Izumi had to admit, the katsudon was easily the best thing she had eaten in years. Still, even as Aizawa slurped his noodles down quietly across from her, all she could manage were a few bites here and there. It was... weird. She knew she was being unreasonable, and picky, and-
But could you blame her? This was all crazy. She wasn't talented. She didn't have potential. She was probably just going to end up either a villain or dead, alone, under a bridge somewhere. She was just a... 'Deku'. The word came unbidden to the forefront of her memory. She had been five when her Quirk came in - a full year after most kids developed their Quirks, usually. She didn't really remember too much about that because whenever she thought about it, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry washed over her. But she was a big girl, and big girls don't cry... or something.
The color of blond hair flashed through her mind's eye. She knew she had been bullied, logically, but she didn't remember it, so it was kinda like it didn't happen, right? She didn't realize that Aizawa-san was talking to her until he snapped his fingers in front of her a few times. "-lem child, problem child, you there?"
Izumi blinked a few times, flushing under the man's gaze. "H-hai!" She squeaked a bit louder than intended.
The man frowned at her. "Are you still hurt? I can treat your wounds if you need, I know you're against hospitals."
Izumi shook her head negatively, fast enough to give the hero whiplash just by watching. "Nope! I uh, I mean... No thank you. I was just... erm..." she fidgeted under the Underground Hero's gaze. "I was just... thinking," she finished lamely.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"Everything." Izumi shrugged helplessly. "It still feels a bit... weird. I've been told... I've been telling myself all my life that all I'm destined to do is be evil or die, and now you've suddenly come along telling me I have the potential to become a hero. At- at any moment, it feels like a camera will pop out of somewhere and people will laugh at me for believing something so... so stupid." Her voice broke at the end, and a few tears dripped down her face.
"Ah." Eraserhead leaned back, a look of understanding passing over his face as he got a bit more insight into what made this vigilante, this enigma tick. She needed proof. A show of good faith. Shouta laced his fingers together, thinking for a moment. "I see, Problem Child."
Izumi scowled, rubbing at some of her tear streaks. "Can you-" She rethought her sentence. "Please stop calling me that." She requested.
"No. Anyway, I can assure you, there are no cameras, no jokes. Just a society saturated with heroes who do things for fame and money rather than helping people, and a very, very small minority of people who actually wish to help and have true potential. Such as you, Problem Child." His original response was flat, almost sadistic, but an unnamed emotion flavored his voice for the rest of the words.
Izumi was still frowning, but she stared inquisitively at the Pro Hero now. "... you keep saying that I have potential. What do you mean by that?"
"You're willing to do the right thing without hesitating. There is no question of helping people - no "are there cameras trained on me? does this look heroic?"." He explained. He caught the girl's next question as she opened her mouth, her tongue slipping out. "I'm not saying all heroes are like that. But some of them are. And a lot of the children who want to be heroes - those are the heroes that they see. All Might, Endeavor, Mt. Lady, all those rookies with flashy entrances and big debuts- that's a poison for these children. They don't understand that, in this job, people die." Aizawa's eyes suddenly looked even more haunted than usual. "... and, it's not that rare."
Izumi was silent for a moment, twirling a fork in her fingers as she thought about her next words. Eventually, she seemed to come to a conclusion. "... and how do you want to help me?"
"Training, of course." The answer was so simple, but Izumi nearly managed to fall out of her stationary chair regardless.
"Trai-training?" She stuttered. Luckily, it was late enough that there were no other patrons at the restaurant.
Shouta nodded. "Training. And, eventually, to get you into Yuuei in order to supplement my training with things I can not give you, such as combat experience. You're what, twelve? Thirteen?"
The question wasn't offensive, but sent Izumi back into scowls. "Fourteen... I think." Aizawa wanted to groan at the addition, but held it in.
"Alright. Few more things, although I think I've already figured them out. Full name, parents, Quirk... or Quirks." He added on the end bit to open up the territory a little bit. Just in case. "Living status, schooling knowledge."
