With the unique strum of a shamisen and a burst of sakura petals, a woman appears.
Hel-lo, hello! Welcome, Baiken, to…
Fridays with the—Eep!
Resting against our dear host's neck was the edge of a blade, pulled into existence and held in a reverse grip by the woman's left hand.
'Where the hell am I?'
I-If you'd let me finish, my good wom—
'Just answer the question, bub.'
What are you, Wolverine? He's not even in this story—
The blade inched ever so slightly closer…
—but anyway, you're on my wonderful interview show: Fridays with the Waifus!
The woman stared, her one visible eyebrow raised, before pulling back and sheathing her katana—which disappeared the moment it was replaced.
'Feh… Just another weird thing about this watch, then…'
Who knows…? But that's not important!
Baiken ignored our host, choosing instead to pull her jug of sake out of… wherever she kept it… and sit down on the conveniently placed couch—similar in make to another she'd been using recently.
What is important is the audience's questions! Here's what we have for today:
"Do you plan to milk Bakugo's confession to tease Izuku?"
"Have you even once been tempted to try to convince Izuku to get you alcohol while he was in your form?"
"Out of all the heroes you've seen or heard of while Izuku was in your form, which one catches your interest the most."
Let's begin with question one!
With a sigh of annoyance, the woman began to speak.
'I really don't care about the boya's squabbles. The only reason it affects me at all is because it means I get to be outside a bit more. It lets me see this Gear-less world of his. It's very… peaceful…'
Well, it's not hard for a place to be comparatively peaceful to a place infested with artificial monsters, but I take it that means you like Izuku's world…?
'...Next question.'
Well, if you want to dodge that follow-up, sure. Why not? Let's move on… To question two! What do you think of it?
'Tch… I haven't once considered getting the Boya to drink. He's just a brat, and I'm certain he ain't the type to hold his drink.'
Is there anyone among your roommates you'd want to drink with, then? Usually it's a social activity, after all…
'Feh... The only one who's shown any interest is Ryoko, and I am not letting that girl near my stash. She's bad enough while sober, and despite the fact she says she's several centuries old or some crap, she's way too much of a child for me to let her have any sake.'
I… can't really dispute that. That's probably a good decision.
'Of course you can't, I'm right.'
Well, moving on… The last question for today! I wonder, do you have some secret interest in the heroes of our dear protagonist?
'Hmm… I can't say I'm all too familiar with these "heroes" that're—'
I can hear the air-quotes there. What's up with that?
The pink-haired woman paused to send a one-eyed glare at our host for interrupting, before answering his question.
'These "heroes" of this society seem more like celebrity police officers than actual heroes… Just from lookin' at most of 'em, I can tell. They haven't had to fight for something they believe in, wading past the corpses of their friends and family so they can put down the bastard responsible…'
Baiken's grip tightened on her bottle enough that several cracks appeared in the bamboo jug.
'They don't know what real hardship is, so they can't possibly understand the weight of their actions. Hell, I'm certain most of 'em haven't had to kill anyone before! I may not like those holier-than-thou assholes from the Sacred Order, but at least they have the guts to do what they need to…'
I… see… I feel like I should have expected that, but… I can't say I did.
'…Are we done here?'
If you'd like to be. Honestly, I wasn't expecting this to take such a… dark turn…
'Yeah, well life ain't all sunshine and rainbows. Hell, the boya's gonna learn that one of these days, even if I won't be the one to teach him.'
Well, on that note… Let's wrap up. I think it's time to get…
On with the show!
—
It's odd when you're suddenly just… awake. There's no gradual grogginess, or sleepy fog to work through, just a sudden jolt of consciousness. That was how Izuku woke up in his room on Sunday morning—the weekend after the incident at the fashion club on Friday.
Sitting up and brushing the blankets off himself, he furrowed his brow in confusion at the sight of his school uniform. He was fully dressed, though the buttons of his jacket were undone, and he had no memory of why he was in this odd situation.
'Look who's finally awake, huh?" Baiken asked, her voice slightly muffled.
Pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes, he wobbled in place from the sudden lance in his skull—like an ice pick had been jabbed through the bone and left to defrost for hours.
"Ugh…" he groaned. "What… happened?"
And how can I hear you right now…?
The green-haired boy shifted to the edge of his bed, the spike of pain having already faded to a dull throb, and pushed himself to his feet—only to regret that decision immediately. A sudden burst of nausea nearly overwhelmed him, and it was everything he could do to not empty his stomach over the carpeted floor.
Collapsing back onto his bed served him no better, the sudden jostling bringing back the spike of pain in his head, even if it did distract from the nausea.
"Owwww…." he moaned in pain, holding the back of his head in a futile attempt to diminish the pressure.
'Sorry, Boya… They pushed too far…' Baiken said, sounding genuinely remorseful. It was… weird.
What…? What did they do?
"Izuku!"
Bursting into the room, his mother rushed in and wrapped him up in her arms, squeezing the life out of the poor boy and only making his headache worse with her volume.
"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed. "Your friends brought you to the nurse, who called me, and I didn't know what to do! You wouldn't wake up, and you were bleeding, and—!"
Right… t-the fashion club…
"M-Mom…" Izuku bit out. "C-can't breathe…"
"Oh!" the woman exclaimed, releasing the teen immediately.
As soon as she let go, the freckled boy felt the sudden burst of nausea again, doubling over as he forced himself to not dirty the floor.
"S-should I take you to the hospital…?" Inko asked. "The nurse said you would be fine with some bedrest, 'just quirk exhaustion,' but…"
'Use the watch, boya,' Baiken ordered in the back of Izuku's mind. 'If I'm right, it'll let you relax for a bit.'
