Izuku watched Bakugo from the corner of his eye as he packed, trying not to be nervous as Bakugo wandered around. It wasn't the first time Bakugo had been in his room. But the times before had been short visits. This time, Bakugo had followed him up to his room after dinner to pack and stuck around.

He paused his slow turn around the room at Izuku's bookshelf, craning his head slightly to read the spines. "You've got one of me," he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled the notebook out and leafed through the pages.

"I have one of everyone," Izuku said, balling up another shirt before tossing it in his bag. "Part of my course work was studying quirks and their current costume designs." He walked back over to his closet and pulled out a hoodie. "I did most of those my first year."

"Huh," Bakugo said, stopping on a sketch of him in mid-air combat. "Do you miss it?"

Izuku looked at the notebook in his hands and then at the others on the shelf. "I do," he said, "sometimes anyway. I like being a hero more." He stuffed the hoodie in and forced the zipper closed. Mina would not be proud. "It scratched an itch. That was all."

"These designs are good, Deku," Bakugo said almost gently like he was afraid there was a nerve to poke. "You said you designed that kid's costume, right? The one with water?"

Izuku kept his back turned as he nodded. "It was just a proposal," he muttered, playing with the zipper tag. "But it's cool that the designer kept most of my design."

"Why do you talk like it doesn't matter?"

Izuku stiffened at how close Bakugo had gotten.

"You can be a Hero and still love designing costumes."

He looked down at the hand Bakugo rested on his shoulder, comfort seeping into him.

"Hey," Bakugo said, getting Izuku to look at him, "it's a good design, nerd."

"Of course, it is," Izuku huffed, shrugging his hand off. "I got an A."

Bakugo's arm wrapped around him, pulling Izuku against his chest. "Confident looks good on you, Deku," he said, his voice a low hum near Izuku's ear.

Izuku let out a nervous sound he hoped passed for a laugh as his stomach flipped. "S-Shouldn't you be packing?"

He hummed, leaning more of his weight on Izuku. "I thought you'd have more All Might stuff," he said, glancing around the relatively bare room. "You were always getting the same shit as me."

Izuku stilled, a chill sweeping over him. "I never bought any of it, Kacchan." He looked over his shoulder at Bakugo when he removed his arm. "I just carried it around till it kinda felt like mine." He turned back to his bed. "Then I would put it back."

"But you chose a fucking beanbag as the first thing you'd buy with money," Bakugo scoffed without missing a beat.

Izuku felt a flush creep up his neck. That wasn't the response he'd been expecting. "I wasn't really thinking hard about it." He batted away the finger Bakugo jabbed into his temple. "It was the first thing that came to mind, ok?"

"Why don't you buy one then?" Bakugo reached over to the jar of money sitting on Izuku's desk. "Is this your allowance or some shit?" He twisted away as Izuku tried to grab it. "You know, people usually give you money so you can spend it."

Izuku let out a frustrated breath as Bakugo evaded him. "Give it back, Kacchan." He managed to get his fingers around the lip of the jar, but Bakugo fought him. "If you don't pack, we're going to be late!"

Bakugo tossed the jar back. "We're gone for two days. It's not like there's a lot of shit to pack."

Izuku fumbled for the jar, letting out a breath when he caught it. "If you're done snooping through my room, you should go pack, Kacchan."

"Oh, so you can snoop through mine, but I can't snoop through yours?" He snorted from somewhere behind Izuku. "What kind of bullshit logic is that, Deku?"

Izuku sunk into his shoulder. "Well, it's not like I have anything interesting," he muttered, setting the jar of money back on his desk.

"Shows what you know," Bakugo said, closer again. Izuku relaxed as a weight settled on his shoulder, one he'd gotten used to. "Maybe you don't have all the All might merch I was expecting, but. . ."

Izuku turned his head, stopping when their cheeks brushed. "But what?" He reluctantly admitted he was curious to know what parts of him Bakugo saw scattered around the room.

