The day after finals was technically a make-up day for students who missed exams which meant classes were really just time to hang out with friends before the break. That was why Izuku was rummaging through scrap metal, covered in grease, looking for spare parts. Hatsume tinkered in the corner of the lab while Power Loader worked on a support item for a student.

Izuku took the bucket of metal trimmings and broken parts, throwing them into the furnace to melt. He wiped the sweat from his brow annoyed that the other two seemed unfazed by the scorching heat. Even with the lab door open, a fan going, and his gym uniform unzipped to his waist leaving him in a thin undershirt, the room still felt like an oven.

"DEKU!"

Izuku froze, empty bucket clutched to his chest. Hatsume stepped away from her project, pushing her goggles up. "Prepare for impact!" she yelled, ducking beneath a table just at Bakugo burst through the open doors with an explosion.

Izuku frowned at the warped doors barely hanging onto the hinges. "That was really unnecessary."

"I'll say," Power Loader scoffed.

Bakugo ignored him, instead, he stormed up to Izuku. "You lying piece of shit!"

Izuku winced at the force Bakugo used to pin him to the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. "What the hell do you want?" he wheezed out, struggling to get his lungs to work again.

The hands Bakugo had balled up in Izuku's shirt tightened. "Why don't you want to join the Hero Course?"

"How do—" Izuku winced again as Bakugo's hands began to burn. "You're hurting me."

Surprisingly, Bakugo dropped him and took a step back. "You were quirkless and weak. What the hell happened!"

Izuku straightened his shirt frowning at the singe marks. "I was never quirkless. When I started school at Musutafu, I decided to hide it."

Bakugo stared at him as if he couldn't comprehend what Izuku was saying. The blonde gritted his teeth stepping forward again. Izuku glared at Bakugo, pinned between his forearm and the wall. "I don't really care why you lied, but if you don't join the Hero Course, I will make your life a living hell. Got it, Deku?"

Izuku gave a stiff nodded and watched as Bakugo left the lab, still fuming.

Across the room, Power Loader sneered, "I don't think his attitude will ever improve."

"Actually, I think that was him trying to be nice," Izuku said, pushing off the wall. "In his own way."

Power Loader just sighed, deciding to drop the subject. "On a happier note, what are you two doing for the break?"

Hatsume didn't miss a beat, even as Izuku stumbled. "I'm going with my parents to a conference in America!"

"That's exciting!" Power Loader then turned his attention to Izuku. "What about you, Midoriya?"

"Oh, I'm staying here in Musutafu. . .with my family," he answered, hoping his lie was believable.

"Nothing wrong with relaxing!"

Izuku turned back to the scrap metal. The pile was mostly sorted, but there wasn't enough time for him to melt down the rest. "Hatsume, we should go get cleaned up."

She groaned from her workstation. "It's a free day!" she complained, begrudgingly following him to the locker rooms. "Why do we still have to attend classes?"

"Paperwork, probably," Izuku muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. Hatsume scowled. "Paperwork is the shackles of innovation."

Izuku had half a mind to agree with her, but the threat of a paperwork destroying baby was too great. "Go shower, you stink like motor oil."

A hot shower had sounded lovely, but the tender burns on his chest, courtesy of Bakugo, protested forcing him to turn the temperature down to lukewarm. They were small, mostly just irritated, and would probably be healed in the morning.

Izuku scrubbed the grease and soot from his hair till the water around his feet was clear. He pulled on his clean uniform and headed to class. Music pounded in his ears as he walked through the halls drowning out the chatter of the other students.

Ahead of him, the crowd parted, letting three students through. Izuku frowned when he saw who it was.

"Hey, you're the guy!" the one with red hair said, pointing towards Izuku.

"I'm the guy," Izuku agreed, pulling out one earbud as he walked towards them. The other students in the hall had stopped to see the interaction. "You're holding up traffic."

Bakugo quirked a brow making a show of looking around. "Move," he ordered, jump-starting the other students into action. Izuku held his ground when Bakugo pushed past him, ignoring the apologies from the two friends.

Same old Bakugo.

Izuku crushed a can in his hand, tossing it to the side. It was getting late, the sky vibrant ripples of purple and orange with indigo at the edges. It would take him a half hour to get back to the dorms, but he couldn't get himself to move. Probably wouldn't make it back in time anyway.