Izumi's scowl gave way to a pleading look. "Do I have to?" She asked. Shouta's face didn't move an inch, causing her to pout. "All the hard questions first..." She thought for a moment. "This might not all be accurate, so, just..." She thought for a moment. "Well, your fault for asking a street rat their personal info," she teased, but the hero's face still didn't move. "Right, no sense of humor, I forgot," she huffed. She held up her pinkie. "Well, first... Izumi Midoriya." Ring. "I don't want to talk about them, but my mom's dead, and you don't have to worry about my dad," she said mirthlessly, a small tear slipping down her face unbidden, "I was in foster care for a while." The tone indicated that there was no love lost between the families there. Her middle finger rose. "I'll... stick with telekinesis for now. Maybe I'll... It depends-..." She kept trying different angles, but couldn't find a good way to say it.
"The reason I'm asking is to help develop a fighting style for you," Eraserhead offered.
Izumi sighed in relief. "I don't use my other one at all, so then that's not an issue." The hero nodded. Hopefully, they'd progress down that route later. It, no doubt, had to do with why she had mentioned that she had thought she'd end up a villain. Her index finger rose, "Living situation is literally nonexistent. Have the stuff on my back, and that's about it." Thumb last, and she frowned. "I've- I've got a phone, and I, like... do an online school whenever I'm hurt and have enough money to buy food for a few days. Last time I was in school was when I was six, though..." she trailed off, her eyes looking downwards and her face flushed in what seemed to be shame.
Aizawa nodded. "Alright, then. You can come live with my partner and I."
Izumi's head snapped up. "What ?" Her voice didn't bother hiding her incredulity. "I- what- I mean- huh?" She couldn't seem to string together words. "I... don't understand..."
"You can-" Izumi shook her head rapidly, seemingly frustrated.
"No! I- I got that," she whispered. "I just... I don't understand why. Why are you helping me? Literally offering a literal stranger a place in your home?" Her gaze sharpened, and she gripped her eating utensils so hard that her knuckles turn white. "I'll have you know right now, if you're doing this just because-" she gestured to her body, making the hero recoil in what seemed like a mixture of confusion, horror, and disgust.
"No, Problem Child, I am not... propositioning you." He scowled at the word. "I might ask you to make dinners or do chores every now and then, but you would always be free to leave. You'd have your own room, with a lock and everything." Izumi visibly relaxed, breathing out a heavy breath.
"Al... Alright." The fork clattered to the table with a soft 'dink'. "Sorry, it's just..."
Aizawa nodded in understand. "I understand, Problem Child. Stop apologizing."
Izumi nodded. "Sorr-" She cut herself off and flushed, and the Underground Hero's lips twitched into a ghost of a smile for a moment. "I-... yes...?" The words came out more questioning than intended.
"We'll work on that," Shouta wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up, offering a hand to the girl across from him. "Well then, Izumi Midoriya, welcome to the family." A hint of a real smile might have tugged at the corner of Eraserhead's lips as the teen started to sniffle. But, if you ever asked him, he'd deny it vehemently.
There were a few things that Shouta had come to understand within the first few days of living with the girl. The first was simple - she didn't seem to understand that she was free to stay as long as she could. It was, no doubt, a product of the foster care that she had received. When he and Hizashi had first shown Izumi her room, she seemed impassive. Just a quick nod and muttering 'thanks'. Her eyes didn't seem to focus on anything, and she never unpacked her small bag.
The second was her gloves. She was wearing black and green gloves, and Shouta never saw her without them. From what he could tell, she also had two pairs of extras in her backpack, which was the extent of her clothing other than the sweatshirt she was wearing, her pair of ripped leggings, and, oddly enough... a faded shirt that said 'pants' on it in kanji. He resolved to rectify that as soon as possible, but there hadn't been a good day to go to the mall yet.
The third was that she seemed... insistent on doing anything that she possibly could around the house. When she wasn't enveloping herself in the bed like it was a paradise when she thought Aizawa wasn't looking, she was cleaning, cooking, writing things down. This most likely tied back into the first point, which meant that she was still worried that they were going to kick her out after a little bit, which made Aizawa want to scream.
