"Defense."
Izuku ducked under a spinning kick from Stendhal, leaping backward to create distance. His teacher continued on the offensive, pressing forward with a few experimental jabs. The young student brought his forearms up, blocking the strikes and spinning to avoid the uppercut that followed them. Unfortunately for him, he missed the leg-sweep that Stendhal ducked into afterward, and he fell unceremoniously to his back.
"Stand."
Izuku did so without complaint, returning to position as his teacher jumped at him once more.
It had been six months since they'd begun their training. Slowly but surely Izuku was learning to keep up with Stendhal, who trained him harder than was probably appropriate for anyone his age. He'd been cut, stabbed, beaten, and stretched so many times he'd lost count, going home wrapped in bandages or covered in bruises more often than not. Stendhal would send him home with blood on his worst days, encouraging him to use his quirk to heal faster, both as a practice tool and so that the training could continue unhindered. His mother worried, naturally, but the happiness that radiated off of him despite his injuries seemed to take the edge off of her concern.
He himself found the experience grueling but rewarding. Stendhal was by no means the warm kind of teacher to sing his praises and accomplishments, but there was a sense of pride in his eyes that Izuku could see with every milestone he crossed. The beach was clearing up one large pile at a time. Items he'd struggled with initially such as tires and small appliances he could lift with ease now. He'd moved on to dragging larger appliances by rope across the sand after a few months; soon he figured he would be able to work on the broken-down vehicles littered about.
Combat was still his weakest point, which Stendhal was quick to remind him of. Although Izuku's physique was shaping up quickly, he needed to know how to put that body to use if he were to act as a hero. That included hand-to-hand combat, which they were focusing on at the moment. Stendhal had tried to get him to train with his quirk as well but dropped the topic for the moment after Izuku had seemed uncomfortable. It seemed he wasn't quite over the stigma, despite their talk the first time they trained here.
'I'll put a pin in it for now, kid, but one of these days you're going to have to face the fact that that quirk is a part of you. You need to get used to using it in combat, or you'll be wasting your potential even if you make it into U.A.'
"You're mumbling. Offense." Stendhal called, his gruff voice bringing Izuku's mind back to the present. He'd been doing an admirable job of dodging while his mind was wandering, but he'd still taken quite a few hits. Now, however, he was the one doing the attacking, jumping forward with a right hook to open the next round.
Stendhal blocked the hit, but Izuku wasn't about to let that discourage him, following up with a side-kick to his teacher's now-unguarded right side. The vigilante stopped the kick with his other hand, holding Izuku by the ankle and throwing him a few yards away to create distance. He rolled into a crouch, readjusting his sense of balance before running towards Stendhal once more.
He opened his next volley with another kick, to which his teacher once again moved to grab his leg. This time, however, Izuku was ready, twisting his body as his leg was grabbed to strike Stendhal's knee with the other. This, unfortunately, was blocked by the vigilante's other arm, but Izuku wasn't done yet. With both of his teacher's arms occupied and the tight grip holding him in place, Izuku bent over, aiming a fist towards Stendhal's unprotected face. He was forced to bend his neck uncomfortably to dodge, tossing Izuku away once again.
"Heh… nice try, Kid." Stendhal admitted, "You're getting faster."
"Thanks." Izuku was breathing heavily, the day's training finally catching up to him as he took bent over with his hands on his knees. "But I still haven't hit you."
"I won't go easy just to give you a chance, kid." His teacher shrugged, looking up at the setting sun and then down to his watch. "We're done for today."
"Okay." Izuku, having caught his second wind, moved to gather up his backpack and school uniform, slinging both over one of his shoulders. "See you tomorrow." He bowed before walking away, as usual, but Stendhal's voice stopped him.
"We start training with your quirk next session." He stated gruffly, leaving no room for argument. Izuku paled.
"I-I don't…"
"I gave you time. I was as patient as I can be. But it's time for you to understand that everything they told you is wrong." He breathed deeply, his voice taking on a gentler tone, "Izuku, walk by the Quirk Rehabilitation Center on your way home. Confront whatever it is that's holding you back."
He walked away without another word. It was the first time he'd ever called Izuku by name rather than 'boy' or 'kid.' The boy stood there silently for a few moments, wondering what he was going to do. Stendhal was right, he couldn't live in fear of his own quirk forever. That time six months ago when he'd taken his teacher's blood was a good first step, but he'd been avoiding repeating the experience ever since.
