Well that was miserable.
Hello everyone, it's me; the alive guy. In case you're one of the many wondering where I've been when I said this would be a weekly release, I was dead in a ditch. Aka I got sick, felt like shit, and could feel it showing in the writing I tried to do and thus put down the pen until I emotionally felt better. Allergies gave me headaches, dry throat, sinus congestion, and even a damn migraine after a whole week of everything else.
Then I got better and could finally write what I've been wanting to. So warning now as the dates have been thrown off, I will be bursting through the next few chapters until I'm back on schedule, and it helps that the next few weeks of chapters have already been started in several ways that it's not complete scratch left to make and publish. 27 will be out when it's done, and 28 even faster given most of it already is; I did a lot of that early to lock myself in and know what I wanted the story to get done and accomplish for this arc. Apologies I didn't tell any of you sooner, but I don't really like making chapters just update notes; never appealed to me before, so I'll always be avoiding them until it can't be helped.
I do hope you enjoy this segment of "Midoriya is Tired of Life," and I hope to see you all again soon. Thank you.
Yaoyorozu had left Izuku alone in Recovery Girl's office not too long later, leaving the green-haired teen with the silent older lady to rest on his own thoughts. Reflexively, he punched the air out in front of him, and with a frown did so with the other arm. He punched his palm with a loud clap, but only growled after the sound.
His power truly was invisible, he mused with a sour tongue. In fighting Tetsutetsu, not only did punching steel not break his knuckles like it should have, his own body felt no different. Izuku didn't know what having a quirk felt like — maybe it was his fault he'd never asked Iida or Kaminari what using theirs was like — but going off what Monoma had mentioned from their fight, it should have been something noticeable. Maybe that was how he didn't notice it sooner; aside from being lost in rage and adrenaline all those times.
And now, sitting in a medical ward and shadow boxing the wind, he felt even less than nothing. No hint he still had control, no inkling to whether his strength was active or had disappeared once more. Any hopes at finally claiming he was consciously using his super strength were dwindled within minutes of finally seeing them once more. What a fucking joke.
"Watch your language, young man," he heard Recovery Girl chide him from across the room. "These old ears don't respond well to such burning words."
Izuku bit his tongue and bowed his head her way. "Apologies, ma'am."
She waved him off with a grunt as she hopped from her seat. "At least you apologize, unlike your teacher. Shouta could learn a thing or two from you, to turn on a dime like that. But I can also tell why." She hobbled across the room to him, tapping her cane against his heel. "I could hear what was going on in your match. Learn anything new about this absurd power of yours?"
"Other than the obvious, no." Izuku flexed his fingers and clicked his tongue. "Paying attention when it happens, I don't feel any different. There's no power or something 'surging through my veins' when I use it. Can't tell I'm doing anything unordinary unless I'm looking around me. Feels like I'm rolling dice every time I want to use it and I don't even get to see what I rolled." He threw his head back, squinting at the warm white light shining down on him. "I can't even make a good analogy out of this. I don't know what I'm doing."
"No feeling of a trigger or even a fleeting moment of a response in your body or perception to tell when it started?"
"Nothing." All he remembered feeling was tired back at the USJ, after the first punch he took from the hulking villain. The pain of his missing scalp never registered. He just knew he was tired but that he could give up then. Against Nomu — as the news reports labeled the villain — he was determined to fight and protect his class. Against Tetsutetusu, it was frustration, though mostly all directed at himself. The pain was completely felt — though how a bloody eye wasn't noticeable sooner was concerning — but all that came after that and the punch that clearly worked against all odds was his unwillingness to give up when a chance to analyze his own power was before him once more. Where was the overlap? Was getting the shit beaten out of him all he really needed for his strength to exceed expectations? Was reality really that cruel?
Scratch that last question; he knew it was. But he could at least fucking dream that he could break free of that curse.
"The mad rodent will eat up whatever you tell him regardless," the healing heroine continued, tossing up a gummy that pelted him in the cheek and flopped into his palm. "You weren't making progress before, training for this, right? Now you've made a definitive advancement in understanding your power, even if it'll get us nowhere in figuring out more about it. Take the advancements as they come, boy, no matter how big or small they may be." Izuku scoffed at that, plopping the gummy bear into his mouth. His 'advancement' was one of negative knowledge, only telling him useless information. What the hell was emptiness supposed to tell him?
"She's not wrong." Izuku rolled his head to the side, staring at the lanky blond man that stood in the infirmary's open doorway. All-Might waved him a quick but silent greeting with his hand as he entered and sealed the room. "Heard a bit in the hall. This door is far too thin; let's hope no one was passing this when I did. But she's not wrong. Take it from someone with a hole the size of the Mediterranean in his stomach; treat every next step like a treasure."
