Chapter 18: momo says the fuck word

One…

Two…

One, two, three, four!

A drum fill set up the entrance for the rest of the instruments, lush keys providing a harmonic backbone for the bass and rhythm guitar to do their thing. His eyes were closed, allowing his ears to do all the heavy lifting.

Six, two, three, four…

Seven, two, three, four…

One more count, and his fingers rolled down the fretboard, sliding up to reach the first note of the melody. Everything stopped, the tension rising by the second as silence reigned supreme—finally, he played a run that was the musical equivalent of releasing a held breath.

Steven grinned as he played, letting the music wash over him. This song was purely instrumental, a way for everyone to warm up and get used to each other's playing styles. They traded solos, Steven handing his off to Denki, who played some metal-inspired phrases before passing it off to Momo, whose jazzier style of play worked far better than Steven expected—even if it did give him whiplash considering who she followed.

Everyone fell silent except for Bakugou, and Kyouka came in, a distortion pedal kicking in and giving her bass guitar a growl that was positively electrifying.

Pardon the pun.

Bakugou took back control with a wild solo, sticks hitting the cymbals and toms at what felt like dozens of times a second.

Finally, they came to the end of the song, a roaring crescendo that built into a flourish from everyone in the room, ending on one last chord. Everyone was left panting from exertion, sweat running in rivulets down everyone's foreheads—especially Bakugou, who wiped off as much sweat as he could with the towel he had.

"That was sick," Denki gushed.

Bakugou snorted, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Fuck yeah it was, Pikachu. Although, it would be nice if we had a vocalist." He said the last word with a pointed glare in Kyouka's direction.

It was a shame, Steven lamented. Kyouka was a phenomenal singer with a gorgeous voice, but she was held back by her own self-confidence issues, adamantly refusing to sing in front of anyone else.

And he understood. If Kyouka wasn't comfortable with it, then he wasn't going to force the issue like Bakugou was doing.

But he couldn't help but think that it was a shame that she wouldn't at least try.

Well. He could work on that.

Kyouka rolled her eyes even as her cheeks reddened slightly at the obvious call-out. "Don't know how many times I have to say this, but no. Not yet, anyways."

Bakugou scoffed. "Whatever." He rolled his head to both sides, two loud cracks emanating, any echoes deadened by the sound-absorbing foam that was installed.

Steven smiled. Even though Bakugou had a bit of a prickly personality and refused to let himself be close to anyone in their band, he could tell that the boy did care, deep down.

Very deep down.

But even if he pretended that he didn't want friends and wasn't interested in making any, Steven wasn't blind. He could see the way that he softened up whenever he was around Kirishima (haha, get it, softened up?) and he personally thought that Kirishima was a fantastic influence on Bakugou.

Kyouka huffed. "Why doesn't Steven sing?"

"Hey, she has a point!" Denki turned towards him suddenly. "You have a good voice too!"

He shook his head. "That wouldn't be fair to you guys—I'm not a student, and with luck I'll be going back home soon."

And despite the fact that he said those words, he couldn't truly believe them, not with the utter lack of progress. All they'd done was confirm that warp pads did not seem to exist anywhere on this planet. They didn't have the capabilities to explore the galaxy—they didn't have gem tech. Each and every day he woke up and had to face the fact that no, he wasn't back home, deal with the terrifying truth that he may never find a way to return, his heart aching for his family even as a new one tried to worm its way in.

Oblivious to Steven's internal monologue, Momo nodded absently. "As long as we're not planning on performing… actually, are we? Planning on performing, that is."

"I know a few venues where we could get gigs," Kyouka said as she absentmindedly strummed a few chords. "Although, we probably don't have time for that—Yaomomo has her work study, and the rest of us are probably going to be busy with homework and shit."

"Ugh, right?" Denki complained. "The calc homework is kicking my ass. Ectoplasm-sensei please." He threw his head back in exasperation as he said the last word, and he accidentally banged it against the wall behind him. "Fuck!" He clutched his head in his hands, in too much pain to say anything about Kyouka and Bakugou's riotous laughter.

