Secondhand
chapter three

Toshinori had to go.

It was a bitter truth Nana tasted, like the bottom dredges of tea where bits of leaves remained. It was what she had accepted when she had realized her dreams of becoming a hero. After Tadao had taken her hand, so tender, and married her, and after she had held her son—

Duty first.

That had never meant that Toshinori wanted to go; just as it had never meant Nana had not wanted to stay. But they were heroes, and Nana understood when she reached up to trace the line of Toshinori's face.

"You could still— come with me," he said, hopeful but fleeting. "Or I could… I could…"

"I know," Nana said gently. She stepped back. "I'll see you again, Toshinori."

"I don't want to go."

"Don't keep standing there," she said, more insistent now as she patted his cheek roughly. "Go on, squirt. Dawdling isn't going to do anything for either of us."

Toshinori sighed. One last time. "I…"

"You have your place, and I've got mine," Nana said firmly. "It's only for a few days. After I'm done here, I'll visit. And then we'll see what happens next."

Sorahiko was a little more crass.

"Get off my lawn!" he shouted, dragging Midoriya out the door.

"What lawn?" Nana heard Midoriya's voice float distantly.

"Doesn't matter. I've been waiting my entire life to say that," Sorahiko said. He poked his head back around. "You're getting sappiness all over my floorboards. You know how hard that is to clean?"

"You heard him," Nana said, looking at Toshinori and hearing her own laughter in her voice. Toshinori smiled wryly.

"Just a few days," he said. He frowned. "Well, I'll be— going."

"A few days," Nana promised. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"Only once," Toshinori answered solemnly, but he did turn and walk slowly out of the door. His back retreated, and even his tall form shrunk with distance. Just like that.

Nana let out a shaky breath. It was not easy to leave. It was also not easy to let go.

They'd decided she was going to stay with Sorahiko for the duration of the internship, a quiet, out-of-the-way place where Nana would attract no attention. She'd help train Midoriya, at least a little. Then Nana didn't really know. But she was a hero, and there was always work to do.

She went to join Sorahiko and Midoriya for their training session outside. They'd already been at it this morning, even though Nana had woken up early—old age hadn't stopped Sorahiko from not wanting to waste a bit of time, and if anything, it had spurred him on. Now it was already mid-afternoon, nearly evening though the sun hadn't yet begun to set.

Nana hadn't gotten a chance to see Midoriya fight, though. She and Toshinori had spent the time talking.

They were training in the alleyway. Nana leaned against the building, observing, making notes to herself.

Sorahiko sprung between the walls, streaking back and forth. He was cornering Midoriya in a familiar move—attacking unpredictably, taking advantage of his own speed to spin dizzyingly around in a rush. Nana tracked his movements. A glancing blow. Sorahiko moved fast and higher than could be followed, then dropped, fists raining down.

Midoriya backed towards the wall. Hit.

He rolled, narrowly avoiding a tight fist; then Sorahiko lashed out with a foot. Hit.

"Move faster!" Sorahiko called, rocketing to land in front of Midoriya. Midoriya lunged and missed, and Sorahiko took the opening to grip Midoriya's arm and flip him over the shoulder. Definite hit.

Sorahiko leapt before he could be tackled, and Midoriya slowed.

He glanced in Nana's direction, then away. Gritted his teeth, wiping at his mouth. Determination flitted across his face.

That was when Nana knew. The tides were changing.

The next time Sorahiko came swinging, Midoriya was ready. He twisted cleanly out of the way of Sorahiko's fist. And then he dodged the next hit.

And the next.

And the next. He moved the way Sorahiko did—unexpectedly, but there was a pattern forming. He'd pause, but then he seemed to sense where Sorahiko would come from.

Sorahiko had noticed, too. Nana crossed her arms, raising her brows as she watched Sorahiko stop to carefully reconsider his approach.

"Interesting," Nana muttered, keeping her eyes on Sorahiko as he moved. Then she turned her full attention on Midoriya, observing the way he moved, the way he carried himself.

He stumbled, and the confidence that had buoyed him disappeared.

Sorahiko struck, and Midoriya launched himself back, arms lifting—

Nana couldn't stop staring.

She felt her own hands lift of their own accord, mimicking Midoriya's. Because a green light was beginning to spread across his arms, flickering and beautiful. Leaping arcs of energy like lightning spread across Midoriya's body, and he moved faster than he had before.

The light...

He caught himself, knees bending, then launched himself forward. A lightning strike, quick and stunning to see. Sorahiko dove left, and Midoriya vaulted past him—but Nana caught the barest impact of his knuckles to skin. He'd gotten a hit on Sorahiko.

"Time," Sorahiko said immediately after. "And we're done for now."

The crackling energy around Midoriya disappeared. Nana put a hand to her chest and felt her heart thudding there.

