Himiko enjoyed hot showers.

The way the hot water hit her back, the way her muscles loosened and how she could feel the grime being washed off her skin. And, above all, the steam. She loved the way it filled the room, wrapping around her and filling her lungs. It was a thick, wet blanket that engulfed her but didn't even touch her. It sunk into her skin, relaxing her stiff muscles, and filled her mouth with the taste of hot humidity. And while the hissing of the shower filled the room, she could sing along to a song in her head she almost knew the lyrics to, letting all of her worries slip from her mind.

For a moment, she let her mind be silent, not a single thing distracting her from the way the water hit her back.

… It was nice.

If she stayed any longer, she might fall back asleep.

Himiko stretched and groaned, turning off the shower and plucking up her towel. She took a step out and, as she began drying herself, remembered another reason she liked steam.

While the Midoriya's bathroom wasn't particularly large, it had a tall mirror across from the sink, not too unlike the one in Aunt Iku's apartment. It was the full body sort that almost stretched from floor to ceiling, the type Himiko could imagine herself standing in front of if she wanted to see how a new set of clothes looked. It wasn't fancy or amazing, without a frame or any lights, but it was well kept, thanks to Himiko's list of chores, and it let her see her whole body.

So, Himiko was thankful that the steam fogged it up. She leaned forwards, rubbing away just enough of the steam so that she could see her grinning face.

She quickly went through her routine, tossing on her school uniform and pinning up her hair. Himiko actually liked the winter uniform, with it's cute little skirt and long sleeved jacket. She would've liked it more if it wasn't black, maybe a light blue or even green would've been nicer, and she liked her cardigan more than the school's button up. But overall, she adored it. One thing she wasn't particularly looking forward to was the switch to the spring uniform. She knew it was almost march, and the snow was starting to melt, but if she could, she'd stay in the long sleeved winter uniform all year.

"And… there!" With a last flick of her mascara, Himiko leaned back and purred with content. Her makeup was a mess, as usual, but just the process of putting it on was fun. She'd figure out how to do it properly someday, after she finally learned how to fix all of her other issues. But this was good enough for now! She nodded to no one in particular, and left the restroom, crossing over to the closed door across the hall.

She energetically rapped her knuckles against the door, disrupting the morning silence of the Midoriya household. "Good morning, Izu-kuuun!"

There was the creaking of bedsprings, and a faint groan. But, after a few moments, there was nothing but silence.

Himiko's grin flickered, and a bit of worry slipped into her eyes.

She knew what to expect.

But that didn't make it any easier.

"Come on, Izu-kun…" A subdued smile was carried on her voice as she tenderly pushed open the door. "... Let's get breakfast ready…"

Nothing in the dark room moved.

For a moment, Himiko's forced cheeriness just hung in the air, bright and happy in spite of the room's dead silence. But, as the silence stretched on, without any form of reaction, Himiko's smile died a bit.

He was doing it again.

And she hated it.

Izu-kun's room was normally extremely clean. Even if the boy left one or two things out of place, he always managed to keep things organized and in good order, almost as though each and every object in his room was bound to a particular location. Himiko had no idea how he did it, with her own area always being a mess that she had to spend a day digging up and cleaning every few weeks. It was two totally different lifestyles, and really, it fit the two perfectly.

But at the moment, Izu-kun's room look like Himiko had been living in it.

Himiko's heart tightened a bit.

With almost inhuman precision, she crept across the dark room, lithely stepping around the scattered junk. Wadded up clothes, haphazardly built stacks of books, even his laptop, dozens of things that Izu-kun set down and simply never picked up. It was a mess, one completely uncharacteristic of Izu-kun. A deep, worried frown formed on Himiko's face.

"Izu-kun…" She reached the bed, concern in her voice as she looked at the crumpled ball of blanket on the bed. She reached out, running her fingers through the knotted mess of green hair that was poking out. "Time to wake up…"

The pile shuffled again, and there was another groan, this one long and sore as the boy untangled his limbs. His movements were slow and stiff, like an old, unused inflatable filling up for the first time in years. And after what seemed like several minutes, Izu-kun sat up, pushing off the thick comforter.

"G-good morning, Himiko." He spoke quietly, his voice as smooth as sandpaper and his eyes as lively as a rotten fish. His gaze shifted back and forth, but it never looked up, and it never looked at Himiko.

Himiko rubbed her forehead against his, trying her best to keep the smile on her face as she half-whispered. "How'dya sleep?"

"I, uh…" For a moment, he doesn't respond, a dark haze in his eyes as he slowly clears his mind of its sleepy fog. "... Not well. I stayed up really late reading again."

She wasn't surprised, not really. It was like asking how the burnt food she made tasted good. She already knew how it tasted. She could tell just by looking at it. But it was just common courtesy.

In these past two weeks, anything resembling a sleep schedule had simply disappeared from Izu-kun's life. She would see him up at all hours of the night, or asleep at random points during the day. And with that, any sense of order or purpose in his life seemed to have gone up in smoke. It wasn't like he did nothing; Reading, researching, jotting things down in his notebooks. But it had no drive, no energy. He always had energy. It was what she loved about him. He was always pushing forward, even if it seemed pointless. But now…

Well, it was as though, without the ability to push forward, he had started to drown. Himiko's heart clenched, but she didn't let it show on her face.

It scared her. It really did. She could see it in his eyes; he was coming apart at the seams. An old doll left in the back of the closet as the world passed by, his only company the mice that pick at his strings. Deep in those dark green eyes, she saw clouds. Thick, swirling thunder clouds. Clouds that were all too familiar.

Every morning she and Mrs. Midoriya left for school and work. And every morning, Himiko had to force down the poison in her stomach.

Those were different clouds.

Izu-kun had grown.

So… He couldn't do that.

Right?

… She'd make sure to lock the ladder to the roof.

Himiko tensed up a bit, holding Izu-kun's wrist just a bit tighter than before. "... Lets get your bandages changed!"

Izu-kun's nods, almost lifeless in his motions as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his torso as Himiko snagged the medicine box from his desk. She leafed through it, her lithe fingers quickly finding the various creams she had been looking for. Finally grabbing the gauze, she turns and kneels in front of Izuku, chewing on her tongue as she carefully inspected his wounds.

He had healed a lot, actually. Most of the burns were gone, along with all of the bruises, and only a few scrapes remained. To her mild disappointment, her blue-and-black eye candy had mostly recovered. What was left was hidden behind a large square of gauze, which Himiko gingerly peeled away. Underneath was a large square of bumpy, discolored flesh, leathery to the touch as she rubbed the medical cream on it.

Himiko went through the process mindlessly, having already done it daily for the past two weeks. But as she worked, both her mind and her eyes wandered, watching Izu-kun's listless expression.

… He hadn't been running at all since the fight. Add lack of exercise to his serious injuries, and there wasn't a doubt in Himiko's mind that Izuku would need time to get back to where he had been physically. And, with the entrance exam only a week away...

She licked her lips, pressing down the medical tape to keep the new gauze in place, and gave it a playful pat as she stood up. "Your injuries are looking pretty good! Do you want to go on a jog this morning?"

