Izuku, in general, didn't think much about his classes.
It wasn't that he disliked them; No, the classes were perfectly fine. He just didn't particularly like them either. They just kind of 'were.' Sit at his desk, listen to his teacher talk for an hour as he took notes and sneak in the occasional glance at his phone. The teacher might ask the class a question, but the same three students always answered, and Izuku wasn't one of them. So he just kept his head low, careful to avoid bringing anyone's attention to him, and everything would be fine. So his classes were… fine.
He didn't like gym, though.
"Pass, pass!"
"Over here, man!"
Tennis shoes scraped against the blacktop, and the basketball flew through the air, traveling between Izuku's classmates. The early afternoon sun shined down on them, and a distinct breeze blew past them, carrying the oh-so-faint scent of seasalt, and the much more potent smells of car exhaust and sweat. Despite the sun, Izuku felt chilly, and extremely uncomfortable in his sports uniform. Pale and boney, he was a stressed out skeleton in baggy basketball shorts, and he was acutely aware of the difference between himself and people like Kacchan, who sported sturdy figures and lean muscles.
Just thinking about how much of a twig he was made him sigh, and cast a glance towards the ground. He kept moving with the crowd across the court, as though to at least pretend he was trying, but always made sure to stay just far enough away that it would be unreasonable to pass him the ball. Well, it kind of already was, considering how much of a Deku he was. Izuku chased the crowd of boys back to his own side of the court, where he just stayed out of his classmate's way as they tried to get the ball back.
"Over here, dumbass!" Kacchan's voice stood out from the others, due to a mix of both how uniquely gruff it was for a middle schooler, and how uniquely angry he always sounded. "I'm gonna take a shot!"
"Bakugo, bro, we're on the wrong side of the court!" One of Kacchan's friends laughed, but passed it to the blonde anyway. "You seriously think you can do it?"
"You think I fuckin' can't?" Kacchan growled like a rabid dog, and sent his friend a murderous glare. "Don't you dare doubt me!"
"I ain't, I ain't-"
"Just watch!"
Izuku watched his friend, doubtful. He was strong, yeah, but he was also on the wrong side of the court and surrounded by the other team. He chewed on his lip, mentally taking notes.
Kacchan grinned viciously, a distinct and deadly level of concentration in his eyes. Even though he knew it wasn't directed at him, Izuku couldn't help but shrink back a bit, hiding at midcourt. The blonde wound his arm, as though preparing to throw a large, orange baseball, before pausing to gather his strength. He lobbed the ball with a single burst of explosive energy, his fingers sparking and propelling the ball forward, and up, and up…
And all the way to the other side of the court, into the net.
Cheers and swears broke out across the court, but Izuku couldn't help but let his jaw go slack, his wide eyes going back and forth between Kacchan and the ball.
"Bakugo!" A giant man yelled from several basketball courts away, nearly double Izuku's height and looking like an overweight gorilla shoved into a blue track three sized too small. "No quirks during P.E.! And fer the last time, work on yer form!"
"Ah, shut up, old man! I got it in, didn't I?" Kacchan flipped the man off, and several of the other students laughed like a pack of hyenas.
"I'm gonna talk to you after class, kid! And make sure to lose that attitude by then!" The coach shouted, pointing his clipboard at Kacchan and putting his hand on his hip. "Now keep playing!"
Kacchan snarled, but another student tossed a ball their direction, and the game continued. Just like before, Kacchan dominated the field, while Izuku avoiding the ball like the plague.
And really, Izuku already had too much to think about. He had never been good at basketball, and he wasn't going to get any better today anyway, so he instead put his effort into looking like he was playing, at least enough to not attract Coach Goya's attention, and let his mind ponder more serious issues. Specifically, the one that had left a long, thin scab on the left side of his neck.
He had felt people staring at it all day; after all, it wasn't exactly subtle, covered by a large bandage. Stretching from just below his jaw to right above his adam's apple, it could've killed him had she cut any deeper. And when he had gotten home yesterday, his neck wrapped in a bandage provided by a certain concerned 7/11 worker, Mom had gone into a full blown panic. He told her that he had just fallen on a sharp rock, but, as always, she saw through his lies. Not that it was a very good one in the first, even he had to admit. Guilt clawed at his stomach as he recalled the lie. But now she had a scheduled meeting with the principal, wanting to discuss exactly how his school dealt with bullying. He had begged her not to make a big deal about it, but when mama bear made a decision, that was that. He sighed, his tone tinted melancholy, as he watched the other students from inside his bottle. They were laughing, playing, having fun, and he was just… not. It wasn't their fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Or, if it was, it was his own.