'Maybe he's right about the Quirk Rehabilitation Center.' Izuku thought to himself. He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve, taking his first steps in a direction that took him farther away from home. 'Maybe this is exactly what I need to move on. A real hero… A real hero has to be able to smile in the face of danger. How can I do that if I can't even smile thinking about my own quirk?'
Musutafu's Quirk Rehabilitation Center had always reminded him of those really old mental asylums they'd learned about in history class with its imposing stone architecture and barred windows, but it honestly could have been that the building had been repurposed at some point in the distant past.
Its existence was an obvious consequence of the existence of quirks; not everyone could control them properly, and may even pose a danger to others if they never learned how. In this capacity, many children actually had appointments at the center during their younger years—he was pretty sure even Kacchan had to come for a session or two so he'd stop exploding his winter gloves the first year after he'd developed his quirk.
Izuku, on the other hand, had been governmentally obligated to attend regular sessions as the possessor of a vampirism-class quirk. Certain kinds of quirks were to be monitored very closely and often recommended against being used due to their effects. Vampirism quirks fell into that category due to the taste for blood its beneficiaries often acquired, leading to a perceived increased chance for criminal acts such as assault and murder.
He remembered the doctors who poked and prodded at him to find out just how his quirk worked. The therapist who'd deliberately named it in a fashion that made him despise it. Every session where they broke down his confidence, slowly but surely, until they could be reasonably satisfied that he would never want to use his quirk again.
He supposed it wasn't that far off from a mental asylum after all.
'I… don't know what to do.'
Stendhal was right about the Rehabilitation Center being the source of his quirk anxiety. Izuku stared up at the building's pointed spires with their eerie stone gargoyles and couldn't find it in himself to dredge up a single happy memory contained within those walls.
"I… I am not a monster." He whispered the words softly, desperately hoping something in his mind would click, some realization would make everything better. If only it were that easy.
"I am not a monster!" His voice echoed around the empty courtyard, the only answer received a gust of wind and rustling leaves. That was the crux of it all, wasn't it? No one to answer but himself. Nobody else was going to validate his feelings… maybe he didn't need them to. In a world where people glowed and shot fire from their fingertips and were biologically just as close to trees as human beings society drew the line at abilities involving the blood of others.
Stendhal was right. What did it matter what anyone else thought, as long as he himself knew he was hero material? He wasn't cured. Not by a long shot. But he would put his best foot forward in an effort to overcome everything he was taught here. All he had to do was show the world that the quirk didn't make the man. He would save everyone with a smile, just like All Might, and show them all that the people inside this building had been wrong about him.
"I am… a hero."
The streets of Musutafu were quiet this time of night. Izuku knew his mom would be expecting him home eventually, but he couldn't help having spent some more time steeling his resolve in front of the Rehabilitation Center.
As he walked, he began brainstorming theories about his barely-tested quirk. Its basic functionality was already understood: the ability to manipulate blood telekinetically. But what were its limits? He already seemed to be able to affect the blood in someone else's body, albeit subconsciously, but what about his own? Furthermore, how did his body react to blood loss? How much could he control at once? What practical uses could he find for-
"G-Get away from me! Help! Someone, please!"
Izuku whipped his head around as a scream tore him from his thoughts. It sounded like a girl, almost definitely coming from the alley he'd just passed.
"Shut your trap, girlie, things will get much worse for you if you don't." The second voice drifted in a gravelly timbre to Izuku's ears, barely audible from the distance he was at. This was bad. He looked around rapidly, finding no one in sight, especially not a hero or police officer who was actually qualified to help.
The tone of the man left little doubt that something unpleasant was in store for the girl trapped in that alley. Izuku felt his fists clench. How could he be a hero if he turned tail and ran when someone needed his help?
His mind made up, Izuku dug his phone out of his pocket, quickly dialing the police and speaking in hushed tones as the dispatcher answered:
"M-My name is Izuku Midoriya, there is a crime occurring in the alley behind the convenience store on Seventh street, please hurry."
He ended the call without waiting for a response, Stendhal's training kicking in as he crept towards the mouth of the alley. A dim lamp above the convenience store's back door barely illuminated the two figures pressed against each other at the end of the alleyway.
"P-Please…" A skinny man in raggedy clothes held a knife to the cheek of a short girl with vibrant red hair. He pulled away slowly, pointing the knife towards his victim and gesturing toward the purse she carried.