Izuku fell back on the bed, eyeing the blond hero as his thin form took to stand at the bed opposite from his. "Not sure this and that are the same thing," he dryly noted. "Why are you here?"
All-Might shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I was watching the third-year events, but Togata disqualified himself in his preliminary fight in the end; got too excited with his quirk, ended up outside the ring. Then I heard you had made it to the finals yourself, and then how your last fight went. Caught enough at the door before I entered."
"How long were you just standing there?"
"Unimportant. However" — Izuku panned to the man with an unimpressed look that the hero simply waved a hand at while his other rested on his chest — "allow me to provide thoughts of my own, to at least give your mind more clarity. I can't speak for quirks like Aizawa's and Chiyo's, but I know what using mine is like, and how it feels." With an explosion accompanied by smoke, the man went from a skeleton to a towering man of muscle. "Just transforming is enough to send a shivering surge across my skin. Every punch and leap I take is like a burning fire on my bones, long before I even move. I know Togata feels the same when he uses his. Most of your classmates can probably recount stories and insight of their own, but you'll find all quirks are a sensation on one's own body. For you not to feel anything in its use classifies this even less like a quirk."
Izuku still stared at the man with a flat look, silently watching him deflate while his heroic smile wavered into awkwardness. "Great, so just another tally mark of details that don't explain what it is I have. Wonderful."
"Well for you, I thought it would be good news. Being quirkless instead of quirked is what you wanted, right?"
His emerald eyes snapped to the hollow sapphires hiding underneath the hero's sunken eyebrows, but the older man didn't flinch or shy away. Instead, he shrugged and looked between the teenager and Recovery Girl.
"The principal isn't great at keeping things to himself," All-Might admitted. "Even if we're helping you understand this mystery of your powers, I could have gone without knowing how you feel about it, especially from a mouth that's not your own."
"Please do," Izuku hastily demanded, biting his tongue when the man's eyes turned back to him, unchallenging in their glint. "You shouldn't have to think about that. It doesn't concern you."
The lanky man shrugged once more. "It's not about me, but that doesn't mean I stopped myself from thinking on it. Even when I was a kid, quirkless people were a dime a dozen. Beyond you I only know of one quirkless girl personally; daughter of a friend. Should be about two years older than you now."
That perked the green-haired teen's ears. Someone else who was quirkless? And around his same age? "Like me?"
"Yes and no. She's an inventor like her father; never heard of her throwing a punch in her life. Can't say she has anywhere near the abnormal capabilities you do, but she's a passionate one, not unlike you. Aims to be the world's greatest inventor of her generation. But I also know she's grown up far differently from you; exposed to different sides of life than you. The world may not have been so unevenly split in the population when I was your age, but Japan's divide was never better. I don't fully know what it's been like for you growing up, and I'm not going to ask you to tell me unless it regards something very illegal; I will be as out of your life as you want me."
Izuku wanted to say good, but found his tongue like cement behind his teeth keeping his mouth in place. A part of him still burned to sit in front of the man he once called his hero, yet a chill still ran through him at the thought of him being gone for good.
"But as I understand it," All-Might continued, "you have a wall between yourself and quirks. A fully justified one, it may be, and I can guess the reasons why. No hero is separate from their past — where they're from, what they've been through" — his mouth pulsed in hesitance, and his eyes quivered to turn away — "who they went through it with — and it shapes us. We were all ambitious children once, hoping to fight for the world as we knew it; hoping to better the part of it we saw weakening or in pain. You've seen a lot of the world where quirks were not kind to you, no doubt, and myself not excluded. You know that wall was built by you and by them — by us." His eyes found Izuku once more, glistening with a soft, kindled fire. "If this power of yours exists in hand with you being quirkless, why not fight for its recognition?" While Izuku sat still with lips pursed silently, Recovery Girl injected herself back into the conversation, waddling up slowly before smacking her cane into All-Might's shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"
"You'll let the children know you have favorites when you drop everything when the boy loses to come and see the other one right after," she chided him, hitting him again with less force in the thigh. "There's this thing called discretion; the kids are all into it these days."
"I am being discreet! I drove over here in one of the golf carts like this. No one knows where the big guy is."
"But some of the kids do know you as Yagi. You have two chances to act like a proper adult and you're failing spectacularly on both accounts."
Izuku tuned out the two adults, looking down at his upturned palms in thought. Fight for its recognition, he repeated. Fight in honor of the quirkless kid Hunter had lost, he had suggested before. Whether or not he should still plagued his mind, and while an answer was never found before the day began, the blond hero's own encouragement sent Izuku's mind skyrocketing. Could he actually be a hero for quirkless people when he had lost that one last connection between him and them? Did All-Might actually think he could be?