And besides, aside from his mom, he had another big issue, that only seemed bigger the more he thought about it. Specifically, who was Toga, and… why did she do that? The thought lingered at the back of his mind, sometimes peeking into the forefront just long enough to flip his stomach inside out and make his mouth go dry.
She said it was just training, but it didn't all add up, not really. The stabbing him part, he guessed he could understand. It forced him into a situation where he had to think differently than usual, at least. But when she drank his blood..?
He shivered, but it definitely wasn't from the wind.
There were two options. Either she didn't enjoy consuming blood, but was an amazing actor, and wanted to scare him half to death. If that's the case, she certainly succeeded. Or the other option: she did enjoy drinking it. The first situation didn't make a lot of sense, because she simply didn't need to drink his blood. It didn't achieve anything she hadn't achieve already, except for giving him an extremely disconcerting memory.
So, by process of elimination, it meant that she found pleasure in… ingesting erythrocyte. That was a good turn of phrase. Impersonal, scientific. It sounded far less terrifying than the other options.
But that was ignoring one huge variable, one that he just couldn't forget: her quirk. If her desire to suck his blood had some relation to her quirk, than the potential reasons were endless. Blood-related quirks, while not common, were far from rare, and there were even a few pro heroes that had them, like Vlad King and Blood Match.
So, should he really be so quick to draw conclusions? For all he knew, she could've just been aiming to help him with whatever her quirk might be. She'd never told him, so he simply had no way of knowing. He needed to ask her, for safety's sake. She might be particularly susceptible to things such as blood-borne illnesses, and he wasn't sure if he was carrying an-
"Deku!" Izuku was shocked out of his thoughts by Kacchan's angry shouting. "Pay attention, dammit!"
"Wha-?" The green hair boy jerked his head up at his friend's calling, only to barely catch the ball flying at his face.
What? Why did he have the ball? Why did they give him the ball? No one ever gave him the ball!
The entire group suddenly swarmed him, his previously empty spot at midcourt now filled to the brim with rollicking students.
"Pass it, man!"
"Over here!"
"Dude, I'm open!"
Uh, uh, n-now what? Who was on his team? And who was the most open? Who could get to the goal fastest and with the least resistance? He had no idea, but-
"Just pass the ball already!"
He didn't have time. The hoop! He could take a shot! That was the safest move. His gaze shot towards the hoop, trying to figure out how much power he'd need to throw the ball with.
What had Kacchan done earlier? He was on the total other side of the court, so if he did it right, it should work from this distance. He furrowed his eyebrows, recalling the images of what Kacchan did earlier, and mimicking it as perfectly as he could. Lean back, focus the power into that one throw, and…
Release!
The ball went flying! But… it was nowhere near the hoop. A few meters off, both coming up short and going too far left. It bounced, and then went out of bounds. He felt his stomach drop, a bowl filling with liquid dread.
"What the hell was that?" Kacchan pushed his way past the other students, his eyes smoldering coals. "I said pass!"
Some of the other students looked on, some confused by Izuku's 'pass,' others amused by the scene in front of them. God, he could feel them watching. He could feel their judging eyes, mercilessly burning into him as they contained their laughter to small, impish smiles.
Izuku's face was on fire. "Well, I, uh, I thought I could-"
"You could what?" Kacchan cut him off, getting in his face. He grit his teeth, preparing to spew out more insults, before just rolling his eyes and backing off. "Forget it. You're always like this. Fuckin' Deku."
'Fucking deku?' 'Deku this, deku that!' Yeah, so what if he was a deku? Izuku's muscles tensed, and he squeezed his fists until his knuckles went white. Kacchan never passed to anyone, did he? No, he would just throw it from the other side of the court, just to prove how much better than he was than everyone else. Yeah, Izuku understood, he was a deku and Kacchan was a hero in the making. But… but it made him so angry! What right did Kacchan have to treat him this way? What right did he have to treat anyone that way?
A pair of yellow eyes flashed in his mind, hungry and feline.
You need to become a wolf!
"Y-" Izuku spoke up, weak but sharp, like a blade of razor grass. "You're always like this too, you know! Always thinking you can push people around!"
Kacchan paused, and looked over his shoulder, glowering at the boy. "What did you say?"
The fire in Izuku's belly had a tub of ice water poured over it, and his hands started shaking. He shrunk under the blonde's fiery glare, a snail attempting to hide from a hawk by curling up in its shell. Oh god, why did he say that? He should've just kept quiet! He should've just kept his head down! It didn't matter what Toga said, neither puppies nor wolves could survive a firestorm.
