Day Two of the summer training camp began at 5am, but only for Class A.
"Be sure not to wake anyone from Class B!" Iida stage whispered as he shook Izuku awake, with a little more volume to his words and a little more force to his shaking than was strictly necessary. "They're not supposed to be up until six!"
Izuku blinked his eyes open and looked around the room. Already Iida had awoken a few other students -- mostly the steadier ones like Kouda and Satou -- and these were busy nudging, jostling and in some cases prying the others out of sleep, carefully stepping over the Class B students as they did so. Izuku nodded to Iida and turned immediately to Shouto on his other side. Izuku, Shouto and Hitoshi had slept in a line, with Shouto in the middle and the other two cozy in the altered temperature from his quirk. Hitoshi, who was sweltering in the summer heat, had slept in the coolness of Shouto's right side, and Izuku, who was nearly always cold at night even in warm weather, had slept in the warmth of Shouto's left side.
As he'd drifted off to sleep last night he'd had the thought that this was a particularly ideal sleeping arrangement, but the idea made him blush in the early morning light.
Izuku placed a hand on Shouto's left shoulder, but before he could apply any sort of pressure Shouto's right hand shot out and grabbed Izuku's wrist. Biting cold enveloped his hand and arm, patchy frost creeping over his skin, and Izuku stifled a shriek. He looked back at Shouto to see his eyes wide and staring, but clearly not awake enough to register what was in front of him.
"Shouto, it's me!" Izuku said quietly, pulling gently against Shouto's icy grip. "You're fine! Nothing's happening!"
Shouto blinked a few times, eyes finally coming into focus, then widening still further when they recognized Izuku.
"Sorry," Shouto said, releasing him and sitting up on his pallet. "I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine," Izuku said, shaking his head at Shouto's distressed expression. "You're not used to getting woken up like that."
"A hero should always be ready," Shouto said bitterly, not looking at Izuku as he used his left hand to begin defrosting Izuku's forearm. "Even in sleep. It was part of training."
"That's bullshit," Izuku said firmly. "You deserve to sleep." Shouto's lips twitched into a smile.
Hitoshi and the rest of the Class A boys woke with little fuss. For a moment Izuku thought he might have seen Monoma from Class B looking at him, but when he looked back the boy's eyes
were closed. They dressed in their gym clothes, then joined up with the girls for a cold and silent breakfast, few of them awake enough to converse with each other. At half past five Aizawa beckoned them outside, where they gathered into a sleepy, rumpled knot and watched as he turned to address the students.
"Good morning, class," Aizawa said, startling Izuku with his volume after the hushed whispers they had used indoors. "Today we begin a training camp that will increase your strength. Our goal is to increased your skills exponentially so that each of you earns a provisional license. This will allow you to face the dangers that continue to fester in the darkness. Proceed carefully."
Aizawa pulled something out of his pocket, and Izuku was surprised to see that it was a softball, equipped with a sensor to measure how far it traveled when thrown.
"Look alive Satou," he said, throwing the ball so that the student he had called on was able to catch it with only minimal fumbling. "Try throwing that for me."
"Like in the fitness test!" Sero realized as Satou looked down at the ball in his hand like he wasn't entirely sure what it was for.
"That's right," Aizawa said, and Izuku definitely heard a note of deceptive politeness in his voice. "When we started school your record was 378.9 meters. Let's see if you've improved."
"Fitness test?" Hitoshi repeated groggily as Satou walked forward, pulling a cube of sugar out of his pocket and crunching it.
"You weren't here," Shouto said, looking at Hitoshi and Izuku. "On the first day of school Aizawa had us do standard athletic tests using our quirks to see what our powers were capable of at our current strength."
"Oh I get it!" Ashido chirped. "We're checking our progress!" "C'mon, get it Satou!" Kirishima cheered as Satou drew back his hand.
Satou's muscles bulged as his quirk powered up, and he threw the ball with a roar of effort. It sailed through the air, high over their heads, and came down somewhere in the distant forest. The class all turned to Aizawa, eager for the results.
"That was 380 meters," Aizawa said, holding up a little device to show the reading from the sensor. "Even."
"That's it?" Sero wondered as a few of the others began to mutter among themselves. "Kinda disappointing."
Aizawa placed the sensor device in his pocket. "You've had a single semester at UA," he said meaningfully, "and due to your various experiences all of you have definitely improved. But those improvements have mostly been limited to mental prowess and technical skill, with a slight increase in stamina thrown in along the way. Your quirks really haven't grown that much stronger, not on a fundamental level. That's why we're now going to focus on improving your powers."
Aizawa grinned, and Izuku felt a chill down his spine.
"This'll be so hard you feel like you're dying," Aizawa warned cheerfully. "Let's hope you all survive."