Steven, fortunately, took pity on him. "Here, I got it." A quick application of healing spit cleared up any pain, although he couldn't do anything for the inevitable emotional damage.

"Sit down, my boy," All Might scrambled to his feet after Izuku stumbled into his office. He should have felt bad about coming in so rudely—he'd barely even heard the response after knocking before entering—but at that moment it was far from the greatest source of his anxiety.

Well. Two greatest sources of anxiety, now. The first, obviously, was Eri's predicament. Every time he closed his eyes, images flashed in his mind of what she could have been going through.

If he tried to think about something else, his mind automatically went to his conversation—argument?—with Shouto. He hated arguing with the people he loved. Case in point, he didn't think he'd ever argued with any of his friends. Perhaps Tenya, when they'd been planning the rescue mission for Kacchan? Other than that, there had never been a single moment which could even be construed as an argument between him and one of his friends.

And now? He was scared he'd lose one of his best friends to Steven.

The potential villain.

In an effort to avoid thinking about the newcomer and their encounter from the previous week, Izuku forced his gaze up from the floor and observed All Might.

They'd been in this position many times before—Izuku sitting on the couch as his mentor bustled around his office to prepare tea for the both of them. Izuku used to try to offer to make tea instead, but All Might always refused—and when he was finally convinced to let his student try, the result was so bad that they entered a silent agreement to let the older man make the tea.

…Something was different.

Something was different about All Might. Something about the way he moved, and acted, and even breathed.

There was something, something…

He couldn't stop the gasp from escaping his lungs as he made the connection. All Might noticed, and asked, "What seems to be the matter, Young Midoriya?"

And even as he asked, even as he walked over to the couches carrying two mugs of steaming hot tea.

Hot tea, when he used to only make their tea warm at most, given that his hands were shaky from all of his past injuries, and he was prone to small spills every so often.

Hands that were no longer shaking.

"Y-your hands…" Izuku struggled to keep his voice level, even as fear, worry, anger, betrayal clashed within him. "They aren't shaking. D-Did you? Get Steven to heal you?"

All Might seemed to notice Izuku's expression, and gently placed the mugs on the coffee table before sitting across from him. "My boy—"

"You said that he might be a villain," his voice broke.

"I did," All Might agreed, his voice soft.

"You—you reinforced my suspicions."

"I spoke to your other teachers. They unilaterally agreed that there is no way Steven could be a villain."

"What if he's—"

"I also spoke to Tsukauchi-san," All Might interrupted. "The detective interviewed him the day he arrived."

"Then he might not have asked the right questions!" Izuku fired back. "What if he brainwashed you? What if—what if his healing spit can brainwash you like Shinsou can?"

"Young Midoriya." All Might didn't yell—he never yelled—but his tone was no-nonsense, the kind that silenced fans and villains alike. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is my fault. It was wrong of me for encouraging your suspicions. You have an incredible mind, my boy, but because of that you are prone to overthinking certain things—which may have led you to become paranoid in this instance. For that, I'm deeply sorry. Furthermore—you yourself should know that One For All wouldn't let me become brainwashed, unless you've forgotten your fight with Young Shinsou from the Sports Festival?"

The last of his conviction nearly torn away, Izuku desperately scrambled for a last desperate attempt. "But you—"

"But nothing," All Might rebuked. "This was all my fault—if I had just decided to talk to Steven before I infected you with my suspicions, then there would be no issues to speak of. While I can't speak for his actions, I can tell you from my conversations with him that he has a heart as heroic as anyone's from your class."

Izuku fell silent, his last pillar of support crumbling. He had but two paths to choose from here. He could choose to continue being suspicious of Steven—living in fear, his relationships with his friends slowly deteriorating as Steven proved himself time and time again to be a good person, one that didn't deserve to be the target of Izuku's ire.

Or, he could admit he made a mistake. That his paranoia got to him. He could apologize, attempt to become friends with him and atone for all the horrible things he could now see he'd done.

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, and when All Might moved to his couch to pull him into a hug, he realized that he'd already made his choice.

