Blinking in tandem with the lazy fan blades overhead, Shoto sighed. He didn't need the bed rest, but his father barred him from training. Something about his shoulder needing to heal after Izuku kneeing it full force. Izuku hadn't broken anything, but it'd been a near thing. He'd already visited his father's private physician and was technically cleared, but his dad still canceled training for the day. Now, he was at a loss.

Shoto didn't consider what to do on the weekend much. For most of his life, weekends were busy days of brutal training, mixed with long nights of monotonous studying. Now, the training took up barely a fraction of his day, giving him freedoms he was still accustoming himself to. School usually kept him on his toes, of course, but he had free time nowadays. It'd been hard to balance before, when he at least had a semblance of normality with school and some training, but having a whole day to himself? It was driving him up the wall.

Not literally; as of now, he had counted four hundred and nineteen full rotations of his overhead fan. It was all he could really do, without homework or training on the table.

Foregoing the overhead fan, Shoto turned onto his stomach and groaned. The spar yesterday had been interesting, to say the least. The fight with Nighteye had shown him a lot; what he was lacking, what he had in abundance, and even avenues for future growth. Not only was the man a legend in the hero community, but he was down to earth and almost relaxed compared to his father. Even when the man kicked him in the stomach, he was able to stand back up afterward. Had he been training with his father, standing right back up wouldn't have been on the table.

Informative, merciful, and easy to talk with; the ideal teacher. A bitter smile tugged at his lips at the thought. Shoto would never call Izuku lucky, but the boy had gotten a good deal with Nighteye.

And boy, sparring with Izuku just proved that. Of course, he knew Izuku was both more passionate and more motivated than him to improve, but Shoto had a massive headstart on the guy. Having more arms, for one. More training from a pro hero, for another. He'd never suspected that Izuku's training, which hadn't even reached a year yet, could compare to his seven.

Their fight had been close, and had only fallen in his favor by chance. Especially when he considered how Izuku had already let off his ace in the hole that day. Had Izuku still had that one in the back pocket, Shoto doubted he could've won without matching him. He winced, thinking about his ace. His biggest attack, wasted on a decoy. Shoto could feel in his bones how he'd be learning from that mistake later.

Rolling onto his side, his mind continued to wander. He thought of Izuku, and his motivations and talents. He thought of his father, and the troubling aura he felt from him the day prior. He considered Nighteye, his fire, and his mom.

His thoughts evaporated as his phone buzzed on his desk. Careful not to agitate his shoulder, he retrieved it at the expense of speed. By the time he'd grabbed it and laid back in his bed, three more buzzes had gone off. Squinting at his phone, Shoto could barely make out message notifications while his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

Izuku Midoriya: Would you like to hang out? My dinner friend, Set, wants to meet you. No school or anything. Just maybe food and walking around.

Izuku Midoriya: Hiiiiiiiiii

Izuku Midoriya: I need to make sure you're good for the boy since you're replacing me :))

Izuku Midoriya: I'm so sorry. Please ignore that, she stole my ph

Shoto raised an eyebrow as another text came through.

Izuku Midoriya: I am izuku and am very polite ooooh aaaahh I heard you sent izu packing. I respect that. U don't gotta come over or anything, but it will be fun if u do

A small smile crept onto Shoto's face as similar messages continued to roll through. His shoulder hurt; it still ached, really, but there wasn't anything wrong with it. If a bit of pain was the only sacrifice to get out of his godforsaken house, then by god would he feel pain.

Shoto: K. Where, when?

[x]

"You two are so dramatic! It sounds like some sort of anime battle or something. Simultaneous punches? Seriously?" Setsuna rattled off, making both boys blush. Izuku felt his cheeks burn, more than anyone. It was all his fault, at the end of the day. There was no real reason he did it other than sheer adrenaline. He should've bailed as soon as a hole melted in the wall, but he supposed he just lost himself in the moment.

Something squirmed in him at the thought, reminding him how close he could've been to actually winning. Unwarranted thoughts flowed through his head, reminding him of how happy he'd been for that brief moment when he thought he'd won. His knuckles itched where they'd brushed Shoto's face.

