Chapter Two:

The Eighth was a tall, skeletally thin man with a lean face and brilliant blue eyes. His blond hair hung shoulder-length, bristling despite attempts to clip it straight. This was the first man Izuku had seen almost as tall as his father, with even bigger hands. He looked like an interesting person, with an interesting life marked on the lines of his face. Izuku immediately wanted to know more about him. The Eighth stepped out of Hisashi's office (and Izuku quietly made note of the fact that the way in and out of this world might be located in his father's office.) The new tutor bowed his head to Izuku and said, "Pleased to meet you, young master. My name is Toshinori Yagi."

Izuku bowed in return. "Oh, just call me Izuku. Everyone else does."

Toshinori laughed, deep from his belly. "Izuku with the character for nine? What a funny coincidence."

Emerging from his office, Hisashi snapped, "Your laugh is too loud, idiot. No one said anything remotely funny."

Sheepishly, Toshinori hung his head. "I'm sorry."

Izuku felt a flash of anger. What call had there been for his father to act so rude? But he didn't say anything. It always caused trouble when he criticized his father. Especially if he spoke up to defend someone else, then the other person would receive the backlash.

Hisashi's tone turned even meaner. "You can teach—oh, languages, I suppose. It's not as if you have the intelligence for a more useful class." At these words, Toshinori's head sagged further. Hisashi gestured at Izuku. "Show Eighth around and introduce him to the others. I don't want to look at him." With that, he stormed back into his office.

Izuku wondered why on earth his father had brought Eighth here if he despised the man so much. Turning to Toshinori, he said, "I'm sorry about him." He hesitated. "Pardon me if I'm intruding, but did anything happen between you two?"

"We only just met today." Toshinori shook his head. "I'm not sure why I made such a poor first impression. I would hate to lose this job so soon." His forehead wrinkled. Slowly and with confusion, he said, "I don't have anywhere else to go."

No one did. It seemed odd to imply going somewhere else was even possible. Izuku was curious to talk to this stranger more. But he had a task first. "Follow me, I'll take you to meet my other tutors. They're all lovely people. I'm sure you'll get along with them."

First, Izuku led Toshinori straight to the dining room, because he knew what his teachers had planned. As soon as he opened the door, they all jumped out from under the table and shouted, "Surprise!"

The dining room had been decorated with streamers and balloons. The table held punch and soda. A huge vanilla cake sitting in the middle had the number eight in yellow frosting.

Toshinori gasped. "Oh, you shouldn't have."

Yoichi grinned. "It's tradition! My name is Yoichi. I'm the First, so I'll assign your room and show you the ropes." Leaning over, he whispered to Izuku, "Is big brother coming?"

"He went back into his office before I could tell him about the party," Izuku whispered back. "I don't think he would want to attend, and it's probably for the best. He seemed in a real bad mood." A glance of mutual understanding passed between uncle and nephew. They were the people who coddled and appeased Hisashi whenever he got into moods, deflecting the hostility away from the others.

Toshinori went around introducing himself. In return, he received bows, handshakes, and in Banjo's case a backslap.

Nana stood very still, staring at Toshinori as if she'd seen a ghost. A single tear fell from her eye.

Toshinori stopped in front of her. "Ma'am? Is something wrong?"

"Call me Nana," she said hoarsely. Then she pulled him into a hug. Tears streamed down her face. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm like this."

"It's okay." Toshinori put an arm around her back. "I feel quite happy to see you, too."

"Is Nana all right?" Izuku whispered. Her tone was happy, as if crying tears of joy, but something in her eyes seemed very sad.

Yoichi shrugged. "En got the same way when Nana first came here. That's how it seems to work, the last of us always emotionally reacting to the new one. Eh, maybe it's jealousy over not being the baby of the family. I can attest that being the youngest brother is the superior position." He grabbed a cup off the table and poured himself punch.

After eating, Banjo brought out games. In the chaos, Izuku had no time to talk to Toshinori alone. But he knew his chance would come at his next lesson.