Trusting the spirit, he quickly pressed the watch-face up, glancing at its surface. Even after turning the dial multiple times, the only symbol that was displayed was that of the pink-haired samurai, so he didn't question it and activated the change.
Green light flashed, and the freckled boy was exchanged with a freckled girl.
"Holy crap that feels so much better…" Izuku muttered without thought, blinking in astonishment. The migraine was completely gone, along with the sickly feeling she'd had in her stomach.
Standing up, Izuku bounced from foot to foot, testing to see if it was a trick or if the pain was just numbed by lack of motion. Thankfully, it really did seem to be gone.
"Er…" Inko mumbled. "Not that it matters to me, sweetie, but why did you…?"
"Ah…" Izuku said, scratching the back of her head through the ridiculous amount of pink hair. "I just had a feelin' that it would help."
…Why did it help?
'Hell if I know. I'm just working off of assumptions and guesswork,' Baiken replied casually. 'My idea was that while you're transformed, the barrier doesn't have to work as hard on keeping me in the lounge, so it's able to focus on repairing itself.'
Lounge…? My mind has a lounge…?
"Oh… Well, it's good that it helped," Inko said uncertainly. "I'll leave you alone for now then… So try and get some rest, okay…?"
"Hn," the freckled girl grunted in affirmation, Baiken's vocabulary filter active in full force.
The woman shuffled out of the room hesitantly, glancing back at the temporary girl several times before shutting the door behind her. After a few moments of silence, Izuku continued her questioning.
What were you saying about a barrier?
…
After Baiken's explanation, it became quite clear that the girls had really pushed the watch to its limits by forcing a change so many times, and it had consequences. Thankfully, they seemed to be temporary, if Baiken's observations from inside the watch were at all accurate.
Basically…
Izuku and the watch were separated by a barrier that gated access to the connection between him and the girls. Like Ryoko had said, months prior, Izuku's transformations were essentially a bridge that the spirits walked on—only that turned out to be quite literal. Normally, when Izuku used the watch, whichever girl he chose would just appear on the bridge and he would change to match…
But the girls could force their way onto the bridge if they pressed through the barrier. This wasn't a problem if Izuku wasn't already transformed, but it was excruciating for Izuku if he was already sharing a body—and had no real benefit besides the new girl getting to be outside. However, doing this did have many downsides in addition to not having any real upsides.
Each subsequent forced transformation was increasingly painful, weakening the barrier separating Izuku from the watch steadily, and it damaged the bridge that allowed the change in the first place. Worse still, it seemed like the watch had responded to the situation forcefully, locking all the girls within their own areas to prevent any transformations until it had repaired itself. Baiken was only exempt from this because her form was being shared with Izuku when the watch reacted, but even that wasn't a good thing, really.
It was why Izuku had a monstrous headache and nausea while in his own body.
The barrier seemed to be powered by his own personal energy, which up until now had never been used in any real capacity. He didn't have a quirk, after all, and being in the girl's forms made it so that he was technically using their energy, channeled through their bodies rather than his own… even if the quantity was limited to how much he himself had. Because of the damage sustained to the barrier, it was drawing on Izuku's reserves directly and continuously to repair itself.
Unfortunately, the wall was also trying to remain active even while being fixed, reacting to Baiken's presence in the 'lounge' area. This was essentially like trying to repair a car engine while it was still running—that is to say… a really bad idea. That was why Izuku had a constant migraine and nausea while in his own skin. The barrier was drawing on his energy for two wildly different purposes, taxing figurative muscles that had barely ever been used.
Things only got worse from there…
The freckled boy's fight with Bakugo was happening in seven days, and he needed to train if he was going to win. This meant that he should be spending most of his time after school in Baiken's form, doing his best to improve his mastery over her skills with the time he had…
Normally, that wouldn't be an issue.
However, because of the fact that his body was under constant strain when he wasn't transformed, he also needed to use Baiken's form as a reprieve from the flu-like conditions he was stuck with normally. The barrier seemed to treat her as being part of Izuku when she was on the bridge, so it focused entirely on repairing itself, granting the boy a reprieve from his symptoms until the change ended.
This would all be solved if the woman could retreat to her sanctuary in the watch, but… the door wouldn't budge until the barrier was repaired, so they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Unfortunately, the only solution that Izuku could think of was to tough it out, using all his 'Baiken' time for training and suffering through the next seven days in his present condition.
The week ahead was going to be hard, but Izuku had an idea on how to make it a little easier…
—
"Hmmm…!"
Tapping everything before her, Uraraka watched as it lifted into the air.
A veritable nebula of random objects floated above her, brushing the ceiling as she focused on keeping them aloft. The weight of plenty of pens, several textbooks, all her plushies, and a set of weighted bean bags wasn't at all heavy anymore, after all the training she'd been doing lately, but it was an excellent test of her ability to multitask.
The current goal was to be able to hold this much up while doing something else, splitting her attention enough that she didn't need constant focus to keep the ability active.
Turning away from the multitude of detritus, the brunette turned to her computer. It was an old thing, running an operating system from a decade prior and made of parts that had been outdated even then, but it was her computer, so that didn't matter. More than that, the only real reason she knew the thing was 'old' was because her parents had been apologetic about the fact when she got it as a present for starting junior high.
They were proud people, and not being able to afford better for their daughter stung… not that she cared. It was more than enough that they tried as hard as they did, in her mind.
Before she could get started on the essay she'd been meaning to start since the day before yesterday, her phone went 'ding.' Glancing at the thing, she saw that it was a message from Izuku.
