disclaimer: neither I or bunnyscribe own MHA or Mob Psycho 100

Victory is in the Journey

By: bunnyscribe (AO3)

Mob politely insists that Izuku take a break, which he resists until All Might finally agrees. He winds up sitting on the sidelines for most of an hour, perched on an old dresser. He gulps down four water bottles in a relatively short amount of time and is left with a nauseous feeling, churning in his stomach. Despite the discomfort, he keeps fidgeting, antsy to move and start training again. It's been awhile since he took a break like this and he can't say he likes it much.

Mob meanwhile, has been helping move the trash. He gets such an impressive amount done in a relatively short amount of time that Izuku can't help but be a bit jealous. But, he notes, Mob seems to be in even better shape than he is now, even after a few months on the American Dream plan. Sometimes he'll stand over the heavier objects for a minute or two, staring at them intently, before putting up a hesitant hand and moving it with the help of his quirk. But, he primarily seems to be focused on picking things up with his own strength.

Izuku desperately wants to help him, if only for the chance to interview Mob about his quirk and all the uses it has. He can feel All Might side eyeing him though, and knows if he gets up, his mentor will only scold him and have him sit down again. So, instead, Izuku takes the time instead to jot down notes. Slowly but surely, he inserts Mob into his hero analysis book as the first entry to not be a pro-hero.

A little doodle of the boy sits on the left side of a page, where he's standing in his gym uniform. Little arrows point to his face and his arms, marked with notes reading expressionless and lean muscles respectively. The right side is filled with little scribbled notes, briefly describing his telekinetic quirk. Even from a distance, Izuku can tell the amount of power behind it seems to fluctuate, if only slightly, ebbing and flowing like a wave. He can't help but wonder if it's some kind conditional thing that surrounds his quirk like some kind of limit to the strength behind it.

He doesn't realize he's mumbling until All Might comes over and clasps him on the shoulder. "Young Midoriya, you're going to make your voice go hoarse one of these days," he says with a weak laugh.

Izuku startles, his hand jolts sending the pen across the page. "O-Oh! All Might!" He looks down at the scribbled line that now slashes across the paper, cutting through some of his notes, and then up at All Might. "Sorry, I was just…just trying to figure out how Mob's quirk worked."

"There is no reason to apologize my boy. It's quite an endearing trait of yours, let's me get to see your mind at work." All Might taps the side of his head with his pointer finger, grinning as Izuku flushes. Before Izuku can get too rattled, already able to feel an embarrassing amount of words piling up in his throat, All Might looks up. His expression morphs into contemplation, his sunken face dropping into a frown. "He is a very strange boy, isn't he?"

Izuku glances over to where All Might's looking and finds Mob, who currently has two tires hefted on each shoulder. He moves like they're weightless, carrying them over to the dumpster across the way. "Yeah," Izuku says. "He seems a little...awkward? No, oblivious maybe? No, that's not the right word. I don't know, I don't know how to describe him."

"No, I think I know what you mean," All Might says. "He seems perceptive, but lacks the conscious thought to back it up." He brings a hand up to his chin and then glances back to Izuku. "Perhaps we should work a bit more on a story behind why I am training you, besides you being my successor. Someone more aware would probably have been suspicious had we acted the way we did when you were recognized."

"Yeah, no, I was thinking that too," Izuku says, bringing his hand to his chin and unconsciously mirroring All Might's gesture. "Maybe we can say you were an old boxing coach?" he suggests. "And you're retired now because of your injury, but you took on one more student!"

All Might sputters, a spray of blood flying through the air with the choked out laugh. "A boxing coach? What are you on about?"

"You know, because of your punches!" Izuku says, balling up a fist and rocking it back and forth to emphasize his point. His voice drops into a hushed tone, the one he uses when he's thinking out loud. "Plus, it's enough of the truth that people won't ask a ton of questions. They always say the best lies have a bit of truth in them."

All Might snort interrupts his train of thought. "I d-"

"Um, excuse me."

Whatever All Might was about to say is cut off, both his and Izuku's heads jerking up. Mob stands in front of them, head tilted. At first glance, Izuku thinks Mob hasn't been affected by all the physical labor he's been doing. His hands lay lax at his sides and he appears to hold no tension from straining his muscles.

However, taking a second look, it's clear to see the sheen of sweat on Mob's forehead. He sways a little and his breaths are quiet but raspy as if he's trying to politely mask his exhaustion. Izuku wonders if it's something he's consciously thinking of or if it's just a natural part of who he is.

