Izuku waved goodbye to his friends, his face stretched into a huge smile. Lowering his hand and turning away from the cafeteria, his smile quickly turned into a scowl. He had ten minutes until lunchtime was over and he'd be required to return to his class. Before then, he wanted to take a look around.
Making his way outside, he dropped his backpack to the ground and glanced around to make sure he was alone before scaling the rough walls of the school, his eyes fixed on the top of the building. Once he reached the top, he wiped the sweat out of his eyes and leaned over to take large gulps of breath. He allowed himself only a moment of rest before he walked to the edge of the roof, taking in the large expanse of UA's property.
"It's so big," he wondered out loud, walking around the perimeter of the building at a leisurely pace. Everyone was still in the lunchroom, so it was almost certain no one would see him up here. He glanced at his watch. Only eight more minutes until he needed to be in class. He picked up the pace, jogging around the building, scaling over more walls and dropping to lower roofs.
"Nothing too interesting," he muttered to himself. A large person caught his eye, and he immediately dropped to the ground, peering over the edge at the hero who had caught his attention.
All Might. It was hard not to notice the hero. Even without his hero costume, his figure was large and impressive. But Izuku knew that wasn't his real form. He had seen the real All Might almost a year ago, on the roof of a building close to Izuku's home.
His eyes narrowed, and Izuku grabbed the knife on his belt as his heartbeat echoed in his ears. His vision blurred to the point where he could barely even see All Might, and he forced himself to roll over and stare at the sky instead.
Calm down. He's talking to someone. What are they saying? Who are they? Focus, Midoryia. Izuku sucked in a breath before flipping back over and staring over the edge once again.
All Might stood, his face angled down as he spoke to a blond-haired boy, from the look of his uniform, another UA student. Izuku's eyes narrowed as he stared at the top of the boy's head, unable to see his face from that angle. His skin began to itch, and he once again glanced at his watch. Two more minutes. I wish I could hear what they're saying.
After another minute, All Might waved to the boy before departing, and Izuku glared after him for a moment before looking back at the boy. The student stood there for a second before walking toward the nearest entrance. Turn around, turn around, turn around, Izuku prompted him, his fingers gripping the side of the building so tightly they began to turn purple.
The student paused with their hand on the door before turning back in the direction All Might had gone, giving Izuku a clear look of his face. Izuku's grip on the building relaxed, and he watched slack-jawed as the boy turned and entered the building, letting the door close behind him.
Izuku turned to lie on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. Of course. Mirio Togata. All For One told me about him. He's one of UA's "Big Three," one of the most powerful students at UA. And of course, he interns for Nighteye, All Might's previous sidekick. It's likely Nighteye recommended him to All Might.
Without even thinking about it, Izuku found himself unraveling his wraps, letting them fall to the dirty roof. He gripped his knife firmly, his thoughts on what All For One had told him.
"No doubt All Might is waiting for the Sports Festival. He's likely to pick a winner to pass his quirk onto. We will need to keep a close eye on the victors. Then you can make your move, Izuku."
All Might's not likely to choose a first year to receive his powers, Izuku thought, his shoulder jerking as a shock went up his arm. But he might. Wouldn't it be a good idea to sway the results in our favor? His eyes narrowed, and he pushed himself into a sitting position as he glared toward where Mirio had disappeared.
In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on you, Mirio Togata. Watch your back.
—
Deku sighed as he adjusted his bag over his shoulder, glad to hear the last peal of the bell echoing down the hallway. Finally, he thought. Who knew going to UA would be so boring? He directed his gaze at the ceiling as he followed the flow of students to the nearest exit. Class 1-C had had their first collaboration with the Business Course that evening, an encounter which had cemented Izuku's decision to join the support course in the future. So dull.
"Izuku!" someone called, and he turned to see Uraraka waving at him. Ida raised a reserved hand from where he stood next to her, Class 1-A milling around behind him. At the sight, Izuku bit the inside of his lip so hard he drew blood.
