A/N: I apologize for the wait, midterms, spring break, and corona just hit.
(Guest: In the prologue, which I'll confirm is the future, Izuku has a prosthetic arm which he may, or may not, be getting soon.)
(RaudomGny: Thanks but a lot of my older stuff I wrote when I was younger. If you like it then that's awesome but I warn you, I was 120% EDGE as a highschooler.)
Inspired by Levius
Chapter 4: The Swing of Things
The summer of the Musutafu massacre passed into a gloomy autumn. The red leaves cast scarlett memories for the survivors of the desolate city. The once rolling green hills were marred with craters and scorched earth as the blackened Musutafu stood cold against the biting winds of the season.
The war raged on far to the south. The battle at Musutafu had ultimately resulted in a victory for the heroes. Heavy casualties befell both sides but the quirkless army was forced to retreat.
In the following weeks, reconstruction for Musutafu was in order; as was the medical discharge of Izuku Midoriya.
At Musutafu's last remaining railroad station, a boy sat quietly on a wooden bench amongst the crowded citizens and busy construction workers. The boy wore a button up, vest, and slacks, however, the right sleeve dangled limpy, tied off at the elbow. At his feet rest a small suitcase.
Izuku glanced up at the sizable hole in the station's glass and metal work ceiling. His eyes then trailed down to the brick blown remains of the rail commissioner's quarters.
He tensed up, a deadly whistling in his ears.
I can still hear it.
His breath slowed and he forced himself to calm down.
He focused on the ruby envelope in his left hand. Only the surface, only the paper. He still didn't have the courage to open it yet.
Soon the steady rhythm of an incoming train oscillated through the air. Workers cleared off the tracks and Izuku stowed the envelope away. He stood from the bench and picked up his suitcase with his left hand.
The train pulled into the station as the mechanical rhythm slowed to a stop. Rushing pockets of hissing steam systematically burst from two vents in the front car. Soon the passenger cars came into view and an announcement warbled through the train station's damaged speakers.
"RoUnd triP from YaManAshi PRefeCture! DePartIng iN ten MinUtes!"
The voice was crackly and distorted as newly hired construction workers and distraught family members filtered out of the cars and into the station. While the cars emptied, behind the rabble of moving crowds, a seemingly senile old man hobbled slowly with a wooden cane.
Gran Torino came to a stop in front of Izuku, looking up with a simple smile.
"Ready to go?"
No.
"Yes."
A cheeky grin broke across the older man's face.
"Splendid, all the arrangements have been made. Inko will be transferred to Yamanashi General Hospital within the week."
Gran Torino spun on his heels with the spryness of a man twenty years younger and departed back into the car. He thought of his mother once, his eyes hardening, before following after the hero. He passed through the train until he found the old man seated inside the third car down.
Izuku opened the sliding door and entered the compartment, taking a seat across from the old man. His green eyes were immediately drawn to the window.
Gran Torino's smile carried on from the station.
"Toshinori sends his regards. He regrets not being able to celebrate your twelfth birthday with you. As soon as he was released from the hospital he had to return to the warfront."
Izuku nodded, the memories of his birthday crossing his mind. It had been a quiet affair. The nurses had made him a small cake and furnished his room with fresh flowers. They even agreed to wheel him to his mother's room to blow the candles of his cake and make a wish.
He let out a quiet sigh.
Mom always made the best cakes.
The minutes passed in silence until the steam whistle sounded on their departure. A dull thrum shook the railway as the engines hummed to life. The station passed into hill scapes and the shudder of replaced tracks signaled the recent damages of war.
As the rail bent around the curve of a hill, Izuku soon focused on Musutafu. The spec of his childhood city shrunk back across the horizon. With every blink his birthplace grew further and further away. He grit his teeth.
"Don't worry…"
Izuku's attention shifted to the older hero. Gran Torino displayed a rare case of care.
"...you'll be back."
I…
He took one last look.
I will, won't I…
With that final thought, Musutafu faded into the distance. Izuku looked away from the window, and faced Gran Torino. It wasn't much, but the barest of smiles graced the boy's features.
-oxoxo-
The train ride had been calm, wonderfully so.
Yamanashi Prefecture, while not the most mechanically advanced part of the nation, was the last remaining bastion of safety for the growing quirked society. The train passed through quaint border towns before pulling into a station on the outskirts of the city.
Izuku, suitcase in hand, stepped off the steaming mass of metal and into the afternoon sun. His gaze immediately gravitated to the five meter tall walls encircling the main city. Along its edges, quirked soldiers and heroes stood at the ready.
