Izuku was fairly confident that Nezu had already made his decision about whether or not the second handicap constituted cheating. Recovery Girl had called him after Satou and Kirishima's exam, and he hadn't told her to shut them down. It was just the kind of clever twist Izuku thought Nezu would get a kick out of. The Principal favored planning and trap laying, maximizing one's odds before ever stepping out onto the field. This was just the kind of preparation he would admire. It was likely he'd even known about it beforehand, and decided to let it go because he enjoyed the idea.
Some of the others, however, weren't so sure.
"Do you really think we won't get in trouble for using the buttons?" Uraraka asked anxiously, jostling Izuku's arm as they milled around with a few other students near the front of the room.
"It'll be fine!" Izuku told her, smiling his best reassuring smile. "Recovery Girl already spoke to Nezu about it, if he didn't stop us during the exams then I'm pretty sure it'll be OK!"
"What if they factor it into grading though?" Jirou speculated with a furrowed brow. "A lot of teams only used the button once or twice; what if they dock points for using it too many times?"
She glanced over at Kouda, who nodded energetically in agreement. They had used the button the most out of all the teams, except Uraraka and Aoyama's. Doubtlessly realizing the same thing, Uraraka whined pitifully and pressed her forehead to the wall.
"I'm pretty sure the exam is just pass/fail," Hitoshi said dismissively, putting a hand on Jirou's shoulder. "Unless you were really lazy and just let your partner do all the work I'm sure they'll follow the rules they set out. If you were able to escape or cuff the teacher, you pass."
"I'm sure they'll see all the other cool stuff we did and grade us on that, at least," Kaminari insisted, but his voice was a little strained.
"Unless they decide to discount everything after we used the buttons," Satou moaned. Kaminari's expression twisted until it looked like he'd tasted something sour.
"Guys it'll be OK!" Izuku assured everyone. "I'm almost positive that-"
He was cut off when the door slid open and banged loudly against the end of its track.
"Once the bell rings you should be in your seats!" Aizawa called as they all dove for their desks. He walked slowly to the podium, and by the time he was standing in front of the class the scrape of chairs had given way to dead silence. "Morning."
"Good morning Aizawa-sensei," the class chorused.
"In what is, I assure you, an unusual twist," Aizawa began, "everyone in class A and class B passed their final exams."
A general sigh of relief swept the room.
"However," Aizawa continued, then paused as though to let the nearly audible tension rise, "there is the small matter of the additional handicap that was built into the weights the teachers were wearing."
Izuku kept his eyes front and his expression neutral. He knew several members of the class were looking at him for signs of unease, and he resolved to stay strong. He would not be the weak link that made everyone worry. Aizawa's eyes swept the room like a hawk searching for prey. Izuku looked back unwaveringly, refusing to give in to fear.
"A meeting was held to determine whether that additional handicap could be considered cheating," Aizawa told them. "It was created at the behest of the students, the result of deliberate conspiring between the hero and support courses, and was included in the exercise without the knowledge of the teachers. Principal Nezu thought long and hard on these factors and came to a conclusion."
Aizawa narrowed his eyes, and Izuku heard a few squeaks and whimpers of fear from the rest of the class.
"The buttons which gave your opponents an electric shock-" Aizawa said, voice rising as though in agitation or even anger.
Izuku felt himself tense involuntarily as though to take a hit.
"-was a stroke of tactical genius and a wonderfully clever preparation strategy!" Aizawa concluded, a maniacal grin splitting his face as he spoke.
The noises of relief that came up from the class were much louder than a sigh this time, and Izuku glanced over to see several students leaning back in their chairs or with heads down on their desks. He himself exhaled shakily, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders and back. A surprising amount of relief was sweeping through him as well. Izuku had been confident that Nezu would see the buttons the same way he did, but it certainly was nice to know for sure.
"Seriously?" demanded Ashido after a moment. "We're not in trouble?"
"You didn't do anything wrong," Aizawa told her curtly. "Gathering information about your opponent and laying traps to use later are valuable skills for any hero to have, which makes them a useful thing to test you on. Working closely with support staff to build custom gear suited to a unique situation is a valid preparation strategy, and could also be considered an extension of the exercise. We were interested in observing how you each worked together and approached the task at hand, so working together as a class and in conjunction with the support course certainly isn't something you're going to lose points for. You also successfully concealed your movements from the teachers and Principal Nezu, so if anything you deserve extra points for being such a unified front."
