Izuku was not in a good mood as he marched towards Danryoku's office.

Now, that wasn't exactly an uncommon state of mind for him-he spent a much larger percentage of his life pissed off about one thing or another than he honestly really should-but it still felt different, somehow. This wasn't his usual irritation; it was sharper, more immediate. He didn't just feel cranky about something vague or that he was powerless to change.

No, he was mad that his time with Rumi had been cut short. A master of his own feelings he most certainly wasn't, but Izuku was at least self-aware enough to realize that part.

(He also could probably guess why exactly he was wishing that they were still back in that cafe, but he'd much rather stick his head in the sand and pretend that he actually had control over his life, thank you very much.)

He was still grumbling under his breath as he knocked on the door of Danryoku's office. A moment later, he heard the man call, "Come on in!"

Maybe if he hadn't been so pissed off, Izuku would have heard the ever-so-slight twinge of laughter in his boss's voice, and run like hell in the opposite direction-which is what you did when you heard Danryoku chuckling like that. It meant only bad things for whoever was on the receiving end of whatever prank the wily old doctor had planned.

Unfortunately, Izuku was pissed off, which meant he barged through the door, closing it hard behind him just before he slammed to a stop, eyes flaring open with abrupt and abject terror.

On the other side of the door, Danryoku was sitting with a cup of gently steaming tea in his hand, eyes twinkling mischievously like the crazy old bastard he was.

"Ah, Midoriya," he said, his warm voice making him sound like a kind old grandpa instead of Izuku's fucking tormentor, "Come on in! Here, have you met my guest?"

Izuku's eyes turned towards the other chair in the office that was currently occupied; the seated figure was also daintily holding a teacup, their position unnervingly similar to Danryoku's, right down to the crossed legs and positively evil gleam in their eyes. The fact that Izuku could read his expression was something of a surprise, given that he was an approximately three-foot-tall mouse-bear-thing, but somehow, he managed it.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being introduced!" the guest chirped. "I'm Principal Nezu, of UA!"

Izuku's eyes grew even wider. He'd never met the man, but oh, had he heard the stories. Every single hero who'd ever graduated from UA had stories. Somehow, this tiny little mammal had managed to foster lingering trauma in every single one of Japan's top heroes for the past generation and change. They were all fucking terrified of him. Granted, they were all terrified of Izuku, too, so maybe they were just easily intimidated, but still.

And now the man was sitting in the office of Dr. Sora Danryoku, wearing a literally identical expression of chuckling mischief. Great. Just fucking great.

In the same way he'd once forced himself to play nice with asshole professors in medical school, Izuku took a deep breath, and shoved all of his irritation into a box for later.

"Hello, Principal," he said cordially. "It's nice to finally meet you. I wasn't aware that you and Dr. Danryoku knew each other."

Having hopped up from his seat, Nezu shook Izuku's hand. "Oh, yes," he said, still looking amused. "Sora and I are old friends!"

Izuku must have looked more off-put by that response than he intended to, because Danryoku chuckled as Nezu returned to his seat.

"Nezu's a former patient of mine from way back in the day," he explained. "We kept in touch over the years."

Nezu nodded, gesturing to the rather distinctive scar running over one of his eyes. "I quite literally owe him my life," he confirmed, "and it turned out we have quite a bit in common, even beyond that!"

"Well, that explains why their body language is literally identical," Izuku thought to himself. "Well, actually, it doesn't explain shit, but I'm honestly too scared to know the answer, so I'm just not gonna ask."

Electing not to respond, Izuku took a seat next to Nezu, and asked, "So. Can you please explain why I'm here now?"

Nezu and Danryoku exchanged a glance, and Danryoku nodded, concluding whatever silent conversation that Izuku apparently wasn't privy to.

"We were hoping to discuss your patient, Midoriya," Danryoku explained. "And as for why Nezu is here for that conversation…"

Nezu twisted the teacup in his hands, looking more serious now as he said, "Miss Rumi is…a former student of mine. A star student, at that. I understand that she is a top hero in her own right, and would probably not take kindly to her old school still being involved in her life, but it is difficult, in this line of work, to not worry for your students."

Izuku raised an eyebrow at that; even if he wasn't a cynic when it came to people-or whatever Nezu was-he knew better than to believe the principal was telling him everything. This was Principal Nezu of UA, after all; he was damn near the smartest person in Japan, and knew it. But Izuku also figured that there wasn't much harm in indulging him; he'd dealt with heroes for years now, and knew that the best way to deal with their idiosyncrasies was usually just to play along. It got them out of your hair faster.