Aizawa then led his trembling, terrified class deeper into the woods, until they came to a large area
that had been cleared of trees. The terrain was rather absurdly varied, with wide flat areas as well as several smallish peaks and cliffs dotted with caves, like a microcosm of the larger mountain range. The work of Pixie-Bob's quirk no doubt. There were also a few of what Izuku could only describe as 'stations,' individual places set up with unique materials. There was an oil drum full of water with clear space around it, a table set up with a large quantity of sweets, and what looked like a giant hamster ball poised at the top of an incline.
The Wild Wild Pussycats were also there, all four of them this time, and Izuku did his best to contain his excitement at seeing Tiger and Ragdoll for the first time. He was almost certain he'd be working with Ragdoll today, as her quirk allowed her to spot people's weaknesses and would be excellent for testing his analysis of the class. There was also the possibility he'd be working with Mandalay, to assess what each student needed to improve on most and give suggestions, but he supposed they could probably switch off handling him while the other helped the rest of the students.
"We've created a specialized training for each of you," Aizawa explained once the two additional Pussycats had introduced themselves. "There are a few students working in pairs, but mostly you'll be training independently, working to improve each individual quirk."
"As you can see I've created the ideal training ground for every student!" Pixie-Bob said, equal parts excited and smug.
"I'll be keeping track of you while you work!" Ragdoll informed them cheerfully. "And I'll be able to give each of you advice via Telepath!" Mandalay continued. "I'm here to beat you guys to a pulp," Tiger said menacingly.
Izuku was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet now, both tiredness and trepidation forgotten. It was clear that Ragdoll and Mandalay would be working together to monitor and assist the other students, and he couldn't wait to help out. He had always wondered exactly how Ragdoll's quirk Search actually worked, and how it made her aware of a person's weaknesses. It would be very interesting to-
"Hey mumble monster," Hitoshi whispered fondly, nudging Izuku with his elbow. "Pay attention." "Sorry," Izuku said with a grin, still not quite able to contain his excitement.
"Tokoyami, Kouda, Sero, Jirou and Ashido!" Pixie-Bob called. "Come with me, I'll get you set up with your exercises!"
"Uraraka, Todoroki, Kaminari, Yaoyorozu and Satou!" Ragdoll cried, jumping and waving both her arms in the air. "You guys have got some equipment to use, so I'll tell you what's yours and how you'll be using it!"
"Kirishima, Ojiro, Hagakure and Shouji," Mandalay beckoned with one gloved hand. "You guys will be working in teams of two, so I'll show you which areas have been designated for you to use."
"The rest of you with me," Aizawa crooked a finger at the remaining students and turned to lead them farther into the clearing. "Let's get started."
"Sensei!" Izuku said, raising a hand as the other student began to move off. "You didn't tell me where to go! Am I working with Mandalay or Ragdoll first?"
"Neither," Aizawa said. He took out Izuku's force lance, which he had confiscated before sending the students to their bunks for the night, and extended it to staff length before throwing at him sideways. "You're with Tiger."
Izuku nearly fumbled the catch in his surprise, letting the force lance hit him in the chest. "Tiger? But he's a big brawler. Shouldn't I be with one of the two with mental quirks?"
Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "No," he said shortly. "Tiger will be working with the students who need to enhance their physical strength. He's your drill sergeant today, so you'd better not get on his bad side by slacking off."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tiger staring at him with a predator's intensity, and turned more fully to Aizawa.
"But," Izuku hesitated, not sure if he should voice his concerns. "Shouldn't I be working on my analysis?"
Aizawa turned, giving Izuku his full attention. "No," he repeated, firm but not displeased. "Like I told you before, strategy isn't worth anything if you lack the resources to put it into practice. You need skill, strength, speed and reflexes in order to get your plans in motion. You can't build good technique if you don't have the tools."
"But everyone's focusing on their quirks," Izuku protested. "They're concentrating on improving what makes them special. My special skill is analysis, helping to make sure everyone makes the most of their powers, so shouldn't I be working on that?"
"I see," Aizawa said, and there was that edge of polite condescension again that Izuku didn't like. "You think it would be better if you were to help your classmates."
"Yeah!" Izuku said, relaxing a little now that Aizawa understood.
In the next second though, Aizawa's quirk activated, his hair rising around his head and his capture weapon unfolding around him like some animal giving a threat display. Izuku took an automatic step back, and yelped when the end of the weapon shot out toward him. Rather than capturing him however, the cloth wrapped around his force lance, tugging it out of his slack grip and returning it to Aizawa's outstretched hand.
Aizawa blinked, his quirk deactivating and his capture weapon resettling around his shoulders. "You can't be a hero if you only have one trick," he said. "You've made it your personal duty to push the entire class, at times the entire year, forward. However, you must be aware that you won't always have them to worry about, or to help you."
"Well yeah," Izuku admitted nervously.
"And when you don't have them to help you," Aizawa went on, "you'll need to rely on your own strength and skill to carry you through a fight."
"Right," Izuku agreed, not without some reluctance. He knew it was true, in an intellectual way, but it didn't feel nearly as relevant as his own arguments.