"Wait, really?" Izuku piped up before he could think about it. "Principal Nezu didn't know?"
"Apparently when he found out he thought it was hilarious," Aizawa said dryly, then narrowed his eyes at Izuku. "I wouldn't let it go to your head though, Midoriya. No one is under the impression that anyone but you could have masterminded this scheme, and I assure you not every authority
figure in hero society will find your tactics so amusing."
"I helped," Hitoshi said, in what Izuku considered an impressive display of loyalty.
"Me too," Shouto added staunchly. "We were all there when the decision was made with Hatsume."
"Be that as it may," Aizawa pressed, "you can't make something from nothing. Strategy is no good without ingrained skill and raw power to put behind it, which is why it's so important that all of you get to go to camp. The summer training camp will focus on building your strength, so those who leaned too heavily on their advantage need those lessons the most."
"Then shouldn't it be a good thing that Izuku got everyone through the exam?" Shouto asked innocently.
"The point," Aizawa growled, "is that you were lucky."
"Yes sir," Izuku said sheepishly. Ahead of him Hitoshi nodded, and he could only assume Shouto
did the same.
The last day of class before summer break began was fairly uneventful and, after the drama of the big reveal that morning, very boring. At lunch Hatsume was ecstatic that her inventions had caused such a stir, and told them how Power Loader had given her a similar speech about working with the demands of clients but watching her back when it came to opposing industry authorities. By the end of the day Izuku was glad to see the exhausted relief of the class had been replaced by eager excitement for the training camp which would start in just over a week.
"This is gonna be great!" Ojiro said once class had been dismissed and they were all looking over the information pamphlets Aizawa had passed out. "I'm so glad we're all going together!"
"Looks like we'll be at the training camp a full week," Iida said, holding his pamphlet so that Uraraka could also see.
"I've gotta find a bigger suitcase," Izuku realized, looking over his own pamphlet.
"Are we going to need bathing suits?" Hitoshi asked, leaning in to peer over Izuku's left shoulder.
"What kinds of shoes do we need?" Shouto wondered, crowding in on Izuku's right.
"I don't think I have any outdoorsy shoes," Kaminari mused, making Izuku look up at him. "Guess I need to buy some stuff."
"Guys, since we're off tomorrow and we finally finished exams, I have the best idea!" Hagakure said, her beaming smile evident even though they couldn't see it. "Why doesn't class 1A go shopping together!"
"Hey, yeah!" Kaminari jumped on the idea immediately. "We've never hung out as a class before!"
Uraraka nodded in eager agreement, and several other students chimed in with equal enthusiasm. As they all began to make plans, Izuku turned so he could face Hitoshi and Shouto.
"Can you both come?" he asked, looking from one to the other. "Shouto, I know you visit your
mom on days off, and Hitoshi you said your mom wasn't happy about the training camp taking up so much of your summer break."
"I already said I'd go tell her how my exams went," Shouto said apologetically.
"My mom will be OK with me going out with friends," Hitoshi said. "I can come, but maybe we can work out some other stuff to do later in the week."
"Yeah! Uraraka-" Izuku waved to get her attention, then smiled when she looked over at him. "Do you think we could do more than one class event? If some of us are going to be buying shoes we'll want the week to break them in, but maybe we could all go to the beach or something."
"We can break in those bathing suits too," Kaminari said excitedly, making Ashido laugh but Jirou groan.
Once they had all settled their plans for multiple class outings, people began to head back to the dorm to pick up their things and go home. Most of them had opted to let training slide for the day, but Izuku and Hitoshi were both spooked by what Aizawa had said and wanted to get their normal training in before leaving campus. Shouto would be staying at the dorm over break, so he didn't have anything better to do than help them train.
There was just one thing Izuku had to do first.
"Set up at our normal gym," Izuku told his friends. "I'll catch up with you."
"Does Nezu want to talk with you?" Shouto wondered, turning to follow Izuku when he would have headed off alone.
"No," Izuku shook his head. "I just want to talk to Mic-sensei about something."
"Oh yeah," Hitoshi looked at the ceiling contemplatively. "I figured he'd be the first to congratulate you, but I didn't see him after the exam."