"I need to go home soon," Mob says. "My family will start to worry if it gets too late."

All Might nods, slapping his hands on his knees and pushing himself up. "I suppose it is getting quite late, isn't it? Midoriya, my boy, you should probably head home as well. You don't want your mother to worry."

"Ahh, wait!" Izuku shoots up, frantically waving his hands at Mob. "I still have so many questions I haven't got to ask you yet!"

Mob tilts his head, "About what?"

"About your quirk!"

"Oh," Mob says. He shuffles his feet, hunching a bit more into himself. "It's not very interesting."

"What?" Izuku says, feeling his voice raise an octave or two. "What's not interesting about a quirk that lets you pick up stuff with your mind?"

Mob stares at him blankly. "It's not a very useful quirk so I don't like to rely on it too much." Izuku tried to interject, tries to tell him how extremely useful it is, but the next thing Mob says stops him in his tracks.

"Besides," he says, "quirks aren't everything. It's still possible to help others without using one."

Izuku swallows, thinking of his own quirkless status. "Y-Yeah," he says, "I guess you're right." He can feel All Might's piercing gaze on the back of his neck. "But still, I'd like to know more if you're willing to tell me. I know that you have to leave, but do you have a phone or anything so we can keep in contact?"

Mob pauses, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a flip phone covered in red, white, and blue, yellow stripes running across it.

Izuku stares, stunned. "Oh my god," he says, breathy. "Is th-that...Is that the first All Might themed phone? From right around his debut?"

Mob looks down at the phone, confusion in his eyes. "I don't know," he says. "My master gave it to me for work."

"Ma-May I…" Izuku reaches out with trembling fingers. "May I see it?" he asks, voice small.

All Might snorts.

"Sure," Mob says, and passes the phone over to him.

Izuku turns it over in his hands, looking at it from all angles. He can feel his inner fanboy squealing to the high heavens, as he holds a piece of merch that's older than himself. He flips it open, admiring the stars on all the buttons. He presses a couple, pulling up the contact list. There's only a single number saved, under the name 'Reigen'.

Midoriya adds himself and reluctantly gives Mob back the phone. "Thank you," he says.

"No problem," Mob says, "It's just a phone." He looks over at the water, the sun starting to dip below the horizon and hums. "I think I'm going to go now," he says, looking back at Izuku and All Might. "It was nice to meet both of you."

"The same to you, young man," All Might says, grinning. "Hopefully, we'll see more of you in the future. We wouldn't mind your help again in the future!"

"Hopefully," Mob says, "I had fun today." Though the blankness of his face doesn't show if he actually means the sentiment. He starts to walk away and then pauses, seeming to realize something. He turns back around, gives a small wave, and then disappears behind the rather impressive amount of garbage left.

"What a strange boy…" All Might says, bringing a hand to his chin.

Izuku nods in agreement, staring at the spot of the beach that Mob completely cleared of debris.

.-.-.

Mob winds up meeting Reigen early the morning of the exam, his master taking him out for breakfast at a small restaurant right up the road from his office.

It's a bit dingy in the way that most of Spice City is. There are cracks in the ceiling that sometimes leak when it rains, the tables, chairs, and even the plates are a mismatch of shapes and styles, and the waiters are dressed very casually in ripped up jeans and tee-shirts covered by stained aprons.

The food comes out quickly though and the waiters are very friendly, and so they quickly became regulars here, often dropping by after work.

"H'eat hup Mob!" Reigen says around a mouth full of food. He swallows and jabs his fork repeatedly towards Mob's plate. "You're gonna need your strength to get through today. Big exams don't exactly pass themselves, ya'know?"

Mob snaps out of his thoughts, looking up from his lap to his plate. He takes a small bite of his rice and fried egg.

Reigen frowns at him, putting his fork down. "What's are you thinking about?" he asks. "Cause with that expression, it doesn't look like anything good."

Mob hesitates. He takes another bite of his food to put off answering, but Reigen's watching him intently, waiting for an answer and Mob knows his master well enough that he's not going to get away without giving one. He puts his fork down.

"Master, am I cutthroat at all?" he asks.

Reigen blinks. "Where did that come from?"

"Takenaka-kun said people at U.A. are going to be very competitive and aiming for the top. I don't know if I can do that."