Aizawa sighed. "Look at it this way," he said. "You've been putting a lot of effort into helping the other students in your class, right? You've basically been doing the work of a support course analyst on top of hero coursework. But you're training to be a hero, and that requires your complete devotion. This camp is about improving the individual ability of every student. For one week, you're going to focus solely on your own improvement. Got it?"
Izuku nodded. He saw the wisdom in what Aizawa was saying, but he couldn't help but feel cold at the idea of not doing any analysis the entire training camp. Still, he wasn't about to argue any further. He thought back to the alleyway with Stain, and how quickly he'd been pinned fighting alone. If Shouto and Hitoshi hadn't shown up, he would have been killed, and Mic and Iida along with him. He knew he could make the most of whatever quirks his allies could offer him. Right now, he needed to make sure he could win a fight on his own merits.
"Yes sir," he said, straightening his back.
Aizawa gave a little exhale through his nose that might have been a laugh or a noise of approval, and threw Izuku's force lance to him again. This time Izuku caught it without trouble, then nodded decisively and turned to Tiger.
"I'm ready!" he said.
"You'd better be!" Tiger said, beckoning him to little clearing off the main area sheltered by a copse of trees. "You'll be alternating between strength training and staff drills, while the Class B students focus solely on strength training. We'd better get some drills in now, before they arrive, so show me some hustle!"
"Right!" Izuku shouted, and ran forward.
Hitoshi and the other students followed Aizawa as he walked them from one area to another, leaving a student behind at each destination. Once Aoyama had been given his marching orders however, Hitoshi found himself once more alone with his teacher. It wasn't so unusual a thing -- he and Aizawa trained privately at least once a week -- but it felt suddenly ominous to be the last one without an activity.
He had been surprised to realize that Mandalay hadn't called his name when she explained that she'd be coaching the students working in teams of two. Hitoshi couldn't exactly use his quirk by himself; he needed someone to use it on, and barring a student it would have to be a teacher. He'd never successfully caught Aizawa with Brainwashing, though there had been a few close calls, and somehow the idea of doing his normal training all day for a week didn't sit right with him. Everyone else was doing special exercises to push beyond their limits. He didn't want to be the one person who couldn't be Plus Ultra.
"What am I going to be doing?" he asked when Aizawa set off silently back across the training ground, apparently ignoring the single student trailing behind him.
"Concentrating on where you're weakest," Aizawa said, without looking at him. "Casting out your mind repeatedly, particularly without catching someone, is the biggest limiting factor on your quirk. I want to see the number of times you can do so without injuring yourself increase to the point where it wouldn't be relevant in a fight of average duration, about three to five minutes."
So Aizawa did intend to have him on normal training, measuring the number of times he could use his quirk by the length of the battle he would be fighting simultaneously. Hitoshi couldn't help but be disappointed. As such he had a little less of a filter than he normally would when talking to Aizawa.
"I don't want to do normal training," he insisted. "I want to push my quirk to its limits. Everyone else is giving their all, I can't be left behind!"
"You already are behind," Aizawa said tonelessly.
Hitoshi felt sick. Was he really that bad at using his quirk? He did fine in normal hero class exercises, albeit he definitely had to be strategic about when and how he tried to use his quirk. He knew that, as a transfer student, he'd started off less advanced than the others. He didn't think the gap was that wide though.
"However," Aizawa went on, making Hitoshi looked up, "the reason you're not as good with your quirk is because you haven't had as much chance to use it. I'd wager that before UA you didn't have many people who would let you use it on them voluntarily, and using it on someone without their consent would have been considered . . . impolite."
"That's one word for it," Hitoshi grumbled.
"As a result, you've developed a cautious nature when it comes to using your quirk on others," Aizawa explained. "I have it on good authority that Midoriya and Todoroki have given you blanket permission to use your quirk on them, but from what I can see you rarely take advantage of that, am I correct?"
"Yes sir," Hitoshi confessed. "I don't practice as often as I should, but-" "It's a good thing," Aizawa interrupted.
Hitoshi blinked, surprised. "It is?"
"Yes," Aizawa told him. "As heroes, we have a license to use our quirks however we see fit. An essential part of a hero's abilities is the good judgement to know when to use our quirks, and when not to use them. You in particular will have to walk that line very carefully. By being respectful of your situation before UA, you've developed that good judgement. It's a little unrefined, but it's one thing I don't have to teach you."
"But, wouldn't it have been better to develop my quirk?" Hitoshi wondered.
"Not necessarily," Aizawa replied. "It would be more difficult to instill caution and self-restraint than to build your strength, so it was smarter for you to do what you did. I'd say with the choices you've made, you've done well."
Hitoshi had to look at the ground again, this time to hide his expression. Aizawa wasn't looking at him, but he felt like he must be glowing with pride. It wouldn't do to show that level of confidence to Aizawa, who delighted in knocking students down a peg.
"However," Aizawa, predictably, was never one to let praise go untempered. "You are behind the rest of your classmates in terms experience and strength of your quirk. You can catch up, but you'll need to work harder than anyone."