"I just wanna make sure he's not mad at me," Izuku said, twiddling his fingers nervously. "I know it's silly but-"
"We'll wait for you," Hitoshi said firmly, and Izuku gave him a grateful smile.
Izuku wasn't sure what he'd do if there was someone else in the teachers' office, but thankfully he found Mic there alone. For a moment Izuku lingered in the doorway, unsure whether he wanted to interrupt, hesitant to draw attention to himself. He was perfectly willing to admit that he was there for selfish reasons. He wanted reassurance, to know that Mic wasn't angry at him for setting him up to get shocked so many times. It seemed unbearably childish, especially when no on else in class had needed a pat on the head, but he just wanted to be sure that nothing had changed.
"You coming in 'lil listener?" Mic asked, after a few moments of Izuku standing still and quiet just outside.
"Sorry," Izuku said reflexively, stepping into the office and shutting the door behind himself.
Mic was standing over his desk, sifting through papers and sorting them into piles, but he stopped and looked up when Izuku stood a few feet away from him. He turned, leaning casually on the edge of his desk, and gave Izuku a puzzled look. Izuku knew he had stopped rather uncharacteristically far back.
"Something the matter?" Mic wondered with a theatrical raise of his eyebrow.
"I just-" Izuku shifted from foot to foot, staring at the floor, unsure of how to put it. "I just wanted to say . . . I'm sorry."
"For what?" Mic asked, and Izuku looked up to find him blinking in wide-eyed confusion. He honestly didn't know what Izuku could mean.
"For the exam," Izuku explained uncertainly. "I mean, the buttons were my idea, and I know Jirou and Kouda used theirs a lot, and you got shocked and then covered in bugs and-"
Izuku was cut off when Mic let out a loud, almost quirk-enhanced laugh. "Do you really think I'm so lame that I'd let a few bugs beat me?"
Now it was Izuku's turn to blink in confusion. "But, Jirou and Kouda passed their exam."
"The teachers left a way for the students to win," Mic told him, smiling indulgently down at him. "Otherwise you never would have stood a chance. Did you really think you and Shinsou had beaten All Might fair and square?"
"It wasn't exactly fair," Izuku protested, feeling simultaneously better and worse. "I thought we'd at least caught him off guard?"
"That I'll give you," Mic said, still laughing slightly. "He went way too hard on you for my taste, but he certainly didn't see your plan coming. As for Jirou and Kouda, we figured they'd use bugs to beat me. That's why Aizawa stuck me out in the middle of woods."
"The button though!" Izuku insisted, trying to steer back to his original point. "That was my fault!" "I know," said Mic, grinning. "I'm proud of you."
Izuku gaped at him. He had been hoping, in a distant sort of way, that Mic would be proud of him for passing his final. The idea that Mic would be proud of him for the secret weapon had never crossed his mind. He had barely gotten away with it! Aizawa was angry about it! But Mic was going to be . . . proud?
Mic burst out laughing again. "What's with that face?" he cackled. "You look like a fish! I tell you that you did a good job and you're just gonna gawk at me?"
"Thank you!" Izuku said, bowing hurriedly. "That means a lot! I just . . . why?"
"Because you got the class through their exams!" Hizashi said loudly, gesturing emphatically with both arms spread wide. "You got both classes through their exams! How could you think I wouldn't be proud?"
"Aizawa-sensei didn't seem to like it," Izuku admitted shyly.
"Aizawa was the first person to tell Nezu that if he didn't let your little stunt fly he was walking out," Mic informed him, sounding deeply unimpressed by this account of Aizawa's mood. "I was second. I think Snipe was the only naysayer in the room, and he was only worried that it might inflate your egos too much. I see that wasn't a problem though, if you're here thinking I'd be mad at your for helping out your class."
"I just wanted to make sure we were OK," Izuku said, caught between earnest and hesitant. He wanted Mic to know how much it meant to him to have this answer.
"We're OK," Mic assured him gently. "I'm proud of your, not just for passing your exam, but for dragging everyone else up with you. When you first came up with this scheme you could have kept it to yourself and your friends, or even just your class. You didn't just want to succeed yourself though, you wanted to help everyone. The way you always think of others is something I admire about you, Izuku."
