Anywhere but Here
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The air reeked with copper, but only for Izuku. The world blurred and faded, darkened, but only for Izuku. Sniffling, crying, stifling his sobs by biting into his forearm, he hid underneath the catamaran.
The rest of his class would find him, tease him, torment him, but he hid all the same if only to delay the inevitable, to buy a few precious moments of peace so he could weep in solitude.
It all started innocently, as all things do.
They arrived here by bus. Izuku sat in the back by himself, but he didn't mind. Field trips helped him overlook little things like bullying, isolation, and the loneliness they planted in his heart. The Musutafu Museum of Humans and Natural History welcomed the class with open arms, guiding them on a tour through the zigzag course of humanity's story.
Several other buses parked nearby, other classes, other schools, each arriving in order and starting their tours in separate parts of the museum, allowing the students too see everything without overcrowding any one exhibit.
"K-Kacchan," he called out, excited at what he found on a plaque the tour guide didn't mention. "Look! These people did such amazing things without any Q-Quirk! It says here the Polynesians traded with the South Americans, all the way across the P-Pacific, that they s-settled islands together! And that Easter Island—"
Bakugou Katsuki answered his academic excitement with a swift blow to Izuku's face, splitting his lip. The two middle schoolers stared at each other, one bleeding, in shock at the sudden and public outburst of violence, the other in disgust.
"I don't care about these dead Quirkless losers." Katsuki wiped Izuku's blood from his fist by shoving his knuckles deep into his pocket. He pointed down at Izuku with his clean hand. "I don't care what they did without Quirks, about their trade, settlements, any of it. I don't want to even be here. Who cares about a bunch of genetic rejects we out-evolved over two centuries ago?"
Izuku's heart froze in his chest.
Could anyone else hear Kacchan? Was the teacher watching? They'd get in trouble.
Izuku's blood tasted bitter, worse than other times, as though all the truths Kacchan dropped on him seasoned it with bile.
"Of course, you care, Deku. You're one of the leftovers. Now stop bothering me and getting in my way." He turned without offering any help. His lackeys didn't say a words, just followed their leader as they shuffled back into the throng of students, leaving Izuku out and alone, separated from the herd.
Instinct told Izuku to scramble, rise, and rejoin the others, but shame held him down. Tears flooded his eyes, and he couldn't see anymore. He sniffled and realized his nose was bleeding, hot plasma mingling with watered-down snot.
He clenched his teeth and fled, scurrying on the ground like a wounded insect, backing away until the shadow of a trans-oceanic catamaran obscured him, let him disappear from anyone and everyone seeing him like this.
He gripped his knees and curled into himself, bracing against a storm that roiled around his mind. These people were heroes. They accomplished so much, strove to the horizon, and they made their world a better place. They saved each other from wildlife, from weather, and they did more with their lives than he or Kacchan had ever done.
They weren't losers.
Izuku wasn't a loser. He tried telling himself that, but he didn't believe it.
Footsteps, lots of them, echoed into Izuku's ears while he shut his eyes hard, stars and patterns lighting up the inside of his eyelids.
I wish I were like them, like the heroes that crossed the world without knowing what they'd find, who they'd meet. It didn't matter that they were Quirkless! People like Kacchan shouldn't look down on them just because of that!
[The first {Condition} is met.]
What was that? Izuku opened his eyes but couldn't find the source of the voice, loud but also quiet, like someone speaking directly into his ear, or maybe the back of his head. It made no sense.
There was more light down here than before. He poked his head, peering out from under the boat suspended above him only to discover how utterly alone he was. The class moved on without him, leaving him in Polynesia while they continued to an exhibit about the Ainu and other northern tribes in the next room, part of this wing's theme, Indigenous Peoples of the Pacific.
Did they even notice he was gone? Would anyone notice if he stayed here?
"I d-don't want to be here anymore," Izuku mumbled low, as though saying it too loud would attract attention. Despite his shame, the truth was undeniable. He wished he could be somewhere far away. It didn't even matter where.
[The second {Condition} is met.]
What was that? Was someone here. Izuku looked around again but retreated quickly when footsteps flooded his ears, shadows filling the room as another group of students followed their guide through the exhibit. Maybe they'd appreciate the Polynesian Migration better than his classmates did.
Part of him doubted anyone would care, either about him or history.
Even his own friends didn't care. They just wanted him to shut up and play the Villain for their games so they could beat him up.