"I—"
"Our semifinal matches are about to begin!" Present Mic's voice cut him short, snapping his mouth closed as both adults turned to stare at the teen. "Will our contestants make their way to the field? Your audience awaits!"
His lip twitched, pulling at the scar tissue around it, but Izuku simply nodded his head and hopped off the bed. "I should get going. Thank you" — he snapped his body to Recovery Girl and gave her a deep bow — "for taking care of me. I'll try not to do that again." As he rose, he gave All-Might a quick look, finding the man's kind eyes staring back at him. He only gave the hero a quick, "Thank you," before spinning around and walking hastily out of the room, speeding down the hall without looking behind him.
His hands shook and fidgeted at his side, and he beat his knuckles together in frustration. He had to fight Todoroki and Endeavor wanted him to make it a real challenge and All-Might thought he could fight for quirkless people and his powers weren't working and he couldn't destroy ice with his bare knuckles and he didn't want to be some proxy in a family feud that kept misinterpreting him and did All-Might really believe he could be a good hero and why couldn't his super strength just be his to wield and why—
Why couldn't any day be easy for once?
Shouto did not know what to expect when he stepped onto the field, facing down his green-haired opponent walking up opposite of him. The crowd cheering them on was like white noise in his ears, their voices almost overdone monotonous shrills that no longer meant anything. The scouts had already seen the utility of his mother's quirk and how swift he'd been with it to make it this far; he had nothing more to prove to them. Especially not if they were waiting to see his father in his place.
He wasn't sure what he expected Present Mic to say as his voice boomed through the speakers: "It's time for our semifinal fights! Only two matches left before the final bout, and here is where we'll find our competitors to advance to the end! On our left, the chillingly swift and sleek Todoroki Shouto! On the right, the brutal yet durable Midoriya Izuku! Who shall emerge victorious?!"
The boy Shouto was staring down was not who he was waiting for. The green-haired teenager did not look excited or passionate; he looked tired and distracted. Midoriya stared back at him with a frown of contemptment, and two soft, waning eyes that carried none of the fire Shouto had seen in his fists for his two other fights. What changed?
"You boys know the rules! You boys know the riches! The finals await you ahead, so what will you do to meet its demands?!"
Midoriya looked down at his own hands, as if questioning the quirk he so sparsely showed throughout the event. Was he considering not using it on Shouto, or barely putting in some of his power thinking he could beat his mother's ice? Did he really believe Shouto was just going to be another pushover?
"Alrighty boys" — Midoriya looked back at Shouto once more, and the dual-haired boy tightened his glare and spread his legs apart, ready to take the green-haired teen on — "let's begin!"
And then Midoriya turned around and walked away.
The world turned a deafening silence in Shouto's ears, watching the green-haired teen turn on heel and head back the way he came. This was the fight he had been waiting for — the fight he had to prove himself in — and the one person who could match him was silently forfeiting? He couldn't believe it — couldn't accept it. He couldn't allow it.
"In a shocking twist of events, Midoriya has turned around to walk away?! What announcement or declaration did we miss just now—nevermind!"
Shouto's right side erupted into crystals, shooting to the side of the stage before exploding to the furthest corner and darting left, creating a wall of ice just shy of the boundary line before Midoriya could reach it. It stopped the green-haired boy just a few meters away from the newly created ice wall, and he stood motionless facing his own reflection.
"Instead of taking the easy win, Todoroki traps his opponent in the ring for him! I haven't heard a resignation yet! This could be a fight to a knock-out!"
Midoriya's shoulders rose and fell with one long breath before he turned back around, giving Shouto a glare the dual-haired boy was barely able to notice. His head twisted a moment to the open side of the field on Shouto's left, but instead of making a run to leave that way he walked back closer to the field's center.
"Did you really think you could just run away?" Shouto asked him loudly, twisting his foot free from the ice and taking steps forward himself. "Declaring yourself as the obstacle to overcome and you decided to give up before you've even tried? It's insulting."
That spun Midoriya's mood into a circle, twisting his stoic face into a snarky smile built from a scoff. "I'd really rather not, if it's the same between us. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood right now."
Was he being real, Shouto pondered in bafflement. He had the heart and the spirit to fight twice already, but he was suddenly out of energy after being replenished by Recovery Girl? "No, it's not. If you wanted to forfeit, you could have just said so. You still haven't. What gives?"
Midoriya hesitated on answering that, looking away at nothing for a moment before biting a laugh and turning back to Shouto. "Do you actually care?"