He didn't say anything at first, but eventually, a small whisper left his lips."... I'm sorry."

Oh god, the guilt in his eyes. Himiko's stomach tightened, her smile growing tighter. It hurt to watch, and it hurt even more that she didn't know what to do.

"Hey, don't apologize! We can take it easy today, go slower or shorter than before!" Please. Please say yes. She couldn't take it anymore. She could watch himself fall apart any longer. It was torture, and if this kept up, she'd have to endure the torture of watching him fail the entrance exam too. "We gotta make sure you're ready for U.A.!"

He shifted on the bed, his hopeless scowl deepening. "... I don't think I'll even get in, really."

"But we have to try, right?" Nonononononono! He can't do this! He has to try, to work, to do something! The enthusiasm in her voice was fueled by panic, a desperate attempt to get her partner back on his feet. "After all, we have our promise!"

"I know, but…" He takes a deep breath, unable to even finish the thought. "... I don't know."

A cold silence settled between the two, hollow and dead.

It physically hurt, and not just the silence.

The guilt did too.

This was her fault.

Not… not really, but…

Well, some of it had to be.

Those words she said to Izu-kun weeks ago, they were starting to seem hollow, even to her.

Her throat felt far too tight.

"... Hey, let's go get some breakfast!" The fake smile on her face was stretched so wide it hurt, strings pulled far too taut.

"Y-yeah…" Izu-kun nodded, a hesitance in his voice as he pushed himself up to get dressed. But Himiko kept up her enthusiasm, refusing to let the pain in her heart tear through her happy facade. Through helping him get dressed, through neatening up his room, through cooking and eating breakfast. An artificial giggle at her own joke, an intentional mistake to try and lighten the mood. Fake cheeriness, fake conversation. A poorly made imitation of the happy family life they had just weeks before.

She hated it. God, she wished she could just stop. But she couldn't. Because the only thing worse than watching Izuku mope would be to join him. She couldn't pull him to his feet if she couldn't get herself off the ground.

She had to fix him.

It was her responsibility.

Himiko set the bowl of rice down on the table, a light clatter disrupting the relative silence as the soft scents of fish and miso mingle in the air. And, as she sat down, she allowed herself a small, weary sigh. She fumbled with her chopsticks, listlessly picking at her food as Izu-kun lifelessly went through the motions of preparing his meal.

It had been like this nearly every day, and it had been getting worse.

Every day that passed without him working was another day he slipped deeper into the bottomless cave he had trapped himself in. The first few days, he had mostly stayed in bed out of necessity; now he was simply doing it out of habit.

And Himiko needed to find a way to break that.

… What would he like to do outside? Training, if he could. But that wasn't working with the jogs, and it hadn't been working in the afternoons either.

Maybe go to the convenience store? They always liked getting snacks there, after all. She could probably scrounge up enough to get him one of those magazines he always liked, 'Heroes Digest.' It had to be more interesting than that 'Conquest of loaves' book, or whatever he was reading. Honestly she didn't know. But it could be a start? At least a way to get him out of the hou-

A loud yawn interrupted Himiko's thoughts, and her head jerked around at the sound, not unlike a surprised cat.

"Good morning, Himi-chan…" Mrs. Midoriya half stumbled into the dining room, her green hair hanging down in a tangled mess and the sleep not quite rubbed out of her eyes. She let out another yawn, a slow and round sound, before turning to the kitchen. But at the sight of her son, she seemed to freeze up, almost like a momentary panic.

It was a detail Himiko was certain not to miss.

"Oh, Izuku," And, just as quickly as she had seized up, Mrs. Midoriya was back to normal. "You're up early, you surprised me! Did you sleep well?"

"... Fine." Izu-kun gave the bare minimum of a response, not even looking up the bowl of rice he was pointlessly patting with the serving spoon. There wasn't any anger or disdain in his voice, just… hollowness. Himiko stared, a subtle fear in her wilted-sunflower eyes.

There was no drama. Nothing special. Mrs. Midoriya waddled into the kitchen, and Izu-kun wandered out, carrying his breakfast. The two continue on, following the trail of footsteps they knew they were supposed to. Yet, the dead air still pricked at Himiko's skin, a distinct discomfort emanating from Mrs. Midoriya.

The woman was nervous. Tense. Himiko didn't move a muscle, her pupils thin and a light scowl on her face. The chopsticks were balanced in her hand, hovering just above her bowl of rice.

Mrs. Midoriya hadn't suddenly started acting like this. No, it was gradual, the leaves of a tree browning and falling over the course of weeks. And, on days like today, it set in like a winter frost, cold and stiff to the touch.

The relationship between the two was rotting away, and Himiko wasn't quite sure how she felt. On one hand, the woman had given her a place to stay. It was something she could never repay. But on the other hand, she had blatantly rejected her, just like everyone else, and considering how she treated her Izu-kun after he got back from the hospital…

She clenched her chopsticks, but her tight lips didn't move.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Midoriya finally made her way to the table, letting out a sound between an exhausted sigh and weary grunt as she plopped down in her seat. For a few minutes, no one said a word, each of them too caught up inside of their own head.

At least, that's what Himiko assumed.

She was too trapped inside the empty depths of her own mind to notice anything else.

"So…" Mrs. Midoriya's soft voice quivered, somehow not quite able to truly break the silence. An uncomfortable and uncertain smile was drawn across her lips, so fake that Himiko was sure even Izu-kun could've done better. That did explain where the boy got his social skills, though. "Did Himiko finally drag you on a jog this morning?"

Izu-kun cast his eyes down in shame, shrinking away as if he could simply cease to exist, and Mrs. Midoriya stiffens, as though instantly realizing her mistake. Her smile flickers, and she attempts to fill the void with a nervous laugh.

A ball of heavy fire settled in HImiko's stomach, and she could barely restrain a glare. Why? Why did that woman do this? Why is she even here? Can't she see that she's only making Izu-kun feel worse? If she could just leave, just stop saying stupid things, maybe actually be a good mother-

Himiko let out a sad sigh.

… What was Himiko even thinking? Treating Mrs. Midoriya like an obstacle, a threat, it was the wrong way to go about it. She glanced up, catching sight of the woman's worried evergreen eyes.

She was trying to help. She genuinely was. And Himiko shouldn't take that for granted. She wanted to fix the broken boy across the table from her, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind she needed all the help she could get.

But what was she supposed to do? She had tried everything she could think of, and it had gone nowhere. Izu-kun had fallen down the well, and the fire in his eyes had died.

… Or was just hidden. Lord, she hoped it wasn't gone. She didn't want to lose her wolf.

… Maybe she had pushed him too far. Maybe she had been too greedy. And if she was the reason he fell apart…

She couldn't even bear to look at him, her heart tight as she picked at her eggs and rice. Outside, a group of lonely birds sang their morning songs.

Mrs. Midoriya coughed, an old strategy to subtly break an awkward silence that Himiko had never seen work. "How are you feeling, Izuku? Y-your injuries, that is."