"Yes sir!" Hitoshi said, determined not to let himself feel any apprehension.
They reached the opening to the training area, where the edge of the clearing met the path back to the camp building. Peering around Aizawa he could see that Class B were emerging from the forest, still blinking sand from their eyes despite the extra hour of sleep they'd gotten. Hitoshi couldn't begrudge them that. He hadn't exactly been training for the last hour.
"Monoma," barked Vlad King, at the head of the group. "You're with Shinsou."
"From Class A?!" Monoma recoiled in obvious disgust. "Can't I work with someone from our
class?"
"You'll get the chance to train in a few different ways," Vlad replied, "but you're weak when it comes to mastering mental quirks, and Shinsou has a particularly complicated one. It requires a lot of mental strength, so it'll be a good way to flex your abilities."
Monoma looked sour, but didn't protest again.
Aizawa led them back across the field. As they passed by Yaoyorozu's station Hitoshi fell behind a moment to ask her for another handkerchief, which she made without bothering to stop either training or eating. When he caught up to his group, Aizawa brought them to a corner where Pixie- Bob had set up a kind of station for them, with a block of packed earth like a table and two smaller blocks like seats. He and Monoma sat down across from each other, each eyeing the other with some trepidation.
"For today concentrate on catching each other, not maintaining the connection," Aizawa instructed. "We don't have time for you to test how long you can hold it for, so just catch and release for now. Try to do it as many times in a minute as you can."
Hitoshi and Monoma both nodded.
"Here," said Hitoshi when Aizawa walked away, holding out the clean handkerchief to Monoma. "You'll want this."
"Is that supposed to be some kind of insult?" Monoma glared disdainfully at the piece of cloth. "Think I'll be crying to Vlad-sensei that your quirk is too hard to master?"
"No," Hitoshi said, with forced patience, "you'll want it because if you do this right your nose will start to bleed."
"Don't you need it then?" Monoma asked, still with a general air of aloofness.
Hitoshi pulled his own handkerchief out of his pocket. He had washed it many times since the sports festival, but the bloodstains were still obvious from how much he'd used it during training. Monoma sniffed, then reached out a hand and grabbed Hitoshi's outstretched fingers. Reflexively Hitoshi jerked his hand back, but Monoma released him easily, coming away with the handkerchief in his grip.
"So, how does this quirk work anyway?" Monoma asked, looking dubiously down at the white cloth in his hand.
"Shouldn't you be trying to figure that out?" Hitoshi asked, casting out his mind as he spoke.
"Don't-" Monoma began, then his face went slack and his eyes went blank white as Hitoshi felt his control click into place.
"That should give you a clue," Hitoshi said, and released him.
"So you have to say something, and then the victim says something back," Monoma realized, frowning. "But that doesn't make sense."
"Doesn't it?" Hitoshi cast out his mind again.
"No it-" Monoma paused, doll-like, then glared when he was released. "Stop that!"
"We are supposed to be training," Hitoshi pointed out.
Monoma pointedly said nothing. Hitoshi rolled his eyes, but he hadn't tried to brainwash Monoma that time. He waited a few moments until Monoma apparently found it safe to continue the conversation.
"Is the trigger you saying something or the victim saying something?" he asked testily. "I can't tell which."
"It's both," Hitoshi said. Wasn't that obvious? "It's a two-part trigger."
"It's either one or the other," Monoma snapped. "It can't be both."
"That's why mine is complicated," Hitoshi shrugged. "I can't control someone just because they say something to me, I have to say something first and then get a response. It only works if both things happen."
"But then, what do you do?" Monoma asked, looking perfectly perplexed.
Hitoshi thought for a moment, wondering how to explain. He'd never had to think about using his quirk before, any more than he'd had to consider how to move an arm or blink his eyes. It was just a thing he did, a muscle like any other. In this case though, the muscle was in his brain, and he couldn't just point to it. That made him wonder about Izuku's ability to break out of Brainwashing, and what kind of muscle he was using in his brain, but he forced his mind back to the present moment.
"It's like fishing," Hitoshi explained. "I ask a question or say something that requires a reply, and that's how I cast my mind out, like a net or a hook. It catches when the person responds, and then I can take control of them."
"What happens if they don't reply?" Monoma wondered. "If the line doesn't catch?"
"It hurt when I was little," Hitoshi said, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "Not any more though, not in a long time."
"I guess," Monoma said, then place his hands on the table and looked at Hitoshi with intense focus. "Say something!"
"Something," Hitoshi replied.
Nothing happened. Monoma made a frustrated noise and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You need to be more subtle than that," Hitoshi said, concentrating on what it felt like to cast out his mind. The words were the bait, but the hook was his quirk. What did it feel like to use it? Writing an essay? Recalling a memory?
"I don't-" Monoma began, then went still.