The fourth, and the last, was that she was... scarily intelligent. Especially for someone who hadn't been to school since she was six. He looked up the school she had been going to on her phone, and quickly figured out it was an online university. She was doing university, homeless, at fourteen. And he had checked her scores, too - she wasn't acing everything, but she was far beyond simply passing those classes.
It showed up in other things too. She had... books of analysis. Like, pro-grade analysis. Those were the only things in her backpack other than her gloves, her phone, her staff, and some money. Apparently, she was writing off of things she watched on TV or encounters she had as a vigilante, which Aizawa found out she had been doing since she was eleven, which was a whole other can of worms that he wasn't about to get into. She wouldn't let him read much, though, seemingly embarrassed.
"Hey, Little Listener," Hizashi started from across the dinner table as they ate some, admittedly, pretty good curry with rice. "Who's your favorite hero?"
Izumi finished chewing slowly. "My favorite hero? I dunno... the Wing Hero: Hawks, maybe? Or maybe Mirko, the Rabbit Hero. They're both pretty strong, and they do their jobs without much extra damage."
Hizashi smiled. "Oh, some good choices Little Listener! I'm surprised, though, not All Might or Endeavor?" The difference in mood was instantly evident, and it felt like the temperature of the room rose ten degrees from the pure hatred Izumi stared at the table as she responded slowly.
"No." She spoke slowly, deliberately, choosing her words wisely. "All Might is... not a hero. Endeavor reminds me of my father." A few moments of silence ensued. "May I be excused?"
Shocked, Aizawa nodded slowly. Izumi quickly scampered away, leaving half a bowl of curry left on the table. He and Hizashi slowly looked at each other, staring for a few seconds, before Hizashi finally mouthed, 'What the fuck?'
"There's... so many stores," Izumi gasped with evident awe in her voice as they entered the mall. It was one of the nicer ones in the Shizuoka Prefecture, which they had driven to.
"Go wild, Problem Child," Aizawa said monotonously, plopping down on a bench in his sleeping back and quickly starting to zip it up. "Here's your card. It has a 100,000 yen limit, use as much as you need. Just get some clothes." As the sleeping bag finished being zipped up, Izumi could have sworn that she heard something like 'it's that damn evil rat's money anyway', but she couldn't be sure. Still, 100,000 yen? That was... ridiculous! Maybe it was some sort of test...?
She inspected the card, quickly recognizing the insignia. Yuuei... she snuck a look at Aizawa's sleeping bag. He had mentioned getting her into Yuuei. Maybe he was an alumni?
She was back in under half an hour, toting two small bags. She poked the sleeping bag. "Aizawa-san?" She questioned. The bag slowly unzipped.
"Oh, you're back..." He muttered. He eyed the two bags. "Where's the rest?"
"The... rest?" Izumi questioned.
Bloodshot eyes stared at the girl. "The rest of the clothes? Surely you got more than that with 100,000 yen." Izumi fidgeted a bit, not looking at Aizawa in the eyes. "Problem Child..." He sighed. "Clearly you aren't understanding this. We're here to get you clothes. Nedzu is more than smart enough to play the stock market, 100,000 yen is nothing to him." 'Nedzu? Who's that?' Izumi was pushed into action by Shouta emerging from his sleeping bag. "Alright, kid, we'll go shopping together, then."
Just how much more work did he have to do to prove to this kid that he wasn't trying to trick her?
"Alright, Problem Child, there's six months until the Yuuei entrance exam begins. You seem to already have some street smarts due to your extracurricular activities, but you need to hone that into true skill and a fighting style that you can readily fall into." Eraserhead spoke as he and Izumi stood together on the empty tennis court. "Alright. Attack me."
"E-eh?" Izumi questioned, unsure if she heard the man right.
"Attack me." He stood still, waiting for her.
