Tsukauchi Naomasa is suffering a breakdown of the most extraordinary kind. He can't believe what he's watching. He's sleep deprived. That's what this is. Midoriya was right, he does need to take better care of himself. But, Sansa's watching the same thing he is. The department is watching the same thing he is. Hell almost four million people have watched the same thing he is by the time he finally catches wind of what's happened.
There's Piper fighting and losing against some random criminal and then none other than Yagi Toshinori waltzes into frame and the fight ends with him having to do nothing more than raise his voice. And then he, like 4 million other people, watches as Piper removes his mask to ask for a signature.
Yagi accepts.
Naomasa can't help but laugh. "I'm gonna kill him."
Sansa looks at him, worry shining in those slitted eyes of his, but Naomasa only continues to chuckle as he reaches for his phone.
There's a few rings before there's a click on the other end of the line. He doesn't wait for a response. "You're dead to me."
There's silence. "I'm sorry? Tsukauchi-san this is you, isn't it? I-"
"I cannot believe you let that boy get away!" The detective hisses, lowering his voice.
Naomasa can hear the audible confusion on the other side of the line. "Boy? I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, my friend."
"The boy!" Tsukauchi stresses again, voice rising. "Pied Piper! The kid with the pipe and multicolored eyes! Hell! The person whose mask you signed in that stupid parking garage! Damn it Toshinori!" There's a pauses where the detective sucks in a breath, breathing heavily. He's just so frustrated. Frustrated with this job, with this kid, with the dead ends. He's frustrated with the lack of leads and dna and anything that could point to who Piper is or why he's doing what he is . He's frustrated with the late nights and the early mornings and the phone calls of false sightings and the intel that Japan's number one hero had given that boy his damned autograph. "Do you know how long I've been trying to get him in the station?" Naomasa curses, drawing the cautious eyes of those around him. They look surprised. He's not one to yell.
He'd been trying to take better care of himself after his talk with Midoriya, the boy had been right. But, there's only so much that he can do until self care becomes neglect and the people he's trying to protect suffer from it. He tugs roughly at his hair, falling back into his office chair as Sansa
looks on in pity. There's a moment of pregnant silence before the detective lets out an exhausted sigh. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."
Tsukauchi can hear shuffling on the other end of the speaker. "No apology needed, you seem very distressed. Rather it feels as if I'm the one who needs to apologize? What was it about the young man I met the other day?"
Naomasa sinks further into his seat, leaning his head back to stare as the pock-marked ceiling tiles above him. "He's a vigilante going by the name Pied Piper. We assume he's about the same age as the kids you're gonna be teaching soon."
"A vigilante?" The hero asks, coughing lightly. He can taste copper on his tongue. "That young?" "Unfortunately."
The hero takes a seat on one of the nearby benches lining the edge of the beach. "I simply assumed it was a new underground hero of some sort. I know you said you'd started chasing a young vigilante recently, but I would've thought you'd already caught them." There's another cough, more copper.
Naomasa lets his eyes fall shut. "Thanks."
"I-I didn't mean anything by it, I'm just surprised he's still causing trouble being so young."
"It's fine," the detective sighs, "Everyone at the station is surprised by it. Sansa thinks his quirk a form of mild luck enhancement and honestly if he keeps this up I might just have to start agreeing with him."
Toshinori lets out a low chuckle. "You'll have to tell me more about it sometime." There's a moment of silence. "You know, we haven't seen each other in awhile, how about lunch tomorrow?"
"I think you're forgetting something Toshi."
"Forgetting something? Wh– Ah! You're right, of course, my apologies. How about the day after tomorrow then?"
"Sounds like a plan."
Midoriya paces up and down the length of Reo's room just behind the older teen's back. It's early Friday morning, 1:56am, and it's been a week since his encounter with the number one hero and the glow of that man's smile has finally faded enough to reveal what Midoriya had been too blinded to realize in his daze. "I didn't get anything out of that ex yakuza! He didn't tell me anything and I was too starstruck to remember before the police got there! Do you have any idea how much money I had to drop for info on that dude?"
"Probably too much," Tsukauchi mutters, busy soldering one of the more delicate pieces of his new project.
"Too much! And it took me so long just to squeeze the info out of Giran and now––!"
"Midoriya," Reo says cutting the other off and gaining his attention. "Don't you have something else to worry about?"
"What?" He asks dumbly. "What do you mean something else? Figuring out where they're keeping that girl is the only thing I should even be thinking about right now."