He approached the two of them with a smile on his face, but his eyes were on Bakugo, who glared daggers at him, his eyes practically smoking as Izuku approached his classmates. Some things never change.
"Hey guy," Izuku greeted. "Did your evening classes go well?"
"Much better than this morning," Uraraka admitted, sighing heavily. "But still hard work. I thought the quirk training was going to be difficult, but I think the academics are even worse."
Izuku laughed. "That's right. It must be hard to focus on both at the same time. I admire your abilities." They passed through the entrance of the school, and the group drifted to stand on the grass so they could talk uninterrupted.
"I could help you study, Uraraka, if you ever find yourself falling behind," Ida offered.
"Thank you! You can bet I'm gonna need it." Uraraka smiled sheepishly.
"Hey, Deku!"
Izuku's smile froze, and he turned slowly to see Bakugo standing five feet from him, his expression only slightly calmer than before. Izuku took in the crowd of students walking toward the front gates and wondered what Bakugo was doing. There's no way he would try to attack me again . . . is there? Didn't Eraser Head punish him for this morning?
"Hello, Kacchan," Izuku responded, resorting to the bully's childhood nickname. Two could play at this game.
"Don't call me that," Bakugo snapped.
"Don't call me Deku, then." Izuku shrugged, discreetly sucking in a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Just leave. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this.
Bakugo glared at him. "You didn't answer my question earlier, quirkless."
"And what was that?"
"Where did you go? You disappeared for ten months. Your mother was worried sick. And, now that I think about it, so was mine." Bakugo crossed his arms, a smug smile crossing his face. "We had posters of your dumb face plastered all over our neighborhood for months."
He did that on purpose. Izuku's gaze went to Ida and Uraraka, who both stared at him with expressions mixed of shock and concern. He wanted them to know. Man, I wish I could . . .
"Do you remember what you told me the day before I 'disappeared?'" Izuku asked. "Something about roofs and reincarnation."
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Maybe you should take your own advice."
"You little—" Bakugo lunged toward him, but Izuku held up a hand.
"Go home." Izuku's tone flattened, and he glared at Bakugo, watching as his brain slowly went through all of his options. In the end, common sense won out, and he grunted before turning around and striding down the walkway, his footsteps loud even from where Izuku was standing.
His eyes narrowing, Izuku stared after the boy for a moment. Figures. He's too much of a coward to attack me here. Not in front of all these witnesses. Izuku's fingers brushed the handle of the knife stashed under his shirt. Lucky for him. His lips inched into a grin.
"What was that about, Deku?" Uraraka asked from behind him.
Izuku's blood froze at the insult coming from Uraraka's lips, and in such a sweet tone too. He didn't turn around, instead lowing his head so his hair covered his eyes. "Don't call me that," he said, struggling to keep his tone from souring any more than it already was.
"Oh." She sounded hesitant. "I just—Bakugo's been talking about you all day and calling you 'Deku . . .' I figured it was a childhood nickname or something, since you guys knew each other before."
"Oh, it's a childhood nickname alright." Izuku sighed and forced himself to let go of his death grip on the knife. Keep it together, Midoryia. "It means useless. Worthless. Quirkless. You get the idea."
Uraraka gasped softly. "I am so sorry, Izuku." She fell silent for a moment. "You know, it kind of sounds a bit like the Japanese phrase for 'you can do it.' It's kind of inspiring, actually."
"I don't care what it sounds like," Izuku snapped. "My name is Izuku, or Midoryia if you prefer. Never call me 'Deku' again."
"I understand." Her voice was soft, and Izuku pressed his fingers against his left forearm as hard as he could stand. He spun around, smiling broadly as he released his grip.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you, Uraraka. Bakugo always puts me on edge. He's been bullying me ever since we were children." He frowned and lowered his head. "I'm ashamed to say sometimes it gets to me."
"That's okay." Uraraka smiled at him. "I shouldn't have pressed the issue. I like your name. Izuku. It's perfect."
