It was hard to believe, but the trip to the Nighteye agency, the sting operation and the fight with Stain had all happened on Tuesday, and by Wednesday afternoon Recovery Girl had seen them all back on their feet. Thursday dawned almost surreal in how ordinary it was, and all four of the students were able to return to their internships. Iida and Shouto walked out of the hospital in their UA uniforms and in the company of their mentors, to make the trek back to the Hosu agency and start a patrol right away. Hitoshi and Eraser took a cab to the train station, the better to avoid the public eye until they were back in Musutafu, and Izuku and Mic snuck out the back.
Reporters had tried repeatedly to get into the hospital since Tsuragamae had released the police department's official statement. Some of them were still camped out front when Izuku and Mic were smuggled out through a service entrance, but thankfully none of them had thought to look for Mic's car. Manual had kindly driven it over late Tuesday night, and it was parked out back in the inpatient parking lot. As he shut the passenger side door Izuku breathed a sigh of relief, grateful they hadn't been waylaid.
Mic hadn't coached him on how to give a statement following this debacle, which Izuku could only assume meant that Mic had no intention of letting him anywhere near the press.
"Hell of a way to spend the first half of your internship, huh 'lil listener?" Mic said as he craned his neck to look behind himself and backed out of the parking space.
Izuku made a small noise in the affirmative, watching his mentor to avoid looking out the window. Mic's hair was still free of gel, thrown into a loose bun at the back of his head, and he'd swapped out his orange shades for an ordinary pair of glasses. Izuku himself was back in his hero costume with his hood up, obscuring his face, and he privately thought they could have walked straight out the front door without being recognized.
"This win is going to put you in the spotlight," Mic warned as they circled around to the street in front of the hospital. Izuku wasn't looking at the cluster of reporters, but he didn't hear a clamor go up, so he assumed they had passed by unnoticed.
"I accept that," Izuku said carefully. "I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to assume responsibility for the other interns. Anyway, being in the spotlight was always the plan."
"Didn't think it would happen this soon though, did you?" Mic asked dryly. "No," Izuku admitted. "I know I'm not really ready-"
"You're not," Mic agreed flatly, then glanced at Izuku with a raised eyebrow. "That's why UA is going to put the full force of its weight behind keeping the press off your back."
"What are you going to do?" Izuku asked nervously.
"The administration is preparing a blanket statement reminding all news sources that the school can and will prosecute any members of the press found harassing its students," Mic said. "This has been a standing policy with UA for a long time, but we're going to remind everyone it's still in effect, and will be enforced."
Izuku swallowed. The last thing he wanted was for someone to get in trouble just for talking to him, but he supposed that he couldn't help what other people did. He would just have to keep himself out of public spaces to avoid presenting the temptation.
"You can't be taking the train to and from school anymore," Mic went on. "A member of the faculty is going to be driving you from now on. It'll be me when I have time, but I think most often it'll be All Might."
"All Might's going to be driving me to school every day?!" Izuku squeaked, voice going a good octave higher than normal.
"He said you know about his skinny form," Mic said, then spared Izuku a curious look. "Not sure how that happened, but if you know then it should be obvious he has the most excuse for dipping out of hero work for a few hours a day."
Izuku nodded, fighting the urge to curl in on himself. It felt terrible to know that All Might, the Number One Hero, would have to lower himself to shepherding Izuku to and from school. Even knowing about his time limit, knowing that he couldn't have been doing hero work during that time, it felt like taking so much of All Might's attention was unforgivable.
"Hey, hey," Mic said, snapping Izuku out of his contemplations. "What's with that face? Don't tell me you're disappointed at getting to spend time with the Symbol of Peace himself!"
"No!" Izuku said hurriedly, then lowered his gaze again. "It's just, I'm sorry I'll be such an inconvenience. I'm not worth-"
"Protecting?" Mic finished for him, in a knowing voice. "Yeah, that's another thing we have to talk about."
