Chapter 2

Disclaimer: My Hero Academia is the property of Kohei Horikoshi and various production companies.

Key:

Normal Speech: "Sup my dude."

Screaming: "WHERE THE HELL DID IT GO!"

All Might: "Midoriya my boy!"

Thoughts: 'This was a horrible decision.'

Alright,, lately I've been feeling down but that's no reason to leave everyone hanging. Sorry for making you wait so long but here is chapter 2 of "My Slapdash Attempt At Remaking My First Story Which I Felt Unsatisfied With For Reasons Beyond My Comprehension" (Title Pending)

Izuku's head felt light. Fuzzy. It was like his brain was floating in fog, lazily drifting through the vapor. He breathed in through his nose, and sighed. It might have been a pleasant experience if it wasn't so disorienting. Oh, and it was being constantly interrupted by an dull, yet intensely painful, throb emanating from his face.

When he had woken up, he noted a couple things to himself. If nothing else, it helped him to rationalize his current situation. Firstly, he couldn't see. It wasn't that his eyes were badly damaged or failing. He could make out faint specs of light spread through his field of non vision. It was that his eyes were simply swollen shut. He hoped that was all that was wrong with them.

Second, he wasn't at the school anymore. Nurse Kirigai was the only one in the building by the time he'd confronted Katsuki, and this didn't smell like the nurse's office she would have undoubtedly taken him too. It always had a chemically cleansed scent that burned his nose, just like a hospital room. This place, whatever it was, smelled like an acceptably clean locker room. Under him was a soft padding, and when he stretched out his arms his fingertips had brushed against a box on a counter. He shook it, and after spending so many years applying them to his various scrapes, he could tell they were bandages. Perhaps this place was a sort of emergency room?

Finally, wherever he'd been brought to was filled with some very active people. He heard clanging metal and feet tapping the ground, though for all he knew those feet were snapping into other people. There were strained coughs and Izuku could tell someone was trying to catch their breath.

"Just a few more minutes," said a voice, muffled behind the door to the room Izuku was fairly certain to be a medical closet.

Izuku had relaxed into a lying position with his hands on his stomach. On any other day, he'd be panicked to have woken up in an unfamiliar area, unable to see, and suffering from a potential concussion. Yet, that wasn't what was on his mind.

He was thinking about how badly it hurt. Izuku lifted his hand up to his eyes, and the side of his face. The were swollen too, painfully so. He clenched his fist as he remembered the tight grip Katsuki had taken on his skull before he... Izuku didn't know what to think. He was afraid that if he saw the chain of events for what they were than they could mean something awful. That Katsuki might have just tried to kill him in cold blood.

Izuku didn't feel anger. It had left him while he quietly contemplated what had happened. Instead, he felt nothing. He felt sort of disconnected from the present, making his disorientation so much worse. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and not wake up.

Yet even that was impossible now. He couldn't rest his mind now, while those red eyes watched him, filled with hate. With spite and disgust. Those red eyes burned Izuku up inside. He never wished he could hide from his own mind the way he did now.

He hated himself. He hated his weak body and his heart. He hated his stupid dreams and his lost friends. He hated it all and he just wanted to disappear.

'What was I thinking trying to stand up to Katsuki?' he criticized himself. 'I'm just useless, puny Deku, and he's basically a pro already.'

Izuku wanted to vomit. The first pseudo-fight he'd ever been in, and all he did was scream and fall. What kind of hero to be could have let that happen? What kind of quirkless loser could have dreamed of saving people when he couldn't save himself? He couldn't even save Katsuki from himself. He couldn't do anything. Nothing that might make a difference at least.

"I'm worthless," he mumbled Venomous and cold, those words seemed to cover him like a blanket. It wrapped tightly around his neck as he stewed in that feeling.

"Um," a feminine voice coughed behind him.

Surprised, Izuku yelped and flung himself away from the station he'd been sitting on. The sudden motion provided Izuku with the realization that lying still was all that had been keeping him from experiencing skull splitting headache. Fortunately, he was afford a mild distraction in the form of horrific nausea, which he quietly likened to sitting in the teacup ride while All Might spun the wheel.