Hitoshi let the silence sit for a minute, trying to concentrate. Holding Monoma in his grasp felt the same as casting out his mind to try and catch him. It was using the same mental muscle. What was it? He reached into his memory for a feeling that was similar, and came back with the nights he'd lain awake and dreamed of being a hero. The hunger he felt when he got to dinner after training. The way it felt when Izuku and Shouto got lost in their bad memories, wanting to make them smile again.
"I think it's desire," Hitoshi said, releasing Monoma. "You have to want it, or at least something you'll get out of it."
"You think I don't want it?" Monoma demanded.
"I think you're an ass," Hitoshi said, casting out his mind.
"I-" Monoma began, and this time when his face went slack Hitoshi held him a moment just for the satisfaction.
"You must have been popular in middle school, huh?" Monoma quipped sarcastically when Hitoshi let him go.
"I wasn't, actually," Hitoshi told him blandly, not really concerned with what Monoma thought of him. "Occupational hazard of having a villain's quirk. Not that I would expect you to understand."
"Right," Monoma rolled his eyes, "because everyone likes watching someone else use their quirk! No one ever finds that creepy or weird or villainous!"
Hitoshi paused. "People said you had a villain's quirk?"
"They said it wouldn't work for a hero," Monoma recalled, looking off to one side. "Most of them thought it sounded more like a ghost story. That's why my hero name is Phantom Thief. I figured I'd own it, you know?"
Hitoshi hadn't thought about it that way. He supposed his quirk wasn't the only one people had made fun of in elementary and middle school. The handful of kids with mutation quirks hadn't had an easy time of it either, just for how they looked. He supposed even a useful quirk could become known as creepy, if one or two popular kids didn't like it.
"Yeah, I get that," Hitoshi admitted. "Even if I didn't use my quirk at all people were still afraid of it. Sometimes I would overhear the girls saying they had nightmares about it."
"That must've hurt," Monoma speculated quietly. Hitoshi looked up to find the other boy meeting his gaze with sad gray eyes. "People probably didn't want to talk to you at all."
"Not really," Hitoshi said. "Just the bad kids who only wanted to talk about how I could use it to get away with stuff. I never liked their suggestions."
"I hung out with the kids with weak quirks mostly," Monoma confessed. "Or mutation quirks. They used to like it when I talked about how much better we were than the bullies."
"That strategy doesn't work as well here though does it?" Hitoshi ventured. He thought he was beginning to see the problem.
"Bullies are bullies," Monoma said harshly.
"But Class A aren't bullies," Hitoshi countered. "Maybe Bakugou and Mineta, but they're gone. And Class B don't need you to defend them."
"Well how else am I supposed to make friends?" Monoma snapped.
"You could try helping your classmates improve," Hitoshi offered. "Izuku knows a lot about quirks, he's studied them for a long time, so he has a lot of suggestions for the class. They like him a lot because he's helped them get better. By borrowing someone else's quirk, you can get a new
perspective on it, since you're not familiar with what they think are its limitations. I bet if you tried you could figure out all kinds of things they don't know about their quirks."
Monoma stared at him a moment, then looked pensive. "You really think that would work?"
"Sure-" Hitoshi began, but almost immediately his voice died in his throat as a thick, smothering fog overtook his mind. It felt like being cocooned in cotton, the warm summer air and the hard packed earth beneath him muted somehow. The noises of the other students training were distant and quiet. He looked at Monoma as though seeing him from underwater, the view distorted by the rippling of the surface.
Is this what it's like to be brainwashed? he wondered. Everything seems so far away.
Just as suddenly as it began, the feeling ended, and Hitoshi found himself dumped abruptly back into the real world. He gasped, feeling goosebumps rise along his arms as the sunlight, the breeze, the packed earth and Monoma all came back into stark relief. It all seemed startlingly vivid, like switching from black and white to full color.
"I did it," Monoma remarked, as though just as surprised as Hitoshi.
"I didn't even realize you'd been trying," Hitoshi said, still struggling to get his bearings.
"I was trying the whole time," Monoma told him. "I couldn't figure out what you meant by wanting it though."
"What was different that time?" Hitoshi wondered. Monoma looked off to one side. "I wanted to believe you."
Hitoshi studied him for a moment. Monoma had seemed to him very like Bakugou, determined to believe he was the best even if it meant tearing others down. Coming from a place of pride and arrogance, that behavior was inexcusable. Coming from a place of pain and heartache, well . . . he thought he could understand Monoma a little better now.
Monoma shifted, rubbing his upper arms with both hands. "My quirk timed out," he announced, still not looking at Hitoshi.
Hitoshi held up a hand, palm pointed towards Monoma as though for a high-five. "Ready to try again?"
Monoma looked from Hitoshi to his outstretched hand and back again in surprise. Seeing his uncertainty made it easy to smile, like watching Hatsume get adorably frustrated when she couldn't articulate the problem she was having with her latest invention, or Dark Shadow hide behind Tokoyami when he wasn't sure he wanted to come out and talk to people. Monoma blinked at Hitoshi's expression, then let a small smile of his own sneak onto his face.