"I, uh, well-"
"I said, what the fuck did you just say?" Kacchan popped his knuckles, his palms sparking and his teeth bared.
Izuku's mouth tasted sick and bitter, and his eyes refused to look at anything other than the blacktop. "... N-nothing…"
"Better be." Kacchan sneered, and turned away, stalking towards the other students. A few of the other joined him, laughing and rolling their eyes.
"Dude, ya don't need to be so harsh; you know he can't do jack shit."
"Yeah, he's just a deku. Don't get so worked up."
"But seriously, who passed 'em the ball? That was pretty stupid."
Izuku listened, frozen in place and shaking. He wasn't a wolf. He couldn't be a wolf. His breathing was shaky, and he could feel tears rising, burning his eyes. What had he been thinking? He couldn't stand up to anyone with a quirk, let alone someone like Kacchan. He choked back a whimper, and stormed off the court. He didn't know where he was going. Just 'away.' Somewhere where they weren't laughing at him, where he hadn't been an idiot in front of the entire class.
Eventually, he just sat in the shade, nestled into a ball between a bush and the chain link fence at the edge of the basketball courts. He could hear the other students' shouts and cheers, but he didn't watch. He didn't want to. He didn't want to see them doing what he knew he couldn't. So instead, he focused on the dead, half rotted leaves left over from winter.
He was bound to be less than worthless as a hero. Just look at the difference between him and Kacchan. Even when he was closer to the goal, even when he copied the boy as best as he could, he still couldn't do it. That really all he was, wasn't it? A poor imitation. Everyone else knew it, and treated him how an imitation deserved. Toga would probably only toy with him for a few weeks, before getting bored and casting him aside. It only made sense. After all, what was there in him that she could like? There were bound to be a dozen other, better versions of him out there, ones with quirks, ones who could help people. Ones Toga's training could actually help. After all, he couldn't even figure out the answer to Toga's question, even after thinking about it all day.
He wanted to cry so much, the salty tears burning the insides of his eyes, but they just wouldn't leave. The thoughts wouldn't leave either, circling again and again in his head. The bell rang at one point, signalling the end of the period, but Izuku didn't move. What was the point of going to the next class? It be the same, whether he was there or not. The same three students would answer every question. The teacher would drone on, lecturing with the enthusiasm of a dead fish. And even if he went, he'd just be a shadow sitting behind a desk, praying not to be noticed.
Should he have not stepped away from that ledge? Saved everyone the trouble? He still could, really. He could write another note, and maybe it could actually be a bit organized this time. The last one was a mess. His heart throbbed with a dull pain, an open wound inside his chest.
Izuku groaned, and pushed himself up, stretching his stiff muscles. They felt like hydraulic pistons that hadn't been used in years, every movement requiring concerted effort. He didn't want to go to class. There wasn't any point, not really. None of them had even noticed he wasn't there. Or, if they had, they apparently didn't care enough to look for him. A weary scowl came to his face as he started walking towards the gate, past the basketball courts.
Should he really be surprised? He wasn't important to them. Izuku was the class clown. Wait, no, not the class clown. That made it sound like he was trying his hardest to make everyone laugh. He choked back a broken sob, and wiped the snot from his nose. No, he wasn't the clown. He was the seal, a creature of the sea shoved onto the land and forced to do tricks it didn't understand. Balance a ball on his nose, clap his fins, and just pray not to be whipped.
He was just bad entertainment, no matter what Toga said. One homeless girl's voice was not enough to stave off the cacophony that was everyone else's laughter.
He paused, looking at one of the basketballs still on the blacktop. No one had put it away, probably. Izuku sighed, and shook his head. At who? Himself? The person who forgot to put it away? It didn't really matter, he supposed. It was just a useless action by a worthless boy as he cried about his pointless dreams.
He scooped up the ball, ready to put it away, but paused for a moment, just to look at the basketball hoop.
Maybe, just once more..?
Izuku carefully retraced his steps, each one measured and deliberate as he triangulated where he had been earlier. Here? No, another step to the left. A bit forward, too. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back, trying to recall the exact feeling of his stance. Spread his feet, and focus on the goal.
What were his issues last time? One: too little power. It fell a few meters short of the goal. Two: It went too far left. It made sense; he was right handed, and so the spin on the ball, alongside his poor aim, meant that he wouldn't have scored, even if he had put in more power.