Curled over himself, he fought the urge to vomit. It was a failing battle by the sound of his churning stomach.

"I take it you're awake," the woman sounded very annoyed with him, "If you plan to throw up, the trash can is to your left. Oh, and if one drop touches this floor, you'll clean it up with your jacket."

Izuku nodded, but even that minor shaking managed to agitate his headache.. He slowly crawled to his left, feeling around for that trash can she had spoken of. Once his fingers touched upon it, he pulled it towards him and emptied his stomach.

"Great, that smell is going to be here even after I take out the garbage." Izuku could hear the frustrated sigh over the tapping of her foot.

"I'm so," he paused as another wave of sickness rolled over him, "Sorry."

"Uh huh," Izuku could practically feel her eyes roll. "If you're done, could you politely hobble your scrawny ass back to the table?"

Izuku complied with the her orders, though at a pace slower than she would have liked. He leaned against the counter, taking slow and measured steps toward where the voice had been.

"Come on, other people are hurt too," she insisted. "Up on the table, cabbage top."

Izuku frowned at the name, but pulled himself onto the table where the unnamed woman began to probe at his face. She ran her fingers over his cheeks and nose. She flicked at his chin, and noted the areas at which he flinched. Finally, with a firm grip on his head she pried open his left eye.

Izuku's vision was cloudy at best, but he could make out some of the larger details. Light auburn hair that went into a ponytail resting on her shoulders. A sort of teardrop shaped face held her features, like her small nose and black eyes. She was glaring at him, not that Izuku could blame her. The room must have been small because the rancid odor of what he'd left in the trash can was already drifting over. He flushed with embarrassment, made worse by the fact that he couldn't look away or apologize while she dug around his features.

"Don't breathe through your mouth unless you have a mint," she complained, not ceasing to experiment on his face.

"Why are you- ow!" he pulled away from jabbing poke under his eye.

"I'm assessing how bad this is before I start fixing you." She raised a single finger and began to trace around Izuku's injuries. "Wherever it hurts, speak up. You're covered in bruises, but I'm sure you've got some sore spots I can't see."

Izuku nodded and sat patiently while she went over everything. When it seemed she was done, she closed Izuku's eye and began to breathe slower. Izuku didn't know what to think about the stark silence that filled the room, but she had stopped whatever she was doing and now they were just sitting doing nothing. But then he felt better. It was slow, almost unnoticeable, but it happened. First was the bruises. Izuku wished he had a mirror, because he could feel them recede and shrink, almost like magic had rewound his injury. Izuku felt a small bit of warmth small moving over his face, and realize that it was the heat coming off of her finger. She was tracing over him again, but this time she wasn't touching him.

It seemed that wherever her hand hover over, he would start to heal.

Next she worked on his eyes. In no time at all, the pressure from the swelling that had been pressing on his eye sockets began to lighten, more and more until it was totally gone. He started to peel his eyelids open, and once again he could see. It was misty at first, but the obstruction began to clear away, and everything looked normal again.

Izuku looked around the room, and like he thought it was small. A little bit smaller than his own bedroom, but the walls were lined with cubbies and cabinets. He supposed they could be filled with medical supplies, but if she had some sort of healing quirk, why would sh ever need any. Izuku didn't feel the need to voice that however, lest he cause her to stop her treatment.

It took 5 minutes for the woman to finish her work, and Izuku spent them in awe. His headache, he face, his aching jaw, the were all better. She pulled away her hand and looked him over with a satisfied hum.

"Thank y-" Izuku's gratitude was sharply interrupted by a loud smack. It originated from her palm on his face.

While Izuku sat it shock of being slapped by his healer, she checked her wrist and his reaction.

"DId that hurt anymore than normal?" she asked with a distatsted glance.

Izuku just stared at her, gobsmacked. Why was she so casual about hitting him just now? Had he offended her somehow? Why did she slap him so damn hard?

"No," he finally answered, "No it didn't."

"Perfect," she clapped.

With no warning, she violently yanked the boy off of the table top and pulled him towards the door. Izuku hopped to keep up with the woman while she spoke.