As the tickling sensation in his knuckles grew, so did his awareness of his surroundings. His vision sharpened, his eyes zeroing in on Shoto and Setsuna. His focus bounced between the two, showing him how Shoto walked at an awkward angle and how Setsuna's hands kept fidgeting. Setsuna smelled like oranges and a bit of sweat, while the scent of charcoal wafted off Shoto. Their shoes made obnoxious scraping noises against the asphalt as they passed by a store.

Every conversation flowing out of the market slipped in one ear and out the other. Even when they got far enough where they couldn't even see the market anymore, Izuku could still make out the tail ends of conversations. His fingers twitched.

He could feel his heart in his chest when Setsuna looked at him, dim alarm growing on her face. She was pretty, but she looked tired, with thin bags under her eyes.

"Woah, woah, Izu! Your pupils are so dilated! You good?" She asked, peering close. Shoto stopped, tilting his head towards a nearby bench. Grabbing him by the elbow, the girl guided him over to the seat despite his protests. Shoto gave him a sidelong glance, confused as he sat with him.

"I didn't hit you in the face yesterday, did I? Pretty sure the only thing concussed about you is your kidney," Shoto said under his breath. Izuku, despite the headache forming in the back of his skull, chortled.

"Guys, seriously, I'm fine. This happened last night, too, and I was fine. It's just… jitters." Izuku said, looking away from the unimpressed look on Setsuna's face.

"Dawg, jitters doesn't do that to your eyes. If you're feeling bad, we could've done this another day. I didn't need to meet your friend that bad, y'know. No offense, man." Setsuna said.

"None taken."

"Just… just give me a second, and I'll be fine. But you shouldn't be so concerned. You came here after some hard training, right? You probably should be resting. Same to you, Shoto, Y-you're barely on your feet." Izuku said. Both of his friends looked at him, surprised. Setsuna raised her arm and gave her pits a quick sniff.

"What gave me away? Either way, being tired isn't an excuse to not hang out. Most times." Setsuna said.

"Well he's not wrong, but in my case, I was just bored. I took some painkillers before I left, anyways. It'll kick in soon." Shoto said. Izuku nodded, satisfied.

"Exactly. He's on painkillers and you stink like a barn. A bit of jitters hasn't ever hurt anybody. Let's just keep going, unless you're going to make us turn this ship around?" Izuku said. Setsuna gave him a shocked look, while Shoto snorted. He blinked, confused at their reaction until it dawned on him what he said. His blush returned with a vengeance.

"Fine," She said. "But if you start acting weird again, I'm taking you home." She said. Izuku smiled, getting to his feet. Pulling Shoto up, he kept his eyes away from Setsuna; both to avoid his embarrassment and to hide any oddity in his pupils.

"To the arcade?" He offered, struggling to find anything to look at other than the girl.

The trip to the arcade took longer than expected. They weren't half a mile away from the arcade, but since neither Izuku nor Setsuna wanted to slip between alleyways to get there, they chose to walk the long way around. It ended up being a decent hike, giving Shoto and Setsuna time to get to know one another.

Izuku took a backseat in the conversation, acting as more of a median and common ground between them. He listened, only adding in when one of them tilted a little too out of the other's comfort zone. Otherwise, he spent his time keeping his nerves under control. Whatever his "jitters" were, he didn't want them to upset Setsuna even more. The concern on her face had been genuine, and it made him feel sad.

He planned to start asking around for its cause, since he suspected today's wouldn't be the last. All he knew for certain about it was that his adrenaline kicked up every time he thought about yesterday's spar, and that concerned him. If he ever sparred Shoto again, which he probably would, he didn't want to start freaking out in front of Endeavor. It was different than his old panic attacks; he didn't shut down, but rather he seemed to ramp up, to the point of a headache.

By the time they'd gotten to the arcade, Izuku felt like he'd calmed back down. As had become customary between him and his friend, they first went to the motorcycles. Izuku hovered back as Shoto sat down, looking confused and overwhelmed at all the buttons on the handles. Izuku smiled, remembering how he'd wallopped Setsuna towards the end of their first session, and how sportsmanlike she had been about it.