Izu-kun took a deep breath, and sighed. "Alright, I think. The graft still hurts, and my muscles are sore, but other than that… I'm ok, I guess"

A smaller, more authentic smile came to Mrs. Midoriya's face. It wasn't the happy sort, not really, but the sort that someone wore after setting down something very heavy. "Good. The doctor said you should be recovered in time for the entrance exam, so I hope you're ready for that!" The older woman shot Himiko a pleading look, an unspoken request hanging between them.

Himiko wasn't quite able to look the woman in the eye, guilt tugging at her heart. Of course she was going to help. That would be the case no matter what, but… especially now, since she was part of the reason he ended up like this. She nervously licked her lips, letting her eyes linger on her bowl of rice.

… She'd have to take care of him. All the others had run off, after all, so she had to treasure him.

The green-haired boy nodded at his mother, very careful to not look at her. "... I'll try."

Mrs. Midoriya let out a soft sigh, the type that was filled with relief and motherly love. "I know you will."

Watching the quiet and kind interaction, something small and sharp pricked at Himiko's heart, a drop of dark anger. Her lips tightened, but she didn't scowl. Either Mrs. Midoriya was blind, or she simply didn't want to see just how broken her son was. There was no way that she couldn't see how depressed he was, how dead and hollow that statement was. But somehow, she hadn't seen it, and Himiko didn't have an answer as to why.

Whatever that answer might be, Himiko could feel her faith in the woman crumbling. Or, at least, whatever of it was left after how she had treated Izu-kun in the fight's aftermath.

"... Izuku, I wanted to tell you something." For a moment, her voice hangs in the air, the warmth from before melting away to reveal a more solemn tone. Her mouth hangs somewhere between open and closed, her mind carefully collecting her thoughts before she began. "I'm planning to enroll you in the Musutafu Special Needs Academy. The paperwork is already submitted"

She said it so quickly, so simply, that the words' meaning almost didn't register in Himiko's mind. But they most certainly did in Izu-kun's.

The green-haired boy freezes, his chopsticks precariously balanced in his hand and his dull green eyes slowly becoming sharper, a tree being woken from its winter hibernation by a flood.

A-

A special needs academy?

As the words sunk in, Himiko's mind only spun more, as though it was news for her and not for her companion.

That's a school for the disabled, right? 'Special needs' is just a nicer way of saying 'messed up,' right? Like, that's what they meant whenever the doctors called her that, and-

Himiko shivered at the thought of what those schools might do. She had never been to one, but if they were anything like what Aunt Iku had dragged her to-

He didn't deserve that. N-no one deserved that. And it wasn't like he was really disabled, just quirkless. It was a minor disability, and he could still live normally, so to force him into a school like that would just be…

Cruel.

As the initial shock faded, that dark drop in her heart started to spread, inky anger making soft swirls as it mixed with her hot blood.

There was a brief moment of stiff silence before Izu-kun snapped back to reality, his head shooting up. "W-what?!"

"I've been thinking a lot over these past two weeks." Mrs. Midoriya was speaking calmly and quietly, unable to lift her gaze from her shoes. "I've had to make some hard decisions. Izuku, I'm not going to force you to apologize to Katsuki. I've been talking with Mitsuki, and while we still don't agree on everything… Even she acknowledges that Katsuki probably started it. And, I've seen the other bruises, from all the other times. It's just... I think it'll be better this way, so you can focus on your education."

"And so you're just going to send me to a school for the disabled?" Izu-kun's eyes jutted back and forth, quickly shifting between Mrs. Midoriya, Himiko, and empty air. WIth the rug so suddenly pulled out from under him, he sputtered, attempting to find solid ground and respond. "Mom, what about U.A.? If you're planning to send me there, then why am I even preparing for the entrance exam?"

"Well, I…" The woman swallowed and bit her lip, fiddling with her fingers as she scrambled for a gentle way to deflect the question. "I just want to see you pursue your dreams."

Look at him.

Look at him while you lie to him.

You-

You at least owe him that!

Himiko soundlessly growled, gritting her teeth between sealed lips.

She was lying to his face, tearing his dream in half even as she said she cared! Saying he should chase his dreams, but at the same time, saying he's too weak to even attend a regular school, let alone a hero academy!

Himiko hated liars.

She hated liars more than anyone else.

And Mrs. Midoriya, despite her round face and soft voice, was a liar too.

… At least Mama had been honest when she threw Himiko away.

"My dream is to be a hero..." A set of chopsticks was gently set on the table, but they were set there with panicked precision, not calm carefulness. He spoke quietly, almost a mumble, but there was an edge in his voice, as though the words were only a secondary priority to whatever was happening inside his head. And Himiko would believe that, seeing the calculations and recalculations behind his uncertain eyes. Even as he spoke, his lips made more words than his voice, muttering dozens of unintelligible phrases under his breath. "... And I can't get that certification unless I go to a hero academy like U.A."

The woman - the liar - glanced up, offering a concerned scowl. "There are other ways to help people, Izuku." She reached across the table, attempting to set her hand on Izu-kun's.

It was as though he had been stung.

"You-!" He jerked back, the cloudy confusion melting away in less than an instant to reveal panic. "Mom, you didn't even ask! I don't want those 'other ways,' I want to be a hero! All of these months, I've been training, and studying, and-"

"It's too dangerous, Izuku!" She cut him off, fear and desperation in her voice. "Look at yourself! Look at how hurt you are! Izuku, I couldn't stand to see you get hurt anymore! And even if the fight wasn't your fault, I can only ever imagine what would happen if there was an actual villain that wanted to kill you!"

"But-!"

"No buts! No excuses! I-!" her words cut off halfway, as though the pipe to her vocal chords was suddenly closed. But, at the pause, she hesitated, and drooped a bit. There was pain in her eyes, uncertainty and discomfort. She was doing what she thought was best, even if she didn't like it.

Squeezing her fists, Mrs. Midoriya steeled herself and continued. "... Izuku, I want to see you succeed. I really do. And I believe in you. But, if you were to ever get hurt again…"

Himiko could see it. She had seen it wearing at the woman over the past few weeks, a weight on her chest that only got heavier and heavier. And Himiko didn't need to be a psychologist to see what she was feeling.

Guilt. She was feeling guilty. And, in some ways, Himiko could sympathize, but…

It made Himiko no less angry. Her cat-like eyes were filled with an ocean of fury, hot and golden like iron in a forge. Because, no matter what the woman said, she stood against her son when it really counted.

"... You don't believe in me." The steel in Izu-kun's voice cut like a razor, cold and quiet.

The woman flinched, taking in a sharp breath before forcing a weak smile. "Honey, of course I believe in-"

"No you don't!" Izu-kun leapt to his feet, his bowl of rice clattering onto the table and red-hot anger spilling from his lips. "You've never believed in me! It was always there, I just didn't want to see it! I wanted to think that you supported me, that you actually thought I could, but you don't! You don't think I can be a hero, you don't even think I can be normal! You treat me like some sort of glass doll, like I can't be trusted to take care of myself!"

"I've always want to help yo-"

"Then why didn't you? Why don't you?" Hateful tears began to build in his eyes, his jaw clenched and his fists shaking. "When Katsuki attacked me, were you there to help? Were you there to stand up for me, to tell the school it wasn't my fault? That it was self defence? No!"