"Ready," he said, and smacked his palm against Hitoshi's. *
The revelation that the Wild Wild Pussycats intended for the students to cook dinner was met with exhausted resignation. Izuku got the impression that some of his classmates would have liked to protest, but they were all much too tired to argue. Instead they set about wearily reading instructions, dividing up tasks and using their overworked quirks as much as possible to lighten the load. Iida and Yaoyorozu were the loudest proponents of the exercise, insisting they should all
learn something from the experience, but most of the students approached the cooking as something to be gotten over with rather than savored for its educational value.
Shouto got popular quickly for his ability to light the cooking fires without fussing with matches, and Izuku saw him smiling in satisfaction as the students at each individual station gushed with gratitude. Izuku knew what it must mean to him to be acknowledged as useful with his fire for some purpose other than destruction, and mouthed a quiet 'thank you' at Yaoyorozu when she noticed it too and set Shouto to keeping the fires going. Hitoshi had spent all day with Monoma, and far from grumpy at their forced proximity the two of them seemed to be deeply satisfied with their work. They had even come up with a new way to use Hitoshi's quirk, and demonstrated on a particularly exhausted Tetsutetsu that being brainwashed for a few minutes at a time had the same effect as an especially restful catnap. After that the other students had all lined up for their turns, and in this way knife injuries were kept to a minimum.
Izuku was quickly judged to be the most adept with a knife, barring only Uraraka, so he was set the particularly tricky task of peeling potatoes without a peeler. There were three large dishes of potatoes, so even with two of them working it was pretty slow going. Various people who hadn't been assigned a designated task would occasionally come by with fresh water to wash the peeled potatoes in, and take the finished ones away to another table for cutting.
"How was your training?" Uraraka asked after they'd sat in companionable silence for some time.
"Great," Izuku said automatically, still concentrating on the potato in his hand. "I think I've got the staff drills pretty much down at this point, and by the end of camp I should have pretty good muscle memory for them."
"Tiger seems pretty intimidating," Uraraka said sheepishly. "I'm glad I didn't get paired with him."
"It wasn't so bad when there were three of us," Izuku told her. "You got paired with Ragdoll, right? What was she like?"
"She's very . . ." Uraraka seemed to be struggling for a word. "Enthusiastic? She's got a lot of energy. I'm jealous."
"She's got a lot to teach us," Izuuku reminded her, trying to jiggle his knife under a tough piece of skin. "I'm sorry I didn't get to work with her."
"You're already so good at analysis though," Uraraka pointed out. "Even the Pros think you can work on their level. I understand why Aizawa made you do staff drills."
"Feels wrong though," Izuku said, sheering off an unnecessarily large hunk of potato flesh as he carved out a spot. "I should be helping people."
"You'll get the chance to help people when you're a Hero," Uraraka assured him. "This is just getting ready for that."
"Right," Izuku agreed, but his heart wasn't in it.
It was dark when they finished dinner, and they wolfed down their food by the light of strings of lanterns suspended over their heads. It wasn't the greatest curry in the world, but it would do for their empty stomachs. Most of the students ate without complaint, and those who had something to say didn't eat any slower.
The teachers and the Pussycats ate the curry too, apparently prepared to sacrifice a few decent meals to provide the best possible learning experience, but Izuku didn't see Kouta with them. He
looked around the outdoor dining area, but there was no sign of the camp's youngest resident. After a while Mandalay began calling for him, trying to make sure he got some food before it was all gone, and Izuku swallowed his last few bites and went inside to help look. It wasn't until he came back out, however, that he saw Kouta leaving the camp by a narrow path.
Izuku put together a plate of curry and and took off after the little boy. The path was overgrown, but it wasn't difficult to tell which way Kouta had gone, and eventually he came out onto bare ground once again. Kouta had found a ledge that led along the cliff face, up the side of the mountain, and Izuku found him sitting on a wide stretch of rock outside the mouth of a large cave. The little boy's stomach was growling audibly.
"I heard that," Izuku said playfully, making Kouta turn his head sharply. "You must be hungry. Here, I brought you some curry."
"No way!" Kouta shouted, leaping to his feet. "How'd you find this place?"
"Oh, sorry," Izuku said, pausing his approach as he realized Kouta was upset. It wouldn't do to be playful with him now. "I followed your footsteps. I thought you might want some dinner before it gets cold."
"Whatever," Kouta snapped. "I'm just fine. Get lost. I don't wanna hang out with you, so forget about my secret hideout!"
"This is a secret hideout?" Izuku looked around. He supposed the cave would have been a nice place to shelter from the elements, and on a clear night like tonight the ledge was the perfect spot to look at the stars.
"Hmph," Kouta scoffed, drawing Izuku's attention back to him. "Spending your entire life trying to improve your quirk. It's dumb! All you wanna do is show off! Get lost!"
"But I don't have a quirk," Izuku protested lightly.
Kouta blinked at him, wide-eyed. "Then, what were doing out there today? With the other losers? Why are you even here?"