"No," the dual-haired boy admitted without hesitation. "I know my father talked with you, and I know he isn't some coward who would ask you and you alone to bow out of a fight against me like I would lose." He tore away his gaze from the green-haired boy to the stands, finding his father's burning form standing out in the empty spaces between the seats. Even from such a long distance away, Shouto could tell the man was annoyed thanks to the cross of his arms. Whatever his plan was, it already wasn't going his way. "It's more likely he knows your connection to All-Might and encouraged you to fight me. So why back out now?"
It was there that Midoriya's stupor broke, the smile on his face deforming into a frown and his brows furrowing over his eyes. "What are you on about?"
Of course he still played dumb, Shouto grumbed internally, but then again it wasn't something unlike him to do. "It's obvious, Midoriya. You and him don't hide it all that well. Anyone could figure it out seeing how often All-Might hovers around you and—"
"Can we not talk about All-Might right now, actually?" Midoriya hastily interrupted him, closing the space between them with a few more steps. "Fine; I talked with your dad. Honor to finally meet him, by the way. And yeah, he asked me to fight you. And he also told me about this" — he gestured at the vertical scar on his own face before waving the same hand at Shouto's — "and why you're not using the other half of your stupid quirk. I get it; my parents haven't been the greatest either. But I'm working it out with the one I still have left—"
Shouto had stopped listening to him the moment he mentioned the scar; the moment Midoriya said he knew about his mother. He had sped-walked through the distance still between them, no ice crystalizing over him or propelling him forward, and swung a fist at the green-haired teen without so much as another thought. Midoriya dodged it with a step back, biting his own tongue and parrying away the next punch Shouto threw at him.
Of course the old man told him of Shouto's mother. Slandered her name and placed all the blame on her for his scar — for her deteriorating health and the stress that ended her up in a hospital. Of course Midoriya would eat it up without question, as if All-Might could ever be as wrong as Endeavor. What did he know of training that left him vomiting or nights he couldn't sleep away on a broken rib? What would he know of a father who refused to see him as a human?
"If you want to give up, just say it!" Shouto demanded of him, following him on the field with blocked punch after dodged punch. "No point in being a coward in front of All-Might now! If you're finally having cold feet—"
Shouto was cut off in the middle of his own swing by a slap, careening him across the face and sending him stumbling sideways. He licked the corner of his lips, grunting at the numb feeling on the inside of his cheek, and turned his eyes to the unamused sass painted across Midoriya's face. "Literally asked one thing of you, dude. Does fighting right now really matter that much? Could have used your ice to knock me out instead of keeping me around; wanna try now?"
No, he refused. "You don't want to use your quirk," he reasoned back argumentatively. "If you're so opposed to trying at all, why should I?" It was Midoriya's own game, humiliating them all by putting in so little of his real effort to still beat them all for first place. For him to manage such a thing at all showed just how ahead he was of the crowd; of their classmates; of him. If Shouto could beat him without the use of his mother's quirk, he'd take that leading role for himself. And wouldn't his father be displeased.
Shouto wasn't going to stay under their iron fists forever. He'd never bow to his father's demands, and he'd never bow to Midoriya's disrespectful superiority complex. He'd show them all the truth behind these fools.
Midoriya wasn't using his power; that much Mashirao could tell. His punches and slaps and kicks were rough in their form but he could tell how they lacked power behind them. If a boy with metal skin would slightly slide back on concrete from a punch, normal flesh and blood shouldn't recover from recoil so easily. Yet Todoroki stood fine, stumbling from the hits he took and continuing to throw back wild swings of his own with his bare hands.
"What a twist to the match!" Present Mic commented above. "Midoriya and Todoroki have forgone raw power in favor of an endurance-testing brawl! What decision did they come to so soon to switch up on our expectations?!"
Mashirao wondered if the energy in their teacher's voice had any real enthusiasm behind it. If Midoriya's odd power wasn't active now, what chance did he stand to win once Todoroki actually used his ice? The dual-haired boy had devastated his past competition with how much more powerful his quirk was; were the introductions the vocal hero gave everyone just flourished text to sound unbiased despite the obvious?
"And here I was hyping myself up for a fight of powerhouses," Kaminari whined dryly. He winced as the rest of them did when Midoriya socked Todoroki in the stomach and sent him rolling back. "Not sure I like this one."
"They're…really pushing the limit of how far we're allowed to go in these fights," Yaoyorozu commented, her voice wavering and hesitating. "But it's a fight in Midoriya's favor. Todoroki's form and technique are sloppy. If he's not going to use his quirk, he doesn't stand a chance at winning like this."
"Good," Mashirao followed up before he could stop himself, flinching slightly as the heads around him snapped to him in surprise. "Look, I don't want to make an enemy out of the guy but he's been a bit of a prick since day one. I don't want him winning this to the end to get to his head and reward him for it."