Yoichi didn't arrive at the usual time the next morning. Izuku woke up on his own and dressed alone. When he heard voices in the hallway, he cracked his door and peeked out.

Hisashi loomed over Yoichi, growling, "I found the blond buffoon in my game room. Touching my demon king figurine."

"He got lost, big brother." Yoichi sighed. "This place is big, and he doesn't know his way around. Please don't be too hard on him."

Hisashi huffed. "Don't let him poke his oversized nose into my private space again. I'd rather not see him at all. You insisted on having them, little brother. You look after him." Whirling around, he stormed off.

Yoichi opened the door. "Oh, Izuku, you're awake. Sorry I'm late. This morning, Toshinori got lost trying to find the bathroom. I suppose you overheard big brother's fit."

Izuku asked, "What did Dad mean? Did you ask for me to have a new tutor?"

"No, actually, I didn't even know that was a possibility. We're always happy to have new people, they just seem to pop up. I would have asked if I'd known I could." Yoichi's brow creased. "I have no idea what Hisashi was talking about."

Izuku would have been annoyed if his uncle had known about the existence of other people outside their world and kept it from him, but Yoichi looked sincerely confused. It would not be entirely out of character for Hisashi to randomly blame things on other people, so Izuku set his confusion aside. Hopefully, he asked, "Can we eat breakfast with Eighth?"

"I showed him to the kitchen," Yoichi said. "I still need to fix your hair. If we hurry, we might be able to catch him before he finishes."

But when they arrived, Toshinori was already putting his dishes in the sink. Izuku cursed Yoichi's overly long hair routines.

Yoichi called, "You can put the dishes in the cupboard over the sink. They'll be taken care of."

"Oh, thank you, I couldn't find a dishwasher." Toshinori turned around. A cup slipped from his hand. He grabbed it lightning-fast, a green spark dancing down his arm. But in the process, he dropped his plate. "Ack!" With what could only be described as supernatural speed, Toshinori lunged and grabbed the plate, moving it around to catch the falling silverware. But at the last moment, he lost his grip on his cup. It went sailing across the room.

Izuku caught the cup and placed it back on the plate. "Here you go."

Toshinori grinned. "My hero!"

Izuku blinked. "Uh, like the protagonist of a book? I think you're more like a main character, with your amazing reflexes."

"No, a hero as in someone who helps someone else out," Toshinori said. "It's a compliment."

"Oh." Izuku paused, rolling the word around in this mind. "See, you taught me a new word. You're doing great already. Don't let my father get you down."

Yoichi added, "Yeah, Hisashi isn't even home that much."

"What a relief—oh, pardon my rudeness." Toshinori put his dishes in the cupboard. "I'm sure Hisashi will warm to me after I show my competence."

Yoichi said, "Yes, my brother was hostile to all the others at first. He's a real homebody. He doesn't like new people in his space. He'll become accustomed you."

Izuku privately thought the most Toshinori could hope for was being ignored, but did not say it.

"Thanks," Toshinori said, then headed off before Izuku could strike up a conversation.

Yoichi put a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Eighth wanted to speak to Nana again, then the others will be giving him a tour. You'll get him all to yourself at your lesson."

Each of Izuku's lessons had been shortened slightly, to make room for his new eighth time slot. But they'd never felt so long. He kept glancing at his watch all day.

Music, the last lesson, seemed to drag the most. After Izuku's fifth mistake, Nana said, "Your mind doesn't seem to be on the piano."

Flushing, Izuku lifted his hands off the keys. "Sorry."

"I completely understand." She smiled warmly. "All of us are eager to become acquainted with Toshinori, too. We so rarely get anything new in this place. The others have been badgering him with questions about himself all day. He fits right in. I would swear, I feel like I've already known him for a long time."

Izuku asked, "Did Eighth say anything about having…powers?"

"Pardon me?" She tilted her head.