"I'm here to train to be a hero," Izuku told him. "I promise I'm not trying to show off, I'm just trying to be the best hero I can be."
"Whatever," Kouta scoffed again and looked off to one side. "It's the same thing anyway."
Izuku paused a moment, wondering what to say next. He wasn't sure if he should even bring this up, but it had been eating at him since it had occurred to him, after his conversation with Mandalay. Maybe it would help him get through to Kouta, or maybe it would make things worse. In the end though, he had no better ideas.
"Hey, about your parents," he began tentatively. "I was wondering . . . were they the Water Hose Heroes? With the water quirks?"
Kouta's expression went from shocked to furious in no time at all. "Did Mandalay tell you?!" he demanded, stomping one foot forward as though to advance on Izuku with menace.
"No!" Izuku said hurriedly, wanting to put up his hands but still holding the plate of curry. "It's, um . . . well, sorry. But . . . I heard a little about what happened to them. And based on that information, I figured . . ."
He trailed off, not sure how to express his sympathy in a way a child would understand. He remembered the disdain of adults who thought a quirk was the only way to have worth, but worse were the ones who could only look on him with pity. Kouta didn't need his pity, any more than Izuku had needed his mother to apologize when he asked if he could be a hero. What Kouta needed was someone to understand where he was coming from.
"Mandalay didn't tell me who exactly your parents were," he said finally, "but she did tell me, or confirm for me, that you didn't like heroes. I'll admit I don't understand that. Your parents were heroes, weren't they?"
Kouta turned away, head bent, the brim of his hat hiding his face.
"Everyone here's so crazy," he said, voice bitter and angry. "Calling each other stupid names like 'hero' and 'villain' and then killing each other because of it. Always focusing on their quirks. If they hadn't been showing off they'd still be here. Idiots!"
Izuku took a moment to digest this response. Kouta, like so many, had zeroed in on quirks as the thing that made people heroes. It was a reasonable conclusion to come to, in today's society. Izuku remembered the news coverage of the incident, how much it had made of the versatility of the water quirks, now lost along with their users. He wondered if Mandalay was right, thinking that Kouta was upset about his parents being praised for their sacrifice. He wondered if perhaps Kouta even knew how they had died.
"You know Kouta, they weren't just showing off for the fun of it," Izuku said carefully. "In fact, they weren't showing off at all."
"Yes they were!" Kouta shot back, turning abruptly to face Izuku again. "That's what being a hero is, showing off your quirk so everyone can tell you how great you are! It's stupid, and only stupid people do it!"
"There are heroes who are like that," Izuku admitted. "But that wasn't the type of hero that Water Hose were. They were rescue heroes who saved many people who had been lost at sea, and protected people from storms and strong currents."
Izuku looked at the plate in his hands as he spoke, wanting to get his thoughts out before he gauged Kouta's reaction. This wasn't the kind of sentiment he could adjust on the fly.
"The reason they were so unprepared for the villain they had to face, was that they didn't show off their quirks by engaging in combat very often. They helped people, and protected those who were weaker than them to the very end."
Kouta was quiet, not protesting anything Izuku said. Izuku hoped that meant he was listening.
"I don't think they had any intention of leaving you behind, Kouta," Izuku concluded. "I think what they wanted to do was make the world safer, for you."
Izuku looked up, to find Kouta looking at the ground. His face was once again hidden by the brim of his hat, but his hands were limp at his side. Izuku only noticed now because throughout nearly the entire conversation, they had been balled into fists.
"Kouta?" Izuku asked cautiously.
"I wanna be alone," Kouta said, but he didn't sound angry anymore. He just sounded tired. "I'll . . . I'll eat. Just leave, OK?"
"OK," Izuku agreed, then set the plate of curry down on the ground.
He was reluctant to leave Kouta, knowing the kid must be feeling a lot right now, but he also knew that being told someone else knew better than you what you needed could be hard, especially when you were feeling a lot. He walked slowly back toward camp, waiting for Kouta to call him back, but all he heard was the scrape of little sneakers on rock, and then the clink of the spoon against the plate.
Izuku decided that was enough, and headed back to camp. *
Hizashi wore streetwear boots to the Nighteye Agency.
Costume boots, or other types of costume shoes, that were made especially for heroes made no sound on any type of floor. They were built for stealth, even if the hero in question wasn't, because sometimes even in broad daylight being able to sneak up on your enemy from behind was the difference between winning and losing. Hizashi's costume boots, or rather Present Mic's boots, were no different, and would have made no sound on the agency's polished floors. Normal boots that he'd bought in a shop, however, did not have that quality, and they click click clicked their way through the lobby and up to Nighteye's office door.
Nighteye must have known he had a visitor before Hizashi even got close, because no sooner had he knocked once on Nighteye's door than it was being thrown open. The occupant looked annoyed, even more annoyed than usual, and gave Hizashi a cursory and thoroughly unimpressed once over before speaking.
"Can I help you?" Nighteye snapped.