"Fine," he muttered, before turning back to Danryoku. "She's doing…well, I suppose."

Danryoku frowned. "Forgive me for being frank," he said, "But I wouldn't call that a ringing endorsement."

Izuku sighed, still aware of Nezu's pitch-black eyes watching him. "Honestly, I'm not giving one," he admitted. "But she's definitely not encountering medical difficulties, at least. From that perspective, she's recovering faster and more completely than any other patient I've ever had. She has her new day-to-day prosthetics-which I'll probably still need to fine-tune at some point, but still-and she's working on building her strength back up. But personally, and emotionally…she's got some shit to work through, I think."

Danryoku hummed thoughtfully. "How much shit?" he asked, cheerily reminding Izuku just how odd he was as a boss.

In response, Izuku could only shrug. "I'm not a psychologist," he replied, "not that I think one would help much, honestly. All I can say is that I don't think she had the healthiest mindset before she lost half her limbs-and now she's having to come to terms with the fact that she has to climb the mountain all over again. I've done my best to help-and I have, I think-but she still has moments where she's convinced she's useless."

"Much like yourself?" Danryoku asked. His expression was a jumble, sad and knowing and wise and a little mischievous all at once.

Izuku's eyes narrowed, jerking his head towards Nezu. He was willing to tolerate having the UA principal in the room for this; he had no intention of spilling his whole life story to the man. Danryoku nodded slowly, agreeing to Izuku's silent demand.

"Regardless of our…parallels," Izuku growled, "I think it mostly just boils down to the usual hero bullshit, just cranked up to eleven because of how, well, intense she usually is. She's never really had to deal with self-doubt before, and now it's constantly hitting her in the face."

Nezu coughed meaningfully at the words "usual hero bullshit." Odd, how easily he evaded people trying to read his expressions at times, and how much meaning he could pack into a cough at others.

Izuku turned to glare at him, eyes hard. "Oh, don't give me that," he scoffed. "I've treated enough heroes without limbs or eyes or organs that I'm done admiring your Plus Ultra bullshit. If Rumi hadn't gone to your school, maybe she wouldn't have gone into that fucking basement. Maybe she'd still have her limbs!"

He expected Nezu to flinch, or get angry. He didn't expect the walking teddy bear to fix him with a gaze so cool, so knowing, that it froze Izuku to his chair.

"Doctor Midoriya," Nezu said casually, in a voice like a bottomless well, "Do you really believe what you are saying?"

Izuku's eyes hardened. "I wouldn't have said it otherwise," he shot back.

Nezu gave no reaction. "Then allow me to correct you," he replied. "We do not teach our students to sacrifice themselves. No hero school does. That impulse-that heroic drive-is something that each and every one of them comes to us with."

Izuku gave a hollow, bitter laugh. "Oh, so it's society's fault, not yours? Spare me the bullshit," he snapped. "That's a fucking dodge. If they come to you like that, why don't you try and change their minds before they get fucking killed?"

At long last, that got a reaction out of Nezu: a dry arch of one eyebrow, an expression so innocuous and yet so scathing it could have boiled water.

"Doctor Midoriya," he said, "You have been in close contact with Rumi Usagiyama for some time now. Do you believe that there is a being on this planet who could possibly change her mind on something so utterly central to who she is?"

That stopped Izuku dead in his tracks, because he was right, damn him. Rumi was more fucking stubborn than anyone he'd ever met. Even now, struggling with herself, she was still utterly resolute, still unbreakable. He couldn't even imagine how she'd been as a teenager.

Seeing that his words had struck home, Nezu followed up relentlessly. He continued, "I know about you, Hero Wrangler. I know that you're every bit as stubborn and determined as the heroes you treat. That requires a very special sort of person to do. Some would say it requires every bit as much of a heroic spirit as entrance to UA does."

Izuku jolted at that. The ghost of a long-dead dream stung, just for a moment, and like a horse stung by a fly, he lashed out.

"You do not know me," he growled through gritted teeth. "Don't you dare pretend like you do."

Nezu met his eyes. "You're right," he agreed. "I do not know you, Doctor Midoriya. All I know are your actions-and they speak far louder than your words. You save people who think their lives are over. You put them back on the path they want to follow. You heal, you repair, you save-even those who don't want to be saved. And you sacrifice yourself to do it, if necessary."

As he spoke, Nezu nodded ever so slightly towards Izuku's arm, and Izuku went stiff. He knew. Somehow, this man Izuku had never met in his life knew him. It was a horrible feeling.

Weakly, desperately trying to change the subject, he demanded, "Why the hell did you come here, anyway?"