For an instant, no one said anything, as though Izu-kun had been expecting a response. But Mrs. Midoriya was reeling from her son's explosion, and Himiko was watching in amazement.

His anger.

It was back.

She had to resist a giddy smile.

Maybe her wolf wasn't gone.

Izu-kun's voice dropped low, dripping with poison. "Mom, you blamed me. You sided against me."

"I- I know, and I'm sorry. But I'm trying to make things right, because I love-"

"You're not doing this out of love. Don't say that, Mom. That makes it hurt more." His rage was dark and quiet, smoldering coals that made no light but burnt as hot as any fire. "You're doing this out of guilt. You're doing this because you can't stand to watch me break even more. You've always had this look in your eyes, a guilt, as though I'm your broken little kid, and it's your fault. As though I'm destined to fail, and all you can do is try and soften the blow."

His mother didn't respond at first, simply biting her lip and fumbling to clean up the table a bit. Even with her son fuming, she still tried to neaten up the bowl of rice he dropped. And, as she scooped the rice into her palm, she tried to speak.

"... I just want to protect you. You're… You're my baby."

"I'm not broken. I'm not defective." Izu-kun dropped into his seat with a thud, still furious but with nothing else to say. "And you need to stop treating me like I am."

A dead silence settled in the room, the air so thick it hurt to breathe. Izu-kun glared at his breakfast, picking at whatever didn't spill from his bowl. Mrs. Midoriya quickly fetched a cloth, wiping the table and wordlessly offering to take Himiko's empty bowl to the sink. The blonde passed it over, but her eyes never left her companion.

He was still angry.

Undoubtedly trying to plan and scheme his way out of this situation.

… Was he going to do something stupid?

No, no, he wouldn't.

But even if he did, it wouldn't matter. Because now, he was at least doing more than just moping.

It was exactly the chance Himiko needed to rebuild him. Of course, that anger, that energy, was worthless unless purposefully directed at something, or someone. She could use it, to mould him into someone stronger. And, should she want to harness that…

Her eyes drifted to the kitchen, the hot fury draining to be replaced with cold analysis as she looked over the pudgy woman rinsing dishes.

Himiko had a few ideas. Unless the proper chance presented itself, she would need to do some preparations of her own. But she would be certain to give her wolf back his strength.

A cheerful smile came to her face, completely fake but completely natural. "Hey Izu-kun, do ya wanna go to the mall after school?"

"Huh?" He glanced at her, a bit of confusion in his eyes.

"I gotta get a haircut and all, and with spring coming up, I thought maybe we could go shopping for clothes. You need out of the house, and you're due for some fun, after all!" Himiko shot Mrs. Midoriya a look, not a word needed to get her point across.

An offer of an alliance, per se. Himiko would provide the calm perspective that Izu-kun trusted, a way to get him out of the house and back into the land of the living. And Mrs. Midoriya would provide the tools to do it, a bit of cash and just enough of a blind eye to let them 'get away' with something minor.

The woman quickly nodded, sealing the deal.

"I think that would be nice!" Setting down the dishes, Mrs. Midoriya pasted a small smile onto her very uncomfortable expression. "I can give the two of you a bit of cash for it, if you want to go!"

Izu-kun furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak, but Himiko gave him her most excited smile, and the words seemed to die in his throat. "O-okay."

"Good!" Mrs. Midoriya cheered, a bit too enthusiastic, and reached over, snagging her purse and rummaging through it for her wallet. She handed Himiko a few thousand yen and shoved the wallet back in the purse, beginning to meander back towards the hallway. "Well, I have to go get ready for work! And, Izuku…"

The woman slowed to a stop, and Himiko could see it in her eyes again, that ever-present guilt the blonde had quickly come to hate.

"... I'm sorry."

The parent headed back to her room, but Himiko's eyes never left her.

She wasn't looking at Mrs. Midoriya.

She was glowering at her.

'A set of deep crimson eyes, broken but kind. Defeated, but happy. Streams of grief-stricken tears, but also a relieved smile. But still, she refused to look at Himiko. "I'm sorry, Himi. I've been a terrible mom, haven't I?"'

Himiko's emotions about her mother were complicated. But how she felt about Mrs. Midoriya was very simple.

She hated her.

)ooOoo(

Izuku was uncomfortable.

… Well, considering the past two weeks, that wasn't saying much. It was basically impossible to get comfortable with his injuries, even with most of them practically healed.

So maybe what he should've said was he was more uncomfortable.

He shifted on the bench, a long white box made that fit perfectly with the clothing store's sleek, trendy aethstetic. But, since it was little more than a white plastic prism, with sharp corners and no back, it also made it impossible to get comfortable on.

… That actually made a lot of sense. What was it called? Uncomfortable design? No, unpleasant design. That was it. They probably didn't want people just hanging around in the shop, considering how small the mall store was. If nothing else, Izuku could definitely assure them that their efforts were working; he wanted out of this place as soon as possible. If it wasn't because of the bench, it was probably because of the lingerie section just to his left.

"H-Himiko?" He fidgeted, his cheeks tinged just the faintest red as he looked over to the changing booth across from him. "Are you almost done in there?"

"Almooost!" The girl's off-kilter voice fluttered out from the stall, it's sing-songy tone confirming Izuku's worst fear: she was in absolutely no rush.

Izuku sighed, resigned to his fate. Himiko had wanted spring clothes, and Mom had been more than glad to volunteer him to help. And so, when school finished, he met the girl at the normal 7/11, where they grabbed a snack before heading to the mall. It was just a shopping trip, right? It was supposed to be pretty short. And after, he could head home and… Well, he didn't know. Relax? That sounded like the best word to use, or at least, a lot better than saying 'do nothing.'

Of course, that had been nearly three hours ago.

Pulling out his phone, he opened up a news app, and began flipping through recent articles. There weren't any big news reports, not today at least. The Equalist Party held their national convention in Fukuoka, a hero alliance in Sapporo was caught embezzling money from the National Hero Support Fund, a variety of smaller, less noticeable things. It was… well, for lack of a better word, a normal day. Almost mundane.

Rolling his shoulders, he gave a tired groan and looked around, his sore eyes searching for something somewhat interesting. He probably shouldn't have stayed up so late last night… And sleeping for a good part of the day only made him feel worse… His whole body felt like trash, and his brain was as clear as a wadded up ball of used tissues.

Carefully trying to avoid looking at the lingerie, and even more carefully trying to ignore the blush on his face, Izuku's gaze eventually settled on a fold out table set up in the middle of the mall, just outside the store Izuku was sitting in. No one seemed to be paying attention to the girl staffing it, who had a spattering of freckles and fluffy midnight-blue hair. It wasn't very interesting, but… there wasn't really much else to he could see outside the store, and absolutely nothing in the store he was willing to stare at. So, he set his chin in his palm, listlessly watching the girl go through the seemingly well practiced motions.

A person walked by, and she gave them an artificially cheerful greeting. She tried to force a flyer into their hands, but they end up ignoring it and continuing on. She pauses, but then moves on to the next person.

Rinse and repeat.

It was like one of those videos he'd see online, where a pattern continued endlessly. Visual white noise.