Bakugo kept his eyes locked with Izuku's as he lifted his head. "It's you." Izuku rolled his eyes and turned away. "You need—"

"You don't know how to spend money," Bakugo cut off, gesturing to the dusty jar. "You have these random parts on your desk." He picked up a twisted piece of metal. Part of a failed baby from Izuku's first time in the shop with Hatsume. He'd kept it, not wanting to forget the memory. "Only one pillow and one blanket," he said, gaze sliding to the closet, "nothing here is in excess. Like you're trying to take up as little space as possible."

Izuku shrunk back slightly, feeling like Bakugo was seeing right through him. He glanced around the room and wondered how so few things could tell Bakugo so much. He felt paper-thin and Bakugo had held him to the light, all his bits and pieces illuminated

"You don't have any pictures," Bakugo said, stepping away. "A pile of sketchbooks." He picked one up and flipped through the old costume designs within. He smiled a bit as he said, "You keep the things you made. All of it. But even in your room, you keep it tucked away."

"Alright," Izuku said with a humorless laugh, "I. . .I get it. Believe it or not, this is progress." He expected to get a laugh out of that or some quip back, but Bakugo simply set the sketchbook down with a thoughtful pinch to his brow.

"You know, Deku," he said, leaning against the wall, "your room is cold as fuck."

Izuku deflated, his emotional energy zapped from his body. "But—"

Bakugo barreled on, "No wonder you complain about it being cold. Fuck. What the hell?"

"You're just sensitive," Izuku teased, picking up his bag. "Mr. I-Own-Every-Blanket-In- Existence."

"You got a problem with my fucking blankets, Deku?" Bakugo sneered, chin tipping up in challenge.

"Bakubro, you packed yet?" Kiri stuck his head into Izuku's room, smirking when he saw them. "Thought you might be in here."

Izuku bit the inside of his lip and heaved his bag onto his shoulder. "He's not," he said to Kiri before looking over at Bakugo still leaning against his wall. "I will leave without you, Kacchan."

"The fuck you will," Bakugo said, looking Izuku up and down as he pushed off the wall. He brushed past Izuku and grabbed Kiri on the way out.

Izuku chuckled at the choked sound Kiri made as he was dragged over to Bakugo's room. He could hear muffled arguing on the other side of the door as he passed it.

"Do you know where you're going this weekend?" Mina asked as Izuku dropped his bag on the sofa.

"As far I know, we're just staying at her place," Izuku said, slumping down on the cushion beside her. "Just our usual patrol."

Mina scrunched up her nose. "Boring. You only come back with fun stories when you travel." She whipped her head over to look at him. "Isn't your train in an hour?"

"Yep," Izuku huffed, glaring at the elevator doors, "luckily the train station is only a five-minute walk away." He pulled out his phone to text Bakugo again anyway.

"I'm right here damn it!" Bakugo said as soon as the elevator doors opened. "You damn nerd, you're impatient as hell." Kiri followed behind with his own bag on his shoulder.

Izuku said a quick goodbye to Mina and Kiri before following Bakugo out of the building. "Have you heard from Mirko?"

Bakugo let out a stiff breath through his nose and relaxed slightly in his shoulders. "Just to head to her apartment when we get there."

There were a lot of people out and about, getting off work and going home. They walked in relative silence to the station.

"This doesn't bother you?" Bakugo asked, giving a pointed glance to all the people around them.

Izuku listened to the hum of thoughts before he answered, "Not really. Everything blends together. Just sounds like noise."

Bakugo frowned, looking around again. "Then what does bother you?"

"Depends," Izuku sighed with a shrug. "A smaller group of people used to bother me, but I've

gotten better at blocking thoughts out. I can't turn my quirk off, but I've learned that I can draw it back." The crowd around them started moving as a train pulled in, but it wasn't theirs, so Izuku leaned back against the wall. "Depends on if I've been using my quirk a lot or if I'm tired or if people are thinking a lot."

"Aren't people always thinking?" Bakugo asked, raising a brow. "Isn't that how you're able to predict moves?"