"My friend and coworker, Yujiro, was running when he saw your dumbass laid out at a closed school. He brought you here so I could fix you up because apparently I have nothing else to do but wait on you hand and foot." She paused long enough for Izuku to appreciate the sarcasm and to open the door and shove him into the larger room beyond. "He's probably outside, and you're backpack is by the door. Say thank you before you go, and please, never come back. Next!"

Before Izuku could blink, someone rushed past him holding their wrist to their chest. The door closed with a final, annoyed glance from the woman who had healed him.

"I never got her name," he realized.

It was too late for that anyway. She didn't seem like the kind and friendly type, according to the fact that she all but threw him out. Though she had made a good point. Izuku should thank the person who found him, and hopefully he wouldn't slap him in the middle of his thank you.

Izuku turned around to get a good look at where exactly he was, and promptly had a minor stroke. Directly behind him, he'd been hearing a sort of smacking. It wasn't very loud, but the source of the sound was constantly moving. It seemed to wax and wayne in intensity, and now Izuku could see why.

He would call it a fight, but that was far too tame of a word to describe it. Before him, in an eight by eight boxing style ring, stood not two fighters, but two warriors. Izuku could hardly keep up, the two women in the ring were moving faster than some of the proheroes he'd seen in action. And they surely battled with more ferocity. One was in a lowered stance, her legs bent below her as she defend punch after punch from the woman her opposite. Without warning she sprung up, digging the heel of her foot into the gut of the other.

She clinched her arms around the other's, and then began to slam against the woman's ribs with her knees. It was an unrelenting barrage that would have broken a lesser woman's bones, but the one on the receiving end was just gritting her teeth. She must have been gathering her breath, because she broke her opponents hold and reversed it. She bent her self backwards while keeping her firm grip on her opponent's arms, sending her back first into the floor of the mat. Without a second breath, she kicked up and started at it again. The exchange continued, neither one losing speed or strength from the look of it.

The sound of knuckle against skin and muscle made Izuku shake, but the fierce look in their eyes stopped him from leaving. It was like looking and a lion or watching an owl hunt. Violent beauty, unspeakable power. But it wasn't limited to these two, for battles just like it now surrounded him.

There was another fight behind them, nearly as intense. And another to his left between two men that hardly seemed to touch the ground as they twisted and struck at each other. The room was filled to the brim with spartans, all either fighting or conditioning themselves.

Weights and equipment lined the walls, and the center of the room held five rings, all in use. Izuku was suddenly painfully aware of how small, and fragile, he was. He jumped as a man and woman strolled past him in spirited conversation.

"Your pretty fast for a girl with your build," a average sized man admitted as he held an ice pack on his neck. His skin was pale, revealing the man bruises and scrapes that littered his body. Izuku imagined his black hair might have been spiky if it weren't stuck to his sweaty forehead. "I think you bruised my ribs, too."

"You didn't give me much of a choice the way you were bouncing around like that," the lady replied. She was taller than the man by no less than a foot, and had the sort of toner muscular body that preached to years of training. Her skin was dark, or maybe she was just tanned, but it concentrated the blonde streaks in her otherwise black hair. "Maybe next time you'll keep your feet on the ground?"

Izuku looked at the rwo, covered in sweat and bruises. They seemed so laid back and friendly. To think that just moments ago, they were just like the people in the ring before him. What was this place?

"E-excuse me, ma'am, sir?" Izuku called out to them both before the were too far away.

The turned their heads toward him, looking him over in questioning way. Izuku felt his heart rise in his chest, as if all eyes in the room were on him, and not just these two.

"Does he look familiar?" the man asked his companion.

"Sorta," the woman replied. She scratched her chin and squinted her eyes, "Maybe he's someone's kid. Hey, you lookin' for your pa or something?"

Izuku shook his head, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants legs, "I just wanted to know where I was. What is this place?"

At once, the two adults shared a look.

"You don't know?" the man asked. "What did you just wander in?"

"Hey, didn't Yujiro carry a kid in a while ago? I was in the ring when he rushed in, but I think he took him to the back," the taller of the two rubbed her neck while she spoke.

"That's where I came from," Izuku blurted out. "I don't know where this is, and I was wondering, you know if I wasn't taking up your time, if you could tell what this place is?"

