crumpled soda cans off the side of the road.

Then the offhand idea rebounded like a boomerang and smacked back into his head, and he opened his mouth in surprise as it hit. "Really, though! Why doesn't she? I bet she could clean up this whole place in a day!" Now that he thought about it, there were a lot of Quirks that could make short work of the mess around them. And yet, as long as he remembered, the beach had always been like this. Everyone complained about what an eyesore it was, but nobody stepped up to do something about it.

"I bet she could!" Yagi said. "But, it's not as simple as just picking things up."

Now he was the one vibrating with energy. "Why not? What's stopping her?"

"Well... for example, she would need to apply for permits to use her Quirk for a project like this. She might need to get a permit to close the road, too. Any damage that happened while she worked would be her responsibility."

"And..." he thunked one fist on a dilapidated fridge as they passed it, "...look at what's around us. People illegally dump here because it's expensive to take these things to a landfill. She would have to sort and process it, or pay someone to... and she would need to cover transportation costs. The government would never allow her to use her Quirk on city streets just to carry some garbage."

They emerged from the valley of trash, passing the old dilapidated washing machine. Ahead of them, wide sand-covered concrete stairs led up back to the walkway and the rest of the city.

Yagi looked back at the sprawling mess that covered the coastline. The red tape talk seemed to have flushed all the life out of him, and now he just looked tired and worn down. Izuku briefly wanted to blurt out that he'd clean the beach himself, even though it was a completely crazy idea, just to see if it would bring that excited spark back into his eyes.

"I'm sure there are many heroes who would like to fix this place," Yagi finally said, "but I'm afraid it's just not something that would be worth the cost to them."

Izuku wrinkled his nose at that answer, then let out a little huff, just to emphasize exactly what he thought of it. Yagi looked down at him with a bemused smile.

"You seem displeased," he remarked. Izuku scowled.

"Being a hero isn't supposed to be about doing things that are worth the cost..." he said. "Being a hero is about doing the right thing, not... trying to make a buck." None of Yagi's explanations seemed like a good enough reason to just give up. Mt. Lady—or any number of other heroes—could handle this whole beach in a single day, he was sure of it. They could take the time to do photoshoots and play catch at a festival, but couldn't take the time to do something genuinely good? Because it wasn't profitable?

Yagi seemed taken aback. "That's... not how I meant it," he said. "Please, don't think poorly of them. Heroes want to do the right thing. It's just..." he made a circular motion with one hand, absently. "Even for heroes... there's only so much they can give to others before they have nothing left."

"But that's what the commission programs are for," Izuku pointed out. "So they get rewarded for helping, so they can afford to keep doing it."

"That's correct," Yagi said, "But... the programs aren't perfect. It's not an easy thing, to translate the value of a good deed into money. There are still many things that aren't compensated properly... things like this."

Izuku frowned. That kind of made sense, in an unpleasant way. "And someone like Mt. Lady has it harder than other heroes too, doesn't she..." he murmured. Even though she was doing good work, there was still talk about her agency being in the red. A lot of people called her shameless for all the product promotion she was doing, but she probably needed the money. Heroes with Gigantification Quirks are disproportionately assigned the most destructive villains and disasters, and take on much higher property damage overhead than other heroes as a result. Because of this, the license lapse rate for heroes with these Quirks is nearly two times higher than average...

Yagi nodded. "Yes, that's right. Many heroes get less compensation than they need in general. The commission system still hasn't accounted for every factor out there. It's difficult, and they have to guard against corruption every step of the way."

They made their way down the coastal walkway, the trash-piled beach on one side of them and the cramped buildings of the city on the other. "More than anything, I wish things weren't this way," Yagi said. He looked pained as he said it. Whether it was physical pain or something else, Izuku couldn't tell.

"But the fact is... right now, our society, the structure of it... it isn't built to reward people for having altruism, not directly. It rewards people for having money. The hero system tries to bridge that gap, and it's getting better and better... but there's still a long way to go. Even the most successful heroes constantly struggle to help as much as they wish they could."