"I take it my 'befriend Todoroki plan' is a no-go?" the blond boy asked him.
"How about we try on a day where he actually listens? You'll have better luck then."
Kyoka hummed behind the tailed boy, the jacks of her ears tapping on the top of his seat. "Any idea what they're talking about? I can't hear them any better than you can, but you guys know them better than me." Beside her, Tokoyami nodded and Shouji did the same with one of his mouth tentacles.
"I would probably get in trouble if I tried to extend and ear to the field too," the giant boy explained through his limb. "But this isn't how Midoriya's fought before. Even in his first fights; it's different now. Is this how he usually fights without his bat?"
No it was not, Mashirao commented to himself, watching his friend knock the dual-haired boy around the ring with ease. The tailed boy knew his friend — how he trained, what he trained with, how he chose to approach a fight — and he'd never see him do things like this; swerving around Todoroki's arms like gelatin and swiftly connecting his palms and knuckles with the other boy's torso. He'd done something similar in his fight with Tetsutetsu, and though it was obvious his power had chosen to reappear then, the way his body twisted and his fists struck were unlike the boy who spent so much more time in self-defense classes than anything else. Was this what he was learning during the two weeks of build-up to the Festival? Who the hell was teaching him?
Kaminari threw his hands up in a shrug. "Maybe they're arguing about anime?"
Beside the tailed boy, Mashirao watched in real time as Yaoyorozu's dilemma-stricken face morphed into genuine bafflement as it rounded on the blond-haired boy. "Kaminari, you don't actually think they're fighting like this about anime, right?"
"Hey, I've gotten into fights about my opinions on anime. Some people can be really defensive."
Mashirao furrowed his brow at the other teen. "You know that's assault, right?"
"You know Chainsaw Man isn't actually that good?"
"Nevermind; you weren't hit enough."
Kyoka blew a whistle over his shoulder. "Are you two always flirting?"
"Yes," Kaminari answered her as Mashirao informed her otherwise, and the latter boy hardened an unamused stare at the other boy. The electric blond stared back at him in silence a few seconds longer, before blinking and leaning over to look at the purple-haired girl. "You said fighting, right?"
As the heads around him devolved into chaos, Mashirao threw his own into his hands and sighed. Doing so did relieve a great amount of stress from his shoulders, however, letting their playful argument drown out the crowd that filled the rest of the stadium. Not everyone was becoming over-analytical or hyper aware of Midoriya's going-ons, so he and their group were free for the time being of having to handle that with the brutality before them; he could only handle so much at a time. So long as he didn't have to deal with the questions while they were all on live television, he could rest easy.
Plucking his head from his hands, the tailed boy found the only one not mixing in with their classmates' banter was the brunette girl sitting stiff as a board in her front row seat. Uraraka barely fidgeted as she watched Midoriya and Todoroki dance around the ring with their feet and their fists, and Mashiro could take a guess as to why she hadn't made so much as a breath of sound for a good minute. He had seen her hesitate one too many times in her fight with Ashido to recover and hope to win. He had heard her redirect her team of Kendo and Shiozaki away from their own during the cavalry battle, despite their insistence to push. She had put on a face of confidence since they had all recovered from the attack on their class, but he could see how much fighting one another bothered her more than talking about the villains. Given the fight before them — though it was clearly one-sided in favor of their green-haired friend as it went on — he couldn't blame her.
Tapping her shoulder with his tail had her nearly launching from her seat, clapping her already intertwined hands over her mouth to muffle the yelp of surprise that came with it. Mashirao raised a hand up in apology as he leaned forward towards her. "Are you going to be alright?"
The brunette stuttered under her hands for a few seconds before clearing her throat and turning forward once more. "I'll be fine, Ojiro. Thank you."
"You look as pale as a ghost, Uraraka. You should really get something to eat, or drink."
She hesitated again, peeking over her shoulder to flash him a single eye shining with worry and uncertainty, before squaring her shoulders and watching the fight once more. "I don't want to leave Midoriya," she argued softly. "Not right now."
Mashirao bit his tongue from trying again and looked to the fight himself, watching their green-haired friend side-step away from Todoroki's tumbling body and continue on the defensive. There was clearly a difference in the way the dual-haired boy fought with his hands and as he used his quirk, and the tailed boy knew switching up those styles meant Midoriya would lose quickly. He had to end the fight quickly and knock or ring out the other teen before he came to his senses, but he refused to try and put him down. Mashirao could feel the anxiety build in his chest waiting for the tides to turn on him suddenly, until he couldn't take the churning any longer.
"I'll go get you something then," he bargained, rising from his seat and lightly patting the girl's shoulder with his hand. "Midoriya's going to be fine. Dense of a head he's got, it'll be in his favor here that Todoroki can't put him down."