Gran Torino smirked and nudged the boy.
"Impressive right?"
Izuku nodded along.
If only Musutafu had been guarded so well.
Gran Torino led the way as they approached the city registration checkpoint. It was a small concrete structure carved out of the base of the wall not far from the station. With an exchange of words between Gran Torino and the heroes on duty, they passed on through.
Coming out on the other side of the two meter thick wall, Izuku was met with a flood of nostalgia. It had been some time since he'd felt the aura of a bustling city. Motor cars rumbled across the cobblestone. The distant cries of vendors from the marketplace carried through the autumn breeze. But most striking were the denizens of Yamanashi.
A family of three walked past him, smiling, comfortable, connected… safe.
He could get lost in all of it.
"Come along now, we're almost there."
Gran Torino departed down a side street without a second glance. There had been some bark to the old man's words. Even so, he followed along numbly, but not before watching as the family was swallowed into the city crowds.
-oxoxo-
They traveled through main streets, eventually turning into a long back alleyway. Passing through, they emerged on a completely different side of town.
"Here we are, home sweet home."
Side by side with the old hero, under the fading sun, Izuku stood before a worn down four-storied brick building. Chipped stone stairs led to a set of sun-faded double doors. His eyes darted from the broken windows boarded up with plywood to the shadowy alleyway that accompanied the decrepit structure.
Huh… just like the old abandoned factory we fought in.
His thoughts turned dark as the image of Katsuki's lifeless body buried itself under the rubble of his guilt. The ruby envelope in his pocket filled him with dread.
Auntie Mitsuki... Kacchan...
A sudden clap on the back caused him to stumble.
"Are you just going to stand there? I want to eat."
When Izuku righted himself, Gran Torino stood at the top of the stairs with a smirk.
"Come, I'll show you Toshinori's old room."
-oxoxo-
Izuku had been expecting a dusty cramped house full of run down dangers and broken floorboards. Instead he was met with an open space he was familiar with.
He stood on the first floor, but further in, wooden railing guarded a sudden drop off. As he approached, it became clear that this was no ordinary home. Setting the suitcase down and gripping the rail, Izuku looked out at the hollow shell of the building.
From the rail, leading left, a small staircase led to a vast open concrete field. Looking up, where the ceiling might have been, there was an open expanse only stopping at what he could guess was the rooftop. Along the building's perimeter walls, railed floors signified the various veritcal levels of the building. It was a lot to take in.
The space alone made him feel light headed.
So this is where Uncle Toshinori trained.
Gran Torino suddenly appeared from a doorway further down the railed walkway.
"This way, Midoriya," he beckoned.
The old man then left as soon as he had come, leaving a still disoriented Izuku to follow.
After passing through one hallway, a left, right, then left turn again, and finally two flights of stairs, Izuku had caught up with Gran Torino. They stood in front of a seemingly normal bedroom door.
"Here we are…"
The old hero turned the knob and pushed.
"...Toshinori's old room."
Light streamed in from the hallway, illuminating a sparse but neat room. A twin bed rested in one corner while a desk was positioned beside an unboarded window on the opposite wall.
"I cleared out all of Toshinori's stuff, you wouldn't believe what a little hoarder the symbol of hope was when he was your age."
Gran Torino chuckled to himself as he flicked on an old light switch and nudged Izuku into the room.
"Go on now, get settled. Bathroom's down the hall to the right. I'm not much of a cook but I know enough to get by. Dinner will be ready within the hour."
And with that, Gran Torino closed the door and left Izuku Midoriya to his own devices.
-oxoxo-
It was a surprisingly calm process.
Izuku unpacked, suitcase on the bed. He stored his few articles of clothing in the bottom drawer of his desk before pulling out a framed picture. Izuku set it down gently, the cracked image of his smiling parents cooing over a small bundle of blankets.
He wanted to smile too.
Izuku finished unpacking and stored the suitcase under the bed and sat pensively on its edge. The envelopes corners pressed into his leg from his pocket and provided a constant anxiety inducing reminder.
Tentatively, he retrieved it from his pocket and stared at the shoddily stamped wax seal.
You were never one to be delicate… Kacchan.
Two weeks after waking up in the hospital, auntie Mitsuki had come to visit. The normally explosive blonde woman had been quiet as a mouse and gentle as well when he'd broken down sobbing and apologizing for not saving Katsuki.
Eventually, peace settled into his bones. Her words still haunted him.