"I'm not sure what you mean," Izuku told him. "I know UA has to protect its students, but I'm just-"
"A promising hero student with bright prospects?" Mic guessed. "An asset to the hero community as a whole? A child who deserves to be taken care of, regardless of what his future might hold?"
Izuku gaped at him. Never had he heard an adult, a teacher, talk about him in such a way. It was one thing to accept that he'd done something valuable, but to believe that he was valuable, as a person, seemed a very distant sort of thought. The idea that he might be worth protecting even if he never did anything worthwhile again was all but foreign to him. He knew, intellectually, that such things were true of other people. For him, however, the rules had always been different.
"I'm starting to get the impression that Bakugou might not have been your only hater before UA," Mic said seriously, "so listen up. Your life is not a petty sacrifice. It's not less important than anyone else's, not even someone like me, or even All Might. If you give your life to save someone else, someone still dies, and that's still unacceptable."
"But," Izuku struggled to grasp Mic's logic, "everyone deserves to be saved." "Everyone includes you," Mic said meaningfully.
Izuku opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted to get what Mic was saying, and the point seemed to be dangling just in front of him, but every time he tried to reach out and grasp it he felt like he was being burned. Something in his mind just wouldn't let him accept what was being said to him. He wondered if this was like Shouto's mental block, preventing him from using his fire.
"I know this is difficult for you to accept," Mic said, and his voice had gone very gentle. "I know it's easier to understand it mentally than to believe it in your heart. But I want you to keep telling yourself that you're worth saving. You should also be trying to internalize that you're just as good, just as talented as everyone else in your class, but there's time enough for that later. The first thing I want you to understand is that you deserve to be saved just as much as anyone else."
"I guess," Izuku said, still looking at Mic with wide eyes.
Mic looked at him, and seeing Izuku's expression he gave a slight wince.
"Look," he said, "if it helps, look at it as a kind of training. You've gone a long time believing something that's not true, so you're going to have to retrain your brain to believe what I'm telling you. When your muscles are small and weak, lifting heavy weights seems impossible, and it's the same way with you believing you're less than others. Keep working at it and eventually you'll be able to do the heavy lifting of believing your own value."
"But-" Izuku began, trying to think of how to articulate what the problem was. What was holding him back? "Is that really OK?"
"Yes," Mic said firmly. "I know it doesn't feel right, but remember, you're doing it because I told you to."
"OK," Izuku said quietly, then reached up and pulled his hood down off his head, freeing his curls as he looked forward now they were away from prying eyes. "If you say so."
Mic didn't take him on another patrol during his internship. Instead they stayed at the agency, practicing with Izuku's force lance and going over safety rules and tips for dealing with fans. Staying completely sheltered until the capture of the Hero Killer blew over would be impossible, so Mic wanted Izuku prepared for whatever attention he might garner.
"Fame's a double edged sword," Mic warned him over lunch on Friday. "Different people will sit up and take notice for different reasons."
"You mean like villains?" Izuku asked, after swallowing his mouthful of noodles.
"All kinds of people," Mic insisted. "That's another reason you'll be getting an escort to and from school, and why it's important that it's a Pro. Stain made some serious waves, so we can expect a mixed reaction from the bad guys."
Izuku opened his mouth to say that dealing with villains was just part of a hero's job, but then he recalled what Mic had told him to keep telling himself.
I'm worth saving.
He swallowed his protests and went back to his food.
Mic wanted him to get as wide a variety of experiences as possible, so they also dropped by the radio station on Friday morning. Mic had done the show remotely for the two days they'd woken
up in the hospital, but watching him in the studio was a different experience altogether. It was impressive how closely everything had to be timed, and Izuku found himself asking questions of the technicians in the soundbooth where he'd been told to wait. They were all used to heroes, and did little more than congratulate him on his recent success, but one timid intern did ask for his autograph.
When Mic came to fetch Izuku he was happy to sign the girl's notepad as well, and he snapped a picture of the two signatures with his phone.
