Aim to Pass... through the Ropes:

Mera takes a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke settle in his lungs and the ash in the base of his throat before exhaling deeply and closing his eyes behind the cloud. "Coffee." He says, snatching a cup from a nearby intern and throwing back several mouthfuls before he faces the subject of his ire. "Do you want to run that by me again, Nanami?"

Nanami remains professionally impassive, though the crease in her brow is enough to make her appear more upset than she actually feels. "Ryoya Harushi has requested to leave our program."

Mera's eye twitched and he pulled his cigarette up for another long pull. "...I see. Is there any reason as to why?"

"He refused to give one, however, Bang Shishigami and Zeku have noted his strange behavior recently."

"The President will want to see him."

Nanami nods gravely. "I know." Poor kid, she thinks. No one simply leaves the HPSC. You may distance yourself publicly, take a few steps back from the main organization and working hours, but they always keep tabs on you. It's a painful lesson that she herself had to learn. "He's heading there now."

With his hands in his pocket, and his dark, circular sunglasses on, Ryoya walks into the HPSC's president's office with a blank expression and relaxed body. The first thing he notices is that the woman isn't alone, not that he is surprised by that.

"Agent Loki." The middle-aged woman greets with a composed, steeled expression when the door closes behind him. To her left stands Hawks, the number three pro hero in Japan with his usual care-free, lackadaisical nature on full display. He doesn't say anything, but shoots the boy a soft smile with a pair of finger guns.

To her right, a small girl who couldn't have been a day over thirteen years old with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. She wore a maroon dress with a matching maroon top hat, but her most striking features lay in her arms, which were less of arms and more of long, thin, metal rods with three mirroring feather-like red eyes on each appendage. They were long - long enough to drag on the floor - and were ended with two cartoonishly large white gloves. She tilts her head down at him and pulls out a cigar from... somewhere.

"Madam President." Ryoya drawls, lazily looking at the other two. "Hawks. Peacock. Quite the fanfare."

"Remove your sunglasses." Madam President demands sharply. "You know the rules."

Ryoya does, and reluctantly takes his glasses off and hangs them on the collar of his shirt. Only a few seconds, but Visionary has seen enough. Golden eyes connect with silver ones.

"Good. Now, I've heard that you've formally put into to be released from our program."

If Ryoya can feel the tension and disdain in the room, he doesn't acknowledge it. "I have."

"And may I ask why?"

"I've seen enough." Comes a calm reply and a casual shrug.

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Hawks hides his chuckle with a few well timed coughs, while Peacock more boisterously giggles.

"Pftt, good one, kid."

Madam President is not amused if the vein on her forehead is any indication. "Hawks."

Hawks shrugs his shoulders and stretches his wings. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"Why pretend when you can just not be here?" When Hawks gives no response, Madam President turns her attention back to Ryoya. He's calm and controlled. Almost far too comfortable given the situation. It rubs her the wrong way, in all honesty, but she supposes she helped to create the monster before her. "Do you take this to be a joke, boy?" She says flatly. "Because I do not. You have exactly five minutes to explain yourself or your request shall be voided."

The jovial atmosphere of the room quickly shifts. "I've seen enough," Ryoya repeats. "My whole life I've always been on the fence about this idea of heroics and what heroism actually means. I've seen what I needed to see over these past five months to know that heroics aren't for me. I believe I've learned everything you guys can teach me, and I'm grateful for that, don't get me wrong. But I'm not the person you seem to think I am."

Madam President says nothing immediately, so Ryoya uses the split second to take stock of the situation. He's seen enough, after all. He knows that this could very easily go south in an instant, and he'd rather be ready for that. Hawks is stationary, seemingly only half-way listening to the conversation, but clearly sporting some kind of... look on his face. A mixture of understanding, remorse and... envy? Ryoya didn't know; Hawks was always good at schooling his expression. The other girl, Peacock, seems even more disconnected than Hawks is. Her cigar remains unlit between her teeth, and her button-like eyes are darting around the room, looking for something more interesting than this.