"You sure can!" Hizashi said loudly, stopping just short of using his quirk. Nighteye winced like he might have had a headache, which Hizashi wasn't making any better.
Good.
When Hizashi didn't immediately elaborate Nighteye prompted him again, this time with even
more impatience. "What can I help you with, Mic?"
"Mind if I come in?" Hizashi said, then leaned in theatrically and put a hand up to shield his
mouth. "It's a bit sensitive if you know what I mean."
Nighteye gave a deep, weary sigh and stood aside. Hizashi click click clicked into the office while Nighteye shut the door behind him, then stood before the desk and waited. Nighteye gave Hizashi a wide berth as he walked back into the office, then collapsed in his desk chair as though already exhausted by the conversation.
"Now," Nighteye said, beginning to examine some papers on his desk as though if he ignored Hizashi he would go away, "what is it, Mic?"
"I just wanted to have a chat with you about Izuku Midoriya," Mic said, with exaggerated nonchalance. "I know you and I had a few sour notes over where he'd do his internship, and I wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings!"
"There aren't," Nighteye said, in a tone that suggested that was a blatant lie. "If that's all-"
"Not remotely!" Mic said exuberant, and thought he might have seen Nighteye wince again. "I also
wanted to ask your help with something!"
"What, Mic?" Nighteye ground out through gritted teeth.
"Well you know that hero students do ten weeks of internships scattered throughout their last two years of school," Hizashi said, being sure to gesture wildly with his arms. "We're changing it to twelve for this year's class so they can make the most of getting drafted as first years! The students will be doing one more week of interning next semester, which means Midoriya will be back for a second tour at my agency!"
"What about it?" Nighteye grumbled.
"Midoriya's having a few second thoughts about his internship pick," Mic said, in tones of exaggerated distress. "He's thinking of power sliding over to your agency, and I need your help to convince him that's a flop, ya dig?"
As Hizashi had expected, Nighteye immediately perked up at this news. "Is he now?" he said, putting aside the papers he'd been pretending to focus on and giving Hizashi his full attention. "Has he already put in the paperwork?"
"I told him to hold off until he jams with you about it," Hizashi said, with an unmistakable pout. "I just want you to tell him you don't think that idea's a hit, and he'll drop it like a holiday number one through the January charts!"
"What makes you think it's such a bad idea?" Nighteye demanded. "I have a lot to teach him, and I'm sure he'd make an excellent student."
"My 'lil listener collects knowledge like a teen idol collects fans!" Mic assured him, baiting the hook as well as possible. "I just don't think you're a good fit for him! He needs to be topping the charts with his image by graduation, and for that he needs a mentor who's used to the spotlight!"
"Perhaps what he feels he needs to learn," Nighteye said harshly, "is subtlety."
Hizashi played dumb. "Not sure what you mean there!"
"If I can be frank, Mic," Nighteye said, with an odd mix of satisfaction and vitriol, "I don't think you're a very good influence on Midoriya. The type of heroics you engage in simply isn't what he was made for, and I don't think he has anything worthwhile to learn from you that he couldn't learn here. I'll be sure to encourage him to switch his internship agency, and when he's my intern I'll teach him about real hero operations."
"Hey hey hey!" Mic said, feigning discomfort but hiding the anger boiling in his belly. "Don't you think that's a bit outta tune? What experience can he get here that he can't get at my agency?"
"Underground heroics," Nighteye said immediately. "Investigation, intelligence gathering, infiltration operations-"
"You can't send a student undercover!" Mic protested. That was deliberate, as there actually were rules about students doing undercover work when their reputations were still new and fragile. If Nighteye admitted to this, he was on the hook for at least the intention to misuse a minor.
"If I deem the experience valuable I'll see to it that he gets it," Nighteye said. Not a confession, but not a denial either.
"You can't put a thing like that on the books!" Mic said, letting a little of his anger slip through at
last.
Nighteye scoffed. "Maybe you can't." Jackpot.
Hizashi buried his triumph under eight layers of bravado and looked at Nighteye with an expression of perfect mortification. Nighteye looked like he'd won the grand prize, lips stretched in a smile that was nothing short of savage. Hizashi sputtered and flailed for a few moments without saying anything, then harrumphed dramatically and stormed out of the office, making sure his shoes clicked loudly all the way out.
Then, once he was safely out of the office and ensconced in his car, he tapped the communicator in his ear.
"Did you get all that, Nezu-sensei?" he asked.
"Every word," replied Nezu's voice placidly. "Return to UA, now. I'll set things in motion from here."
Hizashi started his car and pulled out from the lot behind Nighteye's building with a sense of deep satisfaction. The recording itself wouldn't be admissible in court, but Nezu could now requisition all of the agency security tapes, and if that conversation wasn't among the recordings they had proof that Nighteye had tampered with evidence. He wouldn't be able to weasel out of this, All Might's sidekick or not.
It was possible they would have this issue sorted before Izuku even returned from camp.