"Your first autograph's special!" he said, grinning. "You gotta remember you've got fans out there cheering you on!"
The girl giggled and blushed, and she and Izuku exchanged a little wave as they were both pulled away by their respective supervisors.
Friday afternoon came much too fast, and Izuku packed up his new costume -- complete with eyeliner pencil and bottle of hair oil -- with a general sense of satisfaction. He could have trailed after Mic for much longer, but he felt like he'd learned a lot in a short time, and he was content with what he'd accomplished. He knew the road ahead would be tough, but he felt prepared to take on the next big challenge.
"I'm guessing I can't go back on the train," Izuku speculated once he was back in his UA uniform, his costume case in hand.
"Too much risk," Mic agreed, shuffling papers around on his desk. "Your ride should be here soon though."
"You're not taking me home?" Izuku asked, perplexed.
"Not this time," Mic said, tapping a stack of papers into a neat pile and straightening to give Izuku an apologetic look. "I've got some work to finish up here, internship stuff, and then I have to drop of your costume at the school, so you'll be going home with-"
Suddenly the door to Mic's office burst open, and Izuku whirled around to see who had come to pick him up.
"I am here!" cried All Might, posing dramatically in the doorway. "To see you safely home, young Midoriya!"
"All Might!" Izuku exclaimed, then frowned. "Wait, but if you have time left today, shouldn't you-"
All Might gave a loud, hacking cough, spraying blood from his mouth and collapsing in on himself until his body was nearly skeletal. Izuku yelped, and All Might cleared his throat a few times and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I'm pretty much out of time today," All Might said. "I doubt I have the energy for even another little entrance like that."
"You call that a little entrance?" Mic said dubiously. All Might smiled sheepishly, and Izuku turned to Mic.
"Thank you Sensei," he said, bowing shallowly. "I'm glad I was able to spend my internship here with you, and grateful for everything you taught me."
"No probs 'lil listener," Mic said, and ruffled Izuku's hair. "Just remember what we had our little jam session about, ya dig?"
Izuku nodded. "I remember, and I'll keep at it, just like you said." "Rockin'," Mic said, giving him a wide, full on Present Mic smile.
The ride back to Musutafu was mostly uneventful. All Might's car was rather small and unobtrusive, so they didn't attract a lot of attention as they made their way out of the city. Once they were on the highway however, All Might gave Izuku a nervous glance and began clearing his throat pointedly.
"I owe you an apology, young man," All Might said, once he was certain he had Izuku's attention. Izuku blinked up at him, confused. "For what?"
"Well, I suppose it's more Mirai who owes you an apology," All Might admitted, "but it is my secret and my legacy, so I should take more ownership of it I suppose. Sir Nighteye was very concerned about his student, my successor young Toogata. As such he interrupted your internship, had you come in and deal with our problems when you should have been focusing on yourself. You seem to have come a long way in such a short few days, and I hate to think how much farther you might have gone if he hadn't-"
"It's OK," Izuku cut him off hurriedly, "honest! I understand that Toogata needed my help, it was important that he stop hurting himself!"
"But not so important that it couldn't have waited until you were back at school," All Might picked up the thread Izuku had tried to tie off. "If anything Mirai was more broken up at young Toogata not being able to compete in the sports festival than any more practical concerns. He's eager for young Toogata to take my places as the Symbol of Peace, and for that he thinks . . . well, he thinks he knows best."
"He can see the future," Izuku pointed out.
"But not all of it," All Might insisted. "Not every facet and every consequence. If you ask me he can get a little overly focused on his conclusions. It's why we agreed to go our separate ways some years ago."
Izuku didn't say anything for a moment. That had to be a painful thing for All Might to admit, the interruption of a friendship that had been deep enough for him to share his secret. He tried to think of something comforting to say, but all he could think to do was draw a comparison to his friendship with Bakugou, and that seemed a little unfair under the circumstances.