"What exactly did you see?" Madam President says after a time. "Bang Shishigami hadn't informed me of any... extracurricular activities during your training. Zeku of the Bushinryuu hadn't brought anything to my attention either."

'Of course they wouldn't tell you that,' Ryoya thinks. "Names, locations. Payments."

"I beg your pardon? You're going to have to be more specific if -"

"Does the name 'Lorenzo' mean anything to you?" Ryoya cuts off, watching the woman's eye twitch.

Peacock suddenly starts coughing up smoke. Hawks smirks.

"It does not." Madam President says smoothly. "Was that all?"

No, far from it. "Mie. Shadaloo. Money being exchanged..." He drawls, letting his words sit in the air. There's more he can say, if he wants. He's seen the reports of Peacock's missions, he's seen the amount of money they pay to maintain their narrative, he's seen how fragile this all is, and how much of it hangs upon All Might's shoulders.

"If you really and truly want to know more, " he says slowly, taking a very small delight in the small bead of sweat that drops down her brow and the impressed look on Hawks' face, "I can tell you right now. Something tells me that you wouldn't want that, though." He glances at the younger Peacock to see that she was doing a great job of pretending to not pay attention.

"I see... and is there truly no way to change your mind?"

"There is none. I want nothing. To be quite frank, the government has never done anything good for me anyway and I don't like where I see this path going." Ryoya shrugs, keeping himself professionally disinterested. He can't let them know how quickly his heart is beating now, nor how uncomfortable he feels without his quirk activated in a place like this. His mask of confidence needs to be unshakable, just like they taught him.

"You see too much..." the woman mutters under her breath before tapping a few buttons on her phone. "Very well, you'll be free to go. However, you must remain here for the time being until you and your handler sign this form."

"Sure."

"You called, boss?" a dry voice says on speaker phone.

"Tsukishima. Loki is before me right now and wants to leave. I have granted his request. However, your presence is needed."

"I see. Is this all for the greater good?"

The simple phrase echoes through the room and Madam President watches as the boy goes stock still and his eyes glaze over. A small ghost of a smile tugs at the edges of her wrinkled lips. "Nothing serious, Tsukishima. He's simply a... last resort, of sorts."

"Why not just kill him?" The man says with such benign apathy, that the room feels several degrees colder.

"Now, now, Tsukishima. Do you remember Lady Nagant? Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it." Madam President responds. "He has no leverage here. No one will believe him. His words mean nothing. Be here immediately, Tsukishima."

"Understood."

When she hangs up the call, she immediately dials another one. "Yes, Mera. Blacklist one Gouten Ryoya Harushi from joining any government-run hero academy and flag his name in our system. He will not be allowed to attain a hero license under any circumstance. Yes, I'm sure."

The call disconnects and Hawks clears his throat. "Is this really necessary, boss?"

"Your presence is no longer needed, nor wanted Hawks." The president levels a cold, steely stare at the man, who responds with a careless shrug.

"Alright. I ordered food anyway. Let's go, little bird. We got tacos."

Nanami's stomach feels like lead when she sees Ryoya leave the president's office. His expression is as it always is; blank and impassive and his eyes are hidden behind his glasses. Tsukishima had yet to leave, which was never a good sign. That quirk of his... Moodmancer. It sends a chill down her spine just thinking about it.

All thoughts stop when Ryoya gets near though, hands in his pockets and an air of content following his each step. Nanami's professionalism slips for a second, and she clears his throat to get his attention.

"Loki."

"Hm? Hey, Seto."

"How'd it go?" She starts conversationally, keeping a level stare at herself in the reflection of his glasses.

"Went good. I'm free." He says simply before starting to walk away again. She starts walking after him without thought. Damn him, and his long strides.

"So... that's just it? You're leaving the program?" She tried to muster as much neutrality as possible, but a small shred of hope slipped into her voice at the last moment.

"I am." He's seen enough, after all. "If nothing else, this has taught me a valuable lesson."

"Oh? What's that?"