The hum of the city was nice. No one talking, no thoughts, no people period. It wasn't often students were allowed off-campus. While Izuku enjoyed the break from classes, it always put him in a tough spot. Especially when Hatsume left town and couldn't open her window for him to sneak in.

He hated that she was right. Without her, he was lost.

Sighing, he leaned forward, surveying the city sprawling around him. He should've snuck back into the dorm's hours ago before the extra security measures were turned on. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. Wouldn't be the first time he was stuck on the streets for a few nights.

The memory brought a sharp pain through his chest. Freak.

For a moment he was honest with himself. He wanted to join the Hero Course and he didn't want to be all alone for the break. Only one of those was likely to be true.

Shoving the pained feeling away, Izuku stood, picked up his trash, and got off the building. He took the walk back to the dorms slow, at times activating his quirk when he approached a sketchy person or group.

The dorms of UA towered in the dark, only an emergency light on in the lobby of each building. He'd have to wait till morning and sneak in with any staff that showed up. He looked up and down the street considering. There was a park nearby, but it was getting pretty cold with the sundown.

"Midoriya?"

Izuku whipped over to the voice, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw Aizawa. "Uh, hi?"

"What are you doing at UA this late?"

"I could ask you the same question."

As if in answer a little girl with off-white curls peeked around Aizawa's legs, her eyes wide and curious. "I live near here." He narrowed his eyes. "Now explain."

"Just out for a walk," Izuku grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Aizawa and the little girl stopped a few feet away. "It's late, I'll give you a ride home."

"No! It's ok!" Izuku waved his hands frantically and took a step back.

"Midoriya, I was going to save this for later, but when the staff was looking through your paperwork, we realized your home address is just a P.O. box."

Izuku felt his throat tighten as he looked away unable to hide how guilty he was. "Um, yeah," he breathed, scratching at his chin. "Must be an error."

"Ok, then where do you live? Eri and I can walk you home." The little girl gasped at his side clearly excited by the idea.

Izuku gaped like a fish trying to come up with a lie. Aizawa watched looking mildly amused. "I will run," Izuku warned, feeling his panic make him take a step back.

Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "You will regret that, Midoriya."

"Why do you want to run away?" Eri asked, reaching forward to grasp Izuku's hand.

"I don't! I don't! I was just joking!" he swore knowing he lost the moment her ruby-colored eyes began pouting.

Aizawa smirked. "Great, you can join us for dinner."

"I don't want to intrude—" Izuku was saying till the small hand grasping his fingers tightened. He hesitantly looked down at Eri who held the most adorable frown.

"You have to come to dinner, Mi-Mid-Mi—"

"You can call me Izuku."

"Zuzu?"

Izuku was sure his heart would give out. "Yes, exactly."

"So, you'll come to dinner?" Eri asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Papa's making onigiri."

Izuku's stomach growled at the mention of food. The snacks from earlier hadn't been near enough. He hung his head, admitting defeat. "Onigiri sounds great." He let the little girl drag him back up the street happy to let her ramble about how she didn't like how her brother made tofu and how Mirio was finally visiting and her endless questions. Aizawa trailed behind them looking almost fond. He'd only ever known the teacher to be scowling or fighting sleep, to see him looking so normal was unsettling.

The house Eri dragged him up to was modern, part of a new development, and didn't seem to fit Aizawa at all. He didn't get long to ponder it though, as Eri threw open the front door and proudly announced, "This is Zuzu, he's staying for dinner, Papa!"

Izuku was halfway out of his shoes when two more heads peeked into the hallway. He froze. Silence stretched as he stared at Shinsou and Mic.

"Welcome!" Mic said, pulling him into the house against Izuku's protests.

Izuku was pushed into a chair at the table. He looked solely at his plate as he tried to sort through everything that happened.

"Hey."

Izuku looked up at Shinsou who took the seat across from him. "Uh, hi."

Shinsou rested his cheek in his hand. "You're Midoriya, right? You played the villain during the final?"

It felt like something was lodged in Izuku's throat. He dug his fingers into his jeans forcing a swallow. "Y-Yeah."

"How did you avoid my quirk?"

"Well, you are pretty popular," Izuku mumbled. "Plus, you wanted me to answer, so I. . .didn't." Shinsou nodded. "So, you can read our minds," he mused glancing away in thought.