"Yes and no," Izuku said, a little louder to be heard over the train leaving. "Most people aren't thinking all the time with an internal monolog. Everybody thinks differently anyway." He let out a frustrated breath. "It's hard to explain. There's a difference between the subconscious and someone working through a math problem."

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. "That's how you knew I was faking a fake."

Izuku grinned, proud of himself. "Almost fooled me, but not quite."

"Cheeky shit," Bakugo snorted as another train rumbled in. "I think it's ours."

Izuku followed him onto the train and took a seat next to the window while Bakugo sat on the aisle. He was glad it wasn't a long ride.

"Mirko tell you anything more about the Tokyo attack?"

Izuku glanced over at Bakugo, but his head was rested back with closed eyes. "No, nothing more than what she told me at the gala," he said, shifting his eyes to look outside, "I haven't asked either."

"Why not?"

From his peripheral, Izuku saw him sit up. "I don't want to upset Aizawa," Izuku admitted quietly. "If it's important, they'll tell me." He heard Bakugo let out a heavy breath.

"I know you're worried about it," Bakugo said slowly, trying to get Izuku to look at him. "Especially about what Hawks said."

Paper-thin.

Izuku turned to look at him, reluctantly. "They're Pros. They've got it handled," he said, mostly for

himself.

"If it has to do with you, you have a right to know about it," Bakugo said gruffly, shifting in his seat into more of a slouch.

"I guess," Izuku said. He opened his mouth to ask something, but he hesitated. "What, Deku?"

Izuku glanced over at him. "What happens if they are after me?" He stared hard at his shoes. "I did something to Dabi, what if he comes after me? I don't know if I'll be lucky a second time," he said, shifting his eyes to the scars along the tops of his hands.

"That's bullshit," Bakugo spat, driving his elbow into Izuku's arm. "It wasn't luck that got you out, dumbass."

Izuku scowled at him while rubbing his arm. "You don't know that, Kacchan, and the fact of the

matter is that I don't either."

"I do fucking know," Bakugo shot back with a heady glare. "No one just gets away from that bastard. You got out because you fought him and won."

"It didn't feel like a win," Izuku muttered, thinking back to the pain he did remember.

Bakugo shrugged. "Winning isn't always easy, Deku. Doesn't always feel good either." He shifted again with a grumble. "You're alive, Deku," he said, "sometimes that's a win in itself."

"I guess your right," Izuku said, turning to look back out the window at the passing city.

Izuku dropped his duffle bag and the case with his suit as soon as they got into Mirko's tiny apartment.

"Nope," she said, wagging a finger at the discarded luggage, "don't get comfortable."

"Patrol?" Izuku asked as he picked his stuff back up. Bakugo remained standing by his side, scowling at her.

Mirko grinned, hands on her hips. "Nope! I have a surprise for you two." She swiped something off the kitchen table and held it out to him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Bakugo deadpanned.

Izuku took one of the lanyards from her hands and inspected the card attached. "A convention? I don't understand."

Her smile faltered. "Eraserhead and I have been discussing ways to ease you into the public eye. UA's media manager offered this as a solution."

"But why?" Izuku asked, frowning down at the stylized portrait of All Might in his former glory HERO PASS printed under it.

Mirko handed the other pass to Bakugo. "They're rabid over you, kid," she said, turning to Izuku. "Luckily, there's plenty of other Heroes who'd rather have the spotlight, so shifting the media attention away from you has been pretty easy."

"You think they'll get interested again when we start patrolling," Izuku summed up.

"Yes," Mirko said with a nod. "We'll be doing a couple meet and greets. We need to get the public

to know you, not the version of you they've come to know on TV."

The version on TV.

Izuku swallowed hard and nodded.

Mirko picked up her own bag. "Come on, we've got a train to catch."

"You made us come all the way from the train station just to go back?" Bakugo said through gritted teeth.

"We're going to Kyoto. The train leaves from a different station," Mirko said. "Quit whining and come on."

"What's it like?"