'Sorry to bother you… but could you come meet me here today?' he requested, linking the location. 'I could really use your help with something… It's… Bakugo related.'
'Sure!' Uraraka agreed immediately.
I wonder what that's about—
"Ochaco, can you come help your dad with moving the couch? He thinks the remote's stuck under it and keeps trying to move the thing even though he pulled his back when we were at work yesterday!"
The girl jumped in her seat, startled from the sudden interruption. Everything in the air came crashing down onto her bed, thankfully breaking nothing because of where it landed.
"Coming!"
—
"...Why are we eating this early?" Shoto asked, sending a glare across the table.
"Because your sister isn't here today and I won't be around this evening to make sure you eat," Endeavor replied, matching the glare with one of his own.
Sitting at a short wood table, not too far from the ground in the traditional style, the unlikely duo were positioned directly across from each other—as far away as possible while still being in the same room. There were four other seats available, all of which were empty, while a simple meal rested on the lacquered surface.
"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself," Shoto replied, denying the implication his father was making.
The twin-toned teen picked at his food, not feeling particularly hungry, while the redheaded man chewed his current bite, his almost permanent scowl firmly in place even as he ate, before replying.
"Perhaps you are, boy…" he said. "Or maybe you'll decide you have your own plans."
The bicolored boy twitched, but said nothing.
"Nothing to say?" the man said accusingly.
"What I do in my free time is none of your business, Endeavor," Shoto said firmly, spitting the man's hero name like a curse.
The older male let out a quiet growl, his chopsticks strained under the weight of his monstrous fists.
"Boy…" he began warningly. "I am your father. You will give me the respect that I am owed by my son."
Ignoring the biting remark about respect being earned that came to mind, Shoto nodded in false-agreement. There wasn't much else to do, really. Poking the bear was all well and good until you went too far, and the teen wasn't in the mood for an impromptu spar.
"Of course, father," he said, the words like ash on his tongue.
The day I call you father and mean it is the day pigs fly.
The two returned to eating in silence for a moment, before Endeavor returned to his original question.
"Where have you been going, boy?" he asked, his tone deep and gruff, demanding an answer.
"Training," Shoto replied, omitting almost everything that made his trips worthwhile.
Away from you.
"Hmph," the man grunted. "Should I take that as confirmation you've ignored the reasonable path again and wish to fight me for your idiotic request?"
"I do not see what's wrong with wanting to make an honest effort," Shoto shot back.
The man's brow lowered, his stare intensifying as he attempted to speak like some great mentor.
"The path to strength requires sacrifices, boy…" he stated. "If you are going to live up to your potential, you need to throw away that spiteful pride of yours."
Now it was Shoto's chopstick's turn to bend under the force of the grip around them. He glared back in astonished anger, dumbfounded by the man's lacking self-awareness. He opened his mouth to call the man out on the laughable irony in his statement…
But he held his tongue.
Shoving down the familiar ache of repressed rage, he pushed away his half-eaten meal and stood up.
"I'm done," he declared.
Storming out of the room before his father could say a word, he went to—
His phone lit up in his pocket, the subtle 'buzz' of a notification attracting his attention. Withdrawing the object, he checked to see what the cause was…
Oh. It's Izuku…
Slowly, his bad mood began to fade a bit. It would return later, no doubt, but for now he could let the feelings flow away into the back of his mind. His new friend was an excellent distraction from his own problems…
The bicolored boy made his way to the front of the house, strapping on his shoes and—
"Boy… Where are you going…?" his father interjected, catching him off guard with his sudden presence.
"To cool my head with some training," Shoto replied, giving a not-so subtle jab about his icy preference.
Endeavor stood there for a moment, watching his son, before letting out an annoyed grunt and walking away without a word.
Shoto stepped outside, shutting the door behind him quietly before setting off.
…
The teen arrived rather promptly to the usual place he met Izuku, the mostly empty lot that was about a ten minute walk from his home. Once he was there, he started his usual warm up routine—er, cool down routine…?
Well, whatever it should be called, he began doing some light exercises to prepare for the massive undertaking that was preparing one of the gigantic arenas he usually made to challenge Izuku.
It was a fun project each time, and he'd taken to thinking out layouts when he had a moment to himself at home. Doing so was a good way to take his mind off… other things…
He was in the middle of forming snowflake ice sculptures, the size of his palm, when he heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, he saw a brown-haired girl approaching. She had pink blush-like markings on her cheeks and was dressed in a gray tank top. She had a hoodie wrapped around her waist, dangling above a pair of sweatpants and work boots.
"Hm…" Shoto hummed, staring the girl up and down quite blatantly.
"Uh… Hello?" she began awkwardly.
"Hm…" the boy mumbled, continuing his examination awkwardly.
"Er…" the girl stumbled, clearly confused and getting somewhat uncomfortable.
Shoto crossed his arms over his chest, one hand reaching up to brush against his chin as he thought to himself.
"No," he thought aloud.
"...What?" the girl asked, even more thoroughly baffled.
"I haven't seen this one yet," Shoto decided, as if it made what he was talking about any more obvious.
"...What?" the girl repeated, more forcefully.
"Why're you doing that?" the boy asked.
"Doing what?" the brunette responded.
"That," Shoto stated, nodding at her as if he was being any more clear.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the girl stated.
Shoto pinched his nose in frustration, unsure how he could dumb it down any further. Izuku wasn't normally this dense, but clearly the temporary girl was having issues today.
"You keep doing the thing," he stated, even more simply.
"What thing?" she queried, still confused.