"O-Only during training, I swear!"

The other boy quirked a brow, his purple eyes shifting back. "I assumed. Same with me." Izuku relaxed, realizing that Shinsou could've taken control at any moment.

"It's a cool quirk, must be a lot of strain, though."

"Yeah, I really overdid it." Izuku rubbed the back of his neck.

The doorbell rang and Eri hopped off the stool by the stove to get the door. Mirio, a recent graduate, appeared behind her.

Izuku felt so out of place in the cheerful atmosphere. They were all so clearly a family and he was intruding. He sat quietly at the table, focusing his energy on blocking out thoughts reaching out to him. Everyone was so curious or concerned about him. It wasn't something they could control, so there was no point in mentioning it. Usually, Izuku would just listen to music, but that would be rude.

Suddenly the tension evaporated, and he slumped forward, jarring the plates loudly. The others were still talking, but it was absurdly quieter. He looked past Shinsou meeting Aizawa's glowing eyes and floating hair. Izuku blanched, heat rushing up to his cheeks in a wave of embarrassment. Was he really so obvious?

A moment later the thoughts trickled back in. Izuku fussed with the plates till they were centered again struggling to push them out. It was those moments he missed Hatsume the most. Shinsou was frowning but didn't ask any questions.

Dinner was easier and Izuku managed to get through it without Aizawa stepping in again. He was happy to sit back and listen to the conversation. Every once in a while, someone would ask him a question, or Eri would tug on his sleeve and point to something across the table.

"Any plans for the break?" Mic asked, scooping more rice onto a plate for Eri.

Izuku swallowed hard and shook his head. "Not really," he rasped. Embarrassed, he took a drink of water. "W-We don't do much."

"We?" Aizawa questioned.

Izuku pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Not 'we' I-I mean, um. . ." he trailed off, staring down at his empty plate to avoid their stares. "It's just me. I mean I'm almost 18 so I don't have foster parents anymore."

Aizawa set his chopsticks down slowly. "You're supposed to have foster parents until you're 18." Izuku shrugged. "Yeah, but when UA opened the dorms, UA was made my guardian because I was

living there." A heavy silence settled over the table. "Something about budget cuts."

"The dorms opened almost two years ago," Shinsou muttered across the table. "Where have you been going during the breaks?"

Izuku looked down to hide his burning face. "Usually, I can stay with Hatsume if she isn't traveling with her family. . ." he trailed off again vaguely feeling like a child being scolded.

"This wasn't in your paperwork," Aizawa said, his voice tense. Mic shot him a worried look. "You said Hatsume was on vacation, where were you planning to stay tonight?"

Izuku paled, looking away from Aizawa's intimidating stare. "I-uhm—I was planning to stay. . .somewhere."

Aizawa's mouth pulled back in a sneer. "Somewhere?" "Like a hotel?" Izuku cursed his voice for betraying him. "You're lying."

Izuku locked eyes with Aizawa, jaw set hard. "Fine. I didn't know. I was trying to figure that out when you showed up." Izuku stuffed the remaining grains of rice into his mouth and set the chopsticks down. "It's too cold to sleep in the park," he muttered.

"You've slept in a park?" Mirio asked. "Dude, that's so dangerous!" His words said one thing but the twinkle in his eyes and the wide grin said something else.

"I want to sleep in a park!" Eri said, standing up in the chair on her knees.

Shinsou pointed an accusing chopstick at him. "Look at what you've done."

Eri let out an excited gasp and turned to Mirio. "Tami would do great shadow puppets!"

"He would!" Mirio nodded furiously, mirroring Eri's excited fists.

"No one is sleeping in a park!" Aizawa interrupted followed by several whines. "Especially you," he said, pointing at Izuku.

"I'm really ok, Mr. Aizawa—"

"You can't even get a hotel at 17," Shinsou pointed out boredly. "Just stay here. That's what they're gonna make you do anyway."

"But—" Izuku tried to argue but what cut off again by Shinsou. "Seriously, just accept defeat. They don't give up."

Izuku got the impression that Shinsou had personal experience. "Ok," he muttered, "but just until I figure something out."

Aizawa rolled his eyes, standing from the table with his plate. "For the break. No arguments." Izuku promptly closed his mouth, ignoring the snickers coming from the table.