Nezu smiled dryly. Setting down his empty teacup, he replied, "Why, to see a good friend, of course. But also to make an offer. I would like for you and Miss Rumi to visit UA. We have people who have experienced the same things she is currently going through; we are heroes, and understand the struggles a hero trying to come back from grievous injury goes through. You could say that we're versed in…what did you call it? Oh, yes: "hero bullshit."

Izuku winced at his own words coming out of Nezu's mouth, so cheerily it almost-almost-didn't feel like mockery. He said nothing as Nezu continued, "But well aside from the fact that we wish to help Miss Rumi, I believe we can offer you something as well, Doctor Midoriya. As you might be aware, UA has one of the best hero support laboratories in the world, and I infer that you are still struggling to design prosthetics for Rumi that will be capable of holding up while she is in combat. I would like to offer our resources, laboratory, and expertise; they are at your disposal."

That made Izuku stop and think. It was a serious offer, and one that was perfectly calculated to boot. Nezu's "inference" was dead-on; Izuku was still struggling to figure out how any prosthetic limb could possibly be made to withstand the level of punishment Rumi would subject it to in combat. That difficulty was compounded by the fact that he didn't have a machine shop or production equipment himself, nor did the hospital; they contracted out to one of the support companies in Japan, and Izuku had to constantly navigate the process of sending out a design, fielding questions from the company, quibbling over every little detail, and finally getting back a workable model-a process that sometimes took weeks. That was alright when he was adapting a proven, generalist civilian model like the one he used himself; for combat prosthetics, where the only way to get it right would be in constant trial-and-error live testing, with failure meaning that the damn thing would break into a thousand tiny pieces, the weeks-long wait every time he made a tiny design change would quickly add months to Rumi's recovery time. Months he knew that Japan simply couldn't afford right now, with Shigaraki and all his monsters on the loose.

Having access to UA's design labs and resources would make designing and building Rumi's prosthetics so much easier. But even then…Izuku found himself hesitating.

"Why do you care, anyway?" he asked as Nezu stood from his chair, apparently preparing to leave. "Rumi isn't even your student anymore."

Nezu raised an eyebrow as he turned back to regard Izuku with that same inscrutable look. "A teacher never forgets, Doctor Midoriya," he replied. "Once a student, always a student. But beyond that…like I said, UA knows that we cannot dissuade our greatest students from the courses they choose; the very stubbornness and determination that makes them great makes teaching them very difficult indeed. But we know that if you cannot stop someone from doing something that toes the line between bravery and foolhardiness…then you support them wholeheartedly, and give them every single advantage and gift you can to give them the best chance possible. I am confident that, sooner or later, Miss Rumi will return to heroics, with you by her side. Therefore, I consider it in the best interest of both UA and Japan to make sure that she does so as quickly, completely, and successfully as possible. Good day to both of you; I hope to see you at UA soon."

With that, Nezu waved farewell to Izuku and Danryoku, and slipped out the door on whisper-quiet padded feet, leaving Izuku feeling like he'd just been completely and utterly outplayed in every way. And that was before the magnitude of what he'd just done came crashing down on him.

"Holy shit," he muttered after a few moments of silence. "I really am an idiot."

Danryoku chuckled. "I don't know about that," he replied good-naturedly. "Nezu loathes idiots, and he quite liked you."

Izuku shot him a skeptical look. "I spent most of that meeting shouting at him and calling him a shitty teacher who couldn't protect his students," he pointed out.

Danryoku just grinned. "Trust me," he said, pouring himself another cup of tea. "He was having the time of his life. If you'd pissed him off, that conversation would have gone very differently."

Izuku blinked. "How differently?" he asked.

"Well, for starters, he wouldn't have made that offer," Danryoku replied, reaching for Izuku's empty cup. He tried to wave the older man off, but Danryoku simply gave him an amused look and refilled it anyway. "And second…I'd probably have to call someone in here to scrape bits of you off the floor."

Izuku nearly spat his new tea back out. Setting the cup back down, he sighed, "Has anyone ever told you that there are some things you shouldn't joke about?"

Danryoku raised an eyebrow. "Many times," he said meaningfully. "Which is why I wasn't joking."

Izuku's eyes narrowed yet again. He fixed his gaze on Danryoku's face, scanning for any sign that his boss was lying to his face yet again. Eventually, he gave up; the old man had a poker face that could have fooled God.

"Whatever," he decided. "Anyway…do you think I should take that offer?"

Danryoku looked at him skeptically. "I know for a fact you're not an idiot, son," he replied. "Which is what you'd have to be to turn that down."