"Wallet, phone, jewelry. Hand it all over or you know what happens." The criminal groused. Izuku ducked behind the corner as the man took a cautious look over his shoulder, checking the mouth of the alley. "Hurry the hell up!"
"J-Just take the whole thing. It's not like it matters. Nothing matters anymore." There was a dimness in the girl's eyes that chilled Izuku to the core. Something empty in her voice. She shoved the frilly pink bag in the man's face, and he fumbled trying to catch it. Izuku stalked forward, seeing his opportunity.
"I didn't ask for the whole damn bag, brat! The hell do you think I'll look like walking down the street with this? And I still need those earrings of yours!"
Neither the girl nor the criminal noticed Izuku making his way silently behind the man, eyes searching the alley for any accomplices hiding behind box piles or dumpsters. Luckily, the criminal was alone.
"Just… go. Please."
Whatever the man's response was, Izuku wasn't waiting to find out. He pulled the man back by the collar of his ragged shirt, simultaneously spinning him around to clock him with a right hook that sent the man reeling, dropping his knife in the process. Acting quickly, Izuku took the opportunity to grab the man's left arm and twist it behind his back, pushing him onto the ground face-first.
"I-It's not very nice to steal from people."
Man, he'd really have to work on his heroic quips.
"Get yer hands off me!" The criminal struggled harshly against Izuku's grip, bucking his whole body with increasing strength until he finally managed to throw the boy off, bucking him back into the wall of the alley next to the girl. "I just need the money! I didn't want to hurt anyone, but two witnesses is too many!" The criminal snatched the knife from the ground as he scrambled to his feet, turning to reveal the muscles in his upper body having been enlarged by almost half.
He didn't give Izuku much time to react, immediately sprinting towards the boy with the knife's blade pointed forward. Never before had Izuku been more thankful for Stendhal's insane strength and speed; compared to his teacher this man may as well have been moving in slow motion. Izuku brought his hand up counter-clockwise, smacking the thief's arm out of the way. With the imminent attack taken care of, Izuku brought a knee up to counter, using the criminal's momentum against him as he nearly bent over double from the force.
Izuku pushed the winded man back, taking the opportunity to snatch the criminal's knife away, the blade coming away stained with red as the man nicked his fingers blindly grabbing for his stolen weapon.
"Argh! I'll kill you, brat!" The thief snarled, his muscles growing even larger. "Every hit only makes me angrier, and my anger makes me strong!" Growling, the man lowered himself and charged, opting for a full-frontal assault now that his strength was sure to overcome Izuku's.
"G-Get down!" Izuku pushed the girl out of the way of the thief's path, prioritizing her safety over his own. His selfless act, however, left him wide open to take the full force of the attack. He slammed harshly into the back wall of the alley for the second time, this one leaving him winded and aching after he'd already spent most of the day training.
Izuku tried to take the time to analyze the situation, but his mind was swimming. All he could tell was that it was getting worse; the criminal was rapidly overcoming him in strength, and even if he had speed on his side, he didn't have enough to take the man out. If only he were faster, or…
If the man were slower.
Izuku shifted his eyes to the knife he still held clutched in his hand for fear that the thief could pick it back up and use it on him. The crimson liquid staining the blade called out to him as it always did, an insatiable hunger welling up from inside. It scared him. It always had. Who was to say that once he had a taste, that he would ever stop?
"S-Stop… please. Just make it stop." His gaze snapped to the girl, still huddled in the corner of the alley, her silhouette made even smaller as she curled into herself with her hands on her head. How could he forget that he wasn't just fighting for himself? How could he dream of being a hero if he couldn't get over his own problems for one instant in order to save her? To save anyone?
"I will." She looked at him as he stood, determination set on his face. He felt himself beginning to smile, doing everything he could to appear as reassuring as possible. "Don't worry about a thing. I am here."
Without thinking, he swiped his thumb across the surface of the blade and brought it to his lips.
The effect, as usual, was instantaneous. The thief, who had previously been preparing himself for another charge, stumbled suddenly, looking at his shaking hands with fear in his eyes.
"Wh-What the hell are you?"
'Focus.' Izuku ignored the man's question, clenching his fists as he dropped himself into a defensive stance. 'You do it naturally, don't you? So just increase that, just a little more. Make him slower.'
The sensation of using his quirk on blood that was still inside of someone's body felt completely alien to the way he controlled it on the outside. Inside of a person, their blood continued to flow, fighting his power. That tug of war must have been what slowed them down. His body craved the blood, called for it even without his permission. All he had to do was give in, just a little more.