"Thank you," she muttered weakly to him without so much as a turn, and Mashirao didn't wait for one as he scurried past his classmates and disappeared into the stadium halls.
What was Midoriya playing at, dragging out their fight for so long? What was his plan, playing with chance and giving Todoroki the opportunity to still etch out a win? Why couldn't he just get it over with and take the win for himself?
Izuku nearly forfeited his match with Todoroki for one reason and one reason only; his heart wasn't in it.
He blamed All-Might for it, but he knew it wasn't really the hero's fault. He'd been a hurricane of thoughts and emotions for the weeks building to the Sports Festival, and even when the day had arrived not one of his bothers had left him. His powers refused to cooperate, Endeavor cornered him to request fighting his son, All-Might had been the one to suggest he fight in defense and honor of the 'quirkless' name, and every match and event so far had Izuku sweating his butt off just to not humiliate himself with an embarrassing loss in front of all the hero scouts and everyone watching him on T.V., his mother included. But after two full events he managed to take first place in, and two rounds in the final event being victories in his favor, maybe he had shown enough. He gave a good performance — probably impressed a good number of heroes and scouts even with his limited use of extraordinary powers — so maybe there would be no harm in stepping down and calling out now, to let his thoughts rest and allow him to meditate on them healthily.
Of course Todoroki just had to be difficult about it, didn't he?
Izuku blocked the honestly pathetic swing to his head with ease and slapped the palm of his hand into Todoroki's chest, sending the dual-haired boy stumbling back in an effort to maintain balance. "You're not going to beat me, fighting like this," Izuku informed him flatly, wiping sweat off his brows. "You could use your ice or fire right now and win. Nothing's stopping you."
Todoroki caught his footing, hacking into his sleeve and glaring at Izuku through the wild strands of hair that fell over his eyes. "You're still not trying," he coughed back. He shook into an unsteady fighting stance, his body heaving with every breath. "What's stopping you from taking this seriously?"
Shit outside of his hands, Izuku argued in his head with a bite. "I asked you the same about your fire; you wanna answer me that?" Their fight had gone on for minutes longer than his last two, but his super strength had yet to make its grand entrance. And Todoroki was so pitifully trained in CQC that he couldn't tell if his more defensive capabilities were even active. For someone who was the son of the second greatest hero in Japan, Izuku would have thought he'd have been trained properly in all aspects of fighting to at least some degree, but the dual-haired boy punched like he used to before he signed up for his martial arts classes. Then again, he also refused to use the fire side of his quirk, so maybe he never trained under Endeavor and only ever learned how to use his ice. Shit deal, in his humble opinion.
Still aggravated him how both men pulled Izuku into this mess between them because they thought he had anything to do with the country's number one hero. He was nothing like All-Might, and this insistence on Todoroki's end in opposition of that blatant fact was growing old. The man had all but said it himself minutes ago, agreeing to this distance between people with quirks and people without; what was the dual-haired boy seeing that continued to convince him otherwise? Why was it so important to him and Endeavor that they were connected?
"Would you rather give up, then?" Izuku threw his hands out to the side, circling the ring opposite the dual-haired boy at a slow pace. "Because you're not winning the fight like this. You can't even stand up straight. How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Shut up," Todoroki bit back harshly. "You tried to leave the ring first."
"'Cause I really don't wanna be here."
"Bullshit." The dual-haired boy spat to his side, raising his head to glare evenly at Izuku. "You go on this speech about giving it your all, and standing against everyone who faces you, and you just chicken out now? I thought my father asked you to fight me."
Again with that. "I'm not fighting you because your dad asked me to."
"You're not fighting me at all!"
Todoroki lunged across the space between them, a fist flying at Izuku's face, but still he wasn't fast enough. Emulating the silver-haired teen who had trained him, he smacked the fist and sidestepped it simultaneously, and as Todoroki stumbled forward from his overreach, Izuku grabbed the same right arm and pulled it down with him. The dual-haired boy was brought to his knees, Izuku beside him in a crouch with the other teen's right arm stretched out over his knee.
"I'm fighting you now," he stressed into Todoroki's ear, hunched over the back of his head, "because you're so goddamn insistent on me being someone else. I don't have to try beating you, Todoroki, so long as you continue to half-ass everything you do over some stupid vendetta you have on the wrong fucking guy." He dug his fingers deeper into the other teen's arm, pulling it up closer to his chest. "Use your fire, Todoroki. Break out of this, Todoroki. I've already got a scar on the same side of my face because of you; I can take another!"
Where he expected flames to erupt in his grasp came ice exploding on the opposite side of the dual-haired boy, upsetting the balance of their position and shoving Izuku back to avoid being caught in the brief plume of ice.