Ryoya finally stops walking and turns to the woman. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, never one to fancy being peered at by those intense eyes. It feels less like he's looking at her, and more that he's looking through her. He can see all. No secret evades his gaze. She just wished he took off the damn glasses to let her know whether Visionary is on or not.

"Nothing is true." He says with a smirk. "Everything is permitted."

Nanami squints, "What does that mean?"

"You'll see. Later, Seto."

The skies above the pristine sands of Takoba were dancing with golds and reds and oranges that heralded the start of a new day. With only two months left before U.A.'s entrance exam, Izuku feels fresh and ready.

He's at the beach already, before the sun fully peaks over the horizon. It's almost entirely cleaned now, save for several small patches of debris that will no doubt be gone by the week's end. Uraraka really impressed him with her resolve, so much so that he finds himself here; barefooted on the shoreline with a wide stance and feet submerged in the water up to his ankles.

Sweat drips down his brow, but it's a good feeling on such a crisp morning. Power is coursing through his veins and down to his hands. They move like the water before him, flowing from arm to arm until he's ready to, "Hadoken!"

The fireball flies, the sea parts and the birds all scatter. The hadoken carves its path through the water with ease, and when it gets far enough away, Izuku draws a fist back, arm steaming.

"Sand Blast!"

Pressurized air and ki erupt from his fist and slam into the hadoken before the water can coalesce. The explosion is a loud, satisfying pop and scatters ki in the air like a firework. Izuku looks down at his fist and smirks. Steam is still billowing from his hand like a chimney, but he feels nothing but a scant few tingles.

Someone whistles behind him, and Izuku's head snaps around. It's Yagi and Uraraka, both wearing expressions with varying levels of awe.

"See, I told you!"

The man sighs and hands the girl a few crisp bills.

"Young man, I thought I told you that a break was in order." Yagi chastises, trying and failing to keep the pride from his face. "Overtraining is a real thing, y'know?"

Izuku has the grace to sheepishly rub behind his neck, hoping that some of the heat would go away before he gets too red. "Ah, yeah. I - I know. You guys weren't here yet, so I figured I would kill time."

Yagi raises a brow. "Kill time? How long were you here for, young Midoriya?"

"About twenty minutes."

"…why?"

Yagi squints when the boy seems a bit more flustered than usual. Despite the intensity in his eye and steel in his back moments ago, he crumbled now.

"Er, well. I just — you see —.."

Uraraka, mercifully, cuts in. "He wanted to ask you to come with us to a wrestling show."

All Might blinks once. Twice. And then a third time when young Midoriya's flustered image doesn't change.

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, well, you see… — both my sensei have some friends who are wrestlers and, uh, they offered a few tickets to us. They can't go, apparently, but they didn't want to waste the three tickets so…" he looked over to Uraraka and felt some of his anxiety slip away when she gave him a thumbs up.

"And you want me," Yagi points to himself, "to come chaperone?"

"Not just that!" Izuku says in a higher pitched tone than he wanted. "I mean, not just that. You, uh, also work really hard All Might. You could use some time off too."

It's as though time stops moving altogether for Yagi in that brief instance, young Midoriya's words hitting in the chest harder than he expected them to.

"That's very thoughtful of you, young man. What brought this on?"

Izuku and Ochako erupt in simultaneous awkward chuckles. All Might looks between them both and starts to think. And then it clicks.

"Did you two perhaps invite this old man along so your date goes smoother?"

The reaction is quick and nuclear. Both teens erupt into brilliant shades of red and a series of incoherent stammers and denials. Izuku in particular looks like death is coming for him until All Might bursts into laughter and booms into his larger, heroic form.

"Ahah! You kids are so easy! I will gladly accept your invitation to make sure things go alright! The date will go smoothly!"

Izuku shakes his head so quickly that his features blur. "It - it's not a date!"

"Ye - yeah!" Ochako chimes in. "We're going as friends!"

"Real heroes never lie, children!"

"Sweetie, are you sure you want to wear that?"