Mirko smiled over at him as they walked down the hall. "It's not too bad. Some Heroes don't like them, but I've always liked getting to see people. It's easy to become secluded in the Hero world."

Izuku shifted the strap of his bag over his head to let his armrest. "So, we just meet a bunch of people?"

"For you two, yeah," she said, holding the door open for them. "I've got a few panels, so you'll get time to explore."

Bakugo looked like he'd rather do anything else at the mention of meeting people. "It's a waste of time."

Mirko raised a brow. "Would you like me to schedule a photoshoot?" She shot a grin at Izuku. "He's camera shy."

"I am not shy!" Bakugo spat.

Mirko straightened up. "Oh really?" she purred, challenge rolling in her voice. A smirk pulled at

her lips as Bakugo visibly backed down. "That's what I thought."

Izuku glanced between them, taking a step back from the hostility. "So will there be other Heroes there?"

"Oh yeah, lots!" Mirko said, her usual bright grin returning. "Hawks should be there, too." "So, this means we're not patrolling this weekend?"

Mirko looked back over at Bakugo. "No, but this is another part of Hero work." She hooked an arm around his shoulders. "But don't worry, we'll still be training. Gotta see how much you two have improved."

"Why is the press so interested in me?" Izuku asked Mirko as they neared the train station.

"Part of it is me," she said, eyes focused on Bakugo ahead of her as her ears twitched around. "I knew when I took on Bakugo that it might get a rise out of people. Subsequently, the same thing happened to you." Mirko looked over at Izuku. "The fire didn't help matters, but a few journalists have been digging around trying to figure out your quirk. Especially about what happened with the yakuza group a few months back."

"So that's why we're doing this," Bakugo said, inclining his head over his shoulder. "To give them something else to talk about."

"Ideally, yes," Mirko said before handing them tickets. "Photos with fans is always good press."

Izuku pushed through the ticket doors to the platform. A crowd of people buzzed around them, but few paid any attention. Izuku knew that most of those people were locals and were used to seeing Mirko out and about, them too. A few people waved, some girls giggled as they passed, but no one came up to them.

It was kind of nice. To just exist. It was never like that when they traveled. At least once every trip they were swarmed. Mirko invited it, so Izuku was never surprised, but it could be overwhelming.

"Have you been to a convention?" he asked Bakugo, trying not to let his nerves show.

"Once," Bakugo said, lip curling in disgust. "Hated it."

Mirko stepped forward as a train rolled in. "You're so dramatic, Bakugo. Saying hello to people won't kill you."

"It might."

"Get on the train," Mirko said with a small laugh.

Izuku toyed with the pass hanging around his neck as he looked at the line winding around the civic center. "That's a lot of people," he murmured in awe. Bakugo gave him a nudge. A silent urging to relax. Izuku tried with a deep breath.

"Keep walking," Mirko said, ushering them through the Hero entrance. "Our booth is this way."

People were rushing inside, running to put final touches together before the gates opened. Izuku stuck close to Mirko as they crossed what looked like a food court.

"Oh, there you are!" a frazzled man said, glasses sitting askew on his nose. "The three-hour time slot sold out." He didn't give Mirko time to respond before pushing her towards the photographer. "This is Riku. One minute per picture. Gates open in ten. Smile!"

Mirko let out an exasperated breath as the man hurried off.

"Uh, we're all set up," Riku said, gesturing to the tripod and backdrop. "Should be smooth sailing."

Izuku looked around in mute awe and took off the lanyard when Mirko asked for it. "So, what do we do?" he asked, heart pounding in his ears as voices entered the photo op hall.

"It's easy," Mirko said, leaning towards him. "Just smile and be nice."

"Ok. Yeah. I can do that." Izuku nodded to himself and squared his shoulders. "It's Deku!"

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh no, I can't." He relaxed slightly when Bakugo snorted and covered his mouth, the hint of a smile still showing as his eyes crinkled. "Stop laughing at me," Izuku hissed.

"Quit looking ridiculous," Bakugo shot back.