"But," Midoriya protested. "There's still— I want to try..."

Sorahiko sent him a withering look as Nana schooled her expression and moved closer.

"We're done for now," Sorahiko said again. He looked when Nana's shadow fell over them both. "I saw you watching."

Nana nodded, mulling over the fight she'd seen in her head. It hadn't ended how she'd thought it would.

"A-ah...," Midoriya murmured, but he didn't look surprised to see her standing there—no, he had caught her eye during the fight.

"That was a good fight," Nana complimented. And it had been. He'd lasted longer than Toshinori had in the beginning, though it'd been easier in some sense and harder in other ways. Toshinori had always been tall and lanky, so he made a nice target for Sorahiko to hit; but for Toshinori, at least, he'd taken well to One for All where Midoriya clearly hadn't.

Then she thought about the light, the quick movement, and thought she might have seen the beginning of something different than either she or Toshinori knew of One for All.

"It could've been better," Midoriya mumbled, looking glum. He rolled his shoulders back. "I mean, I messed up, and- and..."

"You didn't do half bad," Sorahiko said. Midoriya's eyes flashed quickly up to his face. "You caught a second wind in there, though you lost it just as quick. How did you know where I was moving, boy?"

Midoriya ducked his head, flushing. "Well- well, you were just too fast for me to keep track of, but um," and now he glanced shyly in Nana's direction, "she was watching you, so I watched her."

Nana made a noise of pleasant surprise.

"Hmph," was Sorahiko's only response.

He might not have looked impressed, but he was. Sorahiko cleared his throat.

"And-"

"The light," Nana said. "That was..."

Midoriya concentrated, the features of his face scrunching together, and the energy appeared again. It spread through his entire body, tracing lines and connecting until it was sparking through every piece of him. After a second, it flickered. Faded.

"I- I can't hold it for very long," Midoriya admitted. He scratched the back of his head and laughed. "It's a... new development. It's just, I was thinking about what you said yesterday, Gran Torino, about the whole thing, and then we had taiyaki, and, well... this is what I came up with."

"Good," Gran Torino said firmly. "We'll see what you can do with that later tonight."

"Later?" Midoriya asked.

"That was One for All," Nana cut in. "I mean, the- the energy, that was One for All?"

He'd been Quirkless before, Toshinori had said. It could not be the effect of any other Quirk. But—

"I think so," Midoriya mumbled. "I've been concentrating it all in one part of me, see, and then I would, like, break an arm and a leg, really. But then I figured if I spread it all over my body it would lessen any impact. I think."

"And it did," Nana said, thoughtful. Midoriya grinned triumphantly.

"And it did," he repeated. "Oh- Gran Torino.. sir, I thought you said we were done."

Sorahiko rolled his eyes. "I said we were done for now, not that we were finished. We'll take some time to rest and get prepared, then we're taking the train out of the city once evening hits."

"Wait," Midoriya said. "Huh?"

Sorahiko turned and trudged back towards his apartment. "We're going to go pick a fight with some villains, boy. Well, you're going to fight, and I'm going to supervise, and kick any nasty ones in the face. It's been a while since I've gone and done that."

He paused to look at Nana. "And you'll come, of course," he said, but it was half a question. From here, Midoriya couldn't see Sorahiko's face—almost pleading.

"I'll come, of course," Nana said softly to her friend. She turned back to smile at Midoriya. "Don't worry."

Midoriya finally started working again as they stepped through the door, and ran to catch up, bursting between the two of them. He apologized hastily, and then looked at both of them with wide eyes.

"Don't- worry?" He looked at Sorahiko, flippant, and Nana, who was used to this kind of thing."Wait, wait, what do you mean, don't worry? We're going to, you're taking me to fight, villains?"

His voice grew small on the word villains. He was scared.

Nana frowned at the look on his face.

"Have a little more courage than that," she said, patting him on the shoulder. He flinched, and she pulled back. "I mean— Sorahiko used to make Toshinori do it all the time, when they were training without me. And I used to take Toshinori on patrol with me when I could. It's good experience."

"Villains?" Midoriya said again. It was like he'd gotten stuck on the word and was now circling it, tethered by a line. "Don't you think that's a little— I hardly have any control over— I mean..."

"That's why we're going with you," Nana said soothingly. "We'll make sure nothing goes disastrously wrong. Chin up."

"Villains," Midoriya mumbled. He wrung his hands together; he looked a little reassured by Nana's offer of safety, but not by much.

"Oh, get that look off your face," Sorahiko said, spinning around. "It won't be as bad as you think. You'll be fine—you might not be able to take me, but you can handle a crook or two. It's not like we're facing S-Rank villains."

Color returned to Midoriya's face. "Okay," he said quietly, and that was that.