Izuku looks up from his phone, sees his mother with a raised brow, and then looks down at his outfit. "Yeah...?" he says, giving himself a once over to make sure he was clean. "I mean, it's better than what I, uh, usually wear, right?" It was; the shirt wasn't faded, fit well, and doesn't have any words on it. He had considered one of his pun-shirts, but Sakura threatened to bury him in it if he did, and he chose life. It's a plain black v-neck that hangs over his jeans.

Inko clicks her tongue and walks over, "It's a little tight. Unless that's what you're going for...?"

Izuku tugs the fabric covering his stomach and watches it snap back into place. "Not really? But I don't mind. Ken-sensei said -"

"Let me guess, 'if you've got it, flaunt it'." Inko looks unimpressed when Izuku snorts and nods.

"Heh, something like that." He looks at her for a second, unable to read her expression.

"Are you carrying a jacket?"

"Yeah, the leather one," he gestures to the coat hanging near the front door. "It's not supposed to be too cold, though."

"Uraraka might be." His mother points out.

"What?"

"Nothing." She continues with a small smile. "Just relax and be nice. Be yourself. I know I don't need to say that, but y'know."

"Okay..." Izuku says, feeling like he's missing something rather important. "Anything else?"

"Did you put on your cologne?"

He did. It's the same - rather expensive - one gifted to him on his last birthday by Ken-sensei. It smelt of fire, inherently, boasting a woody cedar undertone with a trace of grapefruit. He had yet to even take it out of the box until right this moment, and applied a... generous amount.

"Okay, just be home by eleven or I'll assume the worst."

"I don't think you have to worry about villains, mom," Izuku says, looking down at his phone and double-checking when he's supposed to leave for the arena. "It's in a good area, lots of heroes." Plus, All Might was going to be there, but he excludes that detail. "I'll be home on time."

His mother sighs and sits next to him on the couch, "Never change, honey. Have fun. I know you're smart enough to avoid things, and I know you're pretty darn strong - you know I worry anyways - but I want you to have fun. Just make sure you come back home in one piece, y'hear?"

Izuku smiles, "Yes ma'am."

He's out the door a few minutes later, jacket on, and smelling vaguely of cedar wood. He's wearing a scarf too, but he knows he probably won't need it. The jacket is warm enough on its own, and his ki is boiling a low simmer under his skin, and keeps his whole body at a comfortable heat. It's pleasant and comfortable, and that's all that matters. It makes the upcoming event seem less stressful.

The train ride is short and crowded. Izuku keeps his head down and to himself out of habit. He's made awkward eye contact with people a few times before, and the last thing he wants is to be a flustered mess before he even gets to the venue. It's just supposed to be him and Uraraka...

And All Might.

Calling it an arena is generous, but there's really no other word that Izuku can think of. It's smaller than most arenas he's seen in his life - appearing more like a large, hollowed out steel building with no windows - but the line is long enough to almost reach the end of the block and the brightly lit LED advertisements let him know that he's right on time.

Uraraka nor All Might are here yet, which is fine, because he still has some jitters to work out. He puts his head down into his phone and taps idly on the screen to appear busy, until a message pops up on screen.

Ryoya: Relax, you look like you're heading to the firing squad.

Izuku blinks at the screen and his head whips around. He doesn't remember sensing Ryoya on the way here, nor can he see him.

Ryoya: Look up.

When Izuku does, he almost audibly gasps.

Ryoya is there - or at least, his outline is - on the roof of the building with only the dim glow of his phone light giving away his presence.

Izuku: What are you doing?

Ryoya: My best friend is going on a date with the girl he really likes. I wouldn't miss this for the end of the world.

Izuku groans, but he supposes that it's his fault for telling his friend the venue purely out of panic.

Izuku: What if she doesn't show up? Or she doesn't like me?

Ryoya: She'll show up. I think I saw her and the stick guy at a red light on the way here.

Ryoya: And I'm sure she'll like you, dude. What's not to like?

Izuku: Do you want a list?

Ryoya: Do you want me to call Sakura?

Izuku: No, please I'm sorry. I'll stop. I'm just nervous.