The scientist in him considered these points, and adjusted to compensate. A few aim a few degrees to the right; use more strength. Trial one of… well, however many it took. He shifted his weight, and threw the ball with all the strength he could muster.
And it missed the goal completely.
Trial two.
Three.
Four.
Every time, it was the same result. His aim was getting better, but he simply wasn't able to gather enough strength to throw the ball far enough. He was just bashing his head against a wall, not getting anywhere.
He scowled, and bit his lip. It didn't make any sense, now that he thought about it. While Kacchan certainly had more muscle mass than Izuku, it just couldn't be enough to compensate for throwing the ball from the other side of the court. The amount of control and strength to aim the ball and have it fly in a proper parabola just couldn't be garnered from one arm. Izuku fiddled with the ball, tossing it into the air and catching it again as he considered the quandary. How had Kacchan dealt with it?
Suddenly, the image of the boy's sparking palm came to mind.
His quirk.
Of course.
How had he forgotten about a factor so simple? Izuku clicked his tongue, and internally chided himself. He had even seen Kacchan do it before, using his combustive powers to both guarantee his place as the class's best pitcher, and drive Coach Goya mad. It was such a small burst of energy, barely comparable to the boy's more violent moments, but it had to have provided just the boost needed to reach the hoop.
In many ways, Izuku was impressed by his friend yet again; Kacchan not only was powerful, but had such adept control of his quirk that he could implement it in clever, and subtle ways like this. But another part of him realized he had hit a roadblock, that being he didn't have Kacchan quirk. He clenched his fist, and leered at the ball, as though it was the rubber thing's fault.
Simply put, no matter how perfectly he mimicked Kacchan's form, he would never be able to catch up.
It was always like this, wasn't it? Always. He could run himself ragged, but Kacchan would always be a dozen paces ahead of him. He was weak, and no matter how hard he worked, there was nothing he could do about it. He was inferior. It was that simple. He grit his teeth, and let slip a guttural growl, the sound of a lonely wolf on a dark, winter night.
Izuku hated it.
He hated how pointless his struggling was.
How useless his suffering was.
How unfair the world was.
Izuku glared at the hoop, and his grip on the ball tightened. No matter what he did, he could never become a hero. He just couldn't. Because no matter how much he trained, how much he studied, how much he ran himself to exhaustion, he simply could not do what they did. They had a quirk, and he did not. He couldn't replicate them, because he just didn't have the same tools at his disposal.
And then it clicked.
You're stuck thinking about it from the perspective of a hero.
It was such a simple realization, he felt stupid for not understanding it before. He had been trying for almost fifteen years, but it took him a crazy girl with a knife to understand.
He couldn't be a pro hero, not like the others at least. Because the foundation for them becoming a hero was, at its most bear, them exploiting their quirk to do things that others couldn't. So if he was always trying to copy them, despite being quirkless….
No wonder the entire structure imploded on itself.
He stared at nothing, almost in shock from the idea. He didn't need to train his body and try to play catch up; it simply wouldn't work. They were all stronger and faster, and nothing he could do would change that. He needed to hone the tools he had that they don't.
The tools that were uniquely his, that no one else could copy or steal.
And all he had was his mind.
)ooOoo(
Thirty-two.
It took him until trial number thirty-two. But he had done it.
And then he kept doing it. He changed his position on the court, distance from the hoop, spin on the ball, and form, nailing it down to a science. It wasn't until the last bell rang that he realized he had been on the court for three hours, running test after test to determine exactly what he needed to do.
Izuku knew it was just a game. He knew he had skipped class, and he'd have to face the consequences. He knew that he was just learning what the others had known for years.
But that didn't do anything to dissuade the determined smile on his face. It was infectious, really, and not a conscious choice. He might have been doing something easy, but he did it.
And he did it on his own.
He snatched his bag off of his desk, hightailing it out of his classroom before the teacher could stop him, and speed walked down the hallway, attempting to hide the stupidly wide smile on his face with his books.
Head down, no eye contact, stick to the sides of the hallways. Behaviour that had been drilled into him for years, strategies to stay a grayman. But even doing all of that, he was positively glowing, an odd mix of giddy join tempered by stern satisfaction flowing through his veins. He slipped past the crowd of students, and rushed out of the schoolyard gates, buzzing with newfound energy.
He couldn't wait to tell Toga! Would she be just as excited? He figured out the answer to her question, after all. But what if he got it wrong? It made sense, but perhaps, just like before, his logic is inherently flawed. He couldn't be certain; any level of thoughtless confidence would only lead to him failing.