Izumi toed forward warily. There were so many ways that- No. She had to trust him, at least a little bit. She took a deep breath in and pulled out her staff. Her eyes narrowed as she studied her teacher- her opponent. The same way she analyzed people when she was a vigilante. She barely was able to see his right foot shift before he lunged at her, almost too fast for her eyes to follow. She ducked and tried to swing her staff, but the Capture Weapon wrapped around it and tore it out of her grasp, which had most likely been the hero's intention all along.
Izumi frowned, but retained her composure. 'It's only a minor setback. I can just grab it back.' She reached out and pulled, but almost instantly, she felt a sense of hollowness spread throughout her body. The staff stayed put on the ground. 'Aizawa-sensei's Quirk! It's Erasure, which means...' She waited a few moments and felt her Quirk return, but just as quickly it was gone again, far too fast for her to do anything about her staff.
She grit her teeth and balled her hands into fists, raising them. She stayed light on her feet, bouncing, slowly closing the distance between her and her mentor. As soon as she got close, she lunged, only for the man to sidestep her and push her into the chain-link fence surrounding the court. "How disappointing," Aizawa said. "And here I thought you had potential..." No sooner were the words out until she lunged again, moving even faster than before. She pressed him back a few feet before lunging and grabbing her staff off of the ground.
"Without your Quirk, you're useless, huh?" 'Deku, deku, deku...' The word echoed in her ears, getting her blood pumping. Any plan she had even come close to forming was dispelled from her thoughts entirely as she rushed at the man. She felt her Quirk return and quickly grabbed at the man's foot, but the Pro Hero used the momentum to his advantage and flipped out of the way of her attack, once again training his eyes on her. She rushed forward again, swinging over and over with the staff.
"I'll show you 'useless'," she snarled, twirling the staff around her waist to hit him from the other side, but her left hand wasn't as dexterous as her right and her attack was too slow to hit. "I'm not useless!" She shouted, a tear leaking down her face. She planted the staff into the ground and used it as a balance to run along the fence, throwing a wild kick at the man. He looked almost... regretful as he dodged the blow, but that's what she was counting on as she slammed the staff into his unprotected side, using her body weight as leverage as she slammed into the ground for the attack, finally landing a blow on the man. She hit the ground hard, tears finally starting to run down her face. "I'm not useless... I promise..."
"Prob-... Izumi," Eraserhead said softly from above her. "I know you're not useless. But I needed to see how you would react in a situation like that, it was a... logical ruse." Even to the man, the words sounded hollow. He had pushed the wrong buttons far too quickly, and definitely not in the right scenario. For all he talked about his students being brash idiots, he had made a much more rookie mistake.
Izumi sniffled, pulling herself up into a sitting position as more tears streaked down her face. Her left side was scratched up, her gloves torn up thanks to the rough gravel around the edge of the tennis court. "Please don't leave me behind," she sobbed.
"I'm not going to, Izumi. I promise." The past two weeks of process had probably been destroyed by what he had just done, Aizawa noted with regret. He stood awkwardly as the teen's tears slowly subsided. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with crying children, especially not when it was his fault. He didn't like interacting with people - that's why he was an underground hero, after all. After about a minute, the tears had stopped flowing, although the green-haired girl was still sniffling.
"I'm sorry," the man offered.
Izumi sniffled, shaking her head. "S'not your fault... Makes sense..." She muttered dejectedly. Aizawa offered her a hand up, which she slowly reached to take before taking in the sight of her torn-up glove, instantly yanking her arm away like she was struck by lightning. "My glove!" Aizawa knelt down to question her, but the girl scrambled away. "You can't touch me!"
"... not without your glove?" Shouta guessed, taking off his glove preemptively. When the girl nodded, he tossed her his, which she gratefully took, quickly sliding it over her left hand.
"'s activated by contact..." The girl muttered, making sure the glove was secure and wouldn't come off. She pushed herself off the ground, frantically wiping at the tear streaks left behind and doing her best to put on a smile. "W-what's next, Aizawa-sensei?" She did her best to sound enthusiastic, but it fell flat.
Aizawa sighed. "Nothing. That's enough for today. Let's... Let's go home."