He expected Shoto to be as uncoordinated and poor as him at first, but he supposed having another arm made it less impossible. Izuku pulled up a chair to watch, wrapping his legs around the back and leaning his chest into the backrest. He rested his chin on the back of his hand just as his friends popped a few coins into the game.

"So, the first question for the new hire: What's your favorite thing about Izuku?" Setsuna said, leaning to the left as she took a hard turn. She cranked the right handle just as her wheels left the top of a ramp, a boost trail exploding out of her digital bike. Red exhaust billowed out of her back as she launched herself into second place, overtaking the expert-level AI.

"What is this, some kind of interview?" Shoto said as he tapped a random button on the left handle, taking his eyes off the screen. His character bumped into a wall, but it was a glancing blow, only slowing him by a bit. A bike came close to overtaking him, but the green button burned fluorescent just as the back of his bike opened up and released a massive banana. The AI's name slipped down the leaderboard like a master pianist performing a glissando.

"Yup!" Setsuna said, weaving around a fallen tree.

"Ok. Well, he's interesting." He replied, taking a hard left. Izuku blinked at him; both for the vague compliment, and the fact that the main path went right, where Setsuna was going neck and neck with first place.

"Oooh, very minimalist. What's interesting? Don't worry, I won't tell him what you tell me." She said, giggling as she threw Izuku a wink. Izuku's eyes widened as she bumped into another bike and spun out just when she turned her head to wink at him.

"Hmmm. I suppose, fundamentally, the juxtaposition of his physical state to his mentality is intriguing. He's cool like that, I guess. Can I ask a question?" Shoto asked, leaning to the right as his path narrowed to barely a bike's length in width. The hallway, because Shoto's character was riding around inside a building, had a perpetual right curve.

"Sure," Setsuna said under her breath. The green-haired girl dialed in, intent on retrieving her lead after her crash. Reving her right handle, she boosted past fourth place, landing her right outside the top three. Looking over to Shoto's screen, his placement number was labeled "?"

"What's yours? Favorite thing about Izuku, I guess." He asked, now bouncing between leaning right and left as his hallway began to warp into the shape of a snake.

"Pass. Next question. Will you and Izu train with your dad again?" She asked, slapping her left handle's whole roster of buttons as she got close to third, a cacophony of abilities shooting out of her bike all at once. Missiles launched forward and backward, her character took on a golden sheen, and her wheels rotated sideways, turning her into a hoverbike. In less than three seconds, she jumped from fourth to first place.

Shoto didn't respond, opting instead to focus on the increasing difficulty of the course. The turns became sudden, jagged, and tight. All the while, Shoto kept his head low, eyes focused. For ten seconds, nobody said anything as the two racers seemed to become absorbed in the game, completely taken with the idea of winning.

It all came to a head when, after almost a minute of tight driving, Shoto's hallway opened up into a balcony. At the same time, Setsuna turned the last corner of the map, the finish line in sight. In a burst of action far more dramatic than appropriate, Shoto burst out of the balcony, landing on the main track right beside Setsuna. Together, they crossed the finish line, showing Izuku the "TIE" screen for the first time.

"Whaaat!? Setsuna cried as Shoto relaxed, his shoulders loosening. Izuku got up, patting Shoto on the back and giving Setsuna a consoling shoulder rub. Setsuna was almost crying into her own hands, but Izuku smiled; she was playing it up, as always.

"You're crazy good at this game, Shoto. She destroyed me the first time I ever played."

Izuku said. He shrugged, noncommittal.

"It wasn't that hard in the first place. And to answer the question, I think we will. I'd like it if we did, anyways. Training together, I mean." Shoto said, giving Izuku a small smile. Returning it with twice the radiance, Izuku laughed.

They kept racing until all their pocket money disappeared, but Setsuna didn't compete with Shoto again.