Despite these thoughts, Izuku couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Even if he was wrong… At least he was getting there. He had always felt trapped, suspended in a vacuum as he watched the world change around him. But now, the bottle that he had always been trapped in… It had a crack in it.
In the past few hours, the sky had become cloudy, draping the world in shades of pale white and blue. But Izuku didn't mind, not really. He appreciated a bit of a cool wind, actually. It carried the crisp scents of pollen and grass, not to mention was heavy with gathering humidity. After so many warm, sunny days in a row, a chilly afternoon just felt right. It made him think of rainy spring days where he'd play inside, saving Mom from countless villains and disasters. His smile became softer at that, a colored with heartfelt fondness rather than pride and satisfaction.
"Ooh, I like that smile!" Toga popped her head out from behind the school gate, and Izuku barely stifled a scream. "Why're you so happy?'
"O-oh, Toga…" Izuku wheezed, clutching his heart. "Please don't scare me like that…"
"Oopsy!" Toga smiled gleefully, not sorry in the least. "I just saw you, and couldn't contain myself! So, what'dya do today?"
"Well, I, uh, I think I figured it out." Izuku attempted to calm himself, but his rising blush did little to help. He sped past the girl, his arms and legs stiff, in a desperate effort to hide his cherry-colored face. "T-the answer to your question, that is!"
"Oh, really?" Toga quickly caught up to Izuku, falling into her habitual movements of circling around him. A lovesick blush spread across her face, and Izuku's heart skipped a beat.
That blush.
It was just like yesterday.
Just like when she had the knife to his throat.
His stomach felt like it had just been thoroughly churred up, and whoever did it threw in a few pills of alka seltzer just to be safe. A complicated, chaotic mix of fear and… excitement? He shook his head, and averted his eyes away from the blonde. That couldn't be right. Shouldn't be right. But it was still there, a sickly-sweet feeling that refused to let go.
"So, so, tell me," Toga spun around the green-haired boy, playfully twirling a set of earbuds around her finger as she watched him with a curious, feline gaze. "What's the answer?"
"Oh, well…" They made their way down the street, populated by passing students, and Izuku pushed his other thoughts out of his mind. Focus! Just focus on your training! And stop with the… weird thoughts. He was just going to call it that. "I think what you meant was, and, uh, tell me if I'm wrong… The reason I'm having issues is because I'm trying to copy what other heroes are doing, rather than, well…"
"... Be yourself!" Toga completed his sentence for him, and bumped shoulders with him, her face bright red. "It's hard to be someone else, you know? And doing that just doesn't fit you!" She casted a glace in front of them, spotting the 7/11 from yesterday, and looked back towards Izuku. "Wanna get a snack?"
"Again? I, uh, I guess so." Izuku nodded, and followed her into the convenience store. The girl sat behind the counter, and glanced up at them, before giving Izuku a sheepish smile.
It almost seemed like a rerun of yesterday; Toga snarfed down another plum popsicle, while Izuku quietly nibbled on a candy bar, watching out the window. The cherry trees shifted in the wind, their limbs clacking together, and the occasional car drove past, bound for some unknown destination. But Izuku focused on the students, his eyes following the boys and girls in black uniforms as they made their way home. He saw a group of three, laughing and chatting as they passed by, and he felt his heart ache.
"Are you jealous of them?" Toga's sickly yellow eyes watched him closely, her childish smile an odd compliment to the analytical light in her eyes. Her gaze was locked on him, a camera recording.
Izuku frowned, and looked away. "Well… no, I don't think." That was a lie. He knew it was a lie. But it wasn't his place to force his issues on Toga, was it?
"I am."
Izuku's head shot up, just to see the girl staring wistfully out the window. It was… an odd expression to see. It didn't seem natural. No, that wasn't right. It just seemed… jarring. It was like seeing a tropical bird shivering in the frigid cold of the arctic.
"Why?" A simple question, but the only thing that seemed right to say.
Toga brought a finger to her chin, and took a moment to collect her words as her eyes wandered. But then, she just smiled, but it was plastic and fake. "The same reason as you, I think."
… What did that mean? Izuku stared at her, trying to scrape up any hints as to her meaning, but the her smiling mask wiped away even the barest trace of her true meaning. He opened his mouth to prod for more information, but she beat him to the punch.
"So, since you figured out your homework…" She shoved her hand into a cardigan pocket, rummaging around for something and changing the topic with the subtlety of a three-legged cat covered in cowbells. "I wanted to give you a present!"