"Thank you." Izuku raised a hand to wave at her, including Ida in his gaze. "Well, I better get home or else my mom's gonna be worried. I'll see you both tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure thing!" Uraraka smiled, her eyes practically shining as she waved goodbye.
"See you tomorrow, Midoryia." Ida nodded toward him, and Izuku quickly turned and walked away, his heart thumping in his ears.
That was close, he thought. You have got to keep it together. The harder he tried to calm himself, however, the louder his heartbeat became, and the less he was able to form a coherent thought. Shoot, he finally realized, stopping in his tracks and gazing at the sky through the towering buildings above him. There's no avoiding it.
Fingers shaking, Izuku pulled out a burner phone from a hidden pocket inside his pants, sewn there by his own hands after his mother had bought them. He flicked the phone open and pressed the only number in the contacts before bringing the phone up to his ear, listening to it ring. Almost immediately, the ringing stopped, and silence echoed through the line. It almost seemed like no one was there, but Izuku knew that wasn't true.
"Tonight," Izuku whispered. "Where?"
"I'll find you," came the reply, and then a loud click as the call ended. Izuku sighed and tossed the phone to the ground before stepping on it, shattering the device.
"Very well," Izuku mumbled, leaving the scraps there as he made his way home. "Play your games. I'll be ready."
—
Izuku brushed the hair out of his eyes, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders as he trekked into UA. Man, I really should've planned this out a bit better. His gaze darted around the mass of students around him, most of them happy and laughing. But at least All For One agreed to my plan. He closed his eyes briefly, sucking in a deep breath. Shigaraki didn't look very happy about it, though.
"Hey, Izuku," Uraraka said as she sidled up next to him. "Are you feeling better?"
Izuku blinked slowly, struggling to remember what she was talking about. Yesterday had been full of important events, and he was so tired he wasn't sure which she was referring to. "Uh . . . yeah." The memory struck him, and his fingers twitched, but all the anger over the incident had already drained out of him, injected into more important matters. "Thanks for asking."
Uraraka nodded, and Izuku noticed Ida was standing next to her. They're always together. His eyes narrowed. I wonder if they like each other.
"Good morning, Midoryia," Ida greeted him, and they stopped at the edge of an intersection. One path would lead to the General Studies section of the school, and another to the Hero Course. The other two would of course lead to the Business and Support Course sections of the school, but none of them needed to go down those paths. Not yet at least.
"Good morning, Ida," Izuku replied. "Are you ready for another day of hard training? I wonder what Eraser Head has planned for you today."
"Whatever it is, we'll face it head-on!" Uraraka shouted, squaring her shoulders and spreading her feet into a more steady stance. "And even if it's hard, we will prevail!"
Izuku's eyebrows rose, and his mouth twisted into a smile. They're so dramatic. "That's right!" He agreed, pumping his fist and smiling furiously. "You're going to do great!"
"Actually, Midoryia, I wanted to talk to you about something serious." Ida adjusted his glasses, and Izuku slowly turned to him.
"Eh?" Izuku lowered his hand and shifted his stance to face Ida, his eyebrows furrowing gently. Oh great, it's probably about yesterday.
"I hope you don't think I'm overstepping, but you see, what Bakugo said yesterday rather concerned me. You went missing for ten months? What happened? Does it have anything to do with the scar on your face?" Ida gazed directly into Izuku's eyes, and Izuku blinked. He wasn't expecting the boy to be so direct. That only made it harder to avoid the question. "I think, as your friend, it is my duty to express my concern for your well-being. Are you in any trouble? Do you need any help?"
Izuku fought the urge to laugh, his fingers automatically tugging on the edges of the wraps he'd secured tightly to his forearms that morning. "Don't worry. No matter what happened, I'm fine now. I'm standing right in front of you, smiling, see?" He grinned as wide as he could, hoping that would alleviate any of Ida's doubts. But Ida's eyes merely narrowed, and Uraraka stepped closer, frowning softly.