"Stop it!" The criminal, disoriented by the fatigue that grew stronger by the moment, decided to act before the boy could finish whatever it was he was doing. This time, however, Izuku was ready for him. His muscles may have been enlarged and growing larger, but his movement and coordination were hindered significantly by the effects of Hemokinesis.
Izuku ducked the man's opening punch, rising with a savage uppercut that sent the criminal stumbling. This time, the hero-in-training didn't stop there, heeding one of Stendhal's many fighting tenets:
'Don't let up until your opponent is down for the count.'
He trailed his uppercut with a hard-straight punch, which was followed further with two jabs and a right hook. The thief, with Izuku's quirk slowing him down, couldn't find an opening to counter. With a final high kick to the man's temple, Izuku brought him crumbling down where he stayed, knocked out by the force.
Izuku breathed heavily, finding it hard to bring himself down from the emotional state he'd hyped himself up to. He closed his eyes, searching for the enticing pull of his quirk and decreasing the pressure until he could no longer feel it anymore.
"Are you okay?"
Izuku whipped around so fast his head spun. The girl! She'd risen from the corner of the alley and now stood looking up at him. Her eyes, pink with a ring of purple within them were rimmed with dark bags as if she didn't get enough sleep. They bored into him with an intense gaze that was almost hypnotic when paired with her iris' unique makeup. It took him a moment to process just how short she was, the top of her head barely reaching his chest.
"I-I should be asking you that! He didn't hurt you, did he?" The adrenaline must have definitely been getting to him, because never in a million years would Izuku in his right mind ever place his hands on another person, much less a girl, and begin studiously checking them over for injuries. Luckily, it didn't seem that she minded all that much, continuing to eye him strangely as he fussed over everything from the dirt in her magenta hair, to her ripped sweatshirt, and even the tiny cut on her cheek the man had made.
"Why?" she asked softly, snapping Izuku out of his fretting.
"Why?" he repeated, concerned. The light in the girl's eyes seemed to be fading by the moment, her eyelids drooping into a half-closed expression of listlessness as she dropped her gaze to the ground.
"Why would you work so hard to save me? You're not even a hero, just a student like me. I'm nobody to you… I am a nobody. I don't matter." Her voice was so soft and assured. It was like she was reading facts from a textbook. How could somebody think so little of themselves?
"No!" She looked up when Izuku nearly screamed. His fists were clenched, sympathetic tears welling up in his eyes. "You're important! Everyone is! An-And if you think you aren't important to anyone, then you're important to me!"
The girl's eyes opened wide. Izuku was breathing heavy, forgetting himself once more as his hands rested gently atop her shoulders. She looked up at him, his eyes so determined, shining with unshed tears and somehow more caring than anyone she'd ever seen.
"I…" Whatever she'd been about to say was interrupted by the approach of sirens, the screeching of tires indicating the arrival of the police. A man and a woman slid themselves out of the squad car that was now blocking the alley's entrance, one eyeing the unconscious thief curiously while the other approached Izuku and the girl.
"Hello, my name is Officer Watanabe. Over there is my partner, Officer Sakamoto." She greeted, motioning with one hand to the other officer who was already in the process of placing handcuffs on the thief. She leaned down, looking Izuku in the eyes, "Are you Izuku Midoriya, the one who called about a crime in progress?"
"Y-Yes." Izuku affirmed. "I heard this girl getting mugged, but there were no officers or heroes around, so I called the police."
Officer Watanabe nodded, writing something down on a notepad she procured from her shirt pocket.
"Alright. In that case, are you okay?" she asked, turning the girl, "And may I have your name?"
"M-Manami Aiba. I'm alright, thanks to Midoriya-san." Izuku blinked. Manami. He'd been calling her 'the girl' in his head this whole time, and he hadn't even asked her name! Officer Watanabe and Manami looked at him strangely as he slapped both hands to his cheeks, reprimanding himself for forgetting to ask her name. How unheroic was that?
"Well… ahem. I'm happy you're alright, but we should have you checked out just in case, even that small cut could be dangerous if it gets infected." The officer wrote some more on the pad, turning her attention once more to Izuku, "Now, would you mind explaining the events that led up to our arrival?"
Izuku swallowed, knowing he was in trouble. The use of one's quirk on another without a hero license was illegal. That said, one look at Manami was enough for him to know that it was worth it. Taking a breath, he prepared himself and recounted the fight as best he could for the officer, making sure to mention his observations of the thief's quirk so that there would be no surprises should he wake up in custody.