"Don't worry too much about it," All Might concluded after a moment, giving Izuku a strained smile that stretched his skeletal face. "Just try not to let Nighteye take up too much of your time, alright?"
"Sure," Izuku agreed, nodding obediently.
They reached Izuku's apartment just before sunset, when the sky was already beginning to turn gold. Thankfully there were no reporters there, apparently the press hadn't caught wind of where he lived yet, or perhaps they had the decency not to bother him at home. Izuku would have gone straight up himself, but All Might insisted on coming up with him, to explain the situation and the
precautions the school was taking to his mother.
Izuku had called his mother from the hospital, of course. He'd called her once just after he woke up, to warn her that he would be on the news and assure her that he was fine, no matter what the reporters said. She'd called him again in the evening, apparently having been glued to the TV during the coverage of Stain's capture, and he'd spent a good chunk of the time between Recovery Girl's departure and going to bed comforting her and promising that he would give her all the details when he got home on Friday.
He hadn't known that he would have an escort with him when he came home though, so he hadn't warned her he wouldn't be alone, and as soon as the door came open she was throwing herself into his arms and sobbing into his shirt.
"Izuku!" she cried, hands balled in his uniform jacket. "My baby! Thank goodness you're home! I was so worried!"
"Mom," Izuku began tentatively, but then All Might cleared his throat.
Izuku's mother immediately looked up, then squeaked and released her son when she saw he wasn't alone.
"I'm so sorry," she said hurriedly, dabbing at her eyes with the apron she was wearing. "Are you a police officer? Thank you for bringing Izuku home."
Izuku look at her puzzled for a moment, then suddenly realized All Might was still in his skinny form. She, of course, wouldn't recognize him as the Number One Hero. He opened his mouth to explain, then realized that probably wasn't his place and looked up at All Might instead.
"No ma'am," said All Might respectfully. "I work for UA, and I'm here to explain the precautions the school is going to take going forward."
"Of course," said Izuku's mother immediately, wiping her face and then stepping aside. "Please come in . . ."
"Toshinori Yagi," All Might said, dipping his head and then stepping inside.
Izuku's mother rushed ahead of her guest, putting the kettle on the stove and getting out one of the little snacks she kept in reserve for visitors. They were a little more suited to a younger guest -- she had been overjoyed to learn that Izuku had friends now, and was excited for them to eventually come over -- but put on a little plate the cake looked perfectly presentable.
They all sat at the dining room table, All Might on one side and Izuku and his mother on the other, as All Might explained the precautions UA would be taking. Izuku's mother nodded along, but her look of concern only eased a little bit, and was nowhere close to vanishing. Izuku knew his mother was a nervous person, but normally hearing from a school official would have eased her worries. As All Might finished talking, Izuku put a hand on his mother's arm.
"It's OK mom, really," Izuku told her. "It's not that big a deal."
"You were on the news Izuku," his mother said firmly. "That last time that happened was . . ."
She trailed off, and Izuku bowed his head. The last time a glimpse of his face had been on TV, it had been when he nearly died in the sludge villain incident.
"Ma'am," All Might said seriously, "I understand your concern. Let me personally assure you that
UA, myself included, will do everything in our power to protect your son."
"That's very kind of you Yagi-san," Izuku's mother said, giving a tired little smile. "I believe you, but a mother worries."
"I understand," All Might said, and stood up. "I'm sure you and young Izuku have much to discuss-"
"Oh no!" Izuku's mother said, standing also. "You haven't even touched your cake! You absolutely must stay for dinner!"
All Might opened his mouth, already making noises of denial, but at that moment a cough wracked his body and he wasn't able to cover his mouth fast enough to stop the spray of blood. Izuku's mother gave a little shriek and rushed around the table to his side, lifting the hem of her apron to dab at his mouth.