'It's not your fault Izuku… you knew what Katsuki was like…'
They'd visited his mother after that and she stayed a while, holding both his and Inko's hands. Before she left, she'd left him with a parting gift; a ruby envelope.
'Don't be a stranger Izuku, you were like a brother to him.'
His emerald eyes focused back to the present. The memories drifted back into the recesses of his mind as he continued to gaze upon the envelope.
It's been over a month since auntie Mitsuki gave this to me. Why can't I just open it?
Izuku set the letter down on his desk and let out a heavy sigh.
I can't. Not now.
He shrunk back onto the bed, curling inward. His eyes shut softly but held tight against the maelstrom of emotions swirling within him.
Everything used to be so simple…
-oxoxo-
"Thank you for the meal."
Izuku stood from his seat, taking the dish and the remains of his dinner to the sink. He'd found the kitchen back down on the first floor, tucked away along the building's perimeter rooms.
From behind him, as he carefully scrubbed the dish with his remaining hand, Gran Torino spoke.
"Once you're done there, meet me in the pit."
He looked back, confused.
"There's something we need to discuss."
The old man gave him a winning smile before disappearing into the depths of the house. With his dish cleaned and set on the counter to dry, he followed. Entering the main atrium of the house, he peered down from the railing to see the old man in hero uniform standing at the concrete floor's center.
Izuku trailed down the stairs at a sedated pace and met with Gran Torino until they stood across from one another.
What does he want to talk about?
The old man's eyes examined him critically, narrowing in judgement. A spike of anxious tension pulled at his nerves.
Is it my mother's hospital bills? I know I don't have much time… Dad's savings will run out within the next two years.
"Izuku Midoriya!"
The sudden use of his name sent a jolt through him.
"You want to be a hero..."
It was a statement, no room for question. His eyes grew wide.
"...just like your father."
The simple truth hung in the air, floating, flying, and then… plummeting. All Might's words strangled the aspirations deep within his soul.
'To save others, you must first have the power to save yourself'
Izuku's eyes shot to the floor, downcast.
"I… I did, but…"
...I just can't. All Might said as much. I'm not strong enough, I don't even have a quirk. And now… my arm…
"But what, Midoriya? Is your conviction that weak?"
Weak? Am I? AM I?
"NO!"
His head shot up, a flare of indignation sparkling in his emerald eyes before fading back into the ashes of war torn sorrow.
"I just… I just..."
It was silent. Gran Torino observed the sullen boy's body language. The brief burst of emotion had generated an aggressive stance that spoke volumes of the boy's condition. Still, it would seem he had provoked the boy too early.
He thought back. Toshinori had been similar after Nana's death.
Gran Torino scoffed and turned his back on the boy, beginning to walk away.
"Forget it, Midoriya. Get some rest."
He couldn't help the boy if the boy wasn't even willing to help himself.
-oxoxo-
Long after Gran Torino had left, Izuku stood silently in the pit. The old hero's question rattled through his head over and over.
Why couldn't I say anything? For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to be a hero. I always looked to Dad or Kacchan.
Under his breath, he whispered.
"Dammit."
Who am I going to look to now?
-oxoxo-
"Izuku, I'm headed out for patrol, could you handle the groceries?"
Izuku nodded stiffly as the old man, clad in hero uniform, handed him a short list and departed from the house. Ever since their exchange within the pit, he'd felt uneasy around his new guardian. It was as if Gran Torino knew something he didn't.
I better get going, who knows what the market will have left at this time of day.
Izuku stood slowly from his chair, an old hero notebook sliding under his arm as he prepared himself to leave.
It's going to be cold out, especially with the sun setting.
Having slipped into a peacoat with a red scarf curled around his neck, he braced for the biting evening chill as he stepped out onto the cracked stone steps of his home. Izuku's breath tumbled through his lips and ascended into the darkening sky.
It was a quick trip to the common market, however, when he arrived, many of the vendors were packing up their stalls and merchandise. He bought what he could, placing the various ingredients in a wide brown satchel across his left shoulder.
The sun had finally set by the time he was packing up the last ingredient on the list. The market square was lit by a circle of lamp posts which illuminated a sparse courtyard. Only the straggling merchants, odd pedestrians, and himself remained.
Izuku turned to head home, but froze in his tracks as his emerald eyes widened. His breath hitched, held captive by his fraying nerves. Through the dim light, from the barest glimpses of his peripheral, a flash of ruby struck him stiff.