"Oh, well we're in the midtown garden district," the man gestured to the windows, and Izuku could clearly see several small businesses lined the street. It was bright enough that the street lamps weren't on yet, but the sun was casting long shadows in the street. "And what this place happens to be is a dojo."

"It's more like a gym, Kaito," the woman clarified.

"I'm sorry Niko, do you see any lug heads slamming weights down on the racks?"

The now named, Niko, leaned over Kaito, smiling far too benevolently, "I'm sorry, do you see anyone in uniform practicing katas?"

"I don't know," Kaito said sarcastically, "I guess all these sparring sessions are normal for gyms too, oh wait, Tipness Fitness Club doesn't offer MMA!"

Izuku began to feel nervous standing so close to the two of them. He felt an ominously volatile clash start to form between them.

"I think I'll find Yujiro and thank him before I go, thanks for the help." Before Midoriya could flee the area, Niko grabbed his shoulder and with a single arm, quickly lifted Izuku and placed him before her.

"You just saw this place for the first time, what do you think? Gym or dojo?" She held firm on Izuku's shoulder, not that he could have moved under her piercing gaze to begin with.

Shaking, he played with his fingers and said, "I wouldn't know either way, really, so maybe I should just-"

"Give it your best guess," she insisted.

"Yeah," Kaito appeared behind Izuku. "We've been having this argument for way too long. An outside opinion to prove Niko wrong would be nice."

Now Izuku felt threatened, and like all other times he felt endangered, he knew what to do. Look for an exit strategy.

"I think we should ask whoever runs this place," Izuku concluded.

At once, he felt the grip on his shoulder release, and both of the two people in disagreement distance themselves from him.

"On second thought, it's not that important," Niko reconsidered, seemingly starting to sweat.

"Yeah, Kylie's probably really busy right now," Kaito laughed nervously. "Let's just figure it out some other time, how about a quick rematch."

"Sounds fun."

Quickly they took their leave, and Izuku breathed a sigh of relief. They were scary just by the sheer fact that they fought on the same level as the people around him, who all seemed to have to have only now started sweating. Who ever this Kylie was, Izuku didn't think he wanted to meet her. He was having second thoughts about finding Yujiro too.

"Oh," Izuku said to himself, "Hey, do either of you know where Yujiro is?"

Kaito called back, "Outside running laps."

"Do yourself a favor and say what you want to say fast," Niko added. "The owner's in today and she has a thing about people with weird hair. Seriously, you don't want her to see you."

"Um, thanks," Izuku said before turning around. He started towards the door before rewinding what he'd just heard. "Wait, my hairs not weird!" he asserted.

"She'll feel differently about that," she tauntingly sung.

Izuku humphed and marched to the door. Closing it behind him, he looked out and saw a wide open field. It was roughly a mile and some length around, the barrier being a beaten gravel path. Inside was just plain grass, but it was filled with people doing various exercises and even more sparring matches.

As Izuku watched the many dozen people moving about on the grassy knoll, he sighed to himself.

"Is everyone here a monster?" he wheezed, defeated."And how do I find Yujiro in all of this!?"

As if to answer his rhetorical question, a figure running on the gravel caught his eye. The person was male, a bit above average height from what Izuku saw, and had close cropped, auburn brown hair. Their legs were a blur on the track as they speed across the field at record breaking speeds. It took maybe sixty seconds for him to dash the half mile, closing the distance between him and Izuku.

The man slowed down as he rounded the corner, coming to a stop just in front of Izuku. With out stopping to catch his breathe, he flicked the sweat off his forhead, and made his way to the door. Now that he was close, Izuku could make out some of his finer details like the spray of freckles across his shoulders, or the fact that his relatively small frame was almost certainly one hundred percent muscle. Izuku wouldn't call him impressively large like All Might, but his muscle definition spoke to years of physical training and discipline.

As if just noticing Izuku was there, he looked down at the boy. Sharp, cold, unblinking green eyes seemed to deconstruct Izuku where he stood. There was a branching scar covering the man's neck, like it had been struck by lightning. When he finally made eye contact, Izuku broke a sweat. Was he some sort of instructor here? He certainly carried the intensity of the gym's other occupants, but he couldn't have been a bad person. After all, he was the one that found Izuku's near lifeless body.