Izuku fell silent. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear. Heroes weren't supposed to have to ration out their good deeds like some kind of grocery budget. They were supposed to be the people who could help no matter what. No boundaries, no limits.

Then he squinted in sudden suspicion. "Wait, if cleaning the beach would be too expensive for a whole hero agency, what made you think I could do anything about it?"

Yagi looked briefly surprised, then a familiar, amused little smile appeared on his face. "Oh, well, I'd chip in and help if you wanted to try, of course."

"...with the giant pool of funds you have lying around for random recycling projects?"

The smile got wider. "Yes! How did you know about that? I was sure I kept that account under wraps."

He had such a weird sense of humor. It sent Izuku off-kilter every time. But he was finally starting to be able to keep his footing instead of falling on his metaphorical face every time Yagi turned that sly grin on him. Was he actually learning how to banter? Maybe there was still hope for him.

"You should chip in and help her, then," Izuku said.

"Hm, maybe I will..." Yagi replied. "If she cleans up that trash heap, you won't be able to hide in it any longer."

They left the walkway, turning the corner that led down towards Izuku's apartment, only to see the upcoming path blocked off with a SIDEWALK CLOSED PLEASE USE OTHER SIDE sign. Beyond was a bus stop bench that had been crushed comically flat, cracking the concrete all around it like a sheet of ice. Speaking of Mt. Lady... she'd gotten in a scuffle with a particularly hard-to-stop bank robber here a few days ago. Her costume had soft, flexible soles—basically reinforced socks—to help her tread lightly, but even that couldn't save something if she stepped right on top of it.

"Ah, we should cross," Yagi said. But the words plinked off Izuku's head and fell to the ground, because—of course—in the last three months, the average number of Musutafu road repair requests have increased by 7%—a recent news report talking about insurance scuffles at her agency—

He pointed at the squashed bench. "It would be perfect for her!" he cried. "Mt. Lady's approval rating is on the floor right now, because she keeps breaking things whenever she fights... my mom's even complained that it's made her late for work a few times... if she cleaned up the beach, she could show that her Quirk is good for something besides wrecking stuff! People would love it!" He looked up at Yagi. "There's no price too high for good publicity, right?"

Yagi's eyes twinkled. "Now, see, that's an angle that could work."

"How would you even start organizing something like that?" Izuku asked, mostly to himself.

"Well—" Yagi was cut off by a chime from his pocket that immediately made Izuku's heart sink. That wasn't the commercial-jingle noise... it was the I-have-to-go-take-this noise. Yagi pulled out his phone and scanned it, the look of intent focus dawning on his face that always appeared when work called him away. Izuku wasn't sure whether he was happy or unhappy that Yagi never seemed dismayed to get a call.

No, scratch that, he was definitely unhappy. He hated that stupid phone. "You need to go?" he asked. Yagi's eyes shifted to him, then back to the screen, and Izuku felt a rush of resentment. Yagi needed to eat and then rest. What kind of awful employer made someone who coughed blood run around all over the city?

"I'm sorry," Yagi replied. "I'm glad I was able to see you today, even if it was only for a short while." He did look sorry. He smiled, but it was small and sad.

"Yeah, me too..." Izuku murmured. "...I missed you."

Yagi's strained smile got even more forlorn. "I missed you too. Let me know when you're doing practice again, and I'll try to come out." He reached down and ruffled Izuku's hair, then turned and hurried back the way they had come. Izuku had the sudden urge to chase him down, beg him to forget the phone, forget the work, come home and spend a while, even if it was just something pointless like watching TV, just don't leave...

But that would be stupid to do. Yagi was an adult; he had to work. So Izuku didn't say anything, just watched him go until he turned down another street.

It was dumb to feel upset. Yagi wasn't really gone; Izuku could get in touch any time over the phone. He shouldn't feel so off-kilter not knowing exactly when they'd see each other again.