He never wanted to play the Villain. He hated it. A secret part of him, a tiny seedling carried in a catamaran across a hostile sea, stowed below cargo he'd need to survive, like hope, thought Kacchan would make a better villain than Izuku ever could.
He almost chuckled, but it emerged as a sob.
"Hey, are you lost?" a girl asked.
Izuku froze as though a fist wrapped around his heart, and any sudden movement would kill him. He turned, wide-eyed, cold museum air chilling his exposed whites, and stared, fearing what or who he'd find.
She knelt between him and the light, obscuring her face. Her hair rose into a ponytail before splaying out like a geyser and cascading like a waterfall behind her. She had a womanly figure, and Izuku could tell she was tall, probably taller than him despite how she crouched, knees together with her palms pressing her skirt against her thighs.
"I'm not lost," he muttered before swallowing thick unpleasant emotions and mucus enriched saliva. "I don't want to be f-found."
It hurt to admit that.
She held out her hand, offering an open palm to him. He stared at her long, elegant fingers. Everything about her felt angelic, soft but strong.
Heroic, but not proud, less like a mighty fist and more like a gentle pat on the head, as though she were the embodiment of reassurance and warmth everyone needed from time to time.
Everyone? Even Izuku?
He shook the thought from his head and retreated deeper into the darkness under the catamaran. "Please, just let me s-stay here a bit longer. I don't w-want anyone to s-see me."
"I see you. Don't worry about what I see. I'm not going to hurt you or laugh at you." She turned her palm down before half-crawling towards him, scooting along the museum floor without messing up her skirt or showing too much thigh. Her movements were practiced, self-conscious, and restrained, but as she approached him in his hiding place, everything faded away except for her.
She was beautiful. Hauntingly, agonizingly beautiful.
Her hair shimmered like black lacquer in sunlight. Her skin was smooth, pale, flawless. She had a soft, almost sad smile, a girlish face that contradicted her large breasts and flaring hips, as though her body couldn't decide where she should grow from puberty and where she shouldn't.
It felt like she was larger than him, stronger. That was a low bar, Izuku admitted. It's easy to be bigger and better than a coward in the shadows.
Shame welled up in Izuku's chest. For the first time in his life, a girl decided to approach him, talk to him, really interact with him, and he was a hiding, awkward, shivering-sniveling mess.
"Miss Yaoyorozu," a voice called out behind her. "What are you doing down there?"
"Sensei," she turned halfway to look out from under the boat. "There's a lost student here from another school. May I be excused to help him find his classmates?"
The man knelt next to her before his eyes glowed, banishing the darkness that Izuku needed to obscure himself. "You there, young man, are you hurt?"
The girl turned to see what her teacher revealed and gasped.
Izuku let go of his knees and felt his face. Hot. Wet. He drenched his hand with crimson-brown ichor from his nose and lip. "P-Please," he sobbed. "I don't want to go b-back. J-Just let me stay here longer."
The man sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. Thankfully, that meant closing his eyes, allowing Izuku to comfort himself with obscurity again, but by then, it was too late.
She reached for him hesitantly. "Oh, you poor thing, here, let me—" she stopped herself long enough to roll up one of her uniform sleeves.
Izuku stared at her wrist when it glowed, marveling as she pulled a thick pad of gauze from the illuminated patch of skin. "Wow," was the most articulate thought he could produce.
She pressed the gauze into his soaked fingers. "For your nose and lip. Please, apply some pressure to stop the bleeding."
He smothered his nose and upper lip, finally touching and feeling how extensive the damage was, allowing himself to feel the pain radiating from his face. Izuku winced. She didn't just make it from cloth. It was medicated.
He was even more impressed with her than before.
The world wasn't and never would be fair. She was kind, beautiful, and had an amazing Quirk, and he was just Izuku. But at least, with someone like her in it, the world wasn't a completely horrible place.
He wished he could be like her, that he could help people he'd just met without a second thought. He always had the intent but never the ability. He wished he had more to offer people, more he could do to help them.
[The third {Condition} is met.]
He stiffened at the strange voice, wondering if either the girl or her teacher heard it as well. No, they didn't. "Th-Thank you," he lowered his head towards her, a clumsy mockery of a bow.
What was happening to him?
"Sensei," she spoke over her shoulder while locking her eyes onto Izuku. "Someone needs to get him to his teacher and school. If you'd like, I could—"
"Alright," her teacher interrupted. "I have to stay with the class while we continue on the tour. Yaoyorozu, take this student to the front desk and return straight away. We have no idea which class he belongs to, so the museum staff should take this on, even if they are stretched thin with this many classes here today."