"That thing!" he exclaimed. "Why do you keep saying 'what' like you don't know what's going on?!"
"...Because I don't know what's going on…?" the girl explained.
The boy blinked a few times in confusion.
"...What?"
—
God this boy is… I don't even know what to say! What's happening right now?!
Staring down the unfamiliar teen, Uraraka had no idea who he was or why he was here, and she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about!
"Um… Who are you?" she tried, hoping to make some kind of progress with this conversation.
The boy gave her a look like she'd been dropped a few too many times as a child.
"I… What?" he asked, visibly confused.
Oh no, now he's doing 'it!'
"Who are you?" she repeated, more firmly.
"How do you not know who I am…?" the boy asked, completely baffled.
Ah… He was one of those types, huh? The rich kids whose parents were famous and powerful, so he thought that everyone existed to lick his boots. She'd dealt with a few of them when she was younger, looking down on her because her parents were construction workers.
"Why would I?" Uraraka continued, already disliking the boy a bit. "You're not anything special."
"...Really?" the boy responded, eyes wide. He looked like he'd been slapped.
"Well yeah, just because you're rich or your parents are special doesn't mean you're important—" the girl began with a hint of vindictiveness, before cutting herself off as she stared at the boy's sudden smile.
It looked… wrong on his face.
He was clearly the type to brood and think they looked cool, so seeing a genuine joyful smile on his features just looked completely disturbing.
"Thanks!" he said, taking a deep breath and letting out a contented sigh.
"...What?" Uraraka muttered in astonishment.
This conversation refused to go how she expected it to go. Rich kids never acted like—
"Hey!" a familiar voice called, the sound of hurried footsteps ringing out from nearby.
Turning quickly, Uraraka noticed Izuku dashing towards her and this… enigma of a boy.
Oddly enough, Izuku was already transformed—appearing as the pink-haired one. He'd never shown up with his quirk already active…
What was going on…?
—
Izuku dashed through the streets, rapidly making her way toward the familiar lot she trained with Shoto within. She stopped a few times, out of breath more than she normally would be, before continuing on.
Even if the transformation nullified the sickly feeling, she was still losing energy for repairing the barrier, decreasing her stamina a bit and making matters of endurance more difficult.
'Don't push yourself, boya,' Baiken warned.
Ignoring the woman,she made her way into the partially demolished shopping center, making a beeline towards her friends—who were off in the distance, clearly mid-conversation.
"Hey!" she shouted.
The two looked up as he approached, skidding to a stop in front of them and hunching forward a bit to catch her breath.
"Hi, Izuku!" Uraraka began cheerfully. "What's going on? You've never shown up with your quirk active like this…"
Shoto glanced back and forth between Izuku and Uraraka, his expression one of deep concern and confusion.
"You're… not Izuku?" he asked, finally, staring directly at the brunette next to him.
"What?! Of course I'm not—Oh. Oh!" the girl exclaimed. "That's why you were… You thought I was Izuku!"
She started giggling, a smile coming to her face as she bounced back and forth.
"Oh, I feel so stupid right now!" she laughed.
Shoto's eyebrows raised as he stared at the girl.
"You're… very excitable…" he stated.
"Hehehe… Sorry," she began sheepishly. "My name's Uraraka Ochaco. What's yours?"
"Tod—Shoto… Call me Shoto," the twin-toned teen responded, cutting off whatever he'd started with to give the simple name he'd already told Izuku.
"Great!" Uraraka exclaimed, leaning forward and shaking his hand excitedly.
The boy turned to look at Izuku, then at his trapped palm, and back to Izuku in a clear request for help. It was kind of funny how out of his element the boy was.
"Tch… Well… The reason I asked you guys to come here…" Izuku interjected, Baiken's usual tone interfering with her words a bit and drawing Uraraka's attention from the other boy—much to the latter's relief.
"Yeah, you mentioned Bakugo!" Uraraka stated. "What did he do now?"
"Who is 'Bakugo…?'" Shoto added. "Also, why is she here?"
The boy gave a little gesture of his head at the brunette.
"Hey, what's that mean!" Uraraka protested, her cheeks puffing up cutely.
"Well—" Shoto began.
"She's here to help as well," Izuku interjected before things could unravel further. "Don't get your panties in a twist, alright…?"
The bi-colored teen gave a hesitant nod, thrown off a bit by Izuku's phrasing.
"As for Bakugo…" Izuku trailed off, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. "That's… complicated."
…
After a brief summary of the situation—
"Pft!" Uraraka exclaimed. "H-he asked you on a date!"
"No he absolutely did not!" Izuku denied, her embarrassment overriding Baiken's mannerisms a bit. "He… He asked to fight Baiken… and to… to go-on-a-date-with-her-if-he-wins…"
The pink-haired teen looked away during that rapid-fire addition.
"Hmm…" Shoto hummed, staring at Izuku with a contemplative look.
"H-hey! What's that look for!" the freckled girl exclaimed.
"I'm simply seeing you in a new light," the other boy commented. "It's good to be aware that you employ seduction tactics with each teenage male you fight."
"W-what?!" Izuku shouted in horror. "I do not do that!"
Uraraka collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as she laughed even harder.
"T-the look on your—Hah!" she giggled. Glancing up at Shoto, she continued. "Nevermind what you said earlier! I like you now! This is hilarious!"
Shoto glanced down at the girl and gave a solemn shake of his head. "I apologize, but I cannot return your feelings. We've just met, and it wouldn't be appropriate."