"Midoriya," the seventeen-year-old's tone is flat. "It's entrance exam season."
The younger boy stops pacing, staring blankly at Reo's Ingenium poster in front of him.
"So unless you decided to stop going to school altogether, which I'm sure would only serve up your suspiciousness on the Pied Piper suspect list, I think your entrance exams would be pretty important as well."
Midoriya deflates. "It's tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? What's tomorrow?" Reo sets aside his tools for a moment, turning to look at the younger boy over his shoulder. He sees Midoriya's pied eyes and that's all it takes for his words' meaning to register. "Wait what do you mean tomorrow ?! Why are you here?! Why are you running around town if your test is tomorrow?!"
The fifteen-year-old sits down carefully on the edge of the older teen's bed. He lets his head fall into his hands. "I didn't want to think about it."
This time is Reo who stands up to begin pacing. "I— wait. Is... Is this why you've been running around town so much recently?"
He nods reluctantly.
"Midoriya!"
"Can we just not talk about it please?" His words are muffled by his hands.
"No. No, listen to me. You're worried. That's fine. That's normal. But, you'll do fine tomorrow, okay? Just... Just study as much as you can, go to bed at a decent time, and... and no more vigilantism until you're done with exams!"
The boy falls further into himself, reluctantly nodding.
Reo waits for a moment before taking a gentle seat beside his friend, resting a hand on his back. "You're a smart guy Midoriya. You'll do great."
"Just call me Izuku already," the boy mutters, words muffled.
Tsukauchi laughs. "Zuku it is then."
Midoriya huffs his own laugh, nudging the other with an elbow. "Don't push it ReRe ."
Midoriya feels numb going to school that morning. His attention waxes and wanes as the hours progress. He can only pick at his lunch and completely skips out on fifth period in favor of sitting on the roof and wallowing in his thoughts.
"Do you really trust that letter?" the voice in his head hisses. "Encouraging you to apply for another department? Take the hint Deku they don't want a quirkless nobody like you at their school." It laughs, Cheshire grin glinting. "Scores don't matter. It's all about reputation and face it. Midoriya Izuku has none."
The teen sighs, leaning against the railing, staring out over the sea of gray buildings that stretch on
for miles. He wishes the voice would disappear. Wishing never gets him anywhere.
The next day it pours. Outside, the rain comes down in rivulets from the balcony above as Inko hovers around him. She runs back and forth, getting him this and that, fixing his hair, fixing is clothes. She hugs him and kisses him and gently tucks his umbrella into his hands. "You're gonna do great sweety," is what she tells him.
"You'll do awesome!" is what Reo sends.
Midoriya doesn't believe either of them.
Izuku is smart. He knows this. And, after years of training and months of vigilantism, he's strong too. But, none of that changes the fact that Midoriya Izuku is quirkless. Nothing will ever change that, not good grades, not good behavior, not good intentions, not empty prayers. He's been rejected from UA once before for his lack of power. His hopes and dreams had been so easily crushed by a few sheets of paper. What was a second time to them?
The rain lightens up to a gentle patter against his umbrella on his way to the train station, but the roaring rain picks up again as soon as he's under cover. It pelts against the train's hull and Midoriya's left to watch the raindrops race each other on the window panes. The second one pulls ahead of the first as the train pulls to a stop. He wonders which one would've won given more time.
The rain continues to pour as Midoriya pauses near the station's exist. He's not prepared to be turned away again. He doesn't know if he'd be able to take it.
"You'll be rejected and it'll break you. You won't be able to handle it. Give up now. Save yourself some pain."
Izuku doesn't think he's ever wanted to listen to the voice so badly in his life.
He doesn't though. He can't.
Rejection is terrifying. But not trying is even more so.
To his right there's a kid who stops beside him, looking out at the falling rain with a grimace. It's obvious that he doesn't have an umbrella.
"Where're you headed?" Midoriya doesn't know what makes him ask the question. The boy looks over at him in surprise, red eyes curious. "UA."
"Are you taking the gen ed. test too?"
The stranger nods, scratching at the back of his head with a sheepish, shark-toothed smile. "Yeah. I heard the entrance exam for the hero course is brutal and I'm not all that confident in my quirk so I figured I'd apply for both just in case."
Midoriya perks up at the mention of quirks. He latches onto it, uses the idea as a distraction, something to take his mind off of his impending doom. "You don't mind if I ask what kind of quirk you have, do you?"