Izuku wanted to object, but the only noise his throat made was a pathetic squeak.
No! Don't send me back there! No one is this nice there! No one! I don't want to go back!
She let her knees touch the floor before bowing low towards her superior. "I won't let you down, sensei! I'll be sure to return promptly and rejoin the tour! I won't ask for an excuse regarding the after-field-trip report either. Thank you for having faith in me!"
"I'm only trusting you because it's you, Yaoyorozu. If it were anyone else in the class," he sighed between his teeth, almost a hiss. "Anyway, I see that we're about to move on. Be sure to find us after. Ask the front desk for a map that shows the route of our tour, and make sure it's ours and not another' school's they point you towards."
The man hesitated while she nodded to his instructions, then rose and left to follow his students and their tour guide.
Silence filtered in and surrounded them under the dark cover provided by the boat above them. Izuku swallowed. This wasn't how he imagined his first time alone with a girl would turn out. He wished he had a better opportunity to be himself, alone with a girl somewhere where he wouldn't have to look like this.
[The fourth {Condition} is met.]
What on earth was that sound? How hard did Kacchan punch him? Did Izuku hit his head on the floor?
"Hey," she prompted. "Why don't you come out here and stand up? I won't bite."
"You're n-nice." Izuku tried to smile, but it hurt too much. "You sh-should go with your class, so you don't m-miss anything."
The girl edged her hand closer to him, insistent. "You should be with your class too. Come on."
He nodded, squeezed another tear from his eye, then found enough resolve to accept her hand. She pulled, gently guiding him while he ducked his head to avoid impact with the suspended boat.
The world invaded his eyes with light, far too bright and open and vulnerable for his taste. He turned to face his savior, the girl who still held his hand as though afraid he'd fall without her support. Maybe she was right.
Tall.
That word dominated his mind. He assumed she was taller than him when she dominated the space under the catamaran, but he had severely underestimated the difference between them. This girl was too much like a full-grown woman, with long legs and a bosom that belonged on someone at least three years older than her, but her face and voice betrayed that she was no more than a year apart from him in age.
Shame flared within him, growing, consuming his self-worth. He felt like a child next to her, a boy in the wrong league, standing next to a woman he had no right to even look at. Everything from her body to her mannerisms screamed maturity beyond her years, and he deferred to her on impulse.
He wished he were taller, more impressive, something, so that he could look her in the eye.
[The fifth {Condition} is met.]
Izuku shook his head in confusion. What is a condition, anyway?
[{Condition}: prerequisite before a feature can unlock.]
Wait, what? The voice answered a question! What's a feature, then?
Silence echoed in Izuku's skull.
Her voice, timid but compassionate, interrupted his thoughts. "Are you alright? You've been, well, oddly quiet, almost angry looking, and you won't look at me."
Izuku didn't want to be rude. He focused on her, forced himself to see her face, her little nose, her dark expressive eyes, and tiny pouty lips, weighed with a worried frown. His neck and face felt feverishly hot.
"I'm s-sorry!" He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed low, but she kept her grip on his hand no matter how much he wanted to pull away, to recoil into himself. "You're too pr-pretty to look at!"
Oh. No. He said that out loud.
She coughed. "I, um, thank you? I've not heard that one before."
He bowed lower, hoping to hide his face without looking like that was exactly his intent. "M-May I have my hand b-back, miss?"
She gripped his fingers tightly. "Promise me you won't run away or hide somewhere and that you'll come with me to the front desk."
He shuddered but nodded. "I pr-promise! I w-won't hide from you."
"Good," she released him, and already he missed the feeling of her slender fingers wrapped around his. "So, I'm Yaoyorozu. It's a pleasure to meet you."
He didn't look up to see if she bowed with that introduction or point out that he heard her teacher use her name earlier. Instead, he stuttered, mumbling through his first attempt to introduce himself to a pretty girl.
Bowing down towards her, he discovered her perfume. She smelled like cherry blossoms. His stuttering worsened.
"What? I couldn't make that out." She inclined her head to the side after his second attempt, bending at her knees until she could glance sideways, making eye contact with him despite his humble posture.
He straightened up and stared into her thoughtful, ink dark eyes. "My name's M-Midoriya! It's a pl-pleasure to meet you!"
She braced herself, inhaling to withstand his volume, but smiled when he covered his mouth from embarrassment. "It's alright to be nervous, but you also don't have to be nervous, Midoriya. It is good to meet you. Um," she glanced around the exhibit. "Do you like history? Maybe Polynesian history?"