What was she even handing out flyers for? She wasn't dressed like an employee, just a loose hoodie and some casual jeans. He squinted, taking a better look at the sign through the window.

'VOTE EQUALIST THIS OCTOBER!'

The Equalists? Here?

Izuku almost couldn't believe it.

They had a strong base in Kyushu and Tokyo, but outside of there, they were practically nonexistent, and-

Wait, if that was for October, that meant they were canvassing for the parliament elections, and that meant they had a parliamentary candidate for Musutafu! He hadn't heard about that online at all, which is surprising considering how much he monitored all the party's stuff, but this was great! He felt a light smile coming to his face as he pushed himself up, his stiff joints complaining. Could he go talk to them? Izuku tossed a quick glance back at Himiko's changing room, but really, was he expecting her to be done? He could go, maybe grab a flyer, and-

"Izuuu-kun!" Himiko's playful voice interrupted his thoughts, as though she had been peering inside his head and decided to intervene.

Slowly, almost like a child caught by a parent trying to sneak away, Izuku turned back to face the changing room."Y-yes?"

"Can ya hand me the cute blue shirt on the bench?" The door to the changing room creaked open, Himiko's lithe hand snaking out and pointing in the vague direction of the bench Izuku had been sitting on. Her tone was coy, almost teasing, as though there was more than just the literal meaning of her words.

Izuku was suddenly very concerned.

He made his way to the bench at a slow pace, half out of an effort not to irritate his freshly-healed wounds, and half out of suspicion. What was she planning? She had to be planning something. That tone of voice, that teasing and sly tone, she only had it when she was going to pull something.

There didn't seem to be anything special about the pile of shirts. A scattering, maybe five of them, all of them bulky long-sleeved shirts. Was there something in them? Under them? His green eyes slightly narrowed, Izuku's hand hovered just above the pile of shirts.

And then he noticed one key detail he missed.

"... Uh, which one?" There were three blue shirts.

"Hm?" Her cool voice responded, a questioning tone lingering.

"W-which shirt?" He felt a small blush coming on, a light searing on his cheeks. He was overthinking this. He had to be. She was planning something, but all she was asking for was for him to grab a shirt. What would she even be able to do? Was this how paranoid two weeks of being cooped up had made him? Maybe that was why-

… Maybe that was why he had snapped at Mom.

As quickly as his blush had appeared, it was gone, replaced with a sinking feeling in his chest. He shouldn't have done that. He wasn't wrong, not really. He wasn't some fragile, broken thing to be taken care of. He was his own person, and he wasn't going to that school. He would stand by that.

But… He shouldn't have said it like he had. Over the past few weeks, he had simply tuned everything out. Himiko, Mom, everything. But now, he could remember his mom's guilty eyes in painful detail. She had been feeling terrible, and was trying to fix it. Maybe it was a low bar, but it seemed like she didn't blame him anymore. And besides, she was doing all of this because she cared, and he couldn't deny that.

He just wished she cared enough to actually help him.

"Hm…" Himiko's light hum brought reality back to the forefront of Izuku's mind. For a moment, she seemed to weigh her options. But finally, she let out a carefree laugh, a sound like butterfly wings flapping. "Whichever one you think would look cutest on me!"

The one that looked cutest on her? Well, he'd probably have to see her wearing each one, but if he had to choose one, it would have to be-

Wait, what sort of guideline was that!?

Izuku stiffened up, suddenly that much more aware that he was tucked behind the lingerie section of a girls' clothing outlet. The cutest? How was he even supposed to know that? He barely understood male beauty standards, let alone female ones! How was he supposed to pick the 'cutest' of them if he could barely tell the difference between them? And besides, if he was going to choose something for Himiko to wear, he wouldn't have chosen blue, she looked a lot better in oranges, since it went with her eyes. All of these shirts would just look wrong with her, in terms of color, at least, so he would have to go pick out a nice sunset or autumn orange shirt, a long sleeve sweater or cardigan probably. Maybe a black skirt or pants to go with it, and...

Izuku paused, realizing that he was internally ranting about clothing. He shook his head, feeling silly. Just, which one of the shirts did he think looked best? That was all she wanted to know. He gave them a brief glance, before finally picking one.

Stepping up to the changing room door, he softly knocked and held out the shirt. "Here you go, Hi-"

The door shot open, and something snatched his wrist, dragging him in before he could even finish the sentence. The shirt dropped from his hands, and his back slammed hard against the hard wooden wall, stunning him.

She had been planning something! He had seen it coming! Stupid, stupid, stupid! A set on hands, tipped with sharp nails, carefully wandered his torso, and Izuku pressed back against the wall as much as he could, his eyes firmly squeezed shut. Himiko was so close, he could feel her body heat in the slightly-too-cold mall air, and a hot blush began burning his cheeks.

Okay, okay, calm down! He's obviously not in danger. Himiko wouldn't risk fighting him here, right? He knew that she wanted him to start training soon, but not even she would do that. They could get arrested! So, why did she do this? Why did she drag him into a changing room with-

His chaotic thoughts were interrupted by a sharp gasp, Himiko tracing his adam's apple with one finger.

"H-Himiko," He hissed at her, careful not to raise his voice and alert the store clerks. "What are you doing?!"

Himiko giggled, the soft touch of her hands disappearing but her coy voice getting much closer to his ear. "Experimenting with my little wolf!"

What does that even mean?! Izuku shifted, attempting to put at least some space between the two of them, but it was useless in the cramped changing room. He shuffled, but Himiko moved with him, and-

They both froze, the sounds of firm footsteps approaching. An employee? It had to be! Himiko had slammed him into a wall, he would've been surprised if the people outside the store hadn't heard!

"Ma'am?" The clerk spoke up, and she sounded like an older lady, probably the sort who had seen a good deal of mischief in her store. "Are you okay in there?"

Izuku stiffened, holding his breath as though a single sound could alert the woman. And it probably would! How would Mom react if she found out about this? Oh All Might, he didn't even want to think about that!

"Yep! I'm A-okay in here!" Himiko responded with her typical cheery voice, as though she wasn't hiding her boyfriend in a changing room of a mall store. The fact that his eyes were closed only made it so much worse, but he'd rather go blind than risk opening his eyes at the wrong time.

"Okay, but do tell me if you need anything!" The clerk shouted back through the door, but soon enough, Izuku could hear the distinct sound of footsteps leaving.

He let out a relieved breath.

For just a brief moment, nothing moved, as though both of them were recovering from the clerk's interruption. Well, that's what Izuku assumed. With his eyes closed and Himiko completely silent, there was only so much Izuku could know. But, from the way she clung to him, he could feel how tense she was.

If it was any other situation, he would've reached out to hug her. But at that moment, he was afraid to even move.

"... Well, uh," Izuku's voice wavered, and his eyes were starting to hurt from being squeezed shut for too long. "A-are you dressed?"

"Nope!" There was obvious, teasing amusement in Himiko's voice, which only made Izuku more nervous. S-so, he was stuck in a changing room, with his girlfriend, who wasn't dressed? That couldn't be right, could it? That- that had to be- but Himiko wouldn't lie, so-

Oh All Might.