[x]

Setsuna's fingers trailed across the brick and mortar of the buildings as she walked, no destination in mind. After the arcade, the trio split up, each heading back home for rest. The racing had been… fun, she supposed, but more than that, it was exhausting. Don't get her wrong, of course, she hadn't hated it, but by the time they'd used all their funds, she was slouching and dragging her feet.

She had a good time, she kept telling herself. Shoto had been a blast, and way more interesting than his dry-texting suggested. Being with Izuku was bliss as normal. The racing had been competitive, close, and intense. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and no homeless people lounging outside her home when she'd passed it like ten minutes ago. No school today, or tomorrow, and not even the day after that, given a holiday was coming up. Today had been perfect. She paused on the sidewalk.

So why was she so freaking miserable?

Looking out to all the other pedestrians gave her an odd comfort. An elderly man was shuffling along with a cane, muttering about grocery prices. A couple of college kids seemed to be patrolling the streets, probably looking for a booze store. A handful of little kids were tumbling down the street, punching and shoving each other as they walked along, laughing. They all seemed to know what they want. Groceries, beer, and some rough fun.

It gave her hope; to know others had found themselves. It also made her stomach turn; how did they ever figure out what they wanted? Those kids seemed so young, yet they had something deep down that she didn't. Where had she gone wrong, to be older than them yet more confused about her life?

She began her aimless march once more, dragging her feet behind her. Her thoughts, as they often did, swirled back around to Izuku. How cool he was; how motivated. How he wanted to be a hero so bad, and how hard he worked for it. How nice and down to earth he was, despite his flashy emitter. How messed up his circuit board was, and how he pushed through it.

Setsuna let her thoughts about the boy wander as she walked, imagining his face and his laugh, his work ethic and his goofy hair. She thought about his eight freckles, and she thought about his future hero name.

Her thoughts came to a halt as she stumbled, almost having tripped on a stray newspaper. Looking all around her to make sure no one noticed her slip-up, she picked up the paper. It was an old article, smelling of rotten food and stained the color of wheat. Dating it, regardless of its appearance, was easy. All Might's death was the front page story. Her stomach did an ugly little flip as she rolled it into a ball and chucked it into the nearest recycling bin.

She didn't notice, that on the second page of the article, the image of a little green-haired boy the greatest hero had sacrificed himself for.

Heroism, martyrdom. It all came back to that, didn't it? She'd made the decision to be a hero, yet deep down, she didn't know if she had it in her. She could be a hero, she was sure, but she didn't know if she could be a true hero, like Izuku would be. Shame filled her gut at the thought; of being colleagues with the boy who saved her and her mom, yet lesser.

If she'd been in All Might's shoes that day, could she have been as brave? She couldn't say, and that embarrassed her. It wasn't a stretch to imagine Izuku like that; he'd already done it, really.

She couldn't help the frustrated growl that escaped her as she began stomping through the streets. So what if it was a borderline tantrum? Heroes didn't throw tantrums, but that didn't really matter to her, since she could never be as heroic as Izuku anyways. The thought only made her angrier, and sadder.

Her stomping morphed into a jog, which twisted itself even further into a full-blown sprint. Pedestrians yelled as she shoved past, bumping into people she couldn't see through her tears. She couldn't stand it, thinking about Shoto and Izuku. Both seemed so dedicated, so confident that they'd be heroes. Shoto, of course, seemed less confident than Izuku, but he'd been training since his quirk manifested. It made the two boys the hardest workers she knew, bar her father. How could she ever compare to them, both trained by pro heroes? She'd told herself a long time ago that she'd never call out unfairness for Izuku's situation. By god, wouldn't that be hypocritical? But she couldn't help how she felt, how insignificant and weak Setsuna Tokage was.

This time, she did trip. She took a turn too hard, but this time, Izuku wasn't there to catch her. Her toes caught on the lip of a welcome mat, sending her face straight into the asphalt. Pain exploded across her head, focused on her mouth. Groaning as she rolled over to her side, she touched her lip; it came away bloody.