"Uh sure," the boy scratches at this chin, "I can harden my skin, but nothin' more than that."
Midoriya nods along with him, a smile inching across his lips as he pulls himself further and further out of the darkness the fifteen-year-old had been cast himself into. "You say that like it's nothing special but that actually sounds like a really versatile quirk. Definitely great for hero work. Obviously I don't know the ins and outs of it like you do, but something like that is good for both defense and offense. It's probably not as flashy as some of the other stuff out there, but that's not really important." Thunder rumbles gently in the distance. "Plus flashy doesn't always mean user friendly. I know someone who has a really loud and flashy quirk. He can make explosions from his palms and everything and he's been really popular growing up. But now he needs hearing aids because of his quirk. I heard Present Mic had a similar situation too."
The boy frowns. "I can see what you mean."
Midoriya looks over at him, offering the teen a soft smile. "Don't doubt yourself too much. Just do the best you can and if it still isn't good enough then all you have to do is get better right?"
The other's eyes sparkle. "You know, that was really manly right then."
Izuku grins, the tense line of his shoulders finally gone. "Do you want to walk together? It'd suck to have to take the test with your clothes all drenched."
His smile is returned. "That'd be awesome! Thanks man!"
Thunder roars overhead and rain patters against the canvas of his umbrella and the pavement and the part of his shoulder he leaves sticking out so the other doesn't get wet. Conversation is hard with all the noise, but they make due until they take note of UA's looming form. Dark clouds reflect off of thousands of windows as they approach. It's an imposing building and the sky's reflection gives it the vague sense that it stretches on into Heaven.
It almost feels like it's warding him away, desperately trying to get him to turn back. But, the two strangers march forward, taking shelter beneath Midoriya's All Might umbrella. He peeks out from underneath its rim to stare up at the rain hazed outline of the school as they pass beneath it's front arch. He has to push himself not to stop and stare. Examanies eye them as they pass, some running with book bags held over their heads, others calmly walking underneath their own umbrellas.
Their stares seem to ask why he's here. He asks himself the same question.
Midoriya and the boy, Kirishima Eijirou, part ways once they get inside the building, both assigned to different testing rooms. Their separation feels like another nail in his coffin, another silent message that he doesn't belong here.
He's sent to a room with thirty-five other test takers. It's cramped. They don't have any business all being shoved into a room together for who knows how long. Midoriya wonders how many more rooms there are like this one.
There's a quiet thrum of activity around him. A girl next to him mutters quietly to herself, reciting material as a boy with a mutant in front of him viciously taps his pencil into the edge of his desk. Midoriya's own leg bounces anxiously.
How many people get into general education each year? There's forty admitted to the hero course. But what about the rest? He can't remember. His leg bounces faster.
"What does it matter?" the voice hisses. "You won't make it in. Passing isn't enough . "
And Midoriya knows that the voice is correct, knows that passing one test won't be enough to
grant him his dream. His hard work has never made a difference before. Why would it start now? His other leg begins bouncing in tandem, matching the other's quickening pace.
His hope dwindles. Then the hero Snipe walks in to begin the examination and his stomach sinks. Midoriya feels the tug of phantom cuffs against his wrists.
Now more than ever the boy gets the feeling of estrangement. He's a vigilante in a den of heroes trying to play at being what they've been since birth. He's spent all his time trying to squeeze himself into the roles that the people here were made to fill.
He is an outcast here. The words 'quirkless', 'powerless', 'weak' invade his senses. They taste sour, smell rotten. They sound like a broken piano. The strings unravel, snapping with the force of cracking whips.
The tests are passed out.
Midoriya wants the earth to swallow him up.
The exam is long and tedious. If anything, Midoriya is smart, but he often finds himself second guessing his answers out of fear. This test alone might not be enough to get him into UA, but it's his only shot. He has no other choice. This test is his last hope, his only hope.
"You'll fail," the voice hisses. Midoriya refuses to.
He can't afford to.
There's a short break sometime during testing. It allows participants enough time to use the bathroom, eat a snack, drink a drink. Midoriya doesn't think he could eat anything even if he wanted to. He does take small sips of his water though. It gives him something to do, something to focus on.
Outside the rain continues. It'd make him drowsy if not for the nervous energy flooding his system. To his left a girl quietly makes her way through a small bag of pretzels, to his right two students murmur in hushed voices.