Dang it. Who are they to ask anyway? We've known each other for one day! Izuku forced himself to breathe deeply, expelling a slow, measured breath in an effort to keep his thoughts from spilling out of his mouth. He'd simply have to tell them the same story he'd told his mother. "I was kidnapped. In the process, I got hurt." He pointed to the scar on the right side of his face, grimacing as the memory of the incident breached his consciousness for a brief moment. "I was rescued, but I lost my memory for a while. That's why I was gone for so long." He shrugged, adjusting his backpack. "After a while, my memory returned, and I came back home. Really, it's nothing too important."
His two friends stared at him with their mouths agape. Even Ida's normally stoic demeanor seemed to leave him, revealing a shocked, somewhat scared young boy. Without a word, Uraraka hugged Izuku from the side, and he merely stood there, eyes wide as she squeezed him tight. Strange. She reminds me of Toga . . . only less bloodthirsty. The thought made Izuku smile, and he placed his hand on the back of Uraraka's head in an effort to return her affection.
Ida cleared his throat, gaining Izuku's attention. "I am so sorry." His lips screwed up into a grimace, and Izuku read his expression easily.
"Human trafficking," Izuku answered Ida's unspoken question. "I was saved, but many were not." His face darkened, and he frowned at the floor.
"That's horrible," Uraraka cried, stepping back from Izuku and wiping at her eyes, which were wet with tears. Izuku couldn't help staring at her in shock. Why was she crying? "I can't imagine how scared you probably were."
"Indeed, you're the strongest person I know," Ida agreed.
"Quirkless Deku? Strong? Yeah, right." A familiar voice scoffed from Izuku's side, and he stiffened as Bakugo purposefully ran into him, knocking him to the ground.
Uraraka immediately fell to the ground to check on Izuku, glaring up at Bakugo. "You bully! Take that back! Izuku's gone through more in the last year than you have in your entire life!"
"Yeah, like what?" Bakugo crossed his arms and smirked.
Ida glared at Bakugo, his expression hostile, but even he shot Uraraka a warning glance. Izuku, meanwhile, tugged on Uraraka's skirt, trying to prevent her from spilling his secrets, but it was no use. She was too fired up on his behalf to actually listen to him.
Uraraka stood swiftly, her face twisted up into a fierce anger that looked unnatural on her delicate features. "He was kidnapped and badly injured. Scared and afraid, without his memory, separated from his friends and family . . ." She began to cry, huge droplets of tears spilling down her cheeks, and Izuku stared at her, his mouth popping open in horror. Several students stopped at Uraraka's shout, watching the four of them with curious expressions.
Crap. I can't make a scene. Izuku jumped to his feet, grabbing Uraraka's arm. "Uraraka, please, he's not worth it, just drop it, please."
She shook her head, turning her angry brown eyes on him. "But what right does he have? He's had everything handed to him on a silver platter all of his life. A great quirk, amazing physical abilities, and who knows what else! You've been through so much more, and yet here you are, the first quirkless person to get into UA. That's impressive! Nothing Bakugo has done will ever compare to that."
Oh no. Izuku's eyes darted to Bakugo, not at all surprised to see the boy practically glowing red as he processed Uraraka's words. The students surrounding them began to whisper among themselves, their eyes appraising Izuku. He couldn't tell if they were impressed with his lack of quirk or disgusted, but knowing those with quirks, it was probably the latter.
Bakugo stepped forward, and Izuku's hand went to his knife, but the boy stopped, taking in the crowd of students around them and seemingly changing his mind about physically hurting Izuku. Whatever Eraser Head did to him on the first day after he attacked me must have scared him straight, Izuku realized. Maybe he threatened him with expulsion if he was caught fighting in school again. Before he could realize what he was doing, he smirked. This isn't elementary school anymore, Kacchan.