Ryoya doesn't reply to that message, and Izuku doesn't have to wonder why. He can sense Uraraka and All Might a block away and takes a deep breath. When they get close, Izuku fights an internal war within himself to pry his eye off of what he sees. Uraraka is dressed simply - a pastel pink v-neck tucked into a knee length skirt. From this distance, he can tell she has some form of lip gloss and every modicum of confidence he had was thrown out of the window.

"Hello! Sorry we're late. Traffic was heavy." Ochako says, tapping on his shoulder.

"No problem!" Izuku says in a higher pitch than he intends. "It - It's all good. You, uh - look nice..." he trails off, tongue-tied, because she really does look amazing.

Ochako pauses and only just now realizes their proximity and lights up like a christmas tree. She takes a step back and says the first thing that comes to mind, "Did you just come from a campfire, or is that cologne?"

He can see it on her face, what Luke spoke about. Choosing the wrong dialogue option. It's as adorable as it is amusing.

"Cologne, I think." Izuku says, snorting at the lighter mood. "Does it smell alright?"

"Yep." Ochako smiles, "But I wouldn't use too much. I thought you fought Endeavor on the way here."

The two fall into a comfortable silence from there, until someone clears their throat.

It's All Might, who's wearing the most smug, sage-like grin Izuku had ever seen.

"And people say I can't be stealthy."

The tips of Izuku's ears go red, but he takes the joke in stride. "Ye - yeah. You look nice too, All - Yagi." And Izuku means it. He's wearing a fine two piece suit that's nothing at all like the louder, more out-there clothing that he'd come to be known by.

"Thank you. I had to dig in the back of my closet to find this."

Izuku snorts, "Well, it was worth the effort."

All Might smirks and nods. "Whoever said flattery gets you nowhere was clearly a liar. The line is moving. Let's go inside, you zygotes."

The event was nothing like Izuku expected it to go, in a good way.

The place had more than enough people to feel alive, but not enough to feel cramped - perfect, in Izuku's opinion.

The ring is in the center of the room, with a decent space between that and guard rails that protect the audience. The entrance ramp is less of a full on ramp, and more of a walkway that leads to a black curtain. It's a nicely put together production, all things considered and gets better when the first match starts.

The crowd is immediately invested when a jazzy theme music hits and a wrestler with jean shorts, a sleeveless leather jacket and a saxophone walks through the curtains. "Hey, it's me, Jazzy Jeff!" The man says, playing a lick afterwards. The crowd loves it, and Izuku can see Ochako enjoying it out of the corner of his eye. Shortly after, another theme hits, and the crowd boos.

"Shut up! I am the Flea! I don't need you people!" He growls in a thick Spanish accent and what seems to be a modified onesie that looks more like a brown rabbit than a flea.

"He looks like you, Yagi!" Ochako points out with a smile. Yagi looks mortified.

Things blur together after that. Yagi, at some point, gets up to get some popcorn, and Izuku doesn't recall him ever coming back, which he's fine with. Uraraka's company tonight was fantastic, and seeing just how deeply she got into the proceedings.

"No, no, Midoriya. I'm telling you, Flea should've lost! He cheated!"

"He did," Izuku concedes with a grin, "He had a weapon in his suit."

"Exactly! And Yo-Yo Girl's match was so cool! She grabbed that girl and just -" She makes several violent flailing motions with her hands before breaking out in a laugh. Izuku laughs with her.

"Did you see Fly Guy?"

"I did! Er, actually. Which one is supposed to be your sensei's friends?"

"They're coming on now, actually. They're the main event."

Then, music hits and cheap pyro erupts. The fast paced guitar and drums bring the crowd up to a crescendo, until the curtains fly open and a man leaps out, lands on all fours and howls. He's well-conditioned, with black hair, and a strong jaw with stubble. His attire stands out, even among the things Izuku had seen that night; adorning a wolf headdress and fur over his pants, shoulders and back. There's a chair hanging from his back... somehow.

"Howl with me, everyone!" The man shouts. He takes a deep breath and howls again, and like clockwork, everyone joins in, even Izuku and Ochako.