You'll be fine, Mirko soothed and Izuku let her calm wash over him.

It was therapeutic in a way. The brief exchange of words, the flash of the camera, the hurried mentions of gratitude before they were led away by security.

"This isn't so bad," he whispered to Bakugo in the space between photos. Bakugo's scowl deepened. "It's still early."

Izuku gave him a nudge as a little girl and her mother approached.

"Well, aren't you just adorable," Mirko said, crouched down so that she was eye level with the child. "What's your name?"

Her mother gave her a gentle push. "Go on."

"Mei," she said shyly, twisting her foot into the ground.

Izuku knelt down as she gave her mother a worried look. "My best friend's name is Mei."

She turned her eyes to him. "Really?"

"Yep, and she's the smartest person I know. I bet you're pretty smart, too." He glanced down at the paper she clutched against her chest. "Did you make something?"

She nodded and shoved the folded paper towards him. "For you and Dynamight," she muttered, cheeks cherry red.

Bakugo plucked the paper from Izuku's hands as he was unfolding it. He looked at it for a second before saying, "I'm taking this."

"It's for both of us," Izuku scoffed, taking the girl's hand to get the picture.

Bakugo shrugged and stuffed the drawing in his pocket. "Too bad. Let's get this picture."

As the line dwindled down, Izuku thought his cheeks might fall off.

"Alright," Mirko said, giving them a stern scowl, "as long as you two promise not to cause trouble, you can go explore." She cut Izuku off before he could voice his excitement. "On one condition."

Izuku and Bakugo glanced at each other before nodding.

"You have to wear these."

Izuku took the ball cap from her outstretched hand. "This is all?"

"Well, you've got to change too," she said, gesturing to his suit.

Bakugo snatched the other hat and grabbed Izuku by his hood. "Come on, nerd, I'm hungry." "You don't have to drag me, Kacchan!" Izuku brushed himself off once Bakugo let go.

Once changed and disguised to Mirko's liking, Izuku wandered around the booths and shops while Bakugo trailed after him. He looked at a stand with All Might merch remembering what Bakugo had said and wishing he'd brought some of the jar money.

Sighing, he stepped away and went to find a table to sit at. He looked around the food court but couldn't spot Bakugo in the crowd.

"Here," Bakugo said before handing Izuku a boat of takoyaki. He sat across from Izuku with his own food.

"Let me see the drawing," Izuku said, jabbing a chopstick towards Bakugo.

Bakugo pulled out the folded piece of paper and slid it across the table. "The last thing we needed was you crying. The line was already getting held up."

Izuku glared at him as he tentatively drew the paper closer. "You act like I cry over everything." "You do."

"Do not." Izuku withered as the staring contest dragged on. Bakugo wasn't willing to move an inch on the matter. Izuku opened up the paper with a determined breath before looking. "Aw, how cute." He turned the paper around so Bakugo could see. "Look, we're holding hands with Mirko."

"I know, I saw it first. Now give it back."

Izuku pulled the picture to his chest. "It's for both of us. Why do you get it?"

Bakugo's eyes narrowed, and he slowly set down his chopsticks. "Because I'm going to be the #1 Hero, Deku, so I get the first fanart."

"That," Izuku scoffed, "makes no sense!"

"Of course, it does, Deku," Bakugo said, snatching the paper away.

Izuku sputtered at his empty hands. "Hey!" He sat back with a huff, hating Bakugo's victorious smirk. He pulled out the event program and looked through what was coming up next. "There's a panel on Provision Heroes," Izuku said, reading the short description. "They might talk about us."

"When is it?"

"At noon." He checked his phone. "Which is soon. Mirko will be busy with her panel till one."

Bakugo stood, crumpling the paper food boat in his hand. "Then we should go get a seat and see if this guy had anything good to say."

Izuku flipped through the event guild as he followed him. "We have another photo op tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Izuku hummed in thought as he scanned the Hero names present. "I wonder if Tokoyami's here. It doesn't look like they have anything scheduled today." He stuffed the guild away as they entered the tightly packed room. The chairs were full, so they stood in the back. Two people sat on the stage, a large screen behind them.

