A familiar face from Did My Time joins this chapter, as well as more Midofam feels.
Also, Shahryar! Thanks for the review. My AO3 is linked in my profile (Angel_of_the_Axis on AO3), and Step By Step should be the very first fic that pops up on my page. I'm flattered that you want to read more already! :)
When he came back to awareness, he wasn't sitting up anymore. He was lying on something soft, and as he blinked, he realized he was tucked into his blankets.
As he slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head, daylight streamed through the solitary window and he realized he must have slept through the rest of the evening.
Mom must have tucked me in last night, he realized, and a pang of guilt shot through his chest. I need to apologize for yelling yesterday. Things are hard enough already without losing my temper.
As he got up for the day, Yoichi's words from before came back to him. "You cannot let him manipulate you like he did me. I truly believe he cared, once - but there came a point where he cared too much."
But how do I go toe-to-toe with someone I don't even know? He wondered, scratching his head as he shambled to the kitchen. You would have had the advantage, Yoichi. I can't even handle my emotions around him.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Tomura sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal. He paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, before his expression twisted and he set it back down into the bowl.
"Morning," Izuku tried cautiously.
"I should kill you right here, right now, just to make everything easier," the older man grumbled. "I don't care whether or not you are truly related to Sensei, nothing in this damned world will ever make me like you. I hate you."
The boy blinked, nodding slowly, and turned to exit again.
He patted the pocket of his jeans and frowned. Well. Guess I'll go see where a good cafe is for breakfast.
The very first cafe he stopped at was a quaint little place on the corner of a nearby street, with a cheerful light-blue and green sign out front and large windows overlooking the street. Inside he could see a couple of people sitting in the booths.
Little bells at the top of the doorframe jingled as he walked in, scanning the homey interior as a worker noticed him and began jaunting over with a bright smile on her face. The cafe was done up in the same light shades as the sign, with wooden floors and simple booths along the sides and small wooden tables and chairs in the center.
"Hi! Table for one?" She asked.
"Yes, please," he quietly replied, smiling back despite himself. "Could I have a booth?"
"Of course! Follow me." She grabbed a menu and some silverware and led him through the room.
Izuku followed her with his hands in his hoodie pockets. Once they got to a booth snug in the corner, he slipped in and she set the menu on the table.
"I'll be back in a moment," she told him, and walked away with her uniform skirt swishing behind her.
His eyes followed her back, brow furrowed as he picked up the menu. Scanning it quickly, he chose instead to look out the window with a pensive stare.
It was going to be another gloomy day, it seemed. Though it was still early in the morning, gray clouds gathered overhead and blocked out the colors of the sky. The streets were beginning to fill with people going this way or that to do their morning routines.
So many civilians. So many different walks of life.
Why did you decide to become a hero? He remembered asking his teacher once.
Aizawa had paused in looking out the window into the courtyard before looking him in the eyes with a quiet intensity that was rarely seen in their sleepy instructor. Because my life may not be meaningful in the end, but the people we save - civilians, government workers, fellow heroes, even vigilantes - they will never not be.
The echo of a memory burned his mind, caused a pang of hurt to well up anew in his chest - and he closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories of Yuuei. The good, the bad, the mediocre - he wanted to forget it all, lest the agony of recalling what he had would kill him.
"Hey, kid," a new voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see a vaguely-familiar face above. A young woman, likely in her early twenties, with shoulder-length light-blue hair that fell softly, the wavy ends touching her shoulders like waves on a shore, smiled down at him. Her matching blue eyes seemed kind. "Do you mind if I sit here?"
Izuku blinked for a second, trying to place where he'd seen her face, before shaking his head and replying, "Of course! Go ahead."
"Thanks." She slipped into the opposite side of the booth and leaned forward with a sigh. "Thought I'd grab a bit of breakfast before I head out for the day, and you looked lonely."
"What gave me away?"
"Your face." She gestured to her own. "It reminds me of my imouto."
He tilted his head.
"Ah, sorry about the wait!" The worker with the infectious smile was back. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were visiting today! Do you need a menu, ma'am?"
"No thank you, I know what I want." The older girl gestured to Izuku. "You were here first, you go ahead. I'll pay."