"This will have to do for now. Until we figure out something more permanent." Aizawa took a seat on the couch with the bed mat laid out on the floor. He looked up at Izuku through half-closed eyes and gestured to the cushion beside him. "Sit, Midoriya."

Izuku did as told, pulling his legs up under him. "Thanks," he started, "for earlier."

"That's exactly why I want you to transfer."

"So, Principal Nezu hasn't decided yet?"

Aizawa sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "He said he'll make a decision soon."

"I know you're going to tell him about all of this," Izuku said carefully, looking down hard at the

coffee table. "As much as I love the Support Course, I know you're right. I need help. I've pushed off my quirk for so long that I don't know how to handle it." He shut his eyes not wanting to cry.

"Are you saying you want to transfer, Midoriya?"

Izuku looked at Aizawa from the corner of his eye. "I don't know if want is the right word, but. .

.it's what I need."

Aizawa sat forward with a sigh. "We'll talk more in a few days. Just try to relax for now."

Izuku gave a tentative nod, watching him walk down the hall. He stood from the couch and flopped down on the floor mat closing his eyes.

"Are you ok?" a small voice asked. Izuku peeled open his eyes confused about when he fell asleep. He looked over to Eri kneeling by the mat, dressed in pajamas.

Izuku nodded with a stretch. "Just tired."

"Papa said he's gonna make pancakes for breakfast."

It was then that Izuku realized the room was bright with morning light. He sprang up unable to believe he'd slept through the night. The last few days had drained him more than he'd realized. "I love pancakes," he finally answered.

Eri beamed, clapping her hands happily. "You're staying with us, right?"

Izuku blushed. "Yeah, I think so."

"For how long?"

"Eri," Aizawa said in a warning tone. "Midoriya, the bathroom is the first door on the left."

Izuku gave a quick thanks, snatching up his bag from the floor before heading down the hall. The burns were healed so he was able to enjoy steaming hot water.

If he was going to be a hero, he'd need a suit. Not like he didn't have a notebook filled with designs. It still felt absurd to consider. He didn't let himself think about it further. Instead, he shut the water off and picked up a towel.

Looking in the foggy mirror, Izuku's resolve crumbled. Heroes didn't have scars like the ones that marred arms and torso. Heroes weren't so weak. Heroes had to be strong to save the people around them.

Izuku tried to be strong once and failed horribly. Now he had scars to remind him of how badly he'd lost that fight.

He turned from the mirror and pulled on a long sleeve shirt. When he stepped out of the bathroom, the air smelled sweet. Eri was standing at the stove with Mic ladling batter onto a skillet. Shinsou and Aizawa were sitting on the couch watching the morning news.

Out of place.

He did not belong.

"Zuzu! How many pancakes do you want?"

"T-Two?" Izuku took a deep breath to settle his anxiety. It worked a little bit.

Eri frowned, waving her pink spatula thoughtfully. "Six," she nodded, turning back to the batter bowl.

"You don't have to be so stiff, Midoriya," Shinsou said from the couch. "You can sit down." Izuku flushed. "R-Right."

There was something comforting about their quiet interactions. It reminded him of the way Hatsume got lost in her tinkering. The same love expressed in a different way. Pancakes on the weekend. Bows in every color of the rainbow scattered around the living room. A brush sitting on the end table. Laugher coming from the kitchen.

Izuku tried to remember his parents. He'd forgotten their faces long ago, but he was sure there wasn't any laugher or pancakes on the weekend. Watching Eri flip pancakes, tongue caught in the corner of her mouth, made him smile in a painful way. He knew her story and everything she endured with Overhaul, but now she was wearing a frilly apron and dropping chocolate chips into the batter.

"Breakfast is ready!"

Izuku was beginning to think his poor heart would never get the chance to settle down. He was pretty sure his sternum was bruised from how hard it'd been beating the last few days.

"Principal Nezu has authorized the course transfer," Aizawa said, hands tucked into his pockets. His dark eyes scanning Izuku's face, searching for something.

Izuku nodded, shaking off the feeling that he was being crushed. "Ok. What now?"

"We start training tomorrow. Principal Nezu has given me authorization to use the campus facilities during break." Outside there was a squeal from Eri. "The next provisional hero license course is a month away, so we'll be training for that."