"W-what?! N-no!" Uraraka exclaimed, embarrassed by how the topic had shifted. "T-that's not what I meant! I don't like you, like you, I just—"
"There's no need to obfuscate—I understand," Shoto denied calmly. "I've been told I have an effect on women. Apparently… 'angst' is popular with girls…? I'm not sure what my past training partners meant by that, but—"
"Pft!" Izuku laughed.
Now it was her turn to laugh at the situation.
"...?" Shoto stood there, clearly confused as to why laughter had resulted so quickly from his comments, first with Uraraka and now with Izuku.
"Did I say something funny…?"
It took the trio quite a while before they actually got to the point of the meeting…
Training to fight Bakugo.
—
Young Bakugo was… not what All Might had expected.
When he'd first looked into the boy's past, while the teen was convalescing in his hospital room, All Might had discovered some interesting things. Unexpected things, even, after the performance the boy had given in his efforts to save the civilians that day—Challenging an E-rank villain bordering on a D-rank threat, mostly because of the difficulty of subduing a man made out of liquid, and not backing down in spite of the threat to his own life. It built a certain image in his mind… One contradicted by what he'd found.
The boy had a reputation. A bad one.
A horribly rude loudmouth with a superiority complex, so obsessed with his goals that he'd forgone having actual friends or attachments to his peers. Worse still, he was known as a bully.
It was enough at the time to make All Might reconsider offering the boy a recommendation for U.A., much less offering him the position of his successor.
The boy reminded him of someone, though. Both were rude to those beneath them, both were determined to be 'number one' without really understanding what that meant, and both of them had quirks with incredible potential for heroics…
Bakugo was like a view into All Might's past, but instead of seeing himself in the boy, he saw his rival… Endeavor.
It was one of many regrets the man had, that he let his rivalry with the flame-wielding man become as… malignant… as it was. All Might was certain that, had he been more mature and self-aware when he was younger, he could've helped Endeavor off the road he'd fallen onto, becoming something far better than he was now.
The flame-man had become an incredibly powerful fighter… but he was an absolutely terrible hero.
He set no examples, cared nothing for those he saved, and most importantly… he did not stand for anything. There was no meaning to the man's actions. He wasn't a symbol of anything. At the end of the day, the most important trait of a hero was their ability to represent something to the world they saved, because if they didn't…
Nothing would ever change.
There was a reason All Might had such an impact on the world. He wasn't just incredibly effective at doing his job, he meant something to people. When someone pointed him out, bounding skyscrapers to save a random civilian or put a stop to a villain's plans, it filled people with relief. With hope.
That is what it meant to be the 'Symbol' of something, the reason why his most iconic catchphrase was 'I am here.' Saving people, saving the world, wasn't about protecting just their lives, it was about protecting their spirits!
…But past-regrets were not enough to make a decision of this importance. All Might could not risk handing off his quirk to a possible villain in the making just because he mourned the lost potential of a colleague… So he'd done something he hadn't done in years.
All Might visited his old sidekick, Sir Nighteye.
The man was a nostalgic contradiction, at once overjoyed to see his idol and friend again… but also furious that All Might was pushing himself as hard as he was. It was an old argument, one that neither of them would budge on… yet that wasn't important currently.
What mattered was the question he had brought his old friend.
Sir had already made a list of recommendations for a successor—having expected the question for months now—alphabetically sorted and rated based on how much he approved of them. From how well their quirks would mesh with One For All, to their dispositions, to their skillsets, even their interests and drive to succeed. It was all there for him to look through, but Sir had one suggestion above all else:
Togata Mirio.
A tall boy with a physique suited to One For All and a sunny disposition that was almost ideal for heroics. Additionally, the young man had made his initially weak quirk into something with monstrous potential through sheer hard work and dedication during his two years at U.A., even taking on a hero name that meant something.
'Lemmillion,' he called himself. Because while he couldn't save everyone, he could at least save a million… This was a boy who understood the idea of symbols… even if his chosen moniker was inherently somewhat self-constraining in its ideal. This was a boy who had the drive, talent, and innate altruism to become a dazzling symbol that would inspire awe and hope in everyone who bore witness to his heroics.
There was only one problem.
If looking at Bakugo was like seeing a younger, less fully formed version of his old highschool rival… Then looking at Togata Mirio was like looking at a younger, less fully formed version of himself.
All that the jaded hero could see when he saw the teen was the moment in his past when he met his master—proudly declaring that he would become a pillar for the people, something to rely on and inspire hope. He'd promised to be a beacon, a symbol, and he had made good on that promise…
Yet look where that had gotten him?
All Might was in the middle of middle aged, yet without subtle and constant use of his quirk, he would move no better than an old man in his seventies. His powers were crippled and he was barely able to process food properly, wholly reliant on medical checkups to make sure he would be able to continue his job from month to month. He was an unmarried man, no longer able to have children because of his lifetime of dangerous injuries, and he had no truly close friends. All that remained were a few friendly workplace acquaintances, his even more jaded old school teacher, and a former sidekick that resented his obsessive dedication to his work as the 'Symbol of Peace.'
He didn't regret his course in life, doing this was his calling, after all… but All Might simply could not subject an innocent teen, a young man with potential like Togata, to a life like his own. If given One For All, it would be impossible for the boy to avoid such a fate. They were too horribly similar for his own good.
Yet All Might knew he had to make a decision. He had a time limit.
Worse still, he had an indistinct time limit. There was no telling if his body would give out on him tomorrow or a few years for now… but they had a rough estimate. At his current rate, he would lose the ability to use One For All without harming himself in about four or five years. It would speed up if he pushed himself too much, but for now, that was the time table.