Samoa, Fiji, Hawaii, all the islands, and the sea routes that connected them were sampled here, relics of a people that spread out so far that they each branched off and became distinct from each other.
Luaus, hulas, grass skirts, canoes, tools for carving, hunting, fishing, and more were displayed in discrete glass cases, sterilized by objectivity and distance. The museum spent more time on dull monotone definitions, showcasing their academic contribution than it did to convey the human experience, the joy and wonder of exploration, of discovery and faith these people had to chase a dream beyond the last horizon.
Izuku walked to a nearby map and traced the journey, starting far to the west, broadly covering the Philippines and Indonesia before continuing to the Melanesians, Fiji, and many islands beyond. It was a zigzag, chaotic mess, and it took hundreds of years to cover it all. Still, the ardent need to explore yet remain connected, all was summarized so neatly on this map.
I wish I could see that kind of journey through, to see so much and touch so many lives.
[The sixth {Condition} is met.]
"I like this," Izuku swallowed down the itching sensation that something was wrong with him and chose to stay present with this nice girl, with Yaoyorozu. "I like knowing that people c-could do all of this without a—"
Oh no.
"Without a Quirk?" she asked while stepping in alongside him.
He flinched, afraid. Would she reject him, leave him alone now that he wasn't just a bullied kid, but a Quirkless one too? Would she taunt and tease him like the girls at his school did?
"I have a, hmm, a friend who's Quirkless," she turned away from him and walked to a statue-replica, a to-scale model of the faces that litter Easter Island. "He works hard, and I hope he finds happiness someday."
"What does your fr-friend do?"
She bit her lip before answering. "He's a butler, also a chauffeur. He seems happy doing both of those, but I know he's smart enough to do more if he wanted to. He seems happy."
Fading into the background, letting others shine in the spotlight, helping, supporting, smiling in the background, and cleaning up after them. Izuku knew the feeling well.
Izuku followed behind her. Something between hope and fear gripped him. Did she feel pity for her friend because he was Quirkless? Did he want her to? Did Izuku want pity?
No.
I don't want your pity. I want you to see that people like me can still do things, still accomplish things. I wish I could get people to see that just because I'm Quirkless it doesn't mean that I'm worth less than them, that I can't do as much as them!
[The final {Condition} is met. Tutorial features will unlock during the present sleep cycle. Congratulations on earning the {First Accomplishment: Begin Play}.]
What? Izuku shook his head and allowed the irritation from his confusion to cloud his judgment.
"That's not h-happiness, Y-Yaoyorozu." He pointed to a depiction of a luau, a feasting celebration accompanied by smiles, dances, and laughter. "These people, these p-people were happy. They carved out a world for themselves, raised families, and crossed oceans. They weren't told they were less than anyone or anything else!"
He strode purposefully to the other side of the room. There were no pictures there or tools on display. Instead there was a tame, non-confrontational map showing European flags attached to various islands that were as far from Europe as any place on earth, but still not far enough. The text that accompanied, while emotionless, painted a grim picture.
Polynesian slaves abducted to labor in South American plantations, mineral exploitation, island-based plantation and land rights revoked, foreign diseases, second class citizens trapped in their homes by invaders; the museum summarized all of this in neat bullet points as if the inhabitants felt nothing when these villains forced them to submit.
"These people were unhappy," Izuku placed his palm flat against the map. "Some of them still are. Being told what you can and can't be, what the limits are that you'll never surpass, what you can't achieve. The Qui-Quirkless feel that every day, and the islanders felt that and worse. At least when I'm an adult I'll get a ch-chance to vote, as long as the Quirkless still get to do that I guess."
Silence echoed. A dull thrum, nothing but Izuku's heartbeat and breathing interrupted the abject absence of the girl's response. His heart lurched. He didn't even know her given name, and he repaid her kindness and good intentions with more acidic frustration than he remembered venting out in his whole life.
He turned to face her and stopped.
Until now, she was tall, regal, angelic, powerful in a way only a woman could be. Now, though, her lower lip trembled, and she couldn't meet his gaze. "Is what, I mean," she braced herself with a lungful of determination before restoring eye contact. "Do we, the Quirked, do we make all of you feel this way? Did I hurt you by showing off my Quirk? I wasn't trying to brag, to show off, I just wanted to help and—"
"Y-You're the nicest girl I've ever met! I j-just met you, and you're already better than anyone at my school! I didn't mean to m-make you feel bad for helping me! You shouldn't feel b-bad at all, and I'm sorry!" He bowed low and wondered if it was possible this day could get any worse.