"I think I recognize them," Izuku said, rereading the names on the pamphlet. "I'm pretty sure they run a popular podcast that talks about new Heroes." He looked up and around at the crowd surrounding them. "They're pretty influential."

"Well, I've never heard of them," Bakugo said, crossing his arms over his chest, "so they can't be that great."

Izuku looked up as the lights dimmed and the chatter of the crowd fell off.

"Usually, we'd save the best for last, but we have a lot to talk about," the male host said after a quick introduction.

The female host nodded. "We sure do. This year has been full of surprises and plenty of debut Heroes, but one, in particular, has caught the public's eye."

Izuku shrunk back as she raised a remote and a photo of him appeared on the screen behind them.

"Although it would seem he's a little camera shy," the man said with a light laugh. "We haven't seen much of Deku since the fire in Tokyo last July."

Hushed murmurs flitted through the crowd as a wide shot of the apartment building on fire popped up. Izuku stiffened slightly at the sight of it and felt Bakugo shift closer.

"UA has confirmed that Deku is fully recovered and looking forward to returning to Hero work soon." The woman smiled wide. "In fact, I've heard he's here with Mirko and Dynamight."

Izuku tugged his hood up further around his face.

"There's been a lot of speculation about Deku's quirk," the man said, shifting to sit up straighter in his chair. "Given that Mirko has taken him on as an intern, we can assume that his quirk is strong enough to stand his own in a fight."

The co-host nodded in agreement, one leg crossing over the other. "True. Mirko seems to be quite proud of him, too, citing that he has made a vast improvement over the course of his training."

"And yet, we don't know what his quirk does," the man said, waving a vague hand towards the screen.

Izuku frowned, Aizawa's words ringing in his head.

"That's not entirely true," the woman said. "We know he's capable of mind-reading, but it's not uncommon for Heroes to keep aspects of their quirks under wraps for the sake of strategic fighting."

The man looked up at the candid picture of Izuku to the crowd. "But don't you wonder," he drawled, pointedly look at the crowd, "what he's hiding?" He leaned forward. "The yakuza group for example. How was it possible that Deku managed to walk out of a warehouse with an injured hostage filled with illegal firearms without a shot going off?" He looked to the audience for answers. "Not even that, the police arrested twenty people after he got out of the building. It's just not possible with mind reading. Clearly, there is more to his quirk than meets the eye."

"There have been reports that villains stop dead in their tracks when Deku utters a command such as 'stop'," the woman said, clicking to an image of Izuku talking with police. "So, it's safe to assume that Deku also exhibits some sort of mind control abilities."

Izuku let out a nervous breath through his nose.

"As if the mind-reading wasn't bad enough," the man said, getting chuckles from the crowd. "Good thing he's a Hero, huh?"

Izuku looked down, feeling his face burn.

They said we should be glad you're on our side. The heroes. Guess they're right.

"I wouldn't say that," the woman cut in. "Just because we don't understand the full nature of his quirk or the fact that it's a mental quirk doesn't mean that we're lucky about anything. Clearly, Deku is serious about being a Hero. The debate between good and bad quirk is nonsensical. It entirely depends on the user."

"At least she has some sense," Bakugo muttered low enough that only Izuku could hear.

"But we don't know much about Deku," the man argued. "In fact, UA has kept him under pretty tight wraps which only leads me further to believe that his quirk could be considered dangerous."

"Dangerous?" the woman asked, almost a scoff.

The man nodded. "Yes, dangerous. Think about it. If he does have the power to control a person then it's not limited to guys who want to steal old ladies' purses."

"That doesn't mean he's dangerous," the woman said. "Any quirk can be dangerous." "Physically, yes, but mentally is completely different. It's the ultimate invasion of privacy." Izuku fidgeted as they argued back and forth.

"Do you want to leave?" Bakugo asked, leaning close to him.