Izuku felt the prickle of tears long before he could name any of the other emotions swirling in his chest, and he lifted a hand to cover his mouth as they began to fall. Everything inside him seemed to want to escape, pushing at the cage of his bones and the borders of his skin. Before he could say anything though, Mic's expression changed to one of startled regret.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately, "I just, 'lil listener, I shouldn't have-"
"Thank you!" Izuku burst out, the words seeming to explode out from the writhing mass of feelings in his chest. "I don't, I can't . . . no one's ever believed in me like that!"
Mic sighed, a wobbly smile spreading across his face, and came forward to kneel before Izuku. He took Izuku's face in his hands, wiping at his cheeks with callous thumbs, and peered at Izuku over the rims of his sunglasses.
"People believe in you," he said, softly but firmly. "Not just me. Maybe that wasn't the case before UA, but things are different now. You've worked hard to impress us and you've done it. Be proud of yourself."
Izuku shook his head. "No one's ever thought as much of me as you do."
"I think I can name a few people," Mic said, grinning. "For what it's worth though, for whatever it means for you, I'm proud of you."
Izuku sniffled, then nodded. "Thank you."
Hitoshi hadn't been to the mall since his last growth spurt, which had been his last year of middle school. He'd bulked up considerably since then, but he tended to prefer loose clothes anyway, so most of his old stuff still fit. Clothing that was loose on him now would be better, but he hadn't wanted to shop for it, especially not at the mall. The Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall was just as loud and crowded as he remembered, and packed to the gills with stores that catered mostly to passing trends.
He was pretty much alone in his dislike though, and as soon as they arrived the others began admiring their surroundings. Ashido had to loudy exclaim over how cool and hip the shops were, and was echoed by nearly all the girls, and strangely Kirishima as well. Conversations broke out about what everyone was going to shop for, and Hitoshi was gratified to hear Yaoyorozu and Jirou were going to look for their stuff together. Even Izuku began to mutter up a storm about the clothes on display.
"You're going to scare the children," Tokoyami said fondly as Izuku turned his head this way and that to look at everything. "Stop."
"Oh come on," Hitoshi huffed when Izuku gave Tokoyami a horrified look. "It's not that bad." "You don't think you're a little biased on that?" Tokoyami wondered.
Hitoshi blinked, confused. "What does that mean?"
Tokoyami refused to elaborate.
Unsurprisingly the whole class being out together did draw some attention, and a few of them were recognized from the sports festival. Izuku had pulled an unseasonable hat down over his distinctive hair, and went largely unnoticed, but Hitoshi and the others had to endure shouts of praise and encouragement from various passersby. One of them even tried to get a picture with Hitoshi, but Yaoyorozu thankfully rescued him by tactfully informing the fanboy that the school wouldn't like it, and he courteously backed off.
"Thanks," Hitoshi said quietly once the fanboy had retreated.
"No problem," Yaoyorozu waved off his appreciation with a bright smile. "Today should be for hanging out with our crushes, right?"
"Don't say that so loud!" Hitoshi admonished, looking over at where Izuku was examining a display of warm weather jackets, much too close at hand.
Yaoyorozu gave a silvery laugh but didn't comment any further.
Eventually the class decided that they would break off and look around separately, and meet back up in the afternoon. Almost immediately everyone took off in different directions, clumping together in groups of two and three. Yaoyorozu dragged Jirou off toward the escalator and threw a wink over her shoulder at Hitoshi. In what seemed to be no time at all, Hitoshi and Izuku were left alone.
"Looks like it's just you and me left," Izuku realized, looking after the last of their classmates.
"Yeah," said Hitoshi, and was surprised to find his voice sounding nervous. Why was he nervous? Being alone with Izuku wasn't weird. Sure it was mostly with Shouto these days, but it had been him and Izuku alone first.
"So, what are you gonna shop for?" Izuku asked cheerfully, holding onto the straps of his yellow backpack. "I wanna find a few heavier wrist weights so I can up my training, and maybe a pocket knife since I heard they're useful while camping."
"I was gonna find swim trunks," Hitoshi told him. "Do you have some?"
"I have some old ones," Izuku said, frowning in contemplation. "I got them in middle school though, so they might be tight by now."