Izuku's face was burning, and his heart was under so much strain it felt like it would pop.

"Wha-?! H-Himiko, please let me out!"

"Not until you open your eyes."

"What?"

"Open your eyes, and I'll let you out."

"N-no! Then I'd be peeking on you, and-"

"And what if I want you to?" She spoke quietly, right into his ear. There was something in her tone, something sly and cat-like. He could feel her pressing against him, her hands resting on his hip and shoulder as she teased him out of his shell. His breath was shaky and hot, and he almost felt lightheaded.

H-he wanted to, in some ways. He wanted to open his eyes and see her, all of her. Oh, even thinking that made him feel sick, like his stomach was twisting itself into tight, nervous knots. He couldn't! It was that simple! He couldn't be ready for that, a-and, what would come after? What would happen after he opened his eyes? If he knew Himiko, it wouldn't end there! But… If she wouldn't let him out otherwise…

It was a good enough excuse to pacify his uncertainty.

He took in a sharp breath, and pointlessly tried to swallow his nerves. "... Are you sure..?"

"Mm-hmmm" She spoke slowly and warmly, a lazy cat waiting for it's meal to wander into its mouth.

Slowly, hesitantly, he let his eyes open. His heart thudded in his chest, and he knew for a fact his pants crotch didn't typically feel that tight. Oh, he didn't feel prepared for this, but he had to, and-

And she was completely clothed, in her typical beige cardigan, actually, with a massive, amused smile on her face.

First, Izuku was confused. And then, he felt something he did not expect: disappointment.

Himiko burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she took a step back. "You wanted to see me naked, didn't you?"

"N-no, you made me do it, and-" He tried desperately to deny it, but the painfully hot pressure in his cheeks made the efforts mute.

"I saw the look in your eyes, it was adorable!"

"I swear, I didn't mean that-!"

Izuku was suddenly cut off with a hug, the gentle but firm sort of someone that didn't want to hold on too hard, but didn't dare risk letting go. Burying her face in the nape of his neck, she drew him in close, taking a deep breath and sighing. Was…

Was she relieved?

Izuku didn't understand. But that didn't stop him from returning the hug with gentle arms.

"I love you, Izu-kun." One of her hands reached up to the base of his neck, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. "Thank you."

Why was she acting this way? It was like…

Like she was afraid.

"... For what?"

"For coming. For getting out of the house. I was worried." Her voice was soft and muffled, getting lost in his shoulder on the way to his ears. Why was she acting like this? It was so-

… No, Izuku could understand.

He just hadn't thought about it.

He had seen how Mom had been impacted by it. The guilt that was tearing at her every day, the way it was hurting her. But what he hadn't thought about was Himiko.

Himiko had always been good at hiding her emotions. If she wanted to seem happy, she typically could look the part, even if she was falling apart on the inside. If Izuku didn't pay attention, he would completely miss what she was truly feeling, seeing nothing more than the mask on the surface. And, over the past two weeks, it would be an understatement to say 'he wasn't paying attention.'

God, he was stupid.

He ran a hand through her knotted blond hair, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for bringing me."

Himiko looked up at him and chuckled, a soft sound. "Wanna know what the best part is?"

"What?" Izuku smiled warmly, letting his worries slip away. Looking into her loving sunflower eyes, he could forget everything for a moment. His argument with his mom, the change in schools, the upcoming entrance exam, all of that could fade into the background.

"When I had dragged you in," She gave a wide grin, showing off her sharp teeth. "You stretched out your neck."

"... Huh?" He furrowed his eyebrows, an uncertain frown on his face. What did she mean, he stretched out his neck?

"When you were against the wall, you stretched out your neck, letting me see all of it. As though you were expecting something. As though you wanted something." Slowly, with a tentative touch, Himiko reached out to touch his neck. Her cool fingers traced along his neck, right along the small, rift-like scar she had left him. A set of yellow eyes lingered, before flickering up at him. "... Do you?"

Izuku's breath caught in his throat.

He should say no.

That's obvious.

Mom had told them no biting, and outside of the night after the fight, the pair had held to that. It was just safer to follow the rules, to stick with what was normal.

But he wanted to say yes.

He was past the point of claiming he didn't enjoy it. Past the point of claiming it didn't feel amazing to have the girl's teeth tear into him, that the thought her fangs didn't make his heart beat just a bit faster. But Mom had said it was wrong, and-

Well, even there, he didn't agree. He didn't think it was wrong. He… He didn't care if it was wrong. It wasn't like the others would accept him anyways. It made him feel more connected with Himiko, and really, she was the only one that cared for him.

At least, cared enough to actually help him.

Maybe it was wrong.

Maybe it wasn't the safest thing.

But, in that moment, looking into Himiko's knife-like eyes…

He didn't care about any of that.

His head twisted, very intentionally giving Himiko a full view. "I, uh…" He swallowed a bit, not quite able to form words.

"Hm?" She cocked her head, as if she didn't understand. She did, though. He could see it in her eyes. Half the time, she seemed to know exactly what he was going to do, even before he did. But she wanted him to say more.

"Y-" He sputtered, his throat tight and his voice small. "Yes… Please."

In that moment, Izuku saw something very distinct in Himiko's eyes. Approval? Desire? Possessiveness? Some odd mixture of the three that Izuku found… both terrifying and alluring.

It was scary.

And yet, it also felt far more natural than any other expression she could've worn.

One moment, she was simply looking at him.

And in the next, a set of teeth was digging into his flesh, hot and cold mixing together as electricity shot up and down his spine. Waves of pain and pleasure roiled and stirred, filling his mind like a desert field flooding from the monsoon rains. His mouth made silent screams, and all of his muscles seemed to be misfiring, pistons in an engine with too much fuel. Her tongue ran across his skin between bites, and his fingers dug into her back and shoulders.

Finally, Himiko came up for air.

It wasn't long. Barely a nibble compared to their other sessions. But it had left them both breathing heavily, as though Izuku had just restarted his workout schedule. And, above all…

It had felt freeing.

Genuinely freeing.

Between small gasps, Himiko licked and kissed at the series of bite marks on his shoulder, and Izuku made sure to give her space to do it comfortably.

Himiko was crazy. She had no self control, it seemed, and was willing to do anything just about anywhere. She ignored the rules she didn't like, and marched to her own drum.

Watching her with the fondness of a wolf and his mate, Izuku had to admit. That's what he loved about her. She did what she enjoyed, and what she thought was right. They looked like complete opposites. But really, they were the same. Rulebreakers that did what they thought was right.

"So…" It took a bit, but Himiko did eventually catch her breath. "Which sweater is the cutest?"

Which was cutest? He thought about the three sweaters, his weary mind considering the options. But, with an uncomfortable chuckle, he chose the obvious answer.

"... I liked the orange one from earlier."

Himiko laughed. "Me too!"

)ooOoo(

Izuku was honestly surprised it had gone so smoothly.

They had neatened up, slipped out of the changing room, and easily went through the checkout line, buying one of the blue shirts and one of the orange ones. It had been hard to ignore the nervous thudding of his heart as he looked the store clerk in the eye, pretend he hadn't just been hiding away in a cramped room with his partner. But, the old lady didn't even seem to notice. They had done it.