Izuku shook his head. "No. I want to hear this." "De-Izuku—"

"I want to hear them out, Kacchan," Izuku said, cutting him a hard look. "This won't be the last time I hear it."

"Look," the guy said, raising his hands, "if you look at the kids past, he comes from a group home."

A chill stung across Izuku's skin as mutters from the audience lifted.

The man gave the crowd a thankful gesture before turning back to his cohost. "Kids nowadays are only put in group homes when their quirks aren't compatible with a normal family environment. Frankly, that just lends more support to Deku's quirk being mind control."

"If anything, I think Deku is an inspiration," the woman said, lifting her chin. "Since the Relinquish Rights Youth Protection Program was initiated over twenty years ago, the number of children with so-called 'difficult quirks' that have been turned over to the government has risen exponentially. Every year, thousands of kids are given up because their parents don't feel capable of managing their children's quirks.

"The program started off with good intentions. Kids were being left at hospitals and fire stations. Something had to be done, and this way the government could keep track of the biological parents." She laughed bitterly. "But it's quickly turned into a dumping ground for kids labeled with villain quirks. Kids with physical mutations are 30x more likely to be surrendered. These kids are victims of an underfunded and undersupported program that subjects them to long-term abuse.

"If they survive to 18—and most don't—then they're still left with a quirk labeled dangerous and no control over it. While I was doing research for this very segment, I learned that these kids are given no quirk training. There is no program to help them, besides speaking to a quirk therapist monthly at best, never at worst." She took in a deep breath. "I think Deku has proven himself as a Hero despite where he might've been as a child."

She clicked to a photo of him standing after the fire. Izuku recoiled at the sight of his burned flesh, echoed by the gasps in the crowd. "That's a Hero," she said, "no matter what his quirk is."

Bakugo placed a hand between his shoulders. Izuku looked over at him, torn between wanting to leave and wanting to hear what else they had to say. He moved closer to Bakugo, feeling his hand fall from his back.

Izuku looked back up at the screen. A different photo from the same day as Bakugo and Mirko walked him to the ambulance. Izuku felt the backs of their hand's brush, a breath catching in his throat at the brief contact.

Tentatively, Izuku pushed his hand out. He looked back to the screen as the backs of their hands met again. A jolt shot up his arm as the contact lingered and the images of fire on screen passed with little recognition. Izuku took in a slow, deep breath, trying to steady his heart as he stretched out his fingers. They brushed. Sparks raced under his skin with a small gasp.

Why do I want to touch him?

Izuku kept his eyes locked on the screen playing a video of him during a civilian rescue, but his mind was locked on the sensation of Bakugo's fingers pushing back against his. Izuku shifted his eyes to the ground, heart hammering as he reached out with his index finger, grazing the side of Bakugo's finger.

Heat rushed across his cheeks as Bakugo hooked a finger around his, their hands slowly lacing together. Shy and tentative.

Is this what I want?

Izuku glanced between them. He couldn't see their hands, but the feeling of Bakugo's hand intertwining with his burned up his insides. It settled with a smoldering ache.

It doesn't make any sense. What is so different about him?

"We should go," Bakugo said as the hosts moved onto another Provisional Hero.

"You don't want to wait and see if they'll take about you?" Izuku asked, muttering apologies as they moved through the crowd to the exit.

Bakugo took a deep breath and let his hand go as they stepped outside. It was still crowded but at least it wasn't shoulder to shoulder. Izuku stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket, trying to savor the warmth still lingering on his skin. The feeling of their hands together.

Bakugo pushed a stressed hand through his hair. "Was all that true?"

Izuku grabbed his sleeve. "Yes," he said, searching Bakugo's face as he said the word. He saw it, the slight pinch to his brow that he got when something troubled him. "Kacchan, don't."

His red eyes snapped up to his. "Don't what?"

Izuku let his sleeve go with a heavy sigh. "I don't know," he said, setting a hand on the back of his neck. "Worry about me, I guess. I'm ok." He looked up and met Bakugo's eyes. "You can't change the past, Kacchan."