"Are you alright?!" she asked frantically, as All Might took hold of the cloth and gave a few shallow coughs into it. "You don't look well! Should I call-"
"No no!" All Might said, then coughed again. "Please, ma'am, it's merely a longstanding medical condition! I assure you I'm fine!"
Izuku's mother looked dubious, and she carefully adjusted her grip on the apron to wipe up the rest of the blood with a clean corner. She and All Might looked at each other, and then both of them paused. The pause seemed to go for a long time, both of them standing close together with the apron clutched between them, until Izuku found himself shuffling uncomfortably. He cleared his throat pointedly, and suddenly his mother snapped out of her trance and backed away from All Might.
"Please stay until you feel better, Yagi-san," Izuku's mother said. "Let me make dinner; I bought things for katsudon, it's Izuku's favorite, and I was planning to have leftovers so there's plenty of-"
"No no," All Might shook his head. "Part of my, uh, condition is that my stomach doesn't really . . . function. I'm on a special diet to deal with it, no solid food. Thank you though, that's very thoughtful."
Izuku's mother looked between All Might and Izuku despairingly. "Well," she said, "alright, if you really can't, but please sit a while longer until you've got your strength back."
All Might looked surprised, but sat back down at the table. Izuku's mother made him a second cup of tea, this one with her favorite licorice root blend for his throat, and got him a blanket from the living room to drape around his shoulders. Throughout this process All Might looked increasingly baffled by the treatment, but submitted gracefully to his host's fussing. When at long last he had finished his tea and gone twenty minutes without a cough, he stood up from the table and handed the blanket back to Izuku's mother, smiling gratefully.
"I appreciate your kindness ma'am," All Might said, once he was at the door putting on his shoes.
"Of course," Izuku's mother said. Once he had his shoes on she went to the door and opened it for him. "Thank you again, for bringing Izuku home, and for taking time out of your schedule to see him home in the future."
"My pleasure, Midoriya-san," All Might turned on the threshold and dipped his head to Izuku's mother.
There was another pause. The two adults looked at each other for what seemed to Izuku a very long time, with All Might standing half in and half out of the door. Izuku's mother seemed in no hurry to see him leave, and allowed him to linger for a moment, then two, and then more. After nearly a minute had passed with neither of them moving Izuku coughed slightly, and All Might blustered a moment before turning and scampering away toward the stairs. Izuku's mother shut the door behind him, then stared at the wood for another long moment.
"Is everything OK mom?" Izuku asked carefully.
"It's fine!" his mother said loudly, turning around with an almost frantic look on her face. "Please don't worry about me Izuku! Go get some rest!"
Mystified but relieved to be sent off, Izuku went to his room.
He went straight to his laptop and lay down in bed, the computer balanced on the edge of his ribcage. A quick search for 'Endeavor' pulled up a myriad of articles speculating on why the Number Two Hero had lied about taking down the Hero Killer, and Izuku began to skim them one by one. Some were making excuses, but others were asking questions, and a few were calling for a public apology from the Flame Hero. None of them said anything about a fraud charge yet.
Izuku aimed to change that.
A video was going viral on YouTube, an explanation of Stain's history and ideology, being taken down and re-uploaded over and over. Izuku gave it a watch, then did a search for what he was really looking for. As he suspected, the Stain video was drawing attention away from another video that had been uploaded at around the same time, which was probably the only reason why the site or the user hadn't been ordered to take it down yet.
It began with a few seconds of adjustment, the person obviously filming with a cellphone camera and struggling to get the picture they wanted centered in the frame. From the very first moment though, it was obvious that the subject was Endeavor, and after a few moments of bringing things into focus it was clear he was at the front desk in the hospital. The audio was overlaid with the sound of the recorder's breathing, but what Endeavor was saying was still audible.
"I'm at the hospital in Hosu," he said into his phone. "I only need to assess the damage to my masterpiece, and then-"
Izuku grinned as Endeavor turned, showing his enraged face to the camera but clearly not aware he was being recorded.