"Have a good day, you two! And, young man," As she handed Himiko the bag of clothes, the old lady gave Izuku a sly smile and a wink. "You two aren't the least bit quiet. But I'd hate to cause issues for young love, so just don't do it again. Treat her well."

It took a few moments for Izuku to compute what the old woman had said. But the moment it clicked, Izuku's face bloomed red, and his mouth tried to sputter out any words it could think of. "Y-yes Ma'am! I'll do my best!"

"I'm sure you will." The lady giggled, the sweet old sort that made Izuku think of grandmas exchanging gossip. "Now hurry up, she's leaving!"

Izuku gave a jerky nod. Was that enough? No, no, not at all. Throwing himself into a deep bow, he quickly scurried to catch up with Himiko outside the shop.

"What'd she say?" Himiko bumped shoulders with him as soon as he arrived, holding the bag of clothes behind her back as she casually began her orbit around him. Such a natural movement, so habitual that Izuku simply moved with her, a set of twin planets falling into place.

"Uh, well…" Izuku licked his lips, fiddling with and pulling on his fingers in a desperate attempt to let out fidgety energy. "N-nothing…"

Himiko rolled her head, showing an amused grin. "You're a baaad liar, Izu-kun."

Izuku paused, but gave a small nod. "... Yeah."

Himiko could only giggle at the confession, not hiding her sharp smile as she ruffled his messy green hair.

"So," The blonde jerked her head in the direction of the Equalist Party table, or more specifically, the blue-haired girl staffing it. "Who's that?"

"Huh?" Izuku glanced at the girl, furrowing his eyebrows. She was settled on a stool beside the table, seemingly taking a break as she nursed a bottle of water. He shrugged, taking a moment to try, and fail, to neaten his hair. "Oh, I don't know."

Himiko looked between the girl and Izuku, a bit of humor lingering in her warm eyes. "Didn't I just tell you you're a bad liar?"

"N-no, I actually don't know."

"Really?"

"Really!'

"So…" She shifted her head back and forth, balancing on her heel as she attempted to solve the riddle. "Why do you keep looking over at her?"

"Well, you see the table?" Izuku pointed at the large sign, unconcerned as he explained. "It's for the Equalist Party. I just didn't know they were active in Musutafu."

Himiko quirked a curious eyebrow, watching the booth carefully. "You're interested in them?"

There it was again, that cold analytical look she got occasionally, the sort that drained all of the emotion from her body for a moment before she snapped back to normal. It had been nearly a year, and Izuku had yet to figure out exactly what that was, or what exactly the inside of her head looked like. He nodded, a bit hesitant. "Yeah, I suppose-"

"Then let's take a looksie!" Without waiting for confirmation, she began half-marching, half dancing towards the table, and Izuku stumbled behind her, sticking close.

About halfway from the table, the girl seemed to suddenly notice the pair, and fumbled to put down the water bottle and grab the flyers. As soon as the two teens got within a few strides, the girl gave a big smile and held out a sheet to Himiko.

"Hi! Are you registered to vote…" She paused and chuckled awkwardly, but the smile didn't disappear from her face. "... Well, probably not. You look a bit young."

"Yep!" Himiko accepted the two flyers, passing off one to Izuku. The boy gave it a quick look over, but quickly realized it wasn't really for him, considering how a good portion of it was about registering to vote. "Can't vote for another four years! Just curious!"

The two girls made smalltalk for a moment, but Izuku held back, simply taking a moment to look at everything. The table was covered end-to-end in supplies and advertisements, flyers and pamphlets to magazines and even a few smaller items like stickers and pens. Despite how he'd never even seen the Equalists before in Musutafu, they seemed to have at least the funding to cover quite a bit of merchandise. Glancing over, he caught sight of the paper name tag stuck to The girl's chest; 'Futsuko.' She had to be a teenager, no older than nineteen at most. Her dark blue hair hung down just past her shoulders, falling with the sort of fluffiness that gave her permanent bedhead, and a smattering of freckles covered her pale cheeks. Izuku silently stuck to the background, sifting through the organized stacks of stuff and plucking a pen out of the coffee cup they were set in.

"Feel free to grab that! We have plenty!" Futsuko broke off her conversation with Himiko for a moment, giving Izuku a salesman's smile before turning back to the girl. "But anyways, the coordinator told me to ask everyone about registering, but it seems the only people interested are the ones that can't vote." She laughed, her voice carrying the dry tone of someone who didn't want to admit how hard disappointment was on their nerves.

"Yeah, s-sorry about that. I know we're probably wasting your time…" Izuku gave a weak smile, joining the conversation. They were probably not helping the woman, after all, considering how they were years off from voting. He was interested in the party, definitely, but that was all; it wasn't like he could do anything about it. He fiddled with the pen, reading the magazine headlines in an attempt to not look up.

"Hey, hey," Futsuko clicked her tongue and held up a hand, as if to wave off the thoughts going through his head. "Never apologize for being interested in something. I can't vote yet either."

Izuku's head shot up, a bit of surprise in his wide eyes. "Wait, really?"

She offered an uncomfortable chuckle, and nodded, her hands naturally slipping into her hoodie pockets. "Yeah, I'm only seventeen."

Seventeen!? He would've sworn she had to be older! She was hosting this table after all, and weren't there rules about that? Izuku… didn't actually know. And besides, if she couldn't even vote...

"... Why are you doing this?" He cocked his head, genuinely curious. He had always watched politics from afar. For most of his life, it was because it had only been tangentially related to heros; laws and regulations, all the important technical stuff. He had always kept a close eye on the Equalists, since they always hammered heros on things like accountability and extra regulations. Before, it was mostly with… well, confusion and dislike. After all, all that red tape on heros would just make their job of helping people harder, right? And sometimes they did make mistakes, but they were in a dangerous job.

His views had evolved some since then.

After a moment of consideration, Futsuko simply shrugged, curling a strand of her hair around one finger. "Well, I wanna help somehow. I can't expect things to change by doing nothing."

"Definitely!" Himiko broke into the conversation, enthusiastically endorsing the woman's - girl's? Izuku didn't know which word to use. - comment. "My Izu-kun is wanting to become a hero!"

"Oh really?" Futsuko raised a curious eyebrow, a sly grin on her face as she looked the kid over. "That's awesome! What sort of quirk do ya have?"

"Oh, uh…" Izuku froze up for a moment, hesitance creeping into the corners of his mind. He didn't want to be laughed at. She may be part of the Equalists, but really, that didn't mean much. She had been alive for more than a day, so she would know without a doubt that he didn't have a chance. But… Well, it wouldn't be anything new. He pasted on a strained smile, and pulled at his collar, trying to breathe a bit easier. "I'm quirkless"

"More power to ya!" The volunteer didn't miss a beat, giving a big thumbs up. "We need more people like you out there!"

… Why was she being encouraging? Izuku didn't react to her comment, his expression falling. Was this like with Mom, how she'd say something she didn't believe in the slightest? He sighed, looking down at himself.