"A present?" Izuku cocked his head, but leaned forward, curious.
"Mm-hm!" She nodded her head excitedly, almost like a child. "A gift for little Izu-kun! To help your training!" She pulled out a thin cardboard box, and shoved it into his hands.
Izuku peered at the box for a moment, as though it were some sort of prank, and glanced between the gift and the giver. Just longer than his hand, it was surprisingly heavy, and wrapped with a bright pink bow that seemed wholly out of place wrapped around the dull brown cardboard. He gingerly shifted it around, uncertain of its nature, and felt the distinct heat of Toga's gaze lingering over him. Why did she get him a gift? He glanced up to find Toga smiling, enthusiastically watching.
"Come on, open it, open it!"
"Oh, uh, s-sure…" Izuku's mouth refused to function properly, nervousness and embarrassment fusing together into one tense, face-reddening emotion. He carefully tugged at the bow, disarming a bomb, and slid open the cardboard cover to reveal the box's contents.
First, he was mildly confused. He plucked the gift out of the box, shifting the cool metal object around his palm. A handle? There was a button, actually. He pressed it, and almost dropped it as long, thin blade sprung from the black handle.
"Wait, a-a knife?" He held it as though it might bite him, his shocked eyes travelling between the razor-like blade and the cat-like girl. Even he knew it was a stupid question, but what else was he supposed to say?
"Uh-huh!" Toga gave a wolfish smile, and leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. "I thought it could match mine! Kinda like how friends get matching phone decorations, you know?"
"Yeah, but…" Did friends do that? Izuku stared at the blade, his expression coated with layers of worry and uncertainty. They did, probably. He thought he had seen it in TV shows once or twice, but he honestly had no idea. And he was pretty certain that, even if that was normal, having matching knives was not.
Then again…
He fiddled with the knife a bit more, adjusting his grip until the handle fit comfortably in his hand, and looked at the blond, makeup-doused girl in front of him. This girl had attacked him in a back alley, drank his blood, and was almost certainly homeless. Did the standards of normality even apply to her?
And…
… Looking into her yellow eyes, the way they sparkled as she watched him, the way his heart skipped a beat when she smiled…
… Did the standards of normality even matter?
A/N: Evening, all! So, I hope that, after SEVEN chapters, this plot is finally tightening up. Kinda. Hopefully, from this point the number of chapters consisting of people talking and being depressed will go down. Maybe throw in a training montague or two, though you guys will have to do that, cause I DO NOT have the budget. Regardless, I'll try and get the next chapter out soon!
(Question: I've noticed a lot of people do the "such-and-such series does not belong to me" thing, but… Do I need to bother? Like, I'm writing in english on a fanfiction site, do I look like Kohei Horikoshi?)
With only the worst of intentions,
Imp the Nefarious
ChildishGuestino: I apologize to neglecting to describe Augur! I'll be certain to the next time he appears!
Healthcare: That's a good song; I approve of this selection of song as ambient sound while reading that chapter. Actually, it might be cool to tell you an accompanying song for every scene I write. Maybe through in some 30's style techno-jazz for scenes involving the Augur, or something. About Toga, she wouldn't live in a knife factory for the knives; she can proudly say that all of her knives are, in fact, 100% organic. Now it's up for you to figure out what that means. And, good to know the technical stuff is coming out well! Thanks!
Lovelydragonfly: *new yorker accent* I'm workin' on it, ok buddy? Sheesh. But, don't worry, I'm getting there! It'll just take a bit until the two break each other in.
Sewrtyuiop: Ah yes, his first "love mark;" little Izu-kun just lost knife virginity. Well, kinda; it was only foreplay, really. And, ooh boy, will Izuku learn how unhinged she is; that's gonna be the fun part. Look forward to it.
Some Asshole: Ok, so whenever I get a review, FFN emails me the message; I just learned that these emails can be cut off if the message is too long. *chuckles* But, in all honesty, reviews like this feel great to read. After all, it means someone cares enough about this to think about what will happen! However, as cruel as this may be, I will not tell you which are right and which are wrong; I gotta keep ya guessin' after all! I will just say this one thing: Augur and Tsuruko are not, at any point, going to have a romantic relationship. Sorry to crush that ship right out of the port. But, Augur is in his late 40's, and Tsuruko, who is in her mid 20's, is essentially a daughter to him. This isn't content to be covered in my story, but the Augur is essentially a fatherly figure and close friend, to such a point that he's unable to even really see her in a sexual or "womanly" light.