"Mob," Reigen says, voice serious. "If the people there are only aiming for the top and not more concerned with helping others, then they're people you shouldn't concern yourself with." He takes a large sip of his soda, slurping it through the straw. "Besides, even if you're not competitive in the slightest, you've got other things going for you."

"Like what?" Mob asks.

Reigen pauses, bringing a finger up to the side of his face and looking thoughtful. He jolts in realization, his finger pointing skyward. "You've got charm."

"Charm?"

"Yeah, exactly! Charm," Reigen says, his gestures grow more confident. His hand movements are wild but fluid, pointing and swaying in different directions to emphasize his point. "Charm that you earned, remember? You work hard at the agency, you work hard at school, you work hard at everything you do. And if people can't see that in you, then they're just not looking hard enough at you to notice."

"I've got charm," Mob mummers, bring a hand up to his face. There's a little pop in the air, a tiny electric zap of telekinetic energy. The bowls on the table rattle and the forks levitate upwards. It only lasts for a split second before they drop, leaving behind only a warm glow.

Reigen grins, looking relieved. "That's right," he says. He shoves his fork towards Mob's plate again. "Now eat up, we've gotta hurry so you're not late!"

This time, Mob complies, shoveling his food down as quickly as he can.

Reigen covers the bill by barely paying anything. He whips out a tiny little organizer and pulls out several coupons that the staff had given him as rewards for his loyalty, reducing the bill to almost nothing. He looks a bit smug about it, but Mob sees him slip a little bit of yen to the waitress before they leave.

They walk together in near silence to the nearest Spice City train station. Mob stares straight ahead, his mind on a single track to get to the exam, his subconsciousness attempt to smother down his nervousness. Reigen opens his mouth to speak quite a few times, but every time he looks over at Mob, purses his lips, and says nothing.

Fifty-two.

It's only when he's seeing Mob off that Reigen speaks again. "Don't be afraid of your quirk, Mob," he says. He slings an arm of Mob's shoulder and grins down at him. "It's a part of you like any other, use it like you need to pass the exam. This is your master giving you permission."

Mob pauses, his body tensing only momentarily. A flash reaction that's gone almost immediately. After a moment of hesitation, he nods. "I will," he says quietly.

Reigen grin softens into a smile, his face gentler and calmer than Mob's seen in a while. He pats Mob's shoulder before letting go. "I know you will. Make me proud, Mob. Now go!" He quickly switches back into that explosive energy, ushering and pushing Mob on to the train. "Don't be late!"

The doors close behind Mob with a hiss that reminds him of elevators. The train begins moving down the tracks and he watches out the window until the waving figure of Reigen disappears behind a mass of people.

Fifty-three.

.-.-.

Izuku comes to find out U.A. is even fancier on the inside than it is on the outside.

He's herded into a large auditorium with hundreds of U.A. hopefuls, attendants beginning to pass out cards for the seating arrangements. As he waits for his name to be called, he stares up at the ornate designs carved into the high ceilings, trying to figure out how they got there.

All the while, he can feel power humming inside of him, can almost hear it. It's odd and foreign, definitely not fully integrated into his system, but the bright warmth of it makes him sure it's the power of One for All. It's enough to make him giddy, even on top of all of his nerves.

Plus, he talked to a girl. A real-life girl, who caught him when he fell and wished him good luck on his exam. She was sweet and she had a nice smile, and he actually talked to her.

It feels like nothing can take him down now.

At least that's what he believes until he sees Kacchan sitting in the seat next to his assigned one.

Izuku feels himself hunch, a reflexive movement to make himself as small as possible. His hesitation to sit down cost him, the pause long enough to draw Kacchan's attention to him. Kacchan glare is fierce enough to send a shiver down Izuku's spine, but Kacchan quickly goes back to pointedly ignoring him.

"Oh," a small, monotone voice suddenly says behind Izuku. "It's you."

Izuku turns and is met with the sight of a boy with a bowl cut, his school uniform entirely black with yellow buttons running all the way down the jacket. It takes a moment to place who it is, but when Izuku does, his jaw drops in surprise. "Mob?"

After that day on the beach, Izuku and Mob had been keeping in on and off contact with each other. They hadn't met in person, Izuku had been too busy with his training and Mob had said he was busy with work. However they had occasionally texted and from those conversations they had, Izuku gathered little bits of information on Mob's life. He had a brother, he exercised almost daily with the Body Improvement club at his school, and he worked a part-time job on the side. Izuku had asked about his quirk as well but only had received vague and rather dry answers.