Kacchan?
Izuku spun around wildly, the right sleeve of his coat fanning out from the turn. Across the courtyard, in a white button up and black slacks, a spiky haired blond strode away into the Yamanashi's busier and more crowded streets. Walking alongside the boy, was a shadowy figure shrouded in a shirt and vest.
How… is that really you?
The boy stopped and turned, revealing the profile of his features. His face was passive but those ruby orbs were emblazoned with Katsuki Bakugo's spirit.
KACCHAN!
Izuku's red shoes kicked up dust as he sped forward without even thinking. The hollow right sleeve flapped behind him as he weaved between stalls. The blond turned away, and continued to walk, almost rounding right on a street corner with the shadowy figure.
No! I won't lose you again Kacchan! I'm coming!
"Hey kid! Slow down, you'll run into that girl!"
Izuku was deaf to the vendor's warning as he collided full force with another citizen. He fell forward on top of them, his bag of groceries, ripping off his shoulder and spilling out onto the cobblestone.
"Ow ow ow! Oh no, my baby! It's ruined!"
"I'm sorry!"
He didn't feel it, he didn't hear her, he didn't see her. All he could do was shout a quick apology to the pink haired girl as he struggled to his feet with one arm. Izuku looked ahead and panicked. By now the blond and his companion had faded into the crowded street.
'Is your conviction that weak?'
NO!
Izuku broke into the crowd, taking a right at the street corner and pushing his way through. He caught a glimpse of the blonde turning left.
Turn after turn Izuku followed, alway a step behind.
Finally, with his breaths coming out in sharp pants, he'd reached the end of the road. The dull throng of a roaring crowd drifted into his ears as he approached the immense coliseum in front of him. His breathing calmed but his heart continued to hammer in his chest like a wild piston.
There's nowhere else they could have gone. Kacchan, please, please be here.
Izuku stepped through a large archway and into a long entrance tunnel, as an anxious tick spread throughout his veins. With every step it became clear that the dull throng outside was a massive audience of people ecstatically cheering. Coming out of the tunneled archway, Izuku found himself surrounded by people as they crowded along a railing overlooking a raised square platform at least three stories below.
A well dressed man walked onto the platform with a microphone.
"Welcome ladies and gentleman to Yamanashi's first QMA promotional bout!"
Ignoring the speaker, Izuku began frantically searching as he passed along the circular ridge of the coliseum. After coming full circle, he found the main stairwell and checked the floor below.
"In the right corner…!"
Izuku drowned out the world around him, his sole focus on finding Katsuki Bakugo. He scrambled down the main stairwell and onto the first floor.
Kacchan… where are you?
"In the left corner…!"
His feet dragged across the floor, and fresh tears welled within his dimming emerald eyes.
I'm right here, I'm…
He stopped in his stracks and stumbled to the back of the gathering who were focusing on the spectacle on the center platform.
"No..." he whispered quietly to himself.
I checked every floor, there's too many people. I can't… I just… Kacchan... Dammit!
"Three, two, one… Fight!"
The crowd roared with cheers, masking a violent strangled cry from the depths of his heart as he fell to his knees behind the main row of spectators.
I just wanted to save you.
Slowly, he picked himself up, leaning against the wall for support. His feet unconsciously carried him to a vacant spot along the railing that overlooked the crowd's delight. Mindlessly, his eyes drifted to the center stage.
A blinding right hook.
A sudden strafe followed by a vicious roundhouse kick.
A steadfast guard against the assault.
Izuku's emerald eyes widened through the mist of his tears. His fist clenched slowly as the spectators around him cheered and booed with every quirk enhanced punch, kick, and dodge.
Kacchan…
One of the combatants swiveled on their feet and delivered a sudden kick to their opponent's solar plexus knocking them down. The crowd went wild and the coliseum shook with excitement. With the fighter who stood, and the fighter coughing and twitching on the ground, a countdown began.
His gaze focused on the standing fighter, their arms pumped in the air, riling up the crowd. Izuku was brought back to the old factory floor, Katsuki Bakugo was his opponent as they both slipped into readied stances. He thought of how the children cheered for Katsuki when they fought. He thought of how the children rallied together under Katsuki's victorious image.
You were always a hero of the people… even with your temper.
The fighter who had been knocked down clambered to their feet before the countdown, albeit wheezing. Still the two fighters acknowledged each other and prepared themselves for another exchange.
A hero of the people… huh...
The two fighters clashed and the crowd's elation crackled through the coliseum. The ghost of a smile formed across his lips.