Bakugo looked away, the muscle in his jaw clicking. "I wish I could," he breathed, years of regret showing on his face. "You were going through all that on top of me."

Izuku placed a hand on Bakugo's jaw and forced him to look at him. "Don't do that," Izuku said, letting his hand fall away when Bakugo didn't fight him. "I told you to move on, Kacchan. That's all over." He took a step back as Bakugo nodded stiffly. "Mirko should be done with her panel soon. We should go."

Old habits die hard.

After tossing and turning, Izuku snuck up to the roof. The hum of the city after dark soothed his racing mind. The street in front of the apartment building was empty, but somewhere in the

distance, Izuku could hear the thump of bass. If he stretched out with his quirk, he could catch drifting thoughts.

He kicked his feet over the side of the building and looked up. Inky darkness.

He closed his eyes, imagining the blanket of stars hidden within. "I thought you might be up here."

Izuku opened his eyes and looked over at Mirko as she crossed the roof and sat beside him. "Couldn't sleep," Izuku said, turning back to look at the shadowed buildings in the distance. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Everything ok?" she asked, scooting a little closer. "You and Bakugo seemed tense today."

"There was just—" He froze, body growing tense as blue flames flickered at his side.

Mirko leaned closer, her ears twitching. "Izuku?"

Izuku ignored her as he stared at the street below praying that he'd imagined it. But a burning weight settled on his shoulder.

"You didn't think I'd forget about you, did you?" Dabi asked as he sat beside Izuku. "Luck's not really your thing."

Izuku swallowed hard, flinching when Mirko's fingers brushed his arm.

"Izuku," she said more sternly, brow pinching with worry as she searched his face and withdrew her hand. "Talk to me."

He's not real.

"There were these people talking about Provisional Heroes," Izuku said, struggling to fight off the shake in his voice. "They had a lot to say about me."

"Yeah?" She cocked her head to see his downturned face better. "Was it bad?"

"They were trying to figure out my quirk." Izuku glanced at Dabi beside him. "The guy said it's dangerous and that's why I'm hiding it." He turned towards her, keeping his eyes down. "It's not like they're wrong. Hawks is right."

"Hawks is an idiot," Mirko cut in.

Izuku looked back down at the street below. "So, you think he's wrong?"

Mirko's ears laid back. "I didn't say that. But we don't really know either. It's just a theory."

"They want to kill me," Izuku said, glancing up at her.

"Possibly," Mirko agreed with a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging. "You should focus on being a teenager, Izuku. Let us Pro's handle it."

"Easier said than done," Izuku muttered.

She nudged her shoulder against his. "Listen to your teacher, will ya?"

"The first thing you did with your quirk was kill your father," Dabi said. "You think saving a few people will change its nature?" He shook his head. "We're the same, you and me. They're scared of our power. You'll never be accepted."

Izuku stiffened as Mirko set a hand on his head. "You're seeing him, aren't you?" She leaned closer to get a better look at him in the low light. "Izuku, talk to me."

"Yeah," Izuku forced out, fear spiraling through his chest with a stuttered breath. He turned towards her till Dabi was out of his vision completely. "I thought he was gone," he said, voice breaking at the end.

Mirko's hand shifted to his cheek. "Just look at me, ok?"

Izuku met her dark eyes with a shaky breath. "I wish. . .I could forget."

"I know," she said, brushing the hair off his forehead. "One day this will all be a memory. You just have to get through it till then."

"What if that takes a long time?" Izuku asked as he pulled away from her touch.

She smiled wide. "You're stuck with me, kid! You think I stop being your mentor after you graduate?" She laughed, light and airy. Izuku relaxed at the sound of it. "I'll always be there to knock some sense into you."

Izuku ducked under the smack aimed at the back of his head. "Will you take on more interns after us?"

"Not sure," she said with a shrug. "We'll see if there are any more brats who need handling." "I'm not a brat!" Izuku scoffed.

Mirko smirked. "I think Bakugo might argue that one."

"He would," Izuku muttered bitterly.