The image of Izuku in abnormally tight swim trunks, bare chested and dripping, rose unbidden to Hitoshi's mind. Immediately he felt his face heat up, and he turned away to hide his blush. Now wasn't the time!
Today's a day for hanging out with our crushes, Yaoyorozu had said.
You don't think you're a little biased on that? Tokoyami had asked.
Maybe the two of them have strong feelings for each other, his mother had speculated.
Was he really that obvious? Could everyone around him really see it? Could Izuku and Shouto see it? Why didn't they say something? Could it be they were just happy with the way things were, and didn't want them to go any farther? Were they un happy with with way things were, and didn't want to be subjected to any more of it?
Suddenly the closeness of the crowd was oppressive, and the heat -- both from the sun and his blushing face -- was unbearable. He found the idea of Izuku seeing him like this, panicky and uncomposed, completely unacceptable. So, he did the only thing he could think to do.
"I think I'll go shop by myself actually!" he called, and took off into the crowd. *
Izuku watched Hitoshi go with a sense of deep unease. He didn't think he'd said anything weird, but Hitoshi had run off like something was chasing him. Hitoshi was an introvert, even more so than Izuku could sometimes be, so he did like having time alone. Maybe he was just spending more time alone now since they would be in such close quarters at camp.
Or maybe he's finally getting tired of you, Izuku thought fearfully.
"Oh, it's someone from UA, nice!" said a voice, and abruptly an arm was being slung around
Izuku's neck from somewhere in his blindspot. "I want an autograph!"
"Oh, hi!" Izuku chirped, smiling reflexively as he tried to duck out from under the arm as quickly as he could, and not having much success. "Nice to meet you!"
"You're the one who won the obstacle race at the sports festival!" the man said right next to Izuku's ear. His voice was raspy, and a little bit familiar, but Izuku couldn't place it.
"Always nice to meet a fan," Izuku said, trying to sound playful but probably coming across more scared. "Do you mind-"
"You're that intern that was there when the Hero Killer got taken down too, aren't you?" the man asked, and his grip seemed to tighten around Izuku's neck. "You're practically famous!"
"You sure do know a lot," Izuku said, starting to feel genuinely uneasy. He scanned the crowd for one of his friends, but they had all gone their separate ways. He was alone.
"What can I say, I'm just a big fan of yours," rasped the voice in Izuku's ear, and there was something off about it. Izuku wanted to get out from under him so he could look this stranger in the eye. "I can't believe I'm running into you again."
Izuku froze.
"It makes me think that it might not be a coincidence," the man went on, lower and more serious, and Izuku began to strain to see the face of the person who had hold of him out of the corner of his eye.
It couldn't be. They were in a public place. A crowded shopping mall. There were people everywhere.
"No, no," a hand came up as the man spoke, wrapping around Izuku's throat. "This feels like it's destiny."
Izuku's heart pounded like it was trying to burst out of his chest. His skin prickled with cold sweat. The grip on his neck was loose, but the palm and fingers were plastered to his skin, ready to tighten at a moment's notice.
"Oh right," chuckled the man, "from your point of view we haven't met since the attack on UA."
Izuku turned his head slowly, mind struggling against the obvious conclusion even as his eyes caught site of his captor. Sallow skin, cracked lips and wild red eyes peering from beneath a black hood. It couldn't be . . .
But it was.
"Why don't we spend some time catching up, Izuku Midoriya?" said Tomura Shigaraki. "It's you," Izuku said, in a hushed whisper. "The leader from the USJ attack."
"Act natural," Shigaraki instructed. "Don't make a scene. I'm just an old friend who ran into you at the mall. Calm down and wipe that look off your face. I think we should have a conversation is all. A friendly chat."
Izuku forced himself to think. Shigaraki was the leader of the League of Villains, working under All for One. That meant that, if their leader had taken the bait, he was under the impression that he had cornered All Might's successor. Izuku had to keep up that illusion. He had to pretend he was in control.
"Oh, and of course if you try to run or fight me in any way . . . well, it'll be fast." Izuku felt a tapping on the skin of his throat, as though one of the fingers was lifted away, but could be put down at any moment. "As soon as all five of my fingers touch your neck, your throat will be the first thing that disintegrates. In a matter of seconds you'll be nothing more than dust and powdered bone."