This was why he would be teaching at U.A. this coming school year. It was a last-ditch effort to find a successor and train them with the aid of the school's facilities, leading to them making a debut and building a reputation as soon as possible, so that the public would accept and agree with the mantle of Number One being passed on.
However, this meant he needed to make the decision on who his successor would be as soon as possible. They would need time to adjust, to learn, to grow—no matter who he selected—if they were to inherit his position.
Now that he had Sir's list, he had every conceivable option before him that wasn't reliant on random chance… but in the end, the only two candidates truly worth considering were Togata and Bakugo.
Both boys had wonderful quirks already, were exceptionally intelligent and hard working, had incredible passion and drive… They even had the 'instinct to protect,' though All Might was trusting Sir's judgment when it came to Togata, as he'd only seen Bakugo in action personally. Really, the only important differences between the two teens all tied back to who they were as people.
Togata was a young Toshinori Yagi, ready to take on the world without any understanding of where his altruistic dream would take him… and Bakugo was a young Todoroki Enji, a mean—but not truly monstrous—boy with an absurd dedication to being a hero… despite not having a real understanding of what that meant.
All of this meant that it was… a difficult decision. Both options had truly damning negatives. But… In the end… Bakugo's problems could be overcome and, with a guiding hand, he could be directed towards the right path that Endeavor had failed to notice on his own.
As for Togata… How could he help the boy deal with problems that he himself hadn't managed to overcome?
All Might would not create a carbon-copy of himself, he just… he couldn't.
Sir wasn't happy with his decision… and in the beginning, neither was All Might.
Bakugo was frustrating to work with, his ego constantly getting in the way and his drive to succeed pushing him to train far more than was healthy. The boy had even gone on to cause more trouble at his school, challenging all comers to a massive brawl of all things…
He didn't mention it to All Might, of course.
No, that would mean getting in trouble, admitting he was doing something wrong. On top of that, the boy lied to All Might's face about his 'spar' with this 'Baiken' girl. That fight had gone well beyond the constraints of what was allowed without a licensed instructor or mediator. The young man had used his own quirk without permission, on someone he had no reason to believe was anything more than a well-trained civilian.
It was distinctly un-hero-like behavior.
The only reason All Might was aware of it in the first place was because he'd been keeping tabs on the boy ever since he'd started training him, wary of situations just like this… but he'd let it go for now, since no one had been seriously hurt.
It was two strikes against Bakugo, however… and All Might would not forgive a third.
He'd not told the teen this, specifically so he could make an honest assessment of the boy's character… but eating All Might's hair wasn't enough to complete the transfer of his quirk. No, it simply forged a… master and student bond of sorts, between the two.
The way One For All's transfer process worked was that, once the bond was formed, the 'student' would gain a copy of the quirk that would gradually solidify over time. The details of exactly how that worked were over All Might's head, but they weren't relevant for practical purposes. What mattered here, however, was that the transfer was only complete once the 'teacher' let the original copy of the quirk shift to the 'student,' overriding the presence of the 'copy' and making the 'student' into the true wielder of One For All.
All Might fully recognized that, in spite of how time had jaded him, he was often still… naive at times; seeing the best in people even when they repeatedly failed to live up to that standard.
He could not afford to make a mistake like that with his successor.
If Bakugo's pattern of behavior hadn't shown any signs of improvement, or he'd done something to earn himself a third 'strike…' Well, All Might had the power to cut off his bond with the boy. It would irreparably destabilize his quirk, destroying any potential the teenager had for heroism, but wouldn't actually harm him physically.
Still, it was… an extreme measure… and he was hesitant to use it.
So he was ecstatic when the boy had taken his first, admittedly small, step towards being a better person. The young man had opened up to All Might about having a crush on the girl he'd had his inappropriate 'spar' with, and the man could not have been happier about the new situation.
His student's love life wasn't at all his business, so long as it didn't interfere with the boy's duties as the next Symbol of Peace… but what mattered here was that this was a sign. A deviation from Endeavor's troubled path.
Enji had never had relationships during his school years. The most he did was indulge in the adoration of the girls that surrounded him—attracted to his success. He wasn't a man who valued romance or attachments, and he only proved it by having a quirk marriage later in life.
Young Bakugo, however, had real emotion here.
This wasn't a case of indulging his ego, or some emotionless grasp for more power… It was a genuine schoolboy crush. Obviously, it wasn't love, or some truly deep emotion—that kind of thing only resulted after years of a relationship—but it was something.
Something that proved All Might was right.
Bakugo could change. He could step off the path he'd been almost fated to follow, and he could move ahead to something new. The blonde truly could move past the mistakes of the old generation!
So of course All Might took steps to motivate the boy to pursue the relationship.
It didn't matter how it ended—romance, friendship, or rivalry would all lead to a bond. A connection to someone besides himself… and from there, All Might could finally start getting through to the boy about his other problems.
Of course, it was a bit of a gamble, because if the boy's interactions turned sour enough it could lead to him becoming worse… but teaching Bakugo was already a gamble. What was one more risk?
From there, things stalled out for a bit, but then the young man brought a friend! One that he made on his own without All Might demanding he engage with his peers! Oh, he'd initially been upset about the boy abusing his trust and inviting someone to their training grounds, but it was worth it for what came afterward.
When Bakugo had visibly swallowed his pride, pushed aside his desire to be the best as fast as possible, purely because he thought that helping Kirishima was the right thing to do… All Might had been so impossibly proud!
It was taking time, but the boy was growing! Learning! Connections to people and the things that result—things like sympathy… empathy… Are the things that are the very root of heroism, and Bakugo was finally on his way to understanding the foundations of what it meant to be a hero.
All Might couldn't be happier.