She'd seen the way his brow had creased when Sorahiko had mentioned the villain classification ranks they all followed. Most villains, of course, tended to be on the lesser scale—petty crime using Quirks was much easier, but there was always going to be the villains lurking in the shadows. All for One, looming, the puppetmaster of a whole organization of crime that haunted the streets and back alleys of Japan. That crept its roots of corruption into every crack it could squeeze through.

She bit the inside of her cheek and closed off her expression.

"I don't know about you," Sorahiko started, "well. I don't care what you do, but leave me alone."

He glanced at the time, then nodded to himself and disappeared. Nana laughed.

"I don't suppose you're leaving me alone, too?" Midoriya asked, a little sullen, and Nana shook her head. She'd hardly done anything all morning.

"Would you," Midoriya began, then dropped his gaze. "Would you spar with me then?"

Nana shook her head.

"I shouldn't." She shrugged at his pleading look. "Sorahiko's right. You need a break before we go out tonight. You don't want to be in a real fight and be dead on your feet."

They walked to the kitchen together. "I still don't understand why we're going to go fight some villains," Midoriya said offhandedly. "I mean, getting experience, sure—all my other friends are doing some light patrols, I think, but seeking out a fight?"

"Sorahiko can't just train you for the rest of the, what is it, the week? You'll get too used to his fighting style, and you'll get stuck. It's better if you're out there experiencing things yourself."

"If you say so," Midoriya said. She didn't think she was meant to hear that.

"Can I ask you something?" Nana leaned back against the counter and watched Midoriya fill a glass of water. He handed it to her, then took another one out, and she nodded in thanks.

"Uh-huh," Midoriya said, filling his own glass.

"Why did you react like that?" Nana asked. "When we were talking about villains earlier."

Midoriya's face darkened. He stared into his glass, like he was looking for an answer in the way the water distorted his vision.

"You don't have to say," Nana said. "I understand being scared of villains. Everyone's scared. But you seemed to have a..."

She didn't know how to describe it. But she'd seen that look before on a few faces—and she'd seen it on Shinroku's face, struck pale.

"I don't think you know much about Class 1-A, do you?" He peeked at her face. "I guess you wouldn't know. Er, well... earlier this year, when we- when we went to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, for training... the League of Villains attacked us. It was— bad."

"The League of Villains?"

"That's.. yes," Midoriya said, "and they weren't just a— I mean, it was planned. They targeted us specifically. And the Nomu... Shigaraki..."

"Shigaraki," Nana said. She couldn't say she'd heard the name before; actually it was entirely unfamiliar to her. "He's a villain?"

"The leader, I think," Midoriya said. He tugged his lip between his teeth. "He was directing the others. He gave orders. And he hurt— it was re- really bad."

He tipped his head back and drank from his water deeply so that he wouldn't have to keep talking. Nana paused. She hadn't expected that.

"You're a first-year student," she said. "You..."

"They want to kill All Might," Midoriya said suddenly. He set down the glass, and it rang dully. Water sloshed against the side. He gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. "And they— it wasn't human, it was- it was- strong... I couldn't do anything!"

A chill ran down her spine as more and more of the story unraveled. A creature, barely human if at all, that Midoriya referred to as a Nomu. A creature that had been built to kill All Might.

"He beat it," Midoriya told her, but he seemed less happy about it than she would have assumed. "But... it was a real threat. It withstood him at a hundred percent of One for All.

"And that- that leader, Shigaraki, he would have killed…"

Nana set down her empty glass. She lifted a hand, then remembered the way he had flinched when she had put it to his shoulder earlier and dropped it again.

"I'm sorry," she said, though it didn't quite feel like enough. "You shouldn't have had to go through that."

He was a kid. Strong, yes. Smart, yes. But in the end, Midoriya was at most fourteen or fifteen—no one his age should have encountered and seen what he had just earlier this year. He was already carrying enough of a burden, she thought, the legacy of the number one hero and the heroes before him.

Midoriya shrugged uncomfortably. "Anyway, that's all."

That's all, like it was fiction, just a tale recounted. Nana didn't feel it. Horor was coursing through her veins. She couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for him.

It was true Nana had lived a rough life, but she had never faced anything like that so young and almost alone.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"It's over," Midoriya said. "Everyone lived, and recovered. So I'm grateful."

"It's good to be grateful," Nana murmured, bowing her head. Not everyone lived. Not everyone recovered.

They drifted awkwardly. Nana didn't know what to say, and Midoriya didn't seem like the type to bring up a conversation. They were, after all, strangers. She picked up her glass and began to pass it back and forth between her hands.

"So," Midoriya said suddenly. "Er... you've never seen One for All do— what I did?"

Nana blinked. "No, I haven't. Really."

"Then, why..."

Nana tilted her head. "You know One for All changes as it gets passed on to every user. That may just be the way One for All appears for you, just as you showed me—Toshinori can change, temporarily, his form."