"Frick." She muttered, wincing as blood sputtered out of her mouth at the curse word. Looking around, it seemed no one saw her tumble except for an oddly shaped bird high in the sky. Climbing to her feet, she took stock of her surroundings. Blinking away the tears, she took a good long look at the welcome mat that had busted her lip. It was a fancy little thing, but nothing special. The building it belonged to, on the other hand, screamed personality.

It was a salon, that much was obvious. The inner windows revealed dozens of posters; each girl was beautiful, and no hairstyle was the same as the last. Pixie cuts, Wolf cuts, bangs, curtain bangs, straight, bald, frizzy, curly, it had everything. She wasn't much of a salon girl; her mom went plenty, but Setsuna hated having her hair touched by strangers. It was why her own locks were so gnarled and uneven; she liked to think it was a part of her charm.

Still, the place at least looked nice, so that was cool. Inviting. Her eyes trailed across the hair models, drawing themselves to the far right, where there was an example of a woman changing her colors. While it could've been Photoshop, she doubted it. The woman's hair was a natural pink, but a second photo presented it as a warm brown. Walking over to the picture, she saw it had a little caption.

"Pink is great, but I totally adore the more natural colors. Ever since I started dying it, I've felt like a brand new person!" She read aloud. She read it a second time, then a third, focusing on the second sentence. Something about it made her gut feel a little less heavy, her shoulders a little straighter. A brand new person, huh?

Checking her pockets, all she found were a handful of coins, not even a single bill. They'd spent all their money at the arcade today, her included. She didn't have enough for a burger, let alone a fancy place like this.

She fingered her phone, playing with the idea of calling her mom. She stood outside the building for a few minutes, loitering as long as she dared before she sighed. Pulling out her phone, she hovered over her mom's contact before closing the app and choosing another. Opening her GPS, she hovered her thumb over her exact position, creating a pin. Just in case.

[x]

Months passed, with Izuku falling into a familiar routine. Waking up, he'd spend some downtime chatting up Setsuna, doing homework, and playing with Smokescreen. Then, he'd either head out to Nighteye's warehouse or Shoto's house, and spend the rest of the morning drilling, sparring, and training. Then, depending on the day, he'd either get Nighteye to drive him or take the train to Shimisuka, where he'd work on his proto-thesis with Ms. Fujimaki. Periodically, he'd also visit Dr. Fujimaki and Ms. Utsushimi for prosthesis maintenance. Next, he'd help tutor Shoto with math and finish his own homework. Finally, he'd go home and theorize about quirks or hang out with Set.

It was hard work, but it was comfortable. Every day felt fresh, where he'd either learn something new about himself or his friends. He'd hung out a handful of times with both Shoto and Setsuna together, but more often than not, it'd be separate. He'd been spending more face-to-face time with Shoto, but Setsuna had been blowing up his phone more than usual the past few days. Her texts buzzed with life now, each call a cryptic message. She was hiding something and wouldn't tell him what it was.

It'd been almost a week since she started sending ominous texts, mostly involving scissors and disturbing selfies with her head blacked out. When he showed his mom, she'd laughed off his concern, telling him to be patient.

So, patient he had been, up until Setsuna's first day of middle school. Today he was outside of Setsuna's middle school, waiting for her to arrive so he could wish her luck. His game plan was to figure out what she'd been hiding, and maybe give her a hug. So, he found a comfortable bench near the gates and sat there, people-watching.

It was odd, he learned, to be of the middle-school age, out here with all the other middle schoolers, but not going in. He received several odd looks and had to shoo off more than one teacher who questioned his lacking uniform.

His knee bounced in place as he saw a group of girls walk past, still no sign of his friend. The girls were wearing traditional sailor-like uniforms, but the color motif was odd. Instead of a standard white and blue, as many middle schools used, it was brown and orange. Aldera, the school he would've gone to before the accident, had black and red, but it was an outlier. Izuku cringed, thinking about Setsuna's reaction to the clothes. Having natural green hair was fun and all until you started wearing orange.