It was a good feeling, a hopeful feeling that made him imagine a brighter future… and it only made him look forward to the boy's upcoming 'duel' with this girl—and the growth he was sure would result—even more than before.
I wonder… Is this sense of 'hope for the future' how sensei felt about me…?
—
"Sensei…" a coarse voice muttered. "Why are we here…?"
Two figures stood on a catwalk, overlooking a multitude of machines and people. Vials and canisters of liquid were processed and bottled every second, each batch labeled something different, all under the watchful eyes of a skinny man with short-cropped hair.
The first of the figures was thin and gangly, his head slouched forward listlessly under the shadows of his hoodie. The other was tall and proud in his bearing, just tall enough in fact that the area above his shoulders was obscured by the darkness cast by an overhanging piece of machinery.
Scritch…
Scratch…
Scritch…
The hooded figure's hand scratched his neck with uneven intervals, flakes of deadened skin floating away every few moments, while his other arm rested on the handrail—drumming his fingers impatiently as the metal began to slowly fall apart beneath his grip.
"Calm yourself, my boy..." the man said gently.
The 'boy' froze, falling utterly quiet as both hands slipped into the central pocket of his hoodie.
"What about my question…?" the 'boy' asked, his tone still hoarse.
"All in due time…" the man chuckled. "Why do you think we are here?"
The gangly 'boy' began to shift side-to-side, fidgeting in place.
"Dunno… So you can give me some kind of tutorial…?" he replied. "You do know I skip those all the time, right? They're so boring…"
"Well… I'll have to make sure to keep this interesting, won't I?" the man replied, placing a hand on the 'boy's' shoulder gently.
Again, the gangly figure froze, his fidgeting halting instantly.
"We're here, because a king must survey his lands occasionally. It reminds the peasants and the nobles of who's in charge," the man explained, gesturing with his free hand at the people working on the floor below them.
On the ground, several indistinct workers paused what they were doing, visibly shivering as the man's hand passed over them.
"What do you see, when you look down there?" the man asked, lifting his hand from the 'boy's' shoulder.
Taking a step forward, the gangly figure leaned over the railing, taking care to rest on his elbow rather than his palm.
"I see…" he trailed off. "A bunch of worthless NPCs…"
"Not quite, little 'prince.' They may be weak, but they are not worthless…" the man joked. After a moment's pause, he continued. "How about a different question, then?"
"Can I go home after this one?" the 'prince' asked in lieu of answering.
"Once my 'tutorial,' is done, you may, yes," the man agreed somewhat chidingly.
"Then sure…"
The man took a step forward, bringing him in line with the 'prince.'
"What do they see when they look up here?" he asked.
The gangly 'prince' stared down, several strands of pale blue hair falling from the darkness of his hoodie. One of his hands slipped out of his pocket and reached for his neck as he looked down at—
"Aht! Control yourself, my boy," the man demanded.
As soon as the man spoke, the 'boy' froze, returning his twitching hand to his pocket a second later.
Silence reigned for a while, until…
"I dunno…" the 'boy' finally declared. "I can't imagine being down there anymore…"
"Hmm…" the man hummed knowingly. "Perhaps… a demonstration, then."
The man raised a hand above the rail, extending the limb past the edge calmly. He was utterly relaxed, his posture did not change in the slightest… but everyone down below him stopped moving all the same.
"Sometimes… a noble will get thoughts above their station…" the man began.
Down below, the skinny supervisor started to yell, panicking because of the way his feet began to slide across the floor of their own accord.
"Remember: once someone has even a little power, they will do anything to get more of it, my boy," the man stated.
The skinny supervisor's feet left the ground as he floated into the air, coming up toward the catwalk at a relaxed pace. He was clearly struggling to return to the floor, but nothing he did made a difference.
"This man is a perfect example of this," the tall figure explained calmly. "He thought that he could make even more money by selling my secrets to the highest bidder. Of course, everyone knows better than to take such a deal, and my people in the market reported it to me."
"N-no! P-please! I didn't, I swear! I-I was set up!"
"Now, what do you think should be done with him?" the man asked the hooded figure to his side.
"Hmm… Kill him, I guess…?" the 'boy' replied nonchalantly.
"I-I would n-never! I swear! P-please! I-I… I have a kid! Y-yeah! D-don't m-make them an o-orphan! I-I b-beg you!"
"Why?" the man challenged. "He's done… acceptable work in the past. Why should I rid myself of such an asset?"
"Because…" the hooded figure trailed off, visibly keeping himself from reaching up to his neck again. "Hmm…"
After a few moments' pause, it was clear he wasn't going to continue. The man sighed, gesturing with his held out palm toward his right, causing the gibbering man to float toward the 'boy.'
"You may scratch your 'itch,' boy," he stated.
For a few seconds, the 'boy' did nothing…
"A-Are you going to l-let me—"
Then the hooded figure lunged forward, both hands snaking out and latching on to the floating man's face. The moment his fingers touched, cracks began to form across the skinny supervisor's skin, flowing out from where the 'boy' made his initial contact.
"No-no-no-no-no-no-no—!"
The skin began to slough off, falling away to expose muscle and bone as the floating man began to scream. Each piece of flesh and viscera revealed began to swiftly fall apart, creating a cascading sequence of destruction.
The last thing he saw before the end… was a cruel smile peering out from the shadows of the 'boy's hood, covered only by the slight glint of metal attached to something… fleshy.
"Ahhhhhhh…" the 'boy' sighed contentedly, his tone soft and almost… subdued. Like a child half awake in their parent's arms.