'We love you, Beowulf!'

'Can we get your autograph!?'

'Is it true you're having an affair with Hurting!?'

Beowulf seems visibly surprised at that last one, but maintains his ever professional gait to the ring.

Before he can fully set foot into the ring, another theme plays, heavier and with more bass. The lights in the room go red and an ominous violin cues in.

A truly titanic man bursts through the curtains next in a full sprint. He has a beard, mohawk and a strange patch of chest hair, and his body is decorated with scars. How his red tights didn't tear when he ran, Izuku didn't know, but he couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Beowulf dramatically gasps as though someone slapped his mother right in front of him, "Zangief! The Red Cyclone, you fiend!"

Zangief laughs and slams into the man with enough force that the entire room shakes. "Yahaha! Feel this body of iron!"

Beowulf reels and slams into the side of the ring. "Wolves eat iron!" He shouts before getting to his feet and propelling himself forward with a strange white aura directly into Zangief's chest. The titan barely flinches, but his body does slide back a decent distance.

"Bahah! Bears in the Motherland hit harder!" Zangief taunts, catching the man before he can use his quirk and slamming him into the ground. Beowulf's body bounces and his arms flail around before one lands on his chair. "Hurting!"

A satisfying thwack echoes around the stadium when steel meets the top of Zangief's head, and the man stumbles. "Ah! So your weakness is steel chairs! I know how to beat you now, Cyclone! NADESHIKO!"

"That's my line!"

Another theme music hits and the crowd erupts again when two women rush out from behind the curtain. One has long, blonde hair tied into pigtails and is wearing a blue and white lingerie-like leotard with ruffles around the collar, sleeves and leg-holes. The other has short, black hair styled into a bob and a red and white leotard with wrestling boots and kneecaps.

What followed is a spectacle of highflying, yelling, lots of steel chairs and, at one point, Beowulf stands alone in the center of the ring with a microphone materializing in his hand, somehow, and is delivering an enthralling speech about the values of the wolf. Mid-way through, he sits down in his chair... which then suddenly folds in on itself and topples over, taking the man with it. Before he can stand up, however, he's clubbed in the head with a chair from Nadeshiko.

"MIKA!"

"Mika from the top rope!"

"RAINBOW SPLASH!"

Beowulf lurches when she lands belly-to-belly and she snatches the mic.

"Hey! There's a passion that burns in my heart; the passion to realize my dream! It reverberates into my muscle soul! With my strength, determination, and spirit, I'll become as bright as the…RAINBOW!"

The crowd goes wild, but none are louder than Ochako. She hollers with her whole soul, and the only reason she hadn't lept out of her seat so far, Izuku thinks, is because they're holding hands. She didn't seem to realize it, having had a deathgrip on his hand from the moment Mika's music hit, nor did she realize that he was floating, and only staying down by hooking his feet under his chair. But the happiness in her eyes and the passion he sees from her makes it all worth it. She could have floated him into the ceiling for all he cared. Right now, with their hands linked and the energy of the world around him, everything felt right.

It was nice.

It was then, in his own thoughts, that Izuku realized something that he knew for a while now. He liked this girl. A lot. Almost enough to scare him.

What a beautifully terrifying revelation.

Once Mika finishes her speech and the show concludes, All Might magically reappears at the door with a smile on his face. Izuku and Ochako are spent, and the girl is barely awake and hardly able to speak.

"I take it you both had fun," All Might says sagely.

"Ye - yeah." Ochako says, voice hoarse and raspy from all of the screaming.

"I had a great time," Izuku admits.

They share an awkward, but warm hug after that, and All Might takes the girl home.

The realization hits Izuku like a truck. The whole way home, he stares blankly at the wall of the train with a stupid smile on his face. When he gets back home, Izuku locks himself into his room, collapses in his bed and slams his face into his pillow. He screams with as much energy as he could muster.

"That was totally a date!"

A/N: Hey I got a chapter out and it didn't take 5 months. Neat. Hope you enjoyed and thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter. And thank you for your patience with me.