But still, Izuku had enjoyed talking to him. It had almost been like having a friend if only a long distance one.

"What are you doing here?" Izuku asks, voice a slightly higher octave than normal. He can feel Kacchan's eyes on his back.

"Taking the entrance exam," Mob says, tilting his head. "Isn't that what you're doing?"

Izuku snorts. "No, no, I mean," he gestures towards the crowd, "I didn't know you were applying here."

"Oh, yeah, my Master said I should," Mob says, glancing down at the crowd of people sitting in front of them. He's as blank-faced as Izuku remembers during their first encounter, his thoughts entirely unreadable. He looks back at Izuku. "I didn't know you were applying here too though," he says, "Is that what all your training was for?"

"Ye-Yeah," Izuku says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hopefully it pays off. I-I mean, I just really want to get in."

"I think you will," Mob says and pauses, staring at Izuku as if he could see inside of him. He gives a little nod a second later as if reconfirming his point in his head. "You will. You've worked hard for this."

Izuku grins, the sure tone of his voice filling him with a warm comparable to One For All. "Thanks," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "That means a lot."

Mob opens his mouth to say something else but doesn't have time before the lights dim down and everybody's scrambling to get into their seats. Izuku almost falls on the floor in an attempt to get into his, pulling the chair out to far and then going to sit down too quickly. He catches himself well enough, but not before hearing a tiny laugh to his left. However, when Izuku looks up, he finds Mob as stone-faced as ever.

After some loud yelling, Present Mic (the actual real life Present Mic, in person!) explains the rules of the exam. It's rather simple in all honesty, destroy all the robots you can and avoid the one pointers.

Izuku has mixed feelings about the arena he's been assigned. On one hand, he's not with Kacchan which he's secretly grateful for. But on the other, he's not with Mob and that's disappointing because it would've been nice to know someone. The more he thinks about it though, it might be a blessing in disguise. He knows Mob is extremely strong physically and has what seems to be a rather powerful quirk on top of it. There's no telling how many robots would be left for Izuku after he was finished with them.

While Present Mic continues to explain, Izuku can feel Kacchan's eyes burning holes into him. If Izuku knows him, he's probably wondering about Mob or he overheard the bit about training and is trying to figure that out.

Kacchan might be hot-headed, but he's not stupid.

The speech on how the exam will go goes pretty smoothly, though at one point Izuku gets scolded by a rather stern student for his mumbling. The attendants start to guide people out afterward, calling for certain groups to take them to their respective testing grounds.

"Good luck," is all Mob tells Izuku before he disappears into the crowd.

Kacchan just glares, sauntering off to join his group. Izuku can feel the silent promise that he will be demanding details later but tries to brush it off. It's not like he can do anything about Kacchan right now. Besides, the thought of failure is way less terrifying than the thought of anything Kacchan can do to him after this.

Izuku can see the attendant calling for his group, but takes a second to steal his nerves before he goes. He closes his eyes, feeling as One for All thrums beneath his skin like it's pumping through his blood. He can feel it in his muscles, in his chest. It's a tool he can use to pass this exam, to enter into U.A., to achieve his dreams.

Now it's just about using it correctly.

.-.-.

Toshinori watches his pupil on the monitor, scrambling around as his peers decimate robot after robot. He clenches his fist into white knuckles, his nails leaving tiny crescents in his skin. It's almost enough to hurt in this skeletal form of his, which would be embarrassing if he wasn't so focused.

"Come on my boy," he whispers, tracking that tuff of green hair towards another screen.

He knows that Young Midoriya will pass, not because he has a hand in it, but through his own power. The boy is far too determined to do otherwise, but that doesn't mean it's not still absolutely nerve-racking to watch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Toshinori watches as the button to release the zero pointers is pressed.

Things happen in quick succession on after that. It's hard to keep straight as the action spans across multiple screens. A girl trapped on the ground. A boy flying through the air, his broken legs flapping behind them. A hand trailing purple as it raises up.

And then, on two separate screens, almost simultaneously, the judges watch slack-jawed as two zero point robots fall. The event is unprecedented. It's been years since even one giant robot was taken down, but two in a single exam is unheard of in all of U.A.'s history. They crumble like green skyscrapers, giant chunks of them crashing into the ground and leaving ginormous craters behind.

Toshinori grins. The spirit of self-sacrifice indeed. Looks like this year's class is going to be an interesting one after all.

To be continued...