"Only a month?" Izuku murmured, wondering if that was possible.

Aizawa nodded. "I told you it won't be easy. You'll also be taking classes on the weekends to meet the coursework requirements during the semester. All Might will oversee your physical training, but we're still looking into options for your quirk training."

Izuku nodded, lip caught between his teeth. The workload didn't bother him. If he was going to be exercising his quirked, he'd need to keep busy. "But what if there is no option? For my quirk training that is."

"I said we're looking through options, not that we don't have any," Aizawa clarified. He shut the door to the room they stood in. A spare room of sorts with mats and training equipment scattered around. An old computer sat in one corner covered in glittery stickers, paper with the scribbles of a child around it, and a cup of markers off to the side.

More lived-in space.

Aizawa didn't say anything as Izuku wandered around the room. An old set of speakers half- covered by poorly rolled yoga mats. A punching bag leaning against the wall—there was a hook on the ceiling a few feet away. Izuku picked up one of the wooden staffs leaning against the wall.

Heavier than the one Hatsume made for him.

"Midoriya," Aizawa said quietly, getting the younger boy's attention. "What happened to your parents?"

Izuku flinched, quickly putting the staff back for a small distraction. No, his heart wouldn't be getting rest anytime soon. "Um, well," he stammered scratching his cheek. "When my quirk manifested. . .I. . .made a mistake." He kept his back turned to Aizawa, not wanting to see his reaction to the truth.

"What do you mean, Midoriya?"

Izuku closed his eyes to the flash of blood that crossed his vision. He let out a shaky breath when he opened them again. It was just a red exercise band.

Swallow. Hide it.

"I was four," he whispered, unable to speak any louder. "I was with my dad and. . .I didn't realize what I was doing. . .but I couldn't stop either." Izuku uncurled his fingers from his arms wincing at the deep crescent-shaped indents. "I drove him crazy and then he killed himself." Izuku gulped, trembling, but he couldn't stop that either. "My mom couldn't handle me and his. . .death. . .so she surrendered me a little while later."

There was a bloated silence that followed. Even with his back turned, Izuku could feel Aizawa's stare boring into his back. No thoughts, though. He wasn't sure he could handle fighting those off on top of everything else.

"I see," Aizawa muttered, suddenly closer. "That's a lot for a child."

Izuku snorted, finding that an understatement. "It's the kind of power a villain has," he said lowly, repeating what one of his foster moms said once.

"No. No, it's not. It's whatever you make it."

Izuku finally turned to look at Aizawa surprised to find him less than a foot away. "That's why I wanted to be a hero. I thought that if I could save people, I could prove them wrong."

"So, why did you give up?"

Izuku shifted his gaze to the floor. "Sometimes, dreams are just dreams. The reality of using my quirk wasn't something I could do long-term." He sighed, knowing that Aizawa would want a better explanation than that. "When I get into people's heads, I experience their memories, the emotions they felt in those moments. My brain has trouble separating what was basically a simulation and what I've actually been through." He looked back up at Aizawa. "My anxiety is already bad, but when I reach into the dark parts of a person's mind. . ." he trailed off with a shrug. "I forget that those memories aren't mine and it's. . .more than I can handle."

Aizawa's gaze softened the smallest bit. "That's why you joined the Support Course."

"I've always loved analyzing quirks. At the time I thought it was the closest I could get to being an actual hero, but I really fell in love with it."

Aizawa nodded, looking around the room in thought. "We'll figure out how to manage your quirk,"

he promised. "What you do after that is up to you, but I hope to at least give you the option."

Izuku felt his heart clench in his chest and couldn't stop the tears that welled in his eyes. He flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around Aizawa, surprising even himself. "Thank you," he muttered into Aizawa's dark shirt, relaxing when tentative hands settled on his back in a loose embrace. "Thank you."

Izuku walked behind Aizawa holding Eri's hand tightly. The little girl tried several times to drag him away to look at cupcakes or cereal that was definitely 100% sugar. Izuku realized that she must've seen him as an easy target because one "no" from Aizawa had her settling down with a pout.

"But this Star Force Five cereal has unicorn marshmallows!" she was saying, eyes wide and pleading as she held the brightly colored box out to Aizawa. "Please!"

"No."