Officer Watanabe sighed when he finished, bowing as he prepared himself to be reprimanded.
"Ahh, kid. I know you wanted to help, but public quirk use is illegal, you know." She seemed torn. On one hand, Izuku's intervention had almost assuredly prevented something much worse should the thief had decided not to leave Manami unscathed. On the other, using his quirk on someone else, especially one that involved their blood, should have landed him in some very hot water.
"P-Please!" Manami spoke up suddenly, her small hands grabbing at the officer's, "He saved me…"
Her eyes, so large and sad, could have been a superpower in and of itself. Officer Watanabe groaned bringing a hand to her face.
"Damn, kid. You really had to give me the puppy-dogs." She took a breath, returning to her professional attitude. "Alright, this is how it works: Izuku, you never used your quirk. You saw a criminal harassing a girl and caught him off-guard after calling the police. And you never, ever do something like this again. You hear me?"
"Yes ma'am!"
"Good." Her gaze softened just a bit, turning to make sure her partner was still waiting by the squad car with the criminal, "Just for the record, I don't disagree with what you did, okay? But make sure you get your provisional license at least before going for more heroics, yeah?"
"Y-You…" Izuku looked up, a smile threatening to break out on his face, "You think I can make it as a hero?" The officer smiled.
"Sure kid, I don't see why not. But try to remember us little guys when you make it big; not all heroes wear capes, you know." She gave him a cheeky smile, taking Manami's hand and bringing the girl along to the squad car, where Officer Sakamoto seemed to be calling in for a second unit to come and pick up the criminal while Officer Watanabe brought Manami to the hospital to get checked out. The girl continued to lock eyes with Izuku until she lost sight of him, shyly waving goodbye as the police vehicle pulled away.
Izuku wondered at how fast everything seemed to move. One moment he was fighting his first—second? Did the slime villain count?—criminal and the next the officers were taking Manami away and letting him off the hook for his actions.
Despite the dire situation he'd narrowly avoided, Izuku couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment well up inside him. He'd saved someone. Not only that, but he'd saved someone using his quirk—a feat that no one but Stendhal had ever believed he was capable of. His quirk didn't have to be a curse and it didn't make him a villain to use it. Izuku smiled, grinning ear to ear.
He was a hero.
"I'm home." Izuku called gently as he crossed the threshold into his apartment.
Inko's acknowledgment floated from the kitchen along with the savory scent of dinner. He smiled, wiping his sneakers on the rug and taking them off before making his way over to greet her properly, taking a peek at the fish she was searing while he was at it.
"Hey, mom." He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders for a moment. She smiled sweetly, playfully bumping against him in acknowledgment while she stirred a pot of miso soup. It made him smile; his mother was letting go of her stress bit by bit, generally acting a bit happier around the house and losing some of the worry-weight she'd accumulated over the years, looking more and more like the confident woman from his earliest childhood memories with every passing day.
"You're home later than usual. How was your day, sweetie?" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Long… and strange." He told her, thinking back to his fight with the thief and his almost-arrest at the hands of the officers he'd called. "I think I started something I can't stop… and I don't know if it was the right thing to do."
This got Inko's attention. She stood up a little straighter, turning to Izuku with a concerned look in her eyes. She didn't even have to ask; he would tell her about it regardless, seeking the only-slightly-biased advice he could always turn to her for in important situations.
"I walked by the Rehabilitation Center on my way home from training..." He began, recounting his fight in the alley, Manami's insistence he'd saved her, and Officer Watanabe's reprimanding.
"… and I guess I'm just worried, y'know? I've always wanted to be a hero, and I finally felt like I was for the first time today. But actively using my quirk for the first time on someone else… it scared me. The amount of self-control I need to exert in order to keep myself in check, and the thought of what could go wrong if I don't, it hit me on the way home." Izuku didn't even know what to think, to be honest. He felt so confident in the moment, but it all washed away as soon as he'd left the vicinity.
It felt like a strange fever dream that his addled mind had cooked up in response to the stress of seeing the Rehabilitation Center again, even though he knew for a fact that it'd all happened. There was no way he could conjure up the feeling of using his quirk. And Manami herself was too detailed for a hallucination. Why even consider these sorts of things when he knew they weren't within the realm of possibility?