He was a mess. There was no point in skirting that detail. Scrawny, quirkless, and still bearing a few marks from his fight. The only people who would have confidence in him were the blind, liars, and Himiko.

He frowned, letting his concern and disillusion show in his eyes as he looked at Futsuko. "... Do you really think I can do it? Or are you just saying that?"

For a moment, Futsuko didn't react. But then, her smile died a bit, as though she had seen the ghost of someone she'd lost. "I'll be honest, I have no idea. But I'm not gonna make it better by saying you can't. And besides, I gotta have faith in you. No one had any faith in me when I tried."

What? What did that mean?

Izuku clutched the pen in his hand. "When you tried?"

"Confirmed quirkless, and confirmed to have absolutely bombed the U.A. entrance exam!" She laughed, the sad sort that tried to hide regret with humor. But there was a smile on her face nevertheless, something that Izuku couldn't connect with the words coming out of her mouth.

"Wait, really?!" Almost as soon as he understood what she said, the doubt in his mind fizzled, replaced with surprise and excitement. Not just another quirkless, but another one that wanted to be a hero! He could barely believe it, and the smile on his face showed it.

"Yep. Called myself 'Nightwitch.' I, uh…" Her grin became self-deprecating, but more authentic, like looking through a photo album of embarrassing pictures. "I was an awkward tween."

"That's awesome!" His burst of energy blew through the woman's uncertainty, a dozen questions suddenly coming to mind. "Why did you want to become a hero? Did you get any training? What sort of combat did you use? Himiko has mostly been teaching me close-quarters knife fighting, and I've tinkered with throwing knives, and..."

Futsuko nodded in mild surprise and approval, her attention once again directed towards Izuku's blond companion. "Knives, really? I mostly used stuff like parkour and hand-to-hand, which, uh… Did not work well in the entrance exam. Doesn't really get the job done on robots. So, what sorta hero name are ya thinking of using?"

"A hero name?" Izuku's train of thought came to a screeching halt, the questions he had left suddenly put on hold. He hadn't even bothered with hero names. Like, he had written stuff like 'All Might Jr.' in his older notebooks, but not only was that embarrassing to remember, but he couldn't imagine himself after another hero anymore. He just didn't admire them in that way anymore.

"Yeah, a hero name." Taking a brief moment to neaten up the table, Futsuko repeated herself. "It's one of the most important things for any hero. Kinda defines what you want the public to see you as."

Izuku knew that, but it didn't make the question any easier. He glanced over at Himiko, but her smile held no answers. But, really, he had to answer it eventually.

"I'll… I'll have to think about it." He coughed, attempting to change the subject. "But, you failed the exam?"

The woman finally finished organizing the various stacks of paper, picking up the stack of flyers as she turned back to Izuku. "Yeah, sadly."

"So… what did you do?"

If Izuku failed, he genuinely wasn't sure what he'd do. He had never even considered the option. No, he refused to consider the option. But, with his fight with Katsuki on record, he had to be worried about getting into U.A. even if he did pass the exam.

And so, seeing someone like Futsuko felt… odd.

She had failed. But she at least seemed to have moved on.

And Izuku wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Futsuko took a deep breath, and gave a weary smile, the tired sort of someone who always worked too hard and never got enough sleep. She gestured at the table, tapping on a magazine with her hand. "This."

There was a bit of quiet, the only sounds being those of the shuffling mall-goers, but then she looked back at Izuku. "Izu-kun, was it?"

"O-oh, uh-!" Izuku blushed, glancing over at Himiko. "I-Izuku. She just gave me a nickname, and…"

"Oh, sorry!" Futsuko laughed at her mistake, but continued on. "Well, Izuku, things don't always go according to plan. That's just how life works. It's hard, and especially for quirkless or mutants. Have to deal with the cards life dealt us, after all."

She paused, and sighed. For a moment, Izuku could see something in her dark eyes, a sadness, a…

A loneliness.

She hadn't gotten over it. Maybe she had kept going, but failure was failure, and it hurt. Izuku understood that feeling intimately, and seeing that in someone else made his heart ache.

Futsuko scowled, her lips becoming a thin line. "When I was rejected, I had a choice. Either give up, or try and use what I had. I'm not strong, or rich, or powerful. But i got a knack for writing, so now I write articles for Equalist Youth." She slapped one of the magazines, a thin paper one that looked to be printed on low quality paper.

She passed Izuku one of the magazines, and he took a moment to just look through it. It was small, and poorly formatted, as though it had just been thrown together on a laptop. A half dozen articles, each made by a different person. It…

It looked so small.

So useless.

Closing the magazine, Izuku looked up to see Futsuko forcing a weak smile. He cleared his throat, and put the magazine in his bag for later.

Izuku felt his heart tighten a bit. "... Do you really think it helps?"

" I hope so! There isn't much else I can do, so I try my best with this!" Futsuko shrugged, as though she didn't even want to answer it herself. "Say, do you like writing?"

"Huh?" The sudden change of direction surprised Izuku. Did he like writing? That really depended, what sort of writing? And why was she even asking? "Well, uh, sorta. I enjoy reading, at least."

"Well, that's an important part." She laughed, plucking up and extra flyer to hand him. "The party's magazine, The Black Flag, is hosting a youth writing competition for middle and high schoolers, the article is due in a few months. There are a few loose guidelines, but really, you can write almost anything. If you do well enough, they might even make you a regular like me!"

"Huh…" It wasn't what Izuku was expecting, that was for sure. But, looking over the flyer, he couldn't say he minded. He had never written anything before, but a few spare ideas did bubble to the surface. If nothing else, it didn't hurt to look into. Folding up the flyer, he slipped it into his pants pocket, before smiling at Futsuko. "Thank you."

"Hey, no problem!" Taking a step back, she gives Izuku a final thumb's up. "And good luck on that entrance exam! We quirkless could use our first hero. See you, you two!"

And with that, she left the two, going to talk with more mall goers.

It felt weird.

Meeting another quirkless was a rare experience. Other than Futsuko, the only other one's he had met were extremely old. So, to meet on his own age, that was actually out trying to make the world better…

Izuku smiled to himself, a warm feeling in his sore chest.

Finally, he turned to Himiko, snaking his hand into hers. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Hm…" A grin spread on the blonde's face as she thought, her hand happily intertwining with his. "Wanna look around for a bit?"

"Sure!"

But one thought still lingered.

What did he want his hero name to be? What did he want to be seen as?

Heroes needed to change. And he needed to become the catalyst.

A/N: 'I should be back to a regular update schedule soon.'

*laughs in liar*

I'm really sorry about the wait, everyone. Schoolwork hit me like a train, and CATLT sadly had to take a back seat for a bit. I promise though, this story ain't gonna be abandoned, so don't worry about that.

If nothing else, there's at least that this is the longest chapter yet! Coming in at 11,688, I eventually had to cut this off because it was getting too long. Hopefully, the next chapter will come out a lot sooner!

Also, the CATLT Discord is doing quite well! With about thirty members, it's a pretty active little server, with us hosting our first anime night tonight at 9 PM EST! If you want to join our chill little community, feel free to DM me, and I'll send ya the discord code!

With only the worst of intentions,

Imp the Nefarious