"What about you, then?"

"Ah," she said, bemused, "nothing special, really. You don't actually see much of One for All when I use it, but— here."

She held her hands, palms facing upward, and they prickled as she activated her Quirk. Warmth rushed to her hands, and a light glow formed about them as she moved her fingers, little blue sparks like stars drifting in the air.

"Oh," Midoriya gasped, leaning in to look. "It's a little like me."

"Yes, it is."

"You... actually, All Might said once you would have known more about One for All than- than he did. Can you, can you answer some questions I have? About it?"

Nana frowned.

"I can try." She chuckled. "I'm not sure I know more, but I have thought about it—the better we're able to understand the inner workings of our Quirk, the better we'll be able to wield our own potential. Don't you think?"

He was going to say something, but suddenly Nana realized with a start that an hour or two had passed, and the sky had already begun to darken. It meant that if Sorahiko really wanted to go into the city to find villains, the night was beginning.

"We should leave soon," Nana said. "Get dressed."

"Oh." Midoriya looked out the window. "Oh, sure, yeah. I'll go- yeah."

"I'll get Sorahiko."

She stumbled up, through the familiar hall, and to Sorahiko. He was, as expected, flat on his back and snoring loudly—he'd fallen asleep, apparently. Nana shook his shoulder.

"Sorahiko. Sorahiko."

He jerked up, catching her hand, but Nana didn't panic. He blinked at her in the feathery darkness.

Then he said, "Nana."

"It's time to go, Sorahiko."

He squinted. "Already? Mmgh. Alright, alright, these old bones need some time to catch up. Gah, I don't know why I agreed to this anyway."

"You would have been bored otherwise," Nana said.

"You don't know that."

Sorahiko dressed quickly in his costume; Nana followed suit. There was no embarrassment between them—Nana had seen him and he had seen her. There was nothing that would have made any difference, though Nana did look and see the aged, wrinkled skin and the shaky way he struggled to fit through his clothing. It must have been harder for him now he was older than he used to be, she thought, but Nana did not help him.

Midoriya was ready and waiting nervously. He clicked away at his phone but looked up guiltily when they appeared.

"Let's see what you've got," Sorahiko said, grinning. He seemed energized now that he'd had some rest, rolling his head from side to side and stretching. "Oh, this'll be fun."

"Mmhm," Nana hummed.

Midoriya seemed less shaken by the prospect of fighting villains than he had earlier. Nana was glad he had confided in her, though—it was something she never would have known otherwise.

They took the next train down. Both Midoriya and Sorahiko stood, allowing Nana an empty seat. She took it, but soon she joined them gripping an overhead bar as she gave up her seat to another woman who smiled gratefully.

The world outside passed. At the distance and the speed they were going, there was little detail, only smudges of color and flashes of places like memories flitting by.

Nana hummed quietly to herself, lost in thought. It would take a while to reach their destination, and by then it would be fully dark. The perfect time for crime.

"Next stop," a tinny voice read, echoing. "Hosu Station."

Midoriya mouthed the stop to himself, though that wasn't their destination. The train slowed ever so slightly.

A tingle ran down her neck. She looked around at the other passengers even though she had marked each one as they had boarded. Nana scanned them, looking for any sharp gazes past the newspapers, or suspicion in the briefcases they carried. She had a sense for danger, but none seemed present.

Sorahiko noticed.

"What?" he asked gruffly, and a nearby passenger shot them a glare.

"Nothing," Nana said softly, still scanning. She didn't know what she'd seen, what she'd felt subconsciously.

"Is there a problem," Midoriya whispered. Nana shook her head.

The train lurched.

Nana grabbed the overhead bar with both hands as the train shook violently. The passengers began to talk to themselves. A baby wailed, and the sound squeezed her heart.

She saw it first and threw herself forward, One for All igniting in her. Nana pulled two passengers out of the way as something massive and dark slammed into the side of the train. Glass shattered and broke. A siren wailed, and the young boy Nana grabbed cried.

The creature screeched, a webbed foot crunching against metal, and Nana let go of the boy. She threw a hand out, keeping her eyes trained on the creature, and then the next time it moved she tackled it.

They went flying out of the train. Nana heard her name being shouted, but she couldn't respond as claws tore through the fabric of her suit. She wrestled with her opponent as they fell wildly.

Nana saw the ground coming and pushed off, watching the creature hit the side of a building as she landed in a crouch. Once the shock had dissipated, Nana pulled herself up. Another hero was already rushing towards the area.

She allowed herself one glance back at the train, hole gaping in its side like a throat that had been torn out. But there was no time to go back, no time to think any more.

Nana was still a hero. The creature—the Nomu, she realized, the only thing it could have been—shifted to its feet, growling. There were people to protect.

And duty came first.