Empty clothes and flakes of human detritus fell to the ground below as the taller figure lowered his hand. Resting it on the metal rail, he stood there in silence for a few moments as, down below, the workers cautiously returned to work.
"Now do you understand?" he asked gently. "What they see when they look at us?"
"...Huh?" the 'boy' mumbled quietly, visibly baffled as he turned to look down again.
Every single person below was moving with perfect efficiency, not a single mistake made in the entire assembly line as they all trembled as one.
"Fear, my boy. They look at us with fear."
—
Omake:
Life in the Watch Pt. 3
—
Hinata didn't like fighting.
That wasn't to say she was a pacifist—at least, now she wasn't—but that didn't mean she had to like it.
From a young age, she'd had access to her clan's unique eyes, able to see a wide range around her and often suffering from headaches because of all the information they brought her. Like many Hyuuga children, she had a lot of trouble controlling her gift. The Byakugan would activate or deactivate with the slightest use of her still developing chakra system, hyper-sensitive to the energy because of how rarely it was consciously used.
Because of their unique ability to see chakra, the Hyuuga were supremely talented at medicine, often retiring to positions at Konoha's hospital—conveniently placed near the Hyuuga compound—after serving as scouting ninja or, occasionally, as combat medics.
All of this, combined with Hinata's unusually wide range, led to the girl seeing the inside of the hospital far too often for a little girl. Given that this was a shinobi hospital… that meant it was a particularly gruesome sight.
A five year old should never have to see several surgeons—people she recognized as older cousins and relatives—struggling to put a man's guts back inside his body after a training accident with the 'Kawarami' displaced several of his organs.
With frequent visions like that… It was no wonder the girl grew up to hate violence. Even in spite of the tension it caused with her father, a man desperate for an heir she refused to be, Hinata couldn't bring herself to bring that kind of horror upon another human being. It didn't help that this led to a negative feedback loop with her father that eradicated her self esteem.
As time passed and she grew older, she was thrust into more and more fights, until finally… when on the verge of breaking down from the pressure… She was saved.
A blonde boy with a blinding grin and whiskered cheeks gave her hope. Here was a boy that saw the world so differently, even if he wasn't aware of how special his perspective was. To him, violence and hatred were a cycle to broken, even if it took him years to recognize his own feelings on the matter… but eventually—
And that was where Hinata's recollection ended.
It was… frustrating… that she couldn't remember. There was something there, at the edge of her memory, the intellectual equivalent of something being on the tips of one's tongue, but it still remained beyond her grasp.
Now that she was stuck within this impossible device, she had a lot of time to think. Yet, no matter how much she stared at the images of Naruto all around her, the museum dedicated to her idol and crush… nothing returned to her.
It was a source of endless frustration for the normally reserved girl, an underlying feeling of urgency pushing her to find an answer, but it never seemed to matter how much she wracked her mind for answers.
In the end, there was nothing she could do but wait. Interacting with Izuku occasionally made things more bearable, at least. The boy was—in her eyes—a ridiculous mix of her shy, self-deprecating nature and Naruto's heroic perspective. Izuku's desire to be a hero reminded her of the kindness of the blonde in her memories, and well, the similarities between him and Hinata were rather clear too.
It was comforting to be around someone like that, so far from home…
Ding!
Immediately, the girl activated her eyes, assessing the entire tower-like museum she occupied in an instant. Within a single second, she knew where everything present was, down to each speck of dust. Everything looked normal…
Except for the pale purple door standing in the middle of a large hall, all the way at the base of the building…
Curious about the new addition, the girl rushed to the first floor, taking great care not to step on any of the paintings of Naruto despite running on the walls and ceiling as often as the floor.
Upon arriving, she cautiously approached the odd purple thing, ready to fling herself away the moment it did anything out of the ordinary. Shinobi are customarily… quite cautious people… and she was no different.
Lightly pressing the door open with her kunai, the thing opened to reveal…
To be continued…
—
OMAKE END
—
AN:
Well, this was quite the chaotic chapter to write! I re-ordered the whole thing multiple times, even cutting a scene that didn't work! It definitely slowed me down a bit, but I think the final product was worth it.
A good example of this was that final scene, actually.
I wasn't planning to introduce those two this soon, but the idea came to me and just fit, so here we are! I won't say anything further on the matter, so good luck guessing what their presence means…
Anyway, Izuku's in quite the situation now, isn't he? Truly, his 'troubles are unending…'
Beyond that, some interesting insight into All Might's perspective, along with his decisions regarding Bakugo… I wonder what will come of it?
Now, to wrap up for today, a few minor notifications:
I've gone back and edited chapters 13 and 6, fixing some sizing problems in the Fashion Club scene and re-working the description of Baiken's big attack a little bit, respectively. Feel free to take a look if you're interested, but it isn't anything incredibly important.
Speaking of Baiken, our favorite pink-haired samurai has officially been announced as a DLC character for Guilty Gear Strive! I don't know how many of you play the game, but I'm certainly looking forward to her January release date! I'm quite terrible at fighting games, but I'll definitely be playing her at launch.
Also, just as a fun question: What's your favorite (or top 3) Guilty Gear characters? Either to play or in the lore, it doesn't matter.
My top 3 are Baiken, Slayer, and Chipp. Baiken is just an awesome over-the-top interpretation of samurai tropes, Slayer is a friggin' Vampire Dandy—'nuff said—and Chipp is the president of a kingdom while being obsessed with Ninjas…
God, Guilty Gear is just so wonderfully ridiculous—and that's just the tip of the iceberg! If you're unfamiliar with the series, I can't recommend it enough.
For now though… I'll see you all next week!