Bakugo's eyes widened as he saw Izuku's smile, and his right eye twitched. "Whatever, Deku. The only reason you were captured is because you're weak. I never would've been kidnapped, and I certainly never would've allowed myself to get hurt like that." He gestured to Izuku's face. "Let's face it. You're quirkless. Completely helpless. You need people like me to protect you." He jerked a thumb toward his chest, a haughty smile covering his face. "It's as plain as that disgusting scar on your face." He narrowed his eyes one final time and raised a fist in warning before he turned and began to walk away.
"You—" Uraraka started, jerking forward as if to follow him, but Izuku tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her back.
"Ochaco!" he finally yelled after a moment of struggling, and she stilled, turning her large brown eyes on his green ones. "That's enough. It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."
Her face fell, the features previously screwed up in anger now relaxing into pity. Izuku almost recoiled, but he stopped himself at the last second, only just managing to keep his face steady. "Izuku, what he said isn't true. You're stronger than most heroes."
"No," Izuku murmured, turning away as he released her arm. He brushed his scar, the skin rough and uneven. The ugly mark almost covered the entire right side of his face, making it impossible to avoid. "He's right. That day . . . I was weak. Too weak to fight, and too weak to give up." He closed his eyes as the memories swept over him, but he refused to dwell on them for too long, instead clasping his hand tightly around his knife to ground himself in the present. "But trust me. It won't happen again."
"Better get to class," a voice from behind said, and the three of them turned to see Eraser Head standing in the center of the hallway. He wasn't addressing them, instead looking at the group of students who surrounded them. After a moment, they seemed to get the hint, and the crowd slowly dispersed.
Crap! How long has he been there? Izuku clutched at his wraps, able to feel his pulse even through the layers of fabric. What if he heard my story? Is there any way he'd be able to tell I was lying? He probably knows a lot of heroes. What if he asks around and realizes no one knows who I am?
Eraser Head's tired eyes locked onto Izuku's, and he struggled to smile at the instructor. "Hi, sir. I think I should be getting to class now. I don't want to be late like yesterday." He bowed hastily.
"Yes. Yesterday." The hero's eyes darted to the ground, and he leaned over to pick up Izuku's backpack from where he had dropped it when Bakugo shoved him. "Can't go without this." He held out the bag to Izuku, and he accepted it, slinging it over his shoulder once again.
"Thank you, sir." Izuku nodded to Ida and Uraraka. "I'll see you guys at lunch, all right?" They nodded in return, although neither of them seemed really happy about it. Izuku ducked his head and stepped hastily in the direction of his classroom, feeling Eraser Head's heavy gaze on his back. I shouldn't have said anything. I should've just told them to mind their own business. His arms began to itch, and he scratched at them subtly, yearning to yank the wraps off. Gah!
"Izuku Midoryia." Eraser Head's soft voice called from behind, and Izuku paused, his hand clutching onto the handle of his knife for a moment. His mind quickly ran through all of the possibilities of what could happen next, and his lips narrowed into a thin, gruesome line.
"Yes?" he finally asked, spinning around and smiling softly with confusion, no longer gripping onto his knife. No doubt the trained hero would notice something like that.
"If Bakugo bothers you again, report directly to me." Eraser Head's eyes narrowed. "His actions toward a fellow student aren't those of a hero."
Izuku breathed a sigh of relief, and he bowed as he clasped onto the straps of his backpack. "Will do, sir. Thank you." The anxiety of Eraser Head discovering his secret abated, only to be replaced by another, just as aggravating thought. I wonder if he would treat me this way if I was his student. If I had a quirk. Maybe he thinks I'm weak. That he has to protect me from the big, bad bully. Izuku's eye twitched. They're all the same.
"Good." The bell rang overhead, signaling that they had one minute to get to their classes. "Come with me, you two. Class is starting." He nodded to Uraraka and Ida, and they both waved at Izuku before following their teacher down the hall.