"And the quirks are back in action! It seems whatever truce our boys made before has been overturned! How will this mix up the fight?!"
Izuku picked himself up slowly, eyeing Todoroki carefully as he pried himself out of the ice block he had pushed himself up with. The look in his eyes had changed — the fire once held exclusively in them all but burned out when they locked eyes — and carried it with him as he fell to his knees once more. He watched the dual-haired boy struggle on his hands, and winced as his own words caught up with him. Mad as he could be for Todoroki's insistence on never using his fire, the scar wasn't really his fault. He had let his emotions get the better of him.
He walked over to the other boy slowly, putting his palms up between them defensively as he approached. "I didn't forfeit because I couldn't bring myself to say it even if I wanted to walk away," he admitted to the other boy, "but you should. You'll pass out if you push yourself more right now. This thing, between us? We can clear that up later. But you need to see Recovery Girl, okay?"
He held his right hand out tentatively, and the dual-haired boy turned his head up slightly to stare at it. Maybe an odd gesture after tossing him around like a sack for the past few minutes, but this spite Todoroki had against his father was unhealthy if he was going so far to drag Izuku into it as well. There was more he had to understand about their problem, and as Todoroki finally accepted his hand with his own, he thought there was a chance he could try to help him clear the air.
And then frost formed over their hands until their right forearms were trapped in a shared ice-chinese finger trap.
Izuku was too off his guard in the moment to catch his weight as Todoroki yanked him down and slammed his free fist into the green-teen side, sending them both stumbling over the stadium floor and quite possibly cracking something beneath his skin. The green teen hissed as he stumbled to collect himself, but the dual-haired boy continued his assault, using their connected arms to twist their bodies and give him the opening to wail on the right side of Izuku's torso and his only defending hand more.
"I am not losing to you!" Todoroki declared with a roar over Present Mic's commentary, swinging them both around as they fought for distance or an opening. "You're not better than me! You're just like me! And you don't deserve to win!"
Gritting his teeth, Izuku pulled on their conjoined arms and swung Todoroki around and into the ice wall at the stadium's edge, still standing in their way. He closed the distance there, forcing their arms to bend and pressing the brick of ice that connected them into the other boy's chest, pinning him against the wall. "No we're not," he grumbled back. "I am nothing like you, Todoroki."
"Yes you are! I've seen it myself! You know what it's like having everyone around you try to decide your life; when they refuse to let you be!" Izuku's pressure lightened a tad, as he stared at the differently colored eyes that fluttered to stay open but never once drifted away from pointing back at him. "When they force their way down your throat until you become as they demand. When oh-so-great heroes think they know what's best for you. How it feels, telling them to shove it. I can see it in your eyes, Midoriya. We're the same."
It was beginning to click, in Izuku's head, as the images of Todoroki and his father built by his words shifted into him and All-Might. As persistence was personified by ash-blond hair and blood red eyes behind clouds of smoke. As words of disapproval came from school; from heroes; from home. How defiance fell into his hands with the weight of a baseball bat, like a sword he pointed at the neck of the number one hero every time they crossed paths again. He could see just what Todoroki must have, and the thin line that connected them.
But a thin line it was, and one that vibrated wildly until Izuku could hear his heart in his ears.
He punched the ice block that connected them, grunting and chips flew off from impact. "I'm not like you," he refused still, ignoring Todoroki attempting to educate him again with another punch into their icy handcuffs, and then another, and then another. "I am nothing like you!" He barked when the dual-haired boy delivered a punch of his own into Izuku's tender and bruised side beneath his shirt, but he didn't let it stop him from wailing on the ice between them harder. "We. Are. Nothing!" His first finally broke through, splitting their casing in two and connecting with the dual-haired boy's chest without holding back.
Todoroki hunched over against the wall, hacking on their shoes violently, but Izuku ignored him. He flexed his dark red knuckles with a wince and glared down at the struggling boy in front of him. "You and I aren't anything alike, Todoroki," he hissed at him. "I have been trying my hardest all goddamn day with a body that refuses to fucking work with me! I've been putting in the best I can manage, and maybe I've just been winning off dumbass luck. But given how little you put in, my powerless ass deserves to win more than you do.
"Maybe there is something between All-Might and I, but I'm not acting like some moron who thinks he can get by putting in half the fucking effort everyone around him is. Remember when people were trying to kill us, Todoroki? Do you remember me giving everything I had to keep you and our teachers and our classmates alive? Do you remember how everyone was trying to save each other from real villains? Because I remember nearly dying because you refused to fucking try!"
Todoroki attempted to push himself up with the wall, his hand still encased in ice struggling to find a grip against its kind, but Izuku kept him down with a swing of his own entrapped hand on the boy's other arm.