Eri stomped her foot, clutching the box to her chest. "Papa would let me," she grumbled, reaching up to grab Izuku's hand.

Aizawa's brow twitched. "Put it back, Eri."

She yelped when Shinsou swooped her up into his arms. "How about those little oranges you like?" He swiftly took the cereal box from her hands and handed it off to Izuku to put back before she noticed. She jutted out her lower lip and gave a sour nod. Shinsou gave the things he'd run off to get to Aizawa who put them in the cart.

Watching a hero pull out a shopping list and diligently check off items wasn't something Izuku thought he'd ever see. Surrounded by Hero-themed cereal merch it was easy to forget they were real people who needed to go shopping.

"Is there anything you want, Midoriya?"

Izuku snapped out of his daze and looked at Aizawa, who was frowning down at the list in his hands. "N-No!" he stammered, waving his hands dismissively.

"What's your favorite food?"

Izuku had never really thought about it. He got used to eating whatever was provided. No one had ever asked him what he wanted to eat. It felt like a lot of pressure. Was ramen too basic? No, that wasn't his favorite. "I do like katsudon, I guess." When Aizawa looked down at the list thoughtfully, he quickly added, "I'll eat whatever, please don't buy extra because of me."

The protest went unheard. Izuku scowled at the pork cutlets sitting in the shopping cart wishing he'd said ramen. Beside him, Shinsou snickered. "I told you they don't give up," he whispered.

"I won't doubt you again," Izuku muttered back. Sighing, he turned up his music a few notches to drown out the thrum of people thinking about their groceries. He followed the little family through the store silently, more than happy to fade into the background, smiling as Eri swung their hands back and forth.

Eri ran ahead to open the door. Izuku helped carry the groceries inside feeling again like he was imposing. He considered leaving—more like sneaking out—but it was inevitable that he'd see

Aizawa in the future, Hero Course or not, and the threat to his life was too great. So, he stewed in his guilt while unpacking the bags trying to figure out a way to repay the hospitality.

He had no money and was only mediocre in the kitchen. He supposed he could clean, that was something he was pretty good at. Yeah, that would work. He spun around to Aizawa. "I-I'll clean!"

Aizawa paused putting away a package of noodles to look at him. "That's. . .not necessary, Midoriya."

"While I'm here, please let me help. I'm not really good at much else, but I'm used to cleaning!" Izuku pushed. He wilted as Aizawa studied him. In the living room, the chatter between Shinsou and Eri had stopped too. "If I'm staying here, I want to help."

"Fine," Aizawa groaned, dragging a hand down his perpetually tired face. "You can help Shinsou with his chores."

Izuku nodded determinedly, flinching when Shinsou set a hand on his shoulder. The other boy quickly pulled his hand away covering up the way his face fell with an easy smile. "Come on."

Izuku followed him down the hall, leaving Eri to watch cartoons in the living room and Aizawa in the kitchen. Shinsou took Izuku to his bedroom, third door on the left, across the hall from Eri's— if the glittery stickers were any clue. Izuku took in the room finding it plain but orderly. Books stacked up neatly on a shelf, a few figurines, a desk by the window, thick curtains that blocked out the light. There were random pops of color. A band poster he didn't recognize tapped up above the bookshelf, their neon aesthetic sticking out like a sore thumb in the muted neutrals. A bright pink stuffed cat sitting on his made bed—probably the work of Eri. Then there was the plant that sat on the corner of his desk near the window, lush and well cared for.

"You can sit if you want," Shinsou said with a wave. He dropped to the floor, using his bed as a backrest. He reached up, grabbing a pillow from his bed and tossing it to Izuku. "There, you can use that to sit on."

Izuku caught the pillow and took a seat a few feet in front of Shinsou. "Um, I like your room."

Shinsou looked around as if he forgot what it looked like. "Oh, thanks. I don't really spend a lot of time here because of the dorms."

"Still," Izuku said, wringing his hands. "I'm sure it's nice to have something to come back to."

Shinsou was silent for a moment and then said, "Yeah, it is." He looked towards the window and stood to open the curtains. Bright, afternoon light spilled in filling the room with warmth. "You know, I get what you're going through," he started quietly, "I was a foster kid, too, until about two years ago."