Izuku scowled and walked to his classroom, taking a moment to tighten his wraps, which had come loose as he tugged on them. Afterward, he pulled out a burner phone from his pocket, a replacement for the one he'd disposed of the night before. This is becoming more frequent, he noted, sighing softly. He texted the only number in the contacts, a different one from the night before:
Tonight.
The response was almost immediate. An address and a time, encoded in a special language only Izuku would be able to decipher. Izuku committed it to memory before sliding out the SIM card from the phone and crushing it in his fingers. He dumped the remnants into the garbage can outside of his classroom right as the bell rang. He found himself somewhat excited as he slid into his seat, and he smiled at the blank phone.
At least this day will end on a high note.
—
Izuku flipped the welding mask off his face, brushing the sweat off his brow with the cloth on his forearm. Laying down his tools, he picked up the mask he was working on, using the dials to turn the metal plates. They moved smoothly with only a faint clicking sound to mark the change of position, and he smiled.
My designs were perfect. He turned the mask over, fingering the careful stitches he had sewn into the fabric on the backside of the mask in order to make it more comfortable. Of course. It may have taken me all night, but that should mean fewer prototypes until perfection. He was just about the place the mask over his face when he saw Shinso staring at him from across the room.
Izuku lowered the mask and waved at Shinso, smiling broadly. To his surprise, the boy walked toward him without any prompting on Izuku's part.
"Hello," Shinso greeted, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning against the table. The girl who worked next to Izuku cast him a nervous glance and moved away, taking all of her supplies with her. Shinso's eye flickered in her direction, but he ignored her rude behavior, and Izuku fought a grimace on Shinso's behalf. Calling attention to her actions definitely wouldn't help the situation.
"Hey, Shinso. What are you working on?" Izuku directed his gaze to the pile of scraps Shinso had been tinkering with moments before he'd left his station. Today they were collaborating with the Support Course in an effort to create something. They weren't given much instruction except to ask the Support Course instructor if they needed any help or advice. Izuku himself had talked to the man briefly, and his knowledge had been useful in the start of his project. Since then, however, he hadn't seen much of the instructor, as he'd been busy helping the other students who didn't even possess so much as a design.
"I was experimenting." Shinso looked away, frowning. "I was going to ask the instructor for help, but he seems busy."
Izuku's eyes traveled to the instructor, who stood surrounded by five students who had apparently chosen to collaborate on a project. It made sense that his attention would be captured by the louder students in the class. After all, even standing five feet from Shinso Izuku was having a hard time hearing him.
"Did you have anything in mind? Maybe I can help." Izuku went back to fiddling with the mask, making sure the plates could complete their full rotation. There were hundreds of tiny plates that required precise movement to ensure full functionality of the device. One of the plates stuck in place, and Izuku squirted oil onto it, mentally making a note to adjust the size of the plate later.
"Not really. I need something to enhance my fighting abilities, but that's less of a device and more of skill." Shinso shrugged and turned his attention back to the mask Izuku held. "What about you? What are you working on? Most of the students are working on support gear for their own quirks, but you don't have one, so you must be making that for something else. What does it do?"
Izuku's smile grew, and he adjusted the mask to its open position. "I'm glad you asked. Actually, Shinso, I'm making this for you."
Shinso's eyes opened wide, and he stepped backward as if the gesture made him uncomfortable. "For me? Why would you . . ."
"You're my friend," Izuku responded, picking up the back piece of the mask and securing the device around his neck. "When we talked about how your quirk worked, I couldn't help myself. It's powerful on its own, to be sure, but useless if an opponent knows about it. This should negate that fact."
"We talked about my quirk yesterday. How did you do this so fast?"
"I stayed up all night thinking of a design. I like to get my designs perfect before I start making the project, and I also wanted to have it completely finished long before the Sports Festival so you have some time to practice with it." Izuku pulled the mask over his mouth, tightening the strap on the back so it fit his face. He had created the design with Shinso's face in mind, so it wasn't the most comfortable, but it was tight, and that was all that mattered. "Want to see how it works?" Izuku asked.