"WHAT?!" Endeavor's fiery beard and the flames on his costume flared up, and the person taking the video gasped. "What do you mean they contradicted my story? The police captain promised me that-"
Izuku didn't wait for Endeavor to stomp out of the frame, he downloaded the video to his laptop immediately and then dug out an old flash drive to burn it onto. Then he copied the link and opened a few new tabs, logging onto his account on several hero-related forums, message boards and discussion groups. Most of them were going on about Stain, but there were a few people discussing Endeavor, and Izuku noted with satisfaction that his outburst at the sports festival was also being brought up again.
As he prepared to upload the video he considered what kind of comment to add, how many sentences he could get away with before his soapbox became obvious. Then he was struck with sudden inspiration.
uh, masterpiece? he put as the caption to the video, and hit post. *
It was late when Hizashi got back to UA. He only meant to drop off Izuku's hero costume, but as he was putting it away he remembered something he needed from the office. He was tired, both physically and emotionally, and just wanted to start his weekend. He was just considering whether he should have a soak in the bath after washing the gel out of his hair or leave that until tomorrow when he flicked the light on in the office and found Shouta seated at his desk.
"About time you got back," Shouta said, turning in his chair to face the door. His computer was on, but the screen was dimmed and not giving off much light.
Hizashi blinked. "Have you been sitting here in the dark? For how long?"
"Long enough to know you've been stalling," Shouta said.
"I don't know what you mean," Hizashi lied. "I just got in from my agency-"
"Where you stayed later than normal," Shouta finished for him, "so that you wouldn't be here until late at night, when you figured everyone would have gone home."
Hizashi frowned, then gave a weary sigh. "I'm tired," he said, walking over to his desk and beginning to riffle through papers, looking for what he'd come in for. "I . . . I don't want to deal with this right now. Everyone is fine, it all worked out, so we have time to-"
"You misunderstand," Shouta said, and stood up from his chair. He walked over to stand beside Hizashi, but Hizashi didn't look up at him just yet. "In the hospital you were avoiding me, so I didn't get the chance to apologize."
Hizashi froze. For a second he stared at his desk, not sure he'd heard correctly. Then he turned and looked at Shouta, eyes wide. Shouta lifted a hand to grip the back of his neck, looking off to one side.
"I should have been more vigilant," he said carefully. "We all should have, but I was the one who approved the internship, so the blame is on me."
"I don't blame you Shouta," Hizashi said quickly, then sighed. "I just worry about how much you expect from your students. They're hero students, but they're also kids. Kids need margins for error, the chance to make mistakes, room to grow in whatever way works best for them."
"I know that," Shouta said impatiently, but Hizashi had the feeling he was just saying it to avoid an argument. "I just don't want you to think that, while we were in Hosu, I was trying to pick a fight with you."
"I know you weren't," Hizashi said reassuringly, then looked at the floor. "And . . . I'm sorry too. What I said was uncalled for, and you didn't deserve it, and-"
"Hizashi," Shouta interrupted, leaning forward to catch Hizashi's eye.
For a moment Shouta held Hizashi's gaze, but didn't say any more. He was looking at Hizashi with uncharacteristic emotion, but Hizashi couldn't identify the look in his eyes. Something about the space between them seemed charged, and Hizashi found himself holding his breath. Words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't think he could speak his mind in a way Shouta would understand.
Shouta was so close. Hizashi leaned in closer. They were breathing the same air now, almost near enough to . . .
Abruptly Shouta jerked back, and as Hizashi watched the shutters slammed closed behind his eyes. He swerved around Hizashi with a gruff "Goodnight," and then he was out the door. Hizashi heard his footfalls in the hallway, running without a care for whether or not he was heard.
The air seemed colder, now that he was gone.
Hizashi bowed his head and took a deep, steadying breath. Then he turned back to his desk and selected the papers he wanted with fumbling fingers. He walked out of the office, turning off the light as he went, and began the familiar journey home.