Izuku sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that," he muttered. "But you're right. It's perfect. I just don't relish having to go to a hero school."

"Why not?" Danryoku asked.

"Because," Izuku replied, "It's full of baby heroes. Those are the worst kind."

Once more, Danryoku laughed, while Izuku finished his tea and stood from his chair.

"Well, guess I'd better go tell my patient we're going on a field trip," Izuku said as he headed for the door.

Danryoku said nothing; he simply grinned to himself as the door of his office swung closed.

"I wonder how long it'll take him to stop thinking of her as his patient," he thought. "If I had to guess…a week at most."

Rumi had just finished the most punishing workout she'd had in months when she heard her phone buzz. When she picked it up, she saw that it was Izuku calling her, and her heart jumped, then soared.

She still wondered why it did that every time she so much as thought about him; by all rights, she should really just spend most of her time being irritated with him and his shitty attitude. Instead, she found herself smiling warmly as she finished munching on a carrot-Izuku had only found most of her stashes, not all of them, not that she'd ever actually, y'know, tell him that-then answered the call.

"Hey, Doc," she said cheerily. "What's up?"

On the other end, Izuku sighed. "I thought I told you to stop calling me Doc," he grumbled.

She grinned to herself. "You did," she agreed playfully. "But I didn't feel like listening."

There was a long-suffering sigh, and Rumi chuckled to herself as she imagined Izuku pinching the bridge of his nose with frustration at her. "Anyway," he said eventually, "I just got out of that meeting I had to go to."

Rumi nodded. "Anything I should know?" she asked.

"Eh, it was mostly just boring doctor shit," Izuku replied-but she could hear a grin on his face, one she already knew meant nothing but trouble. "Although, I did meet an old friend of yours."

She blinked, confused. "Who?" she asked.

"Principal Nezu," he replied. "We had a lovely conversation about you."

Rumi's eyes went wide. Her ears, which had been standing tall and proud, flattened against the side of her head, wilting like flowers in a drought. She twitched crazily, scanning the room as if the principal might suddenly appear at any moment.

"Wait, what?" she hissed. "How? Why? What did you say to him?"

"Jeez, Rumi," Izuku muttered, sounding surprised. "Why such a violent reaction?"

She snorted, though there was very little humor in it. "Uh, hello?" she shot back. "It's Principal Nezu? The craziest son of a bitch in Japan? He's fucking terrifying! I still have nightmares from when I was in high school!"

Izuku just laughed, like the callous jerk she knew he was. "He's three feet tall, Rumi," he said. "How bad could he be?"

"Listen, that fucking teddybear scares the shit out of me, and I am not ashamed about it," Rumi snapped. "Now, tell me what he said so I know if I need to panic or not."

Instead, Izuku audibly fought back laughter for nearly twenty seconds before he finally got control of himself. "Alright, alright," he muttered finally. "Well, it was actually pretty simple: he wants the two of us to come to UA tomorrow."

Rumi…had not expected that. "Wait…seriously?" she asked. "Why?"

"Hell if I know," Izuku answered. "He said something about how he thinks the people there might be able to help you somehow."

"Huh," Rumi said, mostly to herself. That sounded…well, a lot like Nezu, despite her (entirely justified, if you asked her) fear of the man-bear-thing. Weird, impossible to follow, and yet somehow not a terrible idea. Maybe. "What do you think?"

Once more, Izuku hummed for a moment, before answering, "I think it's worth a shot. They also offered me the use of their support design lab, which will make designing your combat prosthetics a lot easier. And besides, I think it'll be good to get you out of the house more; you shouldn't spend all your time cooped up indoors now that you can go outside again."

Rumi found herself nodding along. "Well, alright then," she replied. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
There was a moment's silence. Then, Izuku asked in a suspicious voice, "Are you alright, Rumi?"

"Uh…yeah?" she replied, rather confused. She genuinely was alright, too; today had been a good day. She'd been having more of those recently, now that she could go outside without being stared at constantly. "Why do you sound like you don't believe me?"

Once more, she heard him hesitate. Finally, he admitted, "Well, fair enough. I guess I'm just surprised that it was so easy to convince you. I thought I'd have to argue a lot harder. You're oddly agreeable today."

"Oi!" she shot back, trying not to grin, "I can be agreeable when I want to be!"

Izuku snorted. "Sure you can," he said. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, Rumi."

She nodded. "See you tomorrow," she agreed. A moment later, Izuku hung up, and she lowered her phone.

Huh. Her heart was beating pretty fast…and she swore her cheeks were a little too warm. That was odd. Maybe she should get it checked out.

Luckily, she did know a pretty good doctor.