"You don't have to," he protested. "I have money."
"I want to." She winked. "Just to get you to look a little less sad."
"Oh, okay." Izuku slumped a little in his spot, but he continued, "I'll, um, have a matcha tea and the Super Stack."
"Perfect," the waitress nodded, scribbling in her notepad. "Would you like our mixed fruit blend or seasonal?"
"Mixed, please."
"Okay." She smiled at him before turning to his visitor. "And for you?"
"I'll have the matcha tea with the Monte Cristo."
"Okay, the usual it is!" The waitress bowed slightly before stepping away. "I'll get those out to you right away!"
She walked away, and for the first time, he realized where he recognized her from. "Wait, aren't you…?"
"Support Hero Fret." She introduced herself with a nod. "I usually come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays before work."
"That's really cool," he marveled. "I never would have realized it was you if your face hadn't been all over the news lately. You're good."
"Thanks, I guess." Fret laughed lightly. "Most people just pass me over, so I'm used to it."
"Why did you become a hero?" He asked, folding his hands in his lap. "I'm still thinking about it… but I've never heard the perspective of a Support Hero before."
"Well," she began, resting her chin atop her interlaced fingers, "When we lived in one of the northern islands, around the time my youngest sister was around two or three there was a tsunami that ended up displacing about a thousand people, including my family. My parents were at work that day and I was sick, so I was taking care of my imouto at home. Had it not been for a support hero pulling me out of the wreckage of our house, I would have died along with my sister. That's when I decided I wanted to become a hero: so that one day, I could pull others out of danger too."
"That's… really inspiring," he breathed. "Usually people say they only want to be one for the fame, or so they can beat up villains…"
"Yeah, no, that's not for me." She let out a laugh, waving her hand. "I don't care much for media attention, and I honestly don't care about beating people up. I just want to help where the big stars can't."
He studied her face. Her eyes were fond as she spoke, perhaps thinking about memories from long ago. There was a visible scar on her hand, wrapping around the inside of her pinky and stretching across her knuckles, one that she rubbed absentmindedly with her thumb as she talked.
When a lull came in the conversation, he smiled at her genuinely, and said, "You're a really good hero, Fret."
Her eyes widened a fraction, but then she returned his look and softly replied, "Thanks, kid."
"Okay!" The waitress cheerfully announced her arrival, bringing two trays of food with her. "Sorry for the wait, here's your meal. Enjoy!"
"Thank you," both chorused as she bowed and walked away.
As they began to eat, he asked, "So what's your family like?"
She paused in sipping her tea, a thoughtful hum escaping her throat. As she swallowed and set the cup back down, she began, "Well, my dad is a marine biologist working for the government, trying to save endangered species. My mom is also a hero - but she works underground. Then there's my two little sisters… one's a first-year in university aiming for a music degree, and the other's around your age, probably first-year in high school. She's hoping to become a hero too."
"Wow," he breathed. Two heroes in one family, plus one aiming to become one? Did every hero in Besupin have family like this?
She laughed at his reaction, waving her fork slightly. "Now enough about my life - what about yours? What's your family like?"
Yagi's eyes lit up as he saw Izuku approaching from the stairwell, pocketing his phone. "Young Midoriya. I didn't expect to see you so quickly."
"Hi, Yagi-san," he greeted with a relieved sigh. "Where do you want to talk?"
"The roof will be free for now," he offered.
Izuku tried to smile, yet despite himself he couldn't help but recall the rooftop he'd been on when they first met. This city is bringing out all of my worst memories, isn't it?
The two of them leaned against the rooftop fencing, watching as the clouds slowly floated by. The streets were busier now, cars and people alike making for comfortable ambience that met their ears even from up high.
Yagi broke the silence first. "How is Inko?"
"She's…" Izuku hesitated. "She's… stressed."
A frown settled on the older man's face and he turned back to face the edge. "No doubt she would be. Perhaps I should visit soon."
"If you do, Shigaraki will kill you this time." He couldn't help the venom that dripped from his words.
Yagi looked at him again in concern. "Are you alright, my boy?"