Shinso nodded wordlessly, his mouth hanging slightly open. Izuku smirked and spun the dial so the plates lined up in the configuration he knew would work best. He'd triple-checked the right combination because he'd known he would have to demonstrate the mask to Shinso, and he wanted it to be perfect.
"Your quirk can't be run through a microphone or a voice modulator, or else it ceases to work. However, there are other ways to change the way a voice sounds," Izuku said, except it wasn't his own voice that came from his mouth . . . it was Shinso's.
Shinso's eye practically popped out of his head, and he jumped backward. "How did you do that?"
"These metal plates distort sound. When placed at the proper angle in relation to each other, you can mimic anyone's voice while still using your own." Izuku unclipped the mask and frowned at it. The sound was a bit too tinny to be a person's voice. Not super noticeable, but enough to defeat the purpose of the mask. He would have to find a way to fix that. Maybe he could use a different metal, or some kind of special coating. "Thus retaining your ability to brainwash," he finished, barely remembering he hadn't completed his thought.
"That's incredible." Shinso's fingers twitched, and he moved toward Izuku. "Can I . . . try it?"
"Of course, it was meant for you." Izuku held it out to him, showing Shinso how to secure it around his neck. "Of course, it will probably take a while to learn how to mimic voices. You'll need to experiment with it a lot. And it's a prototype, not the final version. I still need to adjust some things and of course make it look nice." Izuku eyed the shiny metal apparatus attached to Shinso's face. "I'll probably paint it black. Black suits you."
Shinso nodded and fitted the mask onto his face, speaking quietly while adjusting the knobs. Izuku chuckled and turned back to his notes, jotting down the things he needed to fix and listing different metals he could use that would produce a more realistic sound. It was several moments until Shinso placed the mask back in front of him, and Izuku looked up.
"You can take it home, by the way. Class is almost over anyway. I'll just need it back when we collaborate with the support course again so I can make some adjustments." Izuku straightened and stretched, smiling when his back emitted a loud popping sound. He had spent way too long hunched over the device, but it was worth it. Anything to make Shinso trust him.
"I still don't understand," Shinso murmured, his fingers playing with the strap of the mask. "Why?"
Izuku sighed. Of course he wouldn't understand. From what Izuku could gather, Shinso had never had a real friend before. "Honestly, I did it because you helped me, and I wanted to return the favor. I noticed a deficit with your quirk, and I decided to fix it and help you become the best version of yourself." Izuku eyed Shinso, but the boy's eyes were still narrowed as if he didn't think Izuku's words made sense. Izuku sighed. "If you can't accept the fact that I did it because I want to help you, think of it this way. I want to transfer into the Support Course. If you use that device to win the Sports Festival, it'll guarantee my acceptance and help me find a job with a hero agency in the future." There. He should be able to accept that.
Shinso's posture relaxed, and he nodded. "Thank you," he finally said, raising his purple eyes to meet Izuku's. The bags under his eyes seemed lighter, and the grimace he wore almost seemed to turn into a smile. "Do you have a name for it yet?"
"No." Izuku shook his head. "You can name it. After all, you'll be the one using it."
"Persona Chords," Shinso muttered almost immediately, and Izuku chuckled inwardly. "I might actually be able to win with this."
"And transfer into the Hero Course," Izuku added, shuffling his notes into a pile and shoving them into his backpack. "By the way, have you thought of a costume yet?"
Shinso shook his head. "I don't want anything special. The gym uniforms work just fine."
Of course not. He's not very flashy. Once again, Izuku was reminded of Eraser Head. The pro hero was very secretive, probably because his quirk worked best when you didn't know he was around. "All right. Just remember to practice your physical abilities as much as your quirk. Since your quirk isn't a fighting quirk, you're going to need to make up for that with raw skill." Izuku began tidying up his area, placing pieces he would need for later alterations in the basket with his name on it. "Pick a fighting style and master it," he advised.
"You know a lot," Shinso remarked.