Izuku felt foolish. "Uh, I mean, I was wondering. If something like superspeed could be real. Specifically, superspeed with…green sparks."

Nana laughed. "You really do take after your uncle! He's always insisted that superpowers must exist in some parallel universe. Even your father gave me an odd speech about fantasy becoming reality once. But your father is the only person who can use superpowers in real life. It would be impossible for anyone else. I've never seen the master use speed, either. That one must not exist."

"Right." Izuku scratched his head. He'd probably imagined what he'd seen at breakfast. All day he'd been fantasizing up exciting backstories for his mysterious new teacher.

Nana waved at the door. "Why don't you run along to your next lesson? I don't think I'll teach you much more today with your head off in the clouds."

"Oh, thank you!" Izuku leapt up, hugged her, and ran for the door. He stopped in the doorway. "Uh, where is Eighth's class?"

Toshinori taught in a round tower room with a window overlooking the crashing ocean. There was a desk for Izuku, a larger corner desk with tall shelves, and a blackboard. Looking up from a textbook, Toshinori said, "My apologies, young Izuku. I haven't had time to prepare a proper lesson plan."

"I know, the others have been keeping you busy. Seventh told me." Izuku took a seat.

"Seventh?" Toshinori's brow furrowed.

"Nana. I call my teachers by numbers." Izuku hesitated, reluctant to admit Hisashi had ordered it. He didn't want Toshinori to feel even more unwelcome than he probably already did. "Uh, it's a bit of an inside joke."

"Ah, because we all have the Japanese characters for numbers in our names." Toshinori chuckled. "Would that make you the Ninth?"

Izuku had never had a nickname before. He found that he liked it. "You can call me that, if you want." He added, "Not in front of my father, though. Dad wouldn't appreciate the humor."

"I got that impression," Toshinori said dryly. He cleared his throat. "I thought we would start out with me teaching you a few simple greetings in English."

Izuku learned how to say "hi" and "goodbye" and "nice to meet you" in this strange new language. Then he asked, "Why do we have more than one language?"

A tad nervously, Toshinori said, "Once you get further along in your studies, you'll be able read books and watch television in English. Some materials haven't been translated yet, and others are better appreciated in the original language."

"I didn't mean to question the validity of your lessons." Izuku looked at his hands. "I'm just trying to figure out why more than one language exists in a world with only nine people." Ten now, he realized, counting his dad. "Wouldn't it just confuse communication? In the Lord of the Rings universe, there are different languages because different races exist with millions of people. It would make sense for people spread out to start using different words. But why do we have more than one language? Are there more people outside this house?"

He'd started mumbling at the end, and Toshinori had leaned closer to listen. A frown drew lines on the teacher's face. "That's a good question. I…I don't know. Ugh, I feel useless as a teacher."

This was much further than Izuku had gotten with his other seven tutors. They would always immediately deny the possibility of any world existing outside this house, despite the plethora of evidence in books and Hisashi's frequent absences. Izuku asked, "Where did you come from, before you came here? Did you know other people?"

"I don't know," Toshinori repeated. "My very first memory is your father, looming over me in his office with a rather unpleasant smile. I'd assumed I was created at that moment."

Izuku persisted, "But someone must have taught you to speak more than one language, just like you're teaching me now. Uncle Yoichi has taught me words from books. Though I can't remember being a baby, I'm pretty sure I learned my first words from my teachers."

"What you say makes sense, but I don't recall ever having a teacher." Toshinori's eyes filled with determination. "I'll work on finding answers for you. It's my duty."

"That sounds good, but be careful." Izuku fidgeted. "My father doesn't like questions. Anything that you say to the others will get back to him. We'll have to be careful."

"We?"

"You'll need me along." Izuku flashed a grin. "I know this place better than you. And I can keep you from getting in trouble. If anything goes wrong, it was all me. My dad knows I'm going through a trouble-making stage."

"I wouldn't let you take all the blame." Toshinori fidgeted. "Are we likely to get into trouble?"