Perfectly fine, just fine, he wanted to snap. Everything's fine and dandy and I'm doing great.
He swallowed those words and instead admitted, "I'm worried."
"About your mother?"
"How can I keep her safe?" He finally asked, turning his body to face his teacher with desperation in his eyes. "It's not fair, none of it is. I haven't known my father since I was a toddler and now he comes back to us as the exact same villain that's made it his life's mission to kill you! To kill us! Shigaraki tried to kill me, Yagi-san!"
Yagi listened solemnly as he ranted, hands folded atop the fence.
"And he has the nerve to tell me that we need to work this out together, as if he didn't abandon us!" He continued. "And he has the nerve to say he's my father! I don't need a father anymore, I have…!"
I have you, he wanted to exclaim. But the words were stuck in his throat, stubbornly refusing to be said.
"And now my mom has to deal with it too, and I just- I hate seeing her like that, Yagi-san. I hate how much stress she's under, not just from all of that, but…" he slumped. "I haven't been… the best of help lately, either."
A large, gentle hand rested atop his shoulder, and Yagi replied, "You're handling this remarkably well for a boy your age."
"How can I keep her safe?" He repeated, tears filling his eyes. "I don't want to lose the only person left who's been by my side since I decided I wanted to be a hero like you."
"All I can tell you is to keep up your guard around them," his mentor finally said.
"That's exactly what Yoichi told me." His voice was a mumble, but the man seemed to hear it anyway.
"Who?"
"Yoichi." He gave the blond a strange look. "The man in our Quirk? The first user?"
There was a heavy silence between them for a minute. Yagi looked torn between incredulity and outright shock.
Finally, shaking his head, he said slowly, "I have never heard anyone inside the Quirk. Are you certain, my boy?"
"I met him last night while I was meditating." He explained. "Apparently all other eight users are inside the Quirk - spiritually or something. Even you. But I guess you can't appear to me because you haven't died yet."
As he spoke, Yagi listened - and his face began to betray the silent shock he felt. "And…" he said, voice choking a bit, "... you say there are… eight? Inside? Eight spirits?"
Izuku's eyes softened and he nodded. "Yoichi said eight, including you."
"Nana…" his voice was so soft it could barely be heard, and the middle-aged man closed his weary eyes. "Why haven't I been able to tap into this part of it? First you find out there are other Quirks contained within… and now the souls of its users are kept within too?"
"I don't know," Izuku admitted. "But… if you want to talk to him…"
"Perhaps at a later time," the older man waved it off. "This is a lot to take in at once. I need to think this over."
He would have said more, but his phone buzzed in his pocket. Shutting his mouth, he pulled it out and read out a text from his mother, asking if he could come home.
Yagi noticed it and smiled gently. "Go see her. You can always contact me if you need to talk, Midoriya."
He was dreading walking in the door again. But when he announced that he was home, his mother appeared, looking a little better from the day before.
"Great news, Izuku," she said with a bright smile, just like she always did. "I just got off the phone with the principal of Besupin Academy when I texted you, and she says they want to have us in for an interview tomorrow!"
"R- really?" Hope swelled in his chest as his eyes widened. "They accepted my application?"
"Not yet, but they said they'd discuss it with us when we go!" She giggled, bouncing up and down. "Oh, honey, I'm so excited for you!"
Caught up in the moment, he swept her up into a hug. Her giggling turned into a surprised cry when he lifted her off the ground, her arms squeezing him tighter as a result.
When he set her back down, he looked into her face and tried to smile. "Mom, I'm… I'm really sorry for acting the way I have. I shouldn't have taken out my feelings on you."
Her eyes softened and she cupped his cheek. "Oh, baby, I haven't blamed you. I never blamed you. This is tough on everyone. I'm sorry for not having a chance to properly prepare you for this."
"I'm really sorry," he apologized again. His throat was tightening even as he spoke.
"Please don't cry," she pleaded, seeing the tears that were welling up in his eyes. "You'll make me cry too!"
She pulled him back in for a hug, and he hid his face in her hair. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, Izuku," she sniffled, rubbing his back. "We'll get through this together, just like we always have. You and me, remember?"
He nodded, and he felt his tears dampen the top of her head.