"What makes you think I can't grab your finger and break it before you get the chance?" Izuku asked, forcing more strength into his voice than he really felt. Amazingly, it didn't quaver.
"Think you can?" Shigaraki wondered, tapping a little faster. "Bet your life?"
"Bet your freedom?" Izuku shot back.
"Bet their lives?" Shigaraki raised a hand, pointing into the nearest knot of mall patrons. "Just look at these sheep! Any one of them could use their quirks and start a massacre whenever they wanted, and yet they're all here, smiling. They think laws and rules will protect them, because they assume everyone has their same morals. They're convinced nothing bad could ever happen to them. If you fail I could kill twenty, thirty, maybe even more before a Pro showed up and managed to stop me!"
Izuku took a shaky breath and relaxed his shoulders. In the end, he didn't have the speed to stop Shigaraki. He stood absolutely no chance if the villains was really going to call his bluff, and he couldn't let so many people be hurt because of his posturing. He swallowed his anger and fear, and lowered his eyes.
"I get it," Izuku said with difficulty. "Let's talk."
Shigaraki chuckled cruelly, his arm tightening around Izuku's neck. "This is nice. A real moment. Let's go grab a seat and get comfortable why don't we?"
There were large squares of benches scattered throughout the ground floor of the mall, and Shigaraki steered Izuku to one of these. They sat down, Shigaraki carefully never releasing his grip on Izuku's throat. He forced them to sit close together, so he could maintain control, but Izuku also knew that they would look like two good friends, or maybe family members to anyone passing by. He kept his expression carefully neutral, not daring to glare or look frightened. He couldn't risk someone walking up to them and noticing something amiss.
Izuku knew he couldn't rely on someone coming to save him this time. He had done this to himself, going through with Nighteye's plan, and then not telling anyone else about it. It had been long enough since the Hero Killer incident that his mother hadn't even batted an eye about him going out with friends, and no one knew about the other danger he'd put himself in. This was what he'd signed up for, to face Shigaraki and the League of Villains so Mirio didn't have to yet. He would have to use his wits to get himself out of this.
Once they were situated, Shigaraki began to speak.
"When it comes down to it, I hate basically everything," Shigaraki began. "But the Hero Killer pisses me off the most right now, and you're a close second."
"Isn't he one of your guys?" Izuku asked. He didn't have to ask why he was pissing Shigaraki off.
"Not technically, but that's what the media made it look like," Shigaraki replied dismissively. "I'm a little more interested in you right now though. I want to know why you're so special."
"Special?" Izuku repeated. Shouldn't that have been obvious?
"My master is weirdly fixated on you," Shigaraki told him. "He keeps talking about watching you closely, seeing what you grow into. He wants me to study you, even though I was doing that anyway, and talks about you like you're going to be around for a long time, even though I've told him I'd destroy you. He even has a special name for you, calls you 'number nine,' whatever that means."
"You don't know what it means?" Izuku wondered. That didn't add up.
"How can I when he won't tell me?!" Shigaraki demanded, his grip on Izuku's throat tightening slightly, enough to threaten but not cause discomfort. "He won't tell me anything about you or why you're so important, just keeps telling me to pay attention!"
Izuku looked down at their shoes, mind whirring a mile a minute. If Shigaraki's 'master' was All for One, which it sounded like he was, then he should have told Shigaraki that Izuku was the successor. But he hadn't. Shigaraki didn't know, didn't even seem to have the clues required to guess. Instead All for One was plotting openly, but not keeping Shigaraki truly in the loop. How little had he been told? Why was All for One keeping secrets? Could Izuku use that?
"Maybe he wants you to study me because I'm smart," Izuku suggested carefully. "I did beat you without throwing a single punch last time we met."
"Is it just because you lead the counterattack at the USJ?" Shigaraki asked angrily. "Is that all it is?"
"Maybe your master saw something in me the last time he and I spoke," Izuku speculated, leaving the details deliberately vague.
"Why are you talking to my master?" Shigaraki wanted to know, voice full of angry impatience. "How? Why are you worth talking to behind my back?"
Izuku continued to look down, not trusting himself to keep a blank expression while his brain was in overdrive. Instead he studied the scuffed sole of his bright red sneakers and thought his next words through carefully.
"Why don't you tell me why you hate the Hero Killer so much?" Izuku invited. "Maybe I can shed some light, and then you'll understand."