Izuku gulped, preparing himself for another intense character. "Are you Yujiro?"

The man's eye twitched, seeming to recognize the boy. At the drop of a hat, his whole demeanor changed. He dropped to his knees and shook Izuku by his shoulders.

"You're alive!" he smiled, tears at the corner of his eyes. Izuku was taken aback by the youthful voice he possessed, and the older brother like concern he showed.

"Y-yeah," Izuku managed to spout while he was shaken like a doll.

'This guy's body doesn't match his personality at all," Izuku thought.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding very concerned. "Did Zencho heal you alright, do you need me to call someone?"

Izuku was thrown at this strange departure from the other personalities he'd just met. This man's unsolicited concern was a far cry from the rude healer and the threatening pair of fighters he'd just left.

"I'm fine, I just wanted to say thanks for bringing me here." The young boy sweatdropped at the older man's relief. Being so close up, Izuku say that he didn't really look that old. He seemed to be in his early twenties, same as the healer, Zencho, and Kaito and Niko.

"I'm glad to hear that." Yujiro nervously laughed, "I won't lie to you, when I saw you, I thought I found a dead body."

Izuku gulped, thinking of his body gathering flies in some alternate reality.

Yeah," he responded sounding brittle, "Me too."

"What happened to you?" Yujiro anxiously voiced, "Why was you face covered in ash when I found you, why did you smell like smoke, what were you-"

Yujiro paused when he felt the boys arms go limp. Izuku didn't make eye contact, seeming more comfortable with keeping her head down. Yujiro's heart sunk, and he released his grip on Midoriya. Rather the stay in the boy's face, Izuku sat down in the grass next to the entrance and motioned for Izuku to do the same.

"I'm Yujiro Haruno," he offered while Izuku sat down next to him. "Do you mind if I ask yours?"

"It's Izuku," he said flatly, "Midoriya."

"Sorry about badgering you just now," Yujiro scratched at his scalp. "You were just… I found you in a bad shape is all."

"Yeah," Izuku said discerningly. "I'm okay."

"Yeah, now." Yujiro shook his head, "You're okay now, but I could have chosen a different street to run, and you could have been there till morning. How often does that happen?"

"What?" Izuku looked at him questionably.

"How often do you have to defend yourself," Yujiro asked seriously.

"Not often," Izuku lied.

Yujiro scoffed, "You are the worst liar, but just so you know, don't try that to often around here."

Izuku nodded, "I'll try not to lie for the next 3 minutes I spend here,," he said before standing up. "Thanks for saving me, but I need to get home. I can give you my number, and you can tell me how to pay you back."

Popping to his feet, Yujiro followed Izuku inside and continued to speak.

"Pay me back by becoming a member here," Yujiro quick stepped to in front of Izuku with a smile. "I'll consider us even if you learn how to defend yourself, and then I won't have to worry anymore."

Izuku blinked. Yujiro smiled brightly as he continued.

"Have you thought about learning to fight?" Izuku sped up, though he couldn't walk fast enough to overcome Yujiro's long stride.

"Yes, but I don't really have the time," Izuku squeezed past the many occupants of the gym, now avoiding looking at any of the ongoing matches.

"Well I don't want to toot our own horn, but lessons here are pretty fast, it's just the practice that takes a while," he weaved through a swarm of observers entrapped by a match, "You could do those at home."

"I'm short for cash right now," Izuku lied. His mother gave him a generous 200 dollars every month, and nearly all of it he saved.

"We don't charge for lessons," Yujiro defended, "We just ask that if you come here, you work together to improve each other's skills."

Izuku picked up his pace upon seeing his bag near the door, "Really, I'm fine. I don't plan on hurting anyone."

"I wouldn't offer lessons if you were," Yujiro said from just behind him. "Besides, you don't look like the type to attack someone. I'm just asking if you want to know how to defend yourself."

Izuku slipped his backpack on and made towards the door, but Yujiro moved in front of him. Izuku felt a pit grow in his stomach, but he breathed deep and looked down.

"Why do you care so much?" Izuku demanded, Izuku could buy him being concerned for the boy he'd found in critical condition, but why be so persistent in getting him to join this strange gym, dojo, place? "Why do you care at all?"