"I've studied heroes my entire life. I've always been obsessed with them. I wanted to make sure I knew exactly how I was going to become a hero myself." Izuku's hands stilled, and his jaw clenched. "Of course, that never happened, but the least I can do is apply my knowledge to my friends."
"I will follow your advice." Shinso finally picked up the mask and carefully placed it into his school bag, his eyes hesitating on it for a moment too long before he zipped up the bag. "Thanks again."
"Of course." Izuku brushed off his hands before shoving his basket into a cubby designated for him. "I'm here to help if you ever need me to."
"I'll keep that in mind." Shinso's eye traveled to the clock hanging on the wall, and Izuku followed his gaze. They only had three minutes left until the period ended and lunch began. Izuku's stomach growled at the thought, and he suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, or dinner the night before. I forgot to pack a lunch too. Izuku groaned inwardly. His absentmindedness would be his demise one day, he knew it.
"I have a question, if you don't mind." Shinso's eyes now rested on Izuku's face, and he blinked, coming back to reality.
"Sure, what is it?"
"How'd you get that scar?" Shinso pointed to the right side of Izuku's face, and Izuku's hand raised to the scar by force of habit. "It's big. Kind of looks like your skull was smashed in."
Izuku thought of that morning, and the fiasco that'd followed Ida asking the same question. Luckily though, answering would be far easier this time. "I'd rather not talk about it." He knew Shinso would respect his wishes. Shinso may have some semblance of concern for Izuku, but that would never overrule his sense of privacy.
Shinso nodded and pointed instead to the strips of cloth wrapped around both of Izuku's forearms. "And those? Why do you wear those every day?"
"More scars." Izuku habitually tugged on the wraps to make sure they were firmly in place. "Like the one on my face. I can't really hide that one, but I can with these."
Shinso nodded. "Must be annoying to have people ask you about it all the time. I understand why you'd cover them."
It was annoying, but it wasn't like Izuku could say that, so he shrugged instead. "I don't mind. Asking shows that people care. I just don't like to think about that day, is all."
"I'm sorry for prying," Shinso said, despite what Izuku had just explained, and the bell rang. Students began to filter out of the classroom, waving goodbye to their instructor, and Izuku started forward before realizing Shinso hadn't moved an inch.
"Time for lunch," Izuku said, trying to cue Shinso in that it was time to leave. Shinso merely nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he angled his face away.
Oh, I see. Izuku smirked before carefully schooling his expression back into concerned happiness. "Do you want to come eat with me and my friends? Although I must warn you, I'm probably going to steal some of your lunch. I forgot to pack any."
Izuku didn't miss the relieved smile that passed over Shinso's face, despite how hard the boy tried to hide it. "Sure," he muttered, pushing off the counter and grabbing his bag. "You can have as much of my lunch as you'd like. Payback for the mask."
Izuku laughed softly, making sure Shinso wouldn't hear it. Whatever makes you feel better, buddy.
They entered into the lunchroom together, and Izuku led Shinso to the table where Ida and Uraraka sat. They both greeted the purple-haired boy with warm smiles and firm handshakes. Shinso seemed a bit uncomfortable at first, but he slowly began to relax as he spoke with the three friends. Izuku watched them with lidded eyes, dully noting their peaceful interactions. Seems I've managed to make plenty of powerful friends just fine. His gaze found Shinso. Especially him.
As he snacked on the offerings his friends gave him from their own lunches, his mind began to wander. He stared at the two hero course students, pondering what the next day had in store for them. I wonder if they'll survive. Izuku wasn't sure, and although All For One had forbidden him from watching the spectacle, he planned on doing so anyway. He would just need to ensure he wasn't caught.
At the very least it should be interesting. Izuku took another bite of donated food, his lips pulling into a frown. Shigaraki, I hope your plan succeeds.
—
The fact that I love Shinso is starting to creep into this a little too much, I think. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please vote, favorite, follow, whatever it is that you do on this platform. And of course, have a great day!
-Sally