"R-Really?" Izuku asked, genuinely surprised. "But you look so much like Mr. Aizawa." He felt bad when Shinsou flushed bright red and quickly apologized. "Did they adopt Eri too?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Yeah, around the same time," he said, turning from the window, cheeks still a little pink. "I'm just trying to say, you don't have to feel guilty about being here."

Izuku sunk into his shoulders, watching as Shinsou sat back down.

"I'm curious about your quirk. How does it work?" he asked, leaning forward. "Mine is activated by the other person answering a question."

Izuku thought for a minute. "If I want to manipulate someone, I need to see them."

"But you can hear thoughts all the time?"

"Yeah."

Shinsou hummed thoughtfully. "Have you ever had someone try to communicate with you?"

Izuku blinked. "No." He'd never considered that as a possibility and his hands itched to write it down, but his notebook was in the other room.

"Let's try it."

"Ok." Izuku nodded taking a deep breath. He waited; eyes locked with Shinsou's. He could feel thoughts coming, but this time he didn't fight them. Like Shinsou, they were muted, washing up against Izuku with an air of solicitation. Can you hear me?

Izuku jumped at the clear response and gave Shinsou a startled nod. The other boy narrowed his eyes curiously. "Try to respond."

Respond? Izuku gave it a shot, never one to back down from a challenge. He reached out with his quirk to the very edges of Shinsou's mind. He'd tried placing thoughts in people's minds before, but his quirk didn't work that way. Twisting together words Shinsou knew, Izuku answered with I like your poster.

Shinsou shook his head. "That felt weird."

"Sorry!" Izuku fiddled with his fingers struggling to contain his excitement. "But it worked." "I thought it would. My quirk is like a two-way street too."

Again, Izuku cursed himself for forgetting his notebook. "What do you mean?"

"If it's one person, even three, my control can't be broken without external force," he explained. "But if I get too far above that then I begin to lose control, especially if they're fighting me and they usually are."

Izuku committed that to memory until he could write it down. "No wonder they transferred you to the Hero Course, that's an awesome quirk!"

Shinsou blushed again. "Yours is cool, too," he grumbled. "There is something I've been wondering. What's it like inside someone's head?"

"Like a room," Izuku answered easily. "Some people are tidy, all their thoughts in order, their actions methodical. Some people are a mess, the way they react to situations scattered like clothes on the floor, their trash not picked up. Others are somewhere in between. Some have closets bigger than their rooms to hide their fears and doubts." Izuku looked up at the ceiling wistfully. "Others hide their trauma between their favorite books or hang it on their walls, no longer ashamed of it.

"If I dive in further, then it loses form, but that's when I can really manipulate someone. I don't really know how to describe that. Maybe like swimming in the dark? When I do that it's mostly following a feeling till I find what I'm looking for, but I've figured out there's a pattern to the way people think and store information."

"Like the parts of the brain?"

Izuku snapped his fingers. "Exactly! Making people do something is easy because it's right here"—he poked his forehead—"but making someone move is super hard because it's so far back," Izuku shifted his hand to point at the base of his skull.

Shinsou's eyes widened. "So, you could control someone if you were strong enough?" The thought made Izuku uneasy. "Yeah, I guess so. I've never really tried."

"Try your quirk on me."

"What?" Izuku yelped.

Shinsou waved his hand dismissively. "I just want to know if I could break it because of how my quirk works."

Izuku considered it. He'd be lying if he said he didn't wonder how someone else with a mental quirk may react to him. It would be good information to know. "You can't be mad at me if I know your secrets."

Shinsou shrugged unfazed. "I have nothing to hide."

"If you say so," Izuku muttered not fully convinced. "You're sure about this?" "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't."

"Fine," Izuku said and reached out to Shinsou's mind further than the first time. His room was similar to real life. Muted in tone but not quite as tidy. His closet hummed with dark energy which Izuku avoided fully. He pushed a little deeper into the intangible beyond.

Before him, Shinsou's face twitched. He could feel him fighting like an annoying fly. Izuku ignored him easily.

Curious about the poster, Izuku searched for the story behind it. Neon. Snippets of the chorus. A happy feeling. A bright smile.