But he did.

Yagi was able to make it to the sports center the next two times, and the second time, they were even able to lure him down to the ramen bar down the street after gym. Izuku quietly told himself that everything was fine and he was overthinking things and being clingy.

Meanwhile, the beach idea ate at him for the rest of the week. Cleaning out all that garbage would be a good publicity move. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure it could work. Why couldn't someone organize something like that?

He looked up the permits Yagi had talked about. There were more than a few, each one seeming to require two more, like some nightmarish bureaucratic hydra. He read up on the clauses that let heroes use their Quirks freely during natural disasters... but the beach wasn't actively endangering lives, just nearby property values, so it didn't apply. He looked up past cleanup and renovation projects that relied on heroes or other Quirk users. There were less than he expected to see. Even All Might wasn't an exception: he usually only cleaned up the aftermath of huge disasters, not anything like this.

The next time Yagi stopped by the beach, Izuku wasn't in his little training area. Instead, he was trekking up and down the coast with a top-down printout from a map program, eyeing the various piles of stuff and sometimes scrambling up on top of them to get a better view before marking numbers down on the corresponding section of the map.

"What are you doing up there?" Yagi called, looking up at where Izuku was perched on a jumble of broken televisions and office chairs.

"Volume!" Izuku said, showing off the map. "I'm trying to figure out how much stuff is out here. Roughly."

Yagi raised his brows. "You're really planning to get Mt. Lady onto this beach, aren't you?"

"I..." Having to answer the question directly made it ten times more intimidating. "I have no idea where to start? I don't even know if I could do anything. The beach has been like this forever... maybe there's a reason for that."

"From what I've seen," Yagi said, "A lot of these kinds of problems only last so long because people forget it could be any other way. Sometimes it just takes someone to remind them that things could be better than they are."

From this vantage point, Izuku could see the whole beach. The trash stretched on endlessly. "Do you think I could actually do something about it?" he asked.

"I still think you could clean up this place yourself, without a Quirk," Yagi said, then grinned at the look Izuku gave him. "...but maybe you don't have to. I don't know how much you could influence at her agency, realistically... but if they got the right information, and saw there was interest, they might decide to set something up."

"Then I want to try! And if it doesn't work out, then I'll do it myself." As if. He looked around, trying to find a way off the pile of garbage that wasn't too sharp.

"Ah, the lengths you kids will go in order to get out of good old-fashioned hard work..." Yagi reached up a hand, and Izuku grabbed it as he clambered down off the unsteady heap of junk. "I'm honestly terrible at anything that needs research. But I know some people who would have a better idea of what to do. Are you sure you'll have time on top of school and training?"

"Yeah!" Izuku said. "I... might have to spend less time on Hero Chat. People will have to get their All Might analysis posts somewhere else for a while, I guess."

"A true sacrifice." Yagi had a sardonic smile on his face, but then he glanced down at Izuku, and it changed into a fond one. "...I really do admire your initiative. It's a rare thing to see, nowadays. The world needs more people like you."

"I, uh, t-thanks..." Izuku clutched the map paper. It didn't feel like anything noble, more like he was just caught in the grip of an intriguing idea and wanted to see it through. But it felt good, to try and fix something broken. He'd spent a long time assuming nothing could change... until it did. Maybe that was why he could see the potential in things so clearly now.

"So how much have you mapped so far?" Yagi asked, leaning down. Izuku pointed out the places he'd already been, and they set off, finding creative ways to navigate the trash piles and debating over how tall they really were, talking about hero agencies and work proposals, scrambling away in a panic when Izuku accidentally triggered a small landslide of scrap metal and empty cans.

Once again, it was easier with someone else there to help. That much always seemed to be true.

Notes:

I wanted to get the beach stuff all done in a single chapter but I can't keep things concise. Sorry. Tune in next time to watch Izuku attempt to solve a few of the issues he discovered in this chapter.