It took him a few minutes for his sobbing to subside, which All Might helped with as he held him close and murmured sweet nothings every so often. Gasping breaths rattled his chest every few seconds, but those too eventually went away.

They settled into the peaceful silence easily, as if nothing had ever changed—and maybe nothing ever had. Now, all he felt was relief—because All Might was healed. His hands didn't shake, and he hadn't even coughed up blood yet—something that tended to happen, on average, every seven to eleven minutes. He focused on these good things, these positive things, a small smile slipped onto his face.

Of course, every good thing that happened to Izuku just had to end in the most unfortunate way at the most inopportune time.

Case in point, just as he was about to drift into unconsciousness thanks to the warm and unnaturally comfortable embrace of All Might, he was rather rudely interrupted by a text alert on his phone. He half-considered just ignoring it, but knew that it would be smarter and safer to check it now, in case it was an emergency.

His forethought was justified a moment later, when his brain processed what he was seeing and jumped off of the couch in shock.

"What is it, Izuku?" All Might asked, his facial expression slightly marred by worry. "Has something happened?"

Even the fact that All Might used his first name didn't faze him—his focus was locked onto the text message he'd just received.

[Sir Nighteye—17:47:29] - Location confirmed. Minato Police Department, 08:00 tomorrow. Be prepared for anything.

"I-It's Sir Nighteye," Izuku said. His expression darkened as he realized what this meant. "We're raiding a villain's hideout tomorrow."

All Might nodded. "I see. Do you feel prepared? Maybe some last-minute training?"

"Maybe. I-I just—" Izuku made a split-second decision. "There's this little girl…"

They all stared at Momo in silence, her face reddening under all of the attention that was directed towards her.

"You good?" Kyouka asked, which was a pretty justified question, considering that Momo—prim, proper, and composed Momo—had dropped her phone on her keyboard and swore for what was probably the first time ever.

"My apologies," she hastily said, her face as red as a tomato by this point. "That was uncalled for."

Denki snickered. "Oh my god, Baku-bro is rubbing off on her."

"Don't fucking call me that, Pikachu."

"I'm with Kyouka on this," Steven interjected before Bakugou could start an argument. "Are you okay, Momo? You seem worried."

She waved away their concerns, after a moment of hesitation. "There's nothing to worry about—I was just surprised. There's been a… breakthrough involving the case that we were working on. I'll have to be in Osaka by eight tomorrow morning."

Denki whistled in appreciation. "Damn, sounds sick. Good luck out there."

Kyouka glared at him. "I don't know, it doesn't seem very sick to me that one of my friends could get hurt in a villain fight." As he apologized meekly, she turned to Momo. "Be careful, alright? I'll be watching the news tomorrow morning—maybe you'll show up there." Her smile was returned by Momo, alongside a new red tinge to her cheeks.

"Ooh, I'll come too!" Denki's eyes lit up. "We can have a watch party! Steven, Baku-bro, you guys down?"

"Sure!" Steven grinned. "I don't think I've seen any villains or villain fights yet."

"Bakugou?"

"…Fine, tsch," he scoffed.

Momo giggled. "Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, everybody. However, I do believe it's about time that we went down for dinner, no?"

"Sounds great." Steven grinned.

Steven sat down, sinking into the unfairly soft mattress that UA had graciously provided him. His arms were a bit sore, and he knew that the calluses that had started to form on the fingers of his left hand would be gone by the next morning.

A sigh escaped his lips, motivated more by mental exhaustion than the physical kind. He did have fun today—more than he had in a long while.

So why couldn't he stop feeling guilty?

(He knew why. Whenever he caught himself slipping and felt himself having fun, a pang shot through his heart at the thought that he couldn't share that moment with Connie, with Amethyst, with Pearl or Garnet—not to mention Peridot, Lapis, Lars, and the rest of his friends and family.

He wasn't doing enough. Steven was still trapped, and it was his fault that he was still here.)

And the thing was, he couldn't help but feel affection for these kids—yes, he thought of them as kids even if he was only a year older. They were like the younger siblings that he never had. Every moment spent with them had them worming their way into his heart, inch by bitter inch.

And he couldn't help but feel it was a betrayal.