"You're mumbling, dear." His mother chided gently, bringing him back down to reality. Dinner had finished while he'd regaled her with his story, and they now sat at the table, taking slow bites in-between chatter. Inko had listened silently and faithfully, but it was time for her to ease her son's troubled mind. "You saw yourself in that girl, Izuku. I know that's why you wanted to help her so much, even when you knew it could have gotten you in trouble. Everyone needs someone to help them sometimes. I…" her voice wavered as her eyes started to water, "… I couldn't help you, in the way that you needed it. You needed someone like you to tell you it was going to be okay, right? This Stendhal… he's teaching you to like your quirk. Someone like me who's always loved mine can't help you with that…"
"Mom, it's not like that…"
"It is though, sweetie." Inko smiled sadly, "And it's okay. It sounds to me that the officer saw in you the same thing that Stendhal does. That something special inside that makes you a hero. You show it off every time you do one of those crazy things that make me worry, like running into an alley to save a girl from a mugging. It's that something that makes your quirk a blessing, just like everyone else's. Because above all else all you want to do is help people with it."
She took Izuku's hand, holding it up in front of them.
"My little boy is going to be a great hero." Inko's voice wavered, tears pricking at her eyes, but she kept her gaze locked on Izuku. "Not because of your quirk, but because of your heart, hard work, and determination to succeed. You… you're so much like him. In all the ways I could have ever wanted. I am proud of you, Izuku, and I know you'll do amazing things someday."
Unable to hold back the proverbial flood any longer, his mother finally let her tears go, collecting Izuku into her arms in a crushing hug as she sobbed into his shoulder. Izuku himself was struggling to hold back tears. It was rare that his mother brought up his dad, the last time being their conversation the night he'd met Stendhal. All he could do was offer his support and hope it was enough. All the same, he couldn't help but smile at his mom's faith in him. Keeping up with his grades, training to be a hero, and now learning in the ins and outs of his quirk… it was going to be a lot of work.
Wrapped in his mother's embrace, Izuku couldn't help but feel everything was going to turn out just fine.
Real talk, I was planning on this story having a 2-3 week upload cycle. But I'm so excited to be writing again I belted out another chapter in like a day. Don't expect this to become the standard, but just know that I love you guys and I really appreciate the feedback I've been given so far!
And that's chapter 2! I kind of feel awkward about ending the chapter on a long conversation with Inko, but once Izuku gets into U.A. it may be a while until we see her in a similar capacity so she's demanding screen time while she can, I guess.
Making its big appearance after barely being mentioned in chapter 1, the idea of a "Quirk Rehabilitation Center" is an interesting one that unfortunately probably won't pop up again. Maybe another time or story. One of the most fun things about writing for BNHA is the background details that make up the world of quirks. What happens when they're out of control? Does the government control/regulate dangerous categories of quirks to preemptively stop crime? The Rehab Center is a consequence of my asking that.
Did any of you guess the pairing right last chapter? Probably not, but really how Jebaited do you feel? Hopefully no one's too mad about my choice! I really like Manami as a character, and she's not in enough stories IMO, so I hope I didn't disappoint anyone too much. Fun fact, Himiko was originally supposed to be our leading lady, but my brain was like "Hey man, write about La Brava instead; Toga's super predictable for this premise" and I couldn't resist. The original script involved Himiko being a patient at the Quirk Rehab whom Izuku would be tasked with overseeing after her hands-off wealthy parents decided he would be a better fit than doctors who saw their daughter as a monster rather than a person.
It was an interesting concept. I'd be willing to send the draft to anyone who wants to read the original cut and wants to make it their own. I warn you it's significantly worse in my opinion. There's a definite reason I scrapped the entire chapter (and eventually pairing), during my initial drafting process (I don't upload stories until I have the first 2-3 chapters set for storyboarding and backlog purposes). Pacing issues among other things.
Speaking of, Izuku meeting Manami is a 2700-word section for what amounts to a pretty short situation in real-time. I'm actually sort of scared to write more involved fight scenes now, but that's something we'll get to later. These chapters are already about as long as I prefer to make them due to information overload. I'd rather not dump too much on you guys all at once in order to make each chapter feel like a significant moment in Izuku's life. That said if you have feedback on the length (longer or shorter) I may take it into consideration if enough people show interest one way or another.
Future author's notes will hopefully be shorter, sorry! I just love explaining my thoughts and trivia with you guys! I get carried away sometimes.
Next time we see more Manami and the completion of Izuku's training! Till then, please leave a review and follow the story if you enjoyed! Also feel free to leave questions there or PM me. Either way, I'll do my best to respond!