Shigaraki paused, his finger tapping an agitated rhythm against Izuku's throat. When he spoke his tone was bitter and annoyed, like a petulant child admitting that they'd stolen the missing candy.
"Everyone is obsessed with that stupid Hero Killer," he huffed. "The attack on UA, the Nomus I released on Hosu, he upstaged all of it! No one's even giving me a second thought. Why is that? Despite what he claims to believe, all he really did was try to get rid of whatever things he didn't like."
He leaned in closer, whispering in Izuku's ear. "What do you think the difference is between us, number nine?"
"The difference?" Izuku echoed, still looking at their shoes as he tried to bring his thoughts into order. "That's easy. The Hero Killer was trying to do something good. I don't agree with his methods, they were wrong through and through, but he didn't destroy things just because it sounded fun. He acted with a purpose, to do something he believed was worth doing. Your goals begin and end with destruction, with no resolution in sight. The difference is that he held true to his beliefs and convictions."
Izuku glanced up, wondering what effect this speech would have on Shigaraki, but immediately looked back down. Shigaraki looked furious, eyes blazing beneath the shadow of his hood, seeming to burn the look into Izuku's very soul. His grip on Izuku's throat, which had loosened somewhat, tightened again until he had to take slow, deep breaths to get enough air. His vision was distorted, like words written in marker and then touched before they were dry, and he concentrated on the four red shoes below him to center himself.
"Is that what it's all about?" Shigaraki hissed. "Conviction? What is conviction anyway? Why don't I have it? It can't be that important, if master chose me even though I have none."
"Why were you chosen, Shigaraki?" Izuku wondered. There was something he was missing here, something he could use to get Shigaraki to crack. He just had to figure out what it was. "Do you know?"
"Because I'm like him," Shigaraki explained impatiently. "Because I'm the one destined to be his successor. He chose me because I'm the only one who can do it."
Izuku stared downward, trying to figure it out. There was something right in front of him that he wasn't seeing, something important. He knew he could get Shigaraki to run, but he need to know how. Shigaraki's foot tapped impatiently, his sneaker the same bright red as Izuku's. The same red shoes. . .
"Oh I see," Izuku said, the words tumbling unexpectedly from his mouth. "You were quirkless." Shigaraki was silent for a moment, then said, "What? No I'm not. I have a quirk."
"Tell me Shigaraki," Izuku asked, the answer laid out before him like a map to victory, "where did you get those shoes?"
"Kurogiri got them for me," Shigaraki replied. "Why?"
"They're the same red as mine," Izuku told him, nudging Shigaraki's right foot with his left. "The same brand. A brand that caters specifically to quirkless people, because our feet are shaped differently than someone with a quirk."
"What are you babbling about?" Shigaraki snapped. "How does-"
"Do they fit well?" Izuku cut him off. "Were they new when you got them? They're expensive, you don't buy them by accident. They were purchased specifically for you, because you needed this brand."
"What does this have to do with anything?" Shigaraki growled, but there was an edge of uncertainty to his tone now.
"That's why you were chosen," Izuku said, and his voice sounded stronger than it had since they started talking. "You didn't have a quirk. Your master gave you a cruel quirk, to make sure that every time you reached out for someone you would hurt them, and no one would be able to help you. He did it to make sure you would only rely on him."
"My master wouldn't do a thing like that," Shigaraki insisted. "If he gave me a quirk, which I'm not saying he did, it was to make me strong. My master is the only one who's ever been kind to me!"
"Then why is he keeping secrets from you?" Izuku questioned. "Why won't he tell you why I'm special?"
"What do you know anyway?" Shigaraki challenged. "Why should I listen to you? Who are you in all this?"
"Me?" Izuku said, and now he lifted his eyes from their shoes to Shigaraki's face, looking back into his eyes with all the fire he could summon up. "I'm number nine. Why don't you go ask your master what that means?"
Shigaraki looked down at Izuku with genuine fear in his eyes. His hand tightened on Izuku's throat, then suddenly it released. Izuku was pushed by the neck off to one side, his head forced down toward the bench, and by the time he'd righted himself Shigaraki was up and out of his seat. Izuku coughed a few times, eyes watering with pain, but when he looked up Shigaraki had disappeared into the crowd.