Izuku pulled himself out, eyes blown wide. "Kaminari?" Izuku gasped. "You like him?" Izuku grinned. "You're sure you're not Aizawa's kid?" He realized his mistake a moment later when Shinsou's face turned beet red with a sneer. "I-I mean he is cute, but—I'm just surprised!" Izuku yelped when he was tackled to the ground, pinned at the shoulders. "I warned you!" He raised his arms to protect his face and to hide his snickers.

"You little shit. You tell anyone you're dead. You hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, but I—" Izuku felt his body go lax, Shinsou smirking above him. Oh crap.

"Hey."

Izuku felt the hold drop due to Aizawa glaring in the doorway. "No powers at home," he warned, waiting till he got a nod from both of them before continuing. "And dinner's ready. Wash up."

Shinsou pulled Izuku forward by his shirt. "You owe me," he hissed before letting go. Izuku glared at him, smoothing out the wrinkles left behind, grumbling, "I warned you."

The next morning, Izuku found himself yawning outside of one of UA's training gyms. It was

early, still grey outside, but Aizawa had insisted they begin training as soon as possible, which meant five in the morning apparently. At least Shinsou was suffering with him. He looked between the two wearily, wondering if he'd also develop those dark circles. He hoped not.

"We'll work on your quirk later," Aizawa said. "For now, we'll begin physical training. All Might will be joining us later to go over you're new training schedule."

Izuku nodded making the effort to wake himself up. He took a deep breath and stretched, working out the pins and needles lingering in his muscles. "Alright, what's first?"

"All Might asked that I get your baseline." Aizawa nodded towards Shinsou. "And we need to update yours."

The other boy nodded looking just as determined. Even though Shinsou had transferred earlier, Izuku supposed they were both behind their peers.

"Eri, can you bring me those balls?" Aizawa pointed towards a white bucket over by the wall.

Eri, unaffected by the early hour, gave a stern salute and dragged the bucket over. Aizawa reached in and picked up a ball, tossing it to Shinsou. Already knowing what to do, he stepped up to the spray-painted line and threw the ball as far as he could and Izuku mimicked.

"Neither of you have physical enhancing quirks, so don't be discouraged by your peer's scores." That to say they barely broke 150 feet.

By the end of the tests, Izuku was sweating. Near him, Aizawa clicked his stopwatch as Shinsou finished the last sprint and repeated the time for Eri to record on her clipboard. "You have a lot of work to do, Midoriya. It will be important to follow all of All Might's orders."

Izuku gave a thumbs up, mouth too busy sucking in air to answer. A shadow crossed over his face. Shinsou leaned over him, arm outstretched to help him up. Izuku took it, stumbling to his feet.

"Sparing next," Aizawa ordered.

Izuku relaxed, rolling his shoulders. At least that was something he was pretty good at. His quirk helped of course, and he used it, dodging Shinsou's attacks and landing shots in-between. A swift kick to the ribs had the other boy sprawled on the ground.

"Another point for Zuzu," Eri announced, drawing a line by Izuku's name.

Shinsou looked up at Aizawa from the ground. "How the heck am I supposed to beat someone who knows my moves?"

"Definitely not an easy opponent," Aizawa said, helping him up. "Think about it."

Shinsou thought for a moment, looking Izuku up and down. "At the final, Bakugo started landing hits when Midoriya got tired."

Aizawa nodded. "Yes, you'd have to tire him out, move faster, or overwhelm him." Aizawa looked over at Izuku. "That's something you need to keep in mind, too, Midoriya. If you get burnt out, you're no help to your teammates."

Izuku nodded, scribbling the note down in his notebook. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good morning!" a voice called. All Might strolled towards them, a bag hanging on his shoulder.

"I brought you some lunch. Nice to meet you, young Midoriya. Aizawa has told me much about you."

Izuku shook the hero's hand not even trying to hide his star-studded expression. He'd been so nervous during the final he'd hardly registered that it was the All Might. Him not being in his Hero form didn't help. "I-It's nice to meet you again!"

There was a moment of confusion before realization dawned across All Might's hollow face. "I— Yes, I remember now. I thought you looked familiar at the final. You tried to help young Bakugo during the sludge villain attack several years ago. I'd know that green hair anywhere," All Might grinned.

Keyword tried. Izuku nodded bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. "Yep, that's me."

All Might frowned then, looking away. He shook his head. "We have a lot of work to do, young

Midoriya."

Izuku nodded, hands clenching into fists. "I'll work my hardest!"