Izuku considered. "The worst that ever happened to me was having a book taken away before I was done reading it. Once Fifth broke one of Dad's demon king figurines, and Dad acted like it was the start of the apocalypse, but he just yelled and then demanded that Fifth not appear in his presence for a year. I'd argue that's more a reward than a punishment. We're all necessary people in this place. No one can leave. So we all have to live with each other, even my father who doesn't much like anyone outside his family. Uncle Yoichi would never let Dad go too far, anyway. So I'm not too worried."

Toshinori shrugged. "Then I won't worry, either. It wouldn't be like a hero to shy away from danger."

"You said that word again," Izuku said.

"I like heroes." Toshinori smiled. "Have you ever read any superhero comics?"

"I don't know what those are," Izuku admitted. "What's a superhero? Someone who helps a lot of people?"

"Yes, but the word comes from superpowers. There's an entire genre of stories about heroes with supernatural abilities. Oh, maybe you haven't heard about them because they originate in English." Toshinori launched into a fascinating explanation about a hero named Superman. He even tried to draw Superman on the blackboard, although it wasn't a very good rendition according to him. "I'm not an art teacher," he said with a rueful smile.

Izuku squirmed in his seat. "I'd love to read a Superman comic. What if we made that into your next lesson plan? You can get one of the comics and translate it with me."

"And you'll learn English that way," Toshinori said. "We should start with a TV show, spoken is easier than written. You can learn from the subtitles. I like that idea. It would be a way to make the learning fun, and give it purpose, since I'm the only English speaker here."

"Exactly!"

"Hmm, should we start with old heroes or ones with quirks?"

"Quirks? A personality quirk?" Izuku asked.

"It's another name for a superpower, but they're real—" Toshinori's face twisted as if under strain. "…really…I don't know where I was going with that. Quirk is considered a more polite word to use in modern times. I think?"

"I guess I'll err on the side of politeness even if you're not sure." Izuku shrugged. "Quirk, what a neat word."

Toshinori asked, "How should we start our investigation?"

"I don't know." Izuku bit his lip. He'd already explored this place top to bottom, except his father's locked office. "But I'll figure out a plan by our next lesson." He winked. "It will be my homework."

As he'd promised, Hisashi was present for dinner twice in a row. This time, only three places were set at the table. Hisashi said, "I thought it would be nice to have a dinner with just family."

As far as Izuku was concerned, all his tutors were family. But he didn't argue the point, because he assumed the tutors would have a more pleasant dinner on their own when they could speak with each other. Besides, he saw his teachers every day whereas his father's visits had been a rare treat lately.

Izuku took a seat. Yoichi was already sitting. Plates of steaming hot teriyaki chicken sat before them. As usual, Hisashi asked, "How was your day?" (Father never answered questions about his own day. He did not like to be questioned.)

Smiling, Izuku said, "Language class was fun. I can greet you in English now: Hello!"

Hisashi snorted. "Your accent is atrocious."

Izuku's smile fell off his face. "It's only my first class." Yoichi kicked his brother under the table, hard enough to send a resounding thunk throughout the room.

"No, no, ducky, I didn't mean it like that." Hisashi waved his hands frantically. "I was casting aspirations on your teacher's ability, not you. Here, I'll show you the correct pronunciation."

Crossing his arms, Izuku said, "It's not Eighth's fault I haven't become fluent in one day."

"Yeah, give him a chance, big brother," Yoichi said.

"Oh, I'm giving the blond buffoon a chance to be useful," Hisashi muttered, a nasty smirk twisting his features. He rang a bell. For the first time, Izuku noticed the black bell with a demon's face on top. It had never been at the dinner table before.

Toshinori entered wearing a white apron. "You called, master?"

Hisashi ordered, "Refill my drink."

"Yes, master." Toshinori left.

Izuku gaped. "Dad, what's going on?"

Yoichi put his head in his hands. "You didn't exactly warm to the others right away, but you never had such an enormous problem with them. Is it because Eighth is taller than you?"