"Because I get what's happening to you," Yujiro shook his hands slightly, "Kinda."

Izuku rolled his at the young adult with clear disbelief. Yujiro scrunched his face slightly.

"What, you're the only person in the world to ever suffer?" Yujiro admonished the boy with a shake of his head, "Don't this those injuries make you special, cause everyone's got scars."

Yujiro tilted his head up and swept over the branching scar on his neck. Izuku felt a lump in his throat as Yujiro lingered on the raised, pinkish wound.

"My quirk is useless when it comes to combat, and I've got all the marks and broken bones to prove it," Yujiro then leaned down to look Izuku in the eye, "But I didn't let that be the end of me, Izuku. This place, the people here, the owner, they all made me strong. It was all so that I could live, and not crawl."

"I'm not crawling," Izuku bit back, though he lacked any real sense of passion of defiance.

"You're right," Yujiro glared with the intensity that Izuku had first seen him with, "If you crawl you're at least putting the effort in. You're just gonna roll over until someone digs your grave for you."

Yujiro didn't see so much as a twitch from the boy. Izuku stillness didn't belay the cold shame that had wormed its way around his spine, nor his want to just disappear. Who was this guy to tell him how to live? Why should he care what Izuku does, and why should Izuku care what he thinks?

Was it because his words resonated with him? Did Izuku see this for what it was?

A last ditch effort. Hope.

His first step of many, if he really meant to follow wherever his dream led him.

Just as Yujiro wondered if his words had done more harm than good, Izuku spoke up.

"I think…" he raised his head, allowing his wetting green eyes to look at Yujiro's own hazel gems, "I think I want to try."

Izuku offered his right hand, letting it rest between them as he waited for Yujiro to reciprocate. Yujiro slapped it away, and wrapped Izuku into a comically tight bearhug.

"I knew you'd come around, little man," Yujiro swung Izuku around without releasing his hug/choke-hold. "You'll do just fine, here!"

Izuku croaked under the strenuous pressure, "Thanks for having me."

At once, Yujiro froze. Izuku felt a new, and thankfully less intense headache, begin to onset from the sudden whiplash. Yujiro dropped IZuku on his feet before nervously humming to himself.

"Having you, right." The young man sighed before taking a seat, "We're gonna have to tell Kylie that we have a new member."

"Is she against that sort of thing?" The green haired boy was less than comfortable with Yujiro's unsure appearance.

"She's not against new members, but…" Yujiro's eyes grazed the top of Izuku's head. "She's got a thing about hair, and she's an sorta of acquired taste anyway."

"Acquired how?"

"Like you start to get used to her after your third senseless beating," Yujiro started to count off his fingers while he rolled his eyes around. "Or maybe the fourth."

"What about none?" Izuku laughed, not in the least bit convincing.

"I'll find her, you should try to do something about your hair while you're hair." Yujiro began to walk away, and Izuku just stood there dumbfounded.

"Like what?" Izuku gestured to his nappy green mess of curls and waves.

"Niko!" Yujiro called out, scanning the crowds, "Niko, you here today?"

Izuku watched as a match on the other side of the room abruptly ended. Now that he was paying attention, Izuku say that it was the two people he'd met prior to finding Yujiro. Niko stepped out of the ring while Kaito stayed behind to wipe up.

"What's up man?" she stopped before Yujiro, towering above him in height as well.

"Do you have any hair bands or anything?" He ran back to waved his hands all over Izuku. "This is why."

"Oh hey, it's that kid from before," she smiled at Izuku.

"Hi, M-ms. Niko." Izuku nervously waved.

"Niko is fine, no one goes by titles here," she looked back to Yujiro. "Why does this kid need grooming?"

"Because I need to fix him before Kylie sees," Yujiro hands made a chopping motion at Izuku's neck, too which Izuku raised his brow.

'No one could be as intense as they're making this Kylie out to be,' Izuku argued, though he didn't dare say such a thing out loud.

It was at that very moment in time, that the entire room which had previously been rather hot, no doubt do to the body heat of its many occupants in their constant motion, dropped several degrees in temperature. A freezing cold seemed to curl around Yujiro's body in an attempt to reach Izuku. Both Yujiro and Niko were shaking as if they were cold.