He fiddled with his phone for a few minutes, still not catching his friend. Did he forget to tell her he was coming? Checking his phone killed that idea. His elbow—the real one, itched. Off in the distance, he heard the loud tidings of a bell, signaling school has started.

Izuku started to panic; was she ok? Did a car hit her, or did a villain attack send her to the hospital? A million and one thoughts rushed through his body as he got to his feet. He grit his teeth as he felt his heart rate skyrocket; he was getting too excited. Blood pounded in his ears just as One for All swirled in his gut, anxiety spilling out. Where was she?

He scanned the evacuated streets, looking southbound for any signs of life, but found none. Closing his eyes, he focused on himself; he was being dramatic. Setsuna was fine. Taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart, he fished his phone out to shoot her a text, still facing south.

"Behind." A masculine voice whispered into his ear. Shrieking, Izuku whipped around, looking for the man, but was instead met face to face with an odd sight. A blonde girl with a disheveled uniform and an odd bag was standing behind him, out of breath. His first instinct was to back away; this was a stranger, and staring at her unkempt state was rude. Not only that, but he was still on high alert, looking for the man who'd snuck up on him.

Izuku didn't, however, back away. He couldn't help the way his eyes pointed out to him things that should've been obvious at first: big round eyes, luscious lower lashes, pointed teeth, and a dino-themed bag should've tipped him off instantly. Taking a slow step forward, Izuku gave her a self-conscious wave.

"H-hey, Set?" He asked, bracing himself for the horrible embarrassment when she proved him wrong. She didn't.

"Hey, dude! Sorry for sneaking up on ya!" Set said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, a finger twirling a lock of hair. Izuku's brain short-circuited. Was she wearing makeup?

"H-h-hey, y-y-your-r h-hair…" Izuku mumbled. She paused her nervous shifting, giving him a hopeful smile.

"Y-yeah! You like?" She asked. Izuku could've died.

"U-uh yeah! Kinda out of the blue, but it's n-nice!" He said, honest. He liked her natural hair, but she looked good as a blonde. Her eyebrows were still a little green, but he doubted anyone but he would notice. Setsuna fist pumped, all anxiety falling away.

"Hell yes—I mean, thanks. I wouldn't call it out of the blue, though. I've been hinting all week. Why do you think I sent you that bleach meme?" She asked, giggling. Izuku flushed, having forgotten about it. The scissors had been more memorable.

"O-oh, yeah. I was wondering why my mom wasn't concerned…"

"Anyways! I was thinking since today's just going to be a syllabus day, why don't I swing by after school? We could do some quirk stuff, or some pushups!" She said, flexing.

"U-uhm, s-sure? What's with the sudden change? You usually never want to train with me." Izuku asked. Setsuna practiced her quirk a lot, but not with him. On rare occasions, they'd face-call while doing their own routines, but that was the extent of their collaborations. Setsuna winced, but kept her smile strong.

"Shoto's been eating up all your time recently, I figured if you were training with him, I might as well try and get in on the fun. How about it?" She said. Her tone was a bit weird, he noted, but it was touching. She wanted to spend more time with him.

"Of course! You're welcome over any time; I'll even ask my mom if you want dinner. Anyways, you better get going." Izuku said, gesturing over to the gates. She gave him a quizzical look.

"Totes… but what do you mean? We've got plenty of time to chill."

Izuku blinked.

"Uhm, school started five minutes ago."

"What!?"

[x]

AN: So I read through the brain dump for that eragon fic and wow, that took a while. It makes my stomach wiggle thinking about it; I've written original pieces, and I'm planning a book, but this is the only project I've ever finished a detailed outline for. I'm definitely burning out on this story, but I'm hoping either that or another passion project can take it's place while I recharge my Unlikely juice. It needs some touchup though, for sure. I haven't even had time to read all the chapters i'd written, but I can already tell how it needed a final draft before I started fr.

Review!11 If you didn't know, Setsuna used to be a gyaru. I don't really fuck with the stigma around them, but I thought a mini imposter syndrome arc could make use of that backstory. I want six reviews out of this chapter, so I can hit a flat 100 for the 80K mark.