"He's not!" Hisashi hissed. "I measured him without the hair tufts."

Toshinori returned with a water pitcher and topped off Hisashi's mostly full glass. Leaning back in his chair, Hisashi smirked. "Ah, this the life."

"You should leave my dad to his idiocy and go have dinner with the others," Izuku hissed.

A big smile on his face, Toshinori said, "Not to worry, young Izuku. This is my job."

"It's really not," Yoichi said. "You're in charge of foreign language, and my brother is on a power trip."

Hisashi shrugged. "Eighth should do better at teaching if he doesn't want to be demoted to waiter."

Izuku saw a chance to redirect the subject. "Oh, by the way, Eighth and I need some materials for class. We're going to focus on translating fun stories. Could you get us an English Superman DVD with subtitles?"

"Superman?" The joy wiped off Hisashi's face, replaced by the angry mask of a demon king.

"I've…heard that word before…super…he…" Yoichi doubled-over, clutching his head.

"Did you tell my son?" Hisashi whirled on Toshinori. "But how could you? It's impossible."

Izuku thought fast. He didn't want to get Toshinori in trouble or get more books banned. "Dad, I said I wanted a super good DVD. What are you talking about?"

"You said Superman, and your uncle reacted," Hisashi insisted.

Yoichi groaned again at the S-word. Toshinori knelt down next to him, asking, "Are you all right? Do we have any Aspirin?"

Izuku insisted, "No, you said that weird word and you're continuing to say it! Stop hurting Uncle Yoichi!"

Hisashi turned, taking in his brother's appearance. Yoichi bent over, sweating and chest heaving. "Oh, Yoichi. You look awful." He placed a hand on his little brother's forehead. "Feverish. I'll get you to bed, and bring you dinner there." He shook his head. "Ugh, the blond buffoon is making me paranoid. I must have heard wrong, like last dinner." Hisashi scooped Yoichi up in his arms. The younger brother was limp and pale. "Izuku, we can have dinner together tomorrow. I need to look after your uncle tonight." He carried Yoichi out of the room.

Izuku and Toshinori were left staring at each other. Clearing his throat, Toshinori said, "I'm sorry, I had no idea a mere hero cartoon would provoke such a strong reaction."

"It's not your fault." Izuku shrugged. "I'm starting to realize my dad has some problem with the word hero. I guess we shouldn't bring it up around him. It wouldn't be the first time he took away my books over the wrong question. I'm not sure why my uncle freaked out, but sometimes he gets headaches."

Toshinori looked over his shoulder. "Can we do anything to help?"

"My father will already be fussing over Uncle Yoichi until it drives him crazy. The last thing Uncle Yoichi would want would be us fussing, too. He says Dad enjoys caretaking a little too much." Izuku stood up. "Let's go eat dinner with the others, or invite them to come here. We've got plenty of food—it would be a shame for it to all go to waste."

"Agreed. It smells great."

"Next time Dad tries to boss you around, you can just ignore him. He can be a bit of a bully. It's not a good idea to let him have his way or he'll keep pushing."

Twisting his hands, Toshinori said, "I didn't mind helping. Even if the boss is a bit of a jerk, I don't want to lose my job on the first day."

Izuku snorted. "Oh, he can't get rid of you. If Dad could, he'd make everyone leave except me and Uncle Yoichi. He prefers it to be just family. But no one can leave this place. Not even if we want to."

It was a simple fact in Izuku's mind, an undeniable truth for as long as he could remember. Yet Toshinori looked absolutely horrified.

"What's wrong?" Izuku asked. "Do you…have somewhere else to be?"

"I don't know," Toshinori admitted, and that seemed to be the answer to both questions.

Author's Note: This chapter comes with another art commission from Kore-Arts (tumblr/(ko-fi). All for One looks delightfully suspicious while "looking after" Yoichi. Delete the spaces to get the tumblr link:
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kore-arts/733538917394087936/eight-tutors-chapter-1-katydid