[Yes.]
What?
Her feet turned in towards each other like she was about to curl into a ball of shame and self-loathing like he sometimes did and—
Izuku shut his eyes tight. "I think your Qu-Quirk is amazing! You made this for me on the spot, and it's even m-medicated! I don't know how it w-works or what the limits are, but you should f-feel proud of what you've done! I'm grateful that you st-stayed here to help me! Thank you!"
He gasped, straightening up, only then realizing he used up every molecule of air he could to say all of that. She stared at him with widening tear-brimmed eyes. He couldn't let her beat herself up for being nice to him. "You're not the one that told me that I'm wor-worthless, or that I shouldn't have b-been born! I don't c-care that some people have Quirks when I w-want one, not if they're nice like you!"
Her tears freed themselves of the girl's eyes, leaping down her cheeks, desperate to escape the melancholy that bridged between the two of them. Her teeth bared while her lip trembled, a strange mixture of sorrow and rage. "Someone told you that you shouldn't have been born?"
Izuku tried to form words but only uttered unintelligible nonsense.
She pressed a fist against her chest, which drew Izuku's eyes, but he looked away immediately out of fear and respect, not wanting to accidentally stare at her breasts. "It doesn't matter what you can or can't do, Midoriya! You deserve the life you were given and the chance to make something good out of it! Don't let anyone ever talk to you that way!"
She remembered my name.
The thought rocked into him so thoroughly that he forgot to apply pressure to his gauze, allowing it to fall away along with his hand, exposing his bloody lip, trembling despite the pain as tears welled in his eyes, obscuring the angel in front of him as if curtained by a waterfall.
He wished the world could be fairer, that it was possible to bridge the gap between them, to earn his way to being as gifted and as good as her.
[Bonus {Condition} met. Additional features will unlock at {Game Start}.]
Izuku's eye twitched. Just what was that?
She crossed the distance between them and retook his hand. "Promise me that you won't let anyone talk to you that way, that you'll find someone to help you!"
"Th-That's why I want to b-become a hero so that no one has to feel what I'm feeling right now." he smiled despite how much it hurt. His lips cracked from effort and begged him, but he ignored the pain so she could see how happy she made him.
A horrified, pitiful glance stole away the determination in her eyes. She banished the expression as quickly as it grabbed hold, but the damage was immediate. Izuku's heart clenched in his chest as tightly as Yaoyorozu's fist was earlier against hers.
You can't be a hero, her eyes said.
She measured out her words cautiously. "It'll be hard for you to do that. It'll be hard for me, even with my Quirk." She glanced around them before pulling him to an exhibit of tools. "For me, it would be like making a canoe with only those. For you, it would be like you were forced to use your bare hands."
Izuku fought to keep smiling but the expression hurt for new reasons. "So, you're s-saying that I can't—"
"You can," she interrupted. "But it will be harder for you than anyone like me. I'm fighting against my parents because they want me to do and be something else. You, though, Midoriya, you have to fight the world and you'll have to do it all on your own."
He appraised her seriously. Tall. Strong for a girl. Determined. Beautiful, which would help her popularity rankings but not much else. Her Quirk, though, if it worked anything like he thought it did, she'd be amazingly powerful. Beyond all that, though, was kindness, the kind of thoughtfulness that heroes needed to make sure they didn't miss anyone, rescued everyone, helped the weakest and saved them from the strongest villains.
He squeezed her fingers and looked up into her eyes. "You're going to be a great hero. If all you're fighting is your parents, you'll win, and you'll save so many people. Yaoyorozu, I just know that you'll be amazing at it!"
She furrowed her brow, but that didn't suppress her growing smile. "How can you know that?"
He was too excited to hold her hand. He released his grip on her and pointed at the gauze she made. "You have an amazing Quirk! You made this for me on the spot! I b-bet you can make way more than just this! And you're smart! And kind! You'll f-find everyone that needs help the same way you found me! You'll look down, and you'll help! You're the f-first person I met that isn't a hero yet that should become one!"
Wait. He blurted that out before processing the words. Were they true? What about—
Kacchan.
Shouldn't Izuku's friend become a hero as well? Of course, he should! He'd save lots of people with his powerful Quirk.
Right? Wouldn't he?