"Before I see what?" Izuku's heart skipped a beat.

He couldn't even see the owner of the voice, but he felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack. It was suddenly very heavy as well.

"Heeeeeeey," Yujiro feigned confidence and casualness, in her presence, "I just wanted to get our new member all ready to meet you."

"That's funny," the voice said, as light footsteps stalked towards Yujiro, "Because until I meet them, and until I approve, we don't have a new member."

"I know that," Yujiro took a step backward, while Izuku scuttled to the wall. "But I just got the feeling you'll like him."

"Hmm," Izuku watched as Niko unsuccessfully tried to escape the conversation, "Oi, did you meet him, Niko?"

She winced at being named, "Yup," she prayed Kylie would leave it at that.

"Well what did you think?" Kylie asked sternly. Zuku looked at the angle Niko was looking at Kylie by, and deduced that she must have been just a few inches shorter than herself, which was still second place for the tallest person in the room.

"He seems good," Niko sweat bullets under what must have been an intense glare. "Lots of room for growth. And it looks like he really needs this place."

"Where is he, I've got things to do, so let's hurry it up."

'Wow,' Izuku quietly thought, 'She's tied with that Zencho girl for the meanest one here too.'

"He's around," Yujiro played off. "You just do what you gotta do while I find him."

A long silence filled the immediate area, one that Izuku was very uncomfortable with. Yujiro was starting to fold under the pressure of this woman that Izuku couldn't see, and Izuku didn't like the idea of anyone that could scare a guy like Yujiro.

"Is he behind you?" she asserted more than asked.

"Yes," Niko blurted out.

"Dude," Yujiro looked at her accusingly, throwing his arms out the the universal symbol of 'Really?'

"Move over Yujiro," Kylie commanded. Yujiro swallowed deeply, turning around to look Izuku in the eye apologetically.

Taking to quick steps to the left, Yujiro revealed the shaking form of Izuku, who held his backpack in front of himself defensively.

Now without a body to obstruct her appearance, IZuku was surprised to see that the source of the forceful and intimidating force was a gray haired old woman, someone that could have been his grandmother. If Izuku's grandmother had prominently defined arms and legs, shockingly lacking in wrinkles. She had lustrous grey eyes, like steel or iron, and her hair was the same shade. She stood with her arms crossed as her line of sight took in Izuku's form.

"What the is my first rule?" she asked. Izuku struggled for a moment, wondering if she was asking him.

"When I found him he was-" Yujiro tried to spit out.

Kylie raised a single finger to silence him. As she did so, she breathed in deeply and rolled her neck, releasing several clicks before turning to look him in the eye.

"First rule, Yujiro. Repeat it." Izuku couldn't help but be amused as Yujiro was scolded like a boy who'd brought in a stray dog.

"People with stupid hair bring stupid problems," Yujiro recited.

"My hair's normal," Izuku whispered under his breath.

"Don't speak," Kylie snapped at the younger boy. The way she popped her lips made an audible clap, and it brought Izuku to notice that the whole room was silent. He could see Kaito and Niko watching from a corner When had she left?), huddled with many of the other occupants of the gym. "Back to you, why did you think it was a good idea to break that rule?"

"Because he was dying?" Yujiro's uncertainty made Izuku cringe.

"Hmm," she seemed to linger on that thought, and the entirety of the gym relaxed their collectively, tight enough to crush diamonds, sphincters. "No."

There was an audible retightning of buts and there assoicated holes.

"No?" Izuku dared to ask, missing the dismay of Yujiro next to him.

"No," she asserted, scrunching her brow at the two of them.

Now, Izuku doesn't know how it happened, and in the many years he had to question it afterwards, he would never find any explanation for it. In what could colorfully be described as the time it takes Izuku's tears to fill a large bucket, Kylie had not only flipped Yujiro over her shoulder, and preceded to kick him across the room. She had also managed to appear behind Izuku, hoist him up by the back his neck with a single hand, and tossed him at the exit.

"No," she repeated, "That is not a good enough reason to break my rule."