Maybe I could be that.
-oxoxo-
Gran Torino sat patiently along the first floor railing. He'd returned from his evening patrol to find the house empty. He'd done a quick sweep of the house and Izuku Midoriya was nowhere to be found. The boy had proven himself capable of traversing the city alone and had adapted to the new area well. There was no way he was lost.
What could be taking Midoriya so long? He should have been back before me.
It was at that moment that the front door opened, revealing the boy in question.
"Ah, there you are Midoriya, I was starting to worry you had been mugged or something."
Izuku passed through the doorway, closing and locking it behind him as he entered the home.
Wait, something is… amiss.
The grocery bag slung across the boy's shoulder was scuffed up and the loaf of bread peeking out from the top looked slightly misshapen. But more than that, Izuku Midoriya was just… different. Physically he looked the same, but there was something within the boy that hadn't been there before.
His eyes aren't as cloudy, he isn't looking back anymore. There's a future in Midoriya's eyes.
"I'm sorry Gran Torino, while I was out I dropped the bag and the groceries spilled out. I hope they're still fine to use."
He set the bag down carefully with his left arm onto a side table.
"Do you mind if I go to my room?"
Gran Torino couldn't help the smile that wormed its way onto his lips.
"Sure, an old man like me can still carry a bag of groceries."
Izuku nodded and then slipped away into the hallways of their large home. Gran Torino picked up the groceries and watched the boy's receding form. For some reason, a sense of relief drifted through him.
-oxoxo-
The next day, Izuku was quiet and thoughtful. This persisted throughout the morning and into the late afternoon until he called out a hasty goodbye to Gran Torino before departing into the late autumn weather.
"I'm going to see mom, I'll be back tonight."
The door closed swiftly and Gran Torino could only let out an amused chuckle. Something was definitely different about Izuku Midoriya.
-oxoxo-
Izuku arrived at the hospital half an hour after leaving home and approached the front desk. The nurse on duty looked up from their work.
"Oh, Izuku, here to see Inko?"
He nodded and smiled politely as he signed into the hospital's visitors log. He exchanged goodbyes with the nurse and soon found himself sitting beside his mother. Since her admittance into the hospital back in Musutafu, the bandages around her head had been removed, revealing the peaceful and serene face of Inko Midoriya.
Her breathing was slow and steady, matching beat for beat with the hissing of the steam generator. Izuku slowly placed a hand over hers.
"Please wake up soon."
As hard as he tried, he couldn't stop the tears from falling.
"I miss you so much."
He sat beside her a while longer, the final stretches of grief running its course, until a gentle calm settled into his mind.
Izuku sat up straight and wiped the tears from his eyes. He looked softly at his mother one last time before standing to leave.
"I'll be back soon," he said with a sad smile.
The hospital window allowed the last rays of daylight to pour through, covering the room in an orange gold glow. He had to go home.
Home.
His thoughts turned to the old hero who had adopted him. The memory of his first night in Yamanashi now struck a chord that hadn't been there before.
I think I understand why Gran Torino took me in.
He navigated the halls until he passed through the front doors and stood on the cobblestone streets of Yamanashi. Izuku looked around for a moment, taking it all in once more.
So much went wrong. Everything's different. But...
He smiled softly.
I'm not giving up.
Embers kindled in defiance within the coldest reaches of his heart as the emerald fires of war were stoked with the breath of a new host.
No more sulking.
His fist curled, the vestiges of his strength whitening his knuckles as he imagined the roaring cheers of the coliseum.
I promise… I'll make this right.
-oxoxo-
Night had fallen across Yamanashi when Izuku returned home. Gran Torino stood against the railing of the pit waiting, a smirk along his features. Closing the front door, he strode forward until he stood across from the old hero.
I've wanted to be a hero ever since I could remember. But All Might was right, I can't be a hero if I can't even save myself.
His left hand was curled into a tight fist as he presented a determined smile.
I'll have to start here.
"I want to get stronger."
Gran Torino chuckled until a raucous laughter filled the building. As it died down, a quick burst of air left his feet and he landed on the rails edge, now eye level with Izuku.
"It's about damn time. Now..."
Gran Torino blasted off the rails and landed deftly within the pit.
"...show me what you got kid!"
Izuku felt an almost explosive force rocket within him. It was as if Katsuki's blasts had left kinetic echoes throughout his very being. Never minding the three meter drop, Izuku bounced back on the balls of his feet and leapt over the railing.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.