The girl sniffled. "You're the first person to tell me something about me that's heroic other than my Quirk and we only met a minute ago."
Izuku shrugged and grinned. "You st-stayed with me and want to make sure I get back safely. I-Isn't that what a hero does?"
Her giggle was music that lulled him away from despair into joy. "Does that make me your hero, Midoriya?"
His grin felt like it would split his face. An idea took root in him so thoroughly that he no longer felt any pain or the fresh trickle of blood from his happiness reopening the wounds. "Y-Yes! Yes, you are! Hold on!"
He ducked to the floor and pulled his backpack over his head before unzipping it. Yes, he was the only kid in class to bring his backpack, and yes that earned remarks, stares, but he didn't care.
Izuku wouldn't be Izuku if he left his home without at least one notebook. He pulled his treasure out, sure that she was someone worth sharing it. He showed it to her with pride swelling inside him alongside tremoring anxiety.
"Hero Analysis for the Future," she read aloud, already moving into position alongside him to see what he wanted to show her. "You study heroes as a hobby?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "It's what I dr-dream of being, helping p-people, saving them. I study all their m-moves and their Quirks. Oh, I even have s-some autographs!" He showed her a few next to the pictures he drew of each hero. Then he found what he wanted to show her, give her, and make her feel as special as she made him feel by staying for him.
A blank page.
He offered her a pencil.
She tapped her chin in confusion. "What? What do you want me to—"
"I get to be the f-first person to ask you for your autograph as a hero! Please?" He clapped his palms together then lifted them as if praying, pleading for a huge favor that he wasn't worthy of.
She smirked, pretending to think about it before nodding. "Why not?"
The girl took the notebook from him and started writing. But this was too much time spent for just her signature. Izuku leaned forward, but she stood up. "No peeking! You'll read it later when you're alone! It's too embarrassing to have you read it here in front of me!"
He sat back again, butt on his shins, knees on the hard floor.
She pointed at his face with the pencil. "And keep taking care of your nose!"
Izuku nodded and pressed the medicated gauze to his face again, sitting silently while the first future-hero ever to sign his notebook paced back and forth, as if she were imparting words of wisdom that might open his pathway to joining her on her journey towards helping as many people as they could.
Oh, he hoped that was what she was doing! Every audible scratch of graphite on paper felt like an itch he needed to soothe, and only reading would stop the itch! But Izuku remained still despite his excitement.
She flipped to another page or two, then back to the blank page, filling it with more text. Finally she looked up from his notes, smiled, and shut the book. "There! My first autograph for my first… well… maybe not fan, but, well, anyway! Here you go!"
It felt like a holy relic, more so than ever before. He accepted it reverently.
"Thank y-you, Yaoyorozu," he barely whispered. "I pr-promise not to peek at it until later."
"I'm holding you to that," she emphasized the words by handing back his pencil. She held it with a firm grip, not letting him have it until she said, "Not even here in the museum. Later. When you're home. Got it?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "G-Got it!"
He happily put the notebook back before slinging his pack over his shoulder where it belonged. The two moved through the exhibit as if reluctant to leave, but they knew they had to. Each needed to return to their classes whether they wanted to or not, and Izuku felt better, stronger for this encounter. Maybe heading back wouldn't be so bad.
"I can d-do it," he said, mostly to himself.
Yaoyorozu stopped and looked at him. "Midoriya?"
He turned and looked at the catamaran. He hid under it just a minute ago, cowering, afraid, ashamed. Despite that, Yaoyorozu's words lit a fire inside him. "I'll build one with my b-bare hands. I'll make my t-tools, and I'll build it… my path to becoming a hero."
She transferred her gaze from his injured face to the boat in front of them, resting here after countless journeys across the Pacific, ranging from one chain of islands to the next, a testament to a form of heroism no longer appreciated in the modern age.
"I look forward to seeing what you build, then, and the kind of hero you'll become." She smiled. That edge of sadness bled from her eyes, that creeping doubt that hurt Izuku's heart more than Kacchan's insults.
She knew he was facing the impossible, that he might not achieve anything with his handicap, but she offered him something no one else had before.
Encouragement.
{}
A Note from the Author
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It's been a long time since I wrote a new fic, but I've toyed with this idea for over a year, so I had to put it to the page.
I intend to write chapter two shortly before I dive back into my novel. I want to write what inspires me until the novel is done, so don't expect a predictable update schedule for a while, though I do foresee more Babysitting and Reflection in the not too distant future.
All that said, Happy New Year 2022!