"I heard their quirk is mind control!" Midoriya tunes into their idle conversation. Head turning slightly when he hears the word 'quirk' thrown out.
"It's just for rats though." He pauses, catching the one who'd made the comment donning a mischievous grin from the corner of his eye.
His friend lets out a low whine. "No dude! I'm being serious here! Everyone is always talking about how they've never seen them use a quirk. But, what if it's because they couldn't remember! Like, it makes so much sense! Think about it!"
"Listen, it's literally in his name. The og story of Pied Piper had him controlling rats right? You
think about it."
Midoriya freezes, tensing up in his seat. They're talking about me.
The voice in his head rears its head. "But they're not." Its maw creaks open. "No one cares about you . All they care about is Piper ."
Midoriya scowls. His reply of, I am Piper, is an obvious one.
"But are you really?" it questions. " Piper's more than just a person, don't you think? A quirkless Deku like yourself couldn't live up to the expectations behind something like that. The moment they know you you'll be discarded like the trash you are." Its laugh pounds against his skull, headache threatening to rise. It's teeth glint from the shadows, warding away anyone foolish enough to dispute its words.
The two boys continue chattering, the girl continues eating pretzels, Midoriya Izuku continues to be consumed by his own mind.
The test continues.
Midoriya feels like he's drowning.
It takes another few hours to complete the exam, though he's sure he spent an hour alone just checking his answers.
Midoriya is a smart kid, but still he worries. And still he lets his thoughts consume him. And still the rain pours outside.
He leaves his umbrella for the other boy to have, Kirishima he reminds himself. He hands it to one of the people that had assigned them room numbers and tells them what the boy looks like, tells them how hard he'll be to miss.
Midoriya lets the rain soak his clothes and weigh down his hair. He lets it splatter across his cheeks like extra freckles and stain his skin with the cold. It's a chilling, February rain and by the time he makes it to the station he's shivering.
A puddle forms at his feet on the train. He feels guilty about it. The rain drops race each other on the window and he watches to see which one will win. The one in first joins others, it grows larger, races faster. It leads the entire time. His doesn't make it to the finish line by the time his stop arrives.
It's still raining. He's still cold. Life goes on. (Midoriya doesn't know if he wants it to anymore.)
Inko isn't there when he gets home. He gets a few messages from her and Reo though, both of them asking how he thinks it went. He can't find it in himself to answer just yet.
His socks leave a trail of watery footprints on the floor as he makes his way to the bathroom. He steps into the shower still fully clothed. He can't be bothered to peel anything off while they're still soaked with late February rain. The shower weighs them down further, but it's warm and it's comforting and it almost feels like a hug if he closes his eyes long enough.
But it's also suffocating. They're too heavy, too close. He tries to tug his hoodie off, but it sticks to his skin, drags against his arms. It catches on his chin and pulls at his hair as he finally peels it off. The water is suddenly too hot on his skin and he stumbles out of the shower, socks sopping and already half falling off. He takes in a gasping breath, hair forming rivulets of water down his cheeks. They drip off the edge of his chin as he stumbles towards the sink, grabbing onto the lip of the counter.
He swipes wildly at the mirror, revealing his reflection through the gathering steam.
His face is distorted in places where water continues to cling to its surface and he can only watch himself as he pants. He ducks his head, not wanting to see the fear in his eyes.
The mirror fogs back over, hiding his face and his scars and his turmoil. The shower's still on, the steady thrumming of water falling invading his head like white noise. Midoriya sinks down into a crouch, hands still gripping the edge of the counter. He releases a shaking breath.
His sun shudders, gaseous flames flickering in and out like the breaths he's forcing himself to take. His legs are shaking, knuckles white. He feels lightheaded.
"You're not a hero." His scars ache. "You're barely a human being." He remembers coming undone, remembers being pieced back together at the hands of a masked man. "I know who you are. You are useless, quirkless, powerless "
He clamps his hands over his ears and yells. He can't be bothered to worry about the neighbors and what they'll think or what they'll whisper about when he passes them in the halls. He doesn't care, can't care. He just wants to drown it out. His cheeks are wet but he can't tell if it's from the shower or his tears. He just wants it to stop, wants it to shut up.
(He can't shut it up.)
"So, do the world a favor, won't you? And— take a swan dive off the roof."
Outside it continues to rain.
Inside the shower continues to run.
The white noise isn't enough to cover up the voice. Nothing is enough.
( He's not enough.)