"My bad," Yujiro wheezed. He landed on the door to the medical station ironically enough, and before he could begin to peel himself off, he was slammed into the adjacent wall when the door was violently flung open by none other than Zencho.

"Alright, who's dying," she groaned as she stepped out of her station. Her flickered to the many frightened occupants shying away from her door, and noticed that they were shying away from the front of the room.

She looked over and saw Izuku standing up, weak in the knees and frozen on the spot he'd landed in.

"Oh, you're still here? Go home, I'm not fixing anything else you break today."

"You knew about this," Kylie directed the accusation at the ill-tempered nurse.

"Yujiro didn't tell me anything, he just showed up with that guy," she poked her finger at the aforementioned jade haired junior, "Plopped him on my table, and peaced out."

"Yujiro!" Kylie snapped.

"Yes," he sighed from behind the door.

"What are you doing in the wall?" Zencho snorted.

"Go outside and run laps until I say you're done."

Like a soldier, Yujiro trudged from behind the door, and exited the building. Izuku mourned the loss of his only ally in this crazy situation.

"The rest of you, get back to your practice. No one slacks off in this building," Kylie ordered. It was all the instruction anyone else needed, and so they resumed their matches and exercises, doing their best not to stare at Izuku or Kylie in the front. Zencho rolled her eyes and retreated to her station, uncaring to any of the going ons of everyone there.

Izuku had yet to move from the spot he was thrown to. His mind was still frozen trying to make sense of the impossibly fast and strong 60 year old woman that just ragdolled a healthy young man and himself. Kylie it seemed, had no patience for his shocked stuper.

"Hey, are you stupid or something?" Izuku looked up to the woman as she impatiently tapped her foot. "Get lost. Split the scene. Go home."

Izuku looked at the door. Through the window, he could see the setting sun. If he wasn't home soon, his mother would be worried, and that would be an ordeal unto itself. Not to mention that fact that walking alone at night was practically asking for trouble with villains. He wasn't sure if he was far enough from home to need a bus and those only ran so late, and there were just so many reason he had to go home as soon as possible and forget this place, but he couldn't.

He couldn't because those hateful red eyes were still burning him even now that he could see. He couldn't because he still felt the ghost of Katsuki's palm wrapped around his face lighting to ignition. He couldn't because he was transfixed on the unreasonable strength of nearly everyone in the room, except for him.

It didn't have to be that way. Izuku could become strong the same way these people had. He could train and fight and learn until he was never the way he was today. Useless.

IT might have still been a pipe dream, but he could still hope couldn't he. This place could be his origin. Where he took his first steps towards his dream. He could be a hero.

"I want to try," he muttered to himself.

"Oi, what's with the mumbling," Kylie questioned. "And why the hell were you staring for so long?"

Izuku stood up, dusting in himself off as he took a deep breath. He made eye contact with Kylie, but flinched away. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat, and faced her.

"Please let me come here," he stuttered over his words as he bowed.

"Hmm," Kylie raised her brow, "Why?"

"W-What?" Izuku gulped. His stomach dropped as she glared at him, and she seemed to wordlessly command he look her in the eye.

"You heard me," she corrected. "Why?"

"Because I ummm," Izuku struggled with his words, and he felt his stomach drop to his feet the longer he waited. "I want to learn how to fight."

Kylie considered his words, but she did so quietly. She closed her eyes and seemed to bat his request around to herself. Izuku felt more and more like he was being stared at, but he didn't move. He wasn't sure why, but this felt right. There was no denying that this was a nerve wracking experience, but it was right. He wanted this.

Kylie blew air out her nose, and came to a conclusion. She leaned to her side and picked up Izuku's backpack. Coldly, she tossed it to him, and kicked open the door, letting a cold breeze in that sent shivers down Izuku's spine.

"No," she shoved the boy into the fleeting light of the sun and continued. "I'm not in the habit of taking in liars."

Izuku's budding hopes were nipped as the door closed in front of him.

Happy holidays. This week gave me a chance to reorder myself, and I'm ready to put myself back into my writing. Sorry for being a jerk about updates, but I'm letting you know this story ain't dead, like Izuku's dreams amiright. Too soon? Probably. See y'all in a bit.