"Real heroes don't hold themselves back, Todoroki! We've all been trying to win" — he punched again — "or move on" — and again — "and be better!" The dual-haired boy had both his arms up in defense, ice meeting ice as he tried to shield himself from Izuku's swings. "This wouldn't be a problem for you if you just fucking tried! To hell with your goddamn spite and your goddamn pride! This is a hero school, Todoroki!"
Izuku raised his arm to the sky, clenched his fist trapped beneath, and roared from the depths of his lungs: "If you won't give it your all, then what's the point in being a hero?!"
His ice-coated fist descended on Todoroki's face before he could ever raise his arms to defend himself, but if it was though the other teen never made an attempt to try. With a crack that broke the ice apart and freed his hand, the dual-haired boy crumpled to the floor, curled around Izuku's feet and continued to splay out as his unconscious form rolled onto his back.
He could barely hear Midnight declare his victory, or Present Mic play up the fight like it was anything spectacular. He shrugged off the medical bots that tried to carry him off the field, pushing past them silently and following behind the two that did carry Todoroki's limp body to the Recovery Girl's office. The blood in his ears washed away, the world around him cleared, and he slumped against the wall before he ever made it to the infirmary.
What was he doing?
He finally got the joke. It finally made sense. Weeks of everything around him not making sense — not adding up — finally came together. It all made fucking sense.
Katsuki was living in a world of fucking pansies.
Everyone knew Deku was quirkless. If it wasn't obvious before, they would have to be blind not to have noticed it by now. But they had to have known, because there was no goddamn way in hell that little shit was actually winning his fights. First one forfeits despite having detachable blade arms, but apparently got scared by not enough cuts putting Deku down, so maybe he was just a coward. But the twat with the steel-skin quirk — looked like he was Suchīrubōn's long-lost brother or some shitty copy — who should have knocked that quirkless twink out of his own ass acted like the punches he took could actually push him around, and then somehow lost? That fight had to be staged, and if it was some extra who wasn't in what was supposed to be Katsuki's homeroom throwing that match, then he had to know the truth.
And if Endeavor's twat of a son chose to pretend to lose a fist fight when he had taken everyone before out with his ice, then Katsuki's suspicions were all but confirmed. They knew Deku was a powerless piece of shit, and they were throwing their matches intentionally. Why they would do such a thing; he didn't know. There was no point in lying to the world around them that Deku had any real strength or power or conviction to be a real hero, and certainly not a point the blond boy could see. This was all clearly an act that everyone was in on.
Because the school was in on it too. They knew the truth — they would know how bullshit it was for Deku to win these fights at all — and they just let it happen. No stopping the matches, no recalling the results, no questioning how it came to be; no nothing. Yuei was complicit in letting a quirkless freak be falsely presented to the world as a superpowered somebody, knowing full well it would drag him into danger that would end up killing him. A false lie with dire consequences that would slander the names of heroes and this dumbass fucking school, and they just let it go by, uncontested?
World of fucking pansies.
Katsuki's fight against the car-legged freak didn't matter; it was a damn wash anyway. Fast as that fucker was, the real Ingenium was faster, which made this bastard nothing. One explosion at his own feet, throwing off the field the extra who was clearly going to rush him from the start, and the victory was his in an instant. He didn't need to share any words between him and the bimbo wrapped around Deku's fingers in pity, not after hearing enough from the tailed weakling. He had to fight Deku's closest followers one after another, while he and Deku fought it out in separate brackets, where that green-haired fuck won over impossible odds. The entire event was fucking rigged, he was right from the start. He, the only one with common sense, had to be out before he could face off Deku, and they tried to flaunt extras pretending to be friends with the freak as some sort of determent or obstacle?
The school wasn't keeping him around to give him a chance, they were all just trying to micromanage and control him. Even the hero he looked up to — the one real fucking hero that mattered — couldn't be trusted to make the right call. Katsuki was going to be a true hero, and these were the people he had to study under and work alongside in the future?
He shared no words to the R-rated or the cement-melding heroes flanking either side of the field. He kept his mouth shut towards the blue-haired nobody they tried to stop him with. Even when Deku came out from the other hall to meet the extra half-way and walk him back into the stadium halls, Katsuki ripped his head around and walked away in silence. There was no hope in reasoning with these people anymore, especially not through the words they seemed so intent on leaving everything to. If no one understood him before, nothing he could say now was going to make it through their thick skulls.
He finally had a chance to put Deku down for good and stop this ridiculous fucking plan of his he'd weaseled everyone else into helping him with. Heroes weren't supposed to put the lives of the weak on the line, and people with no true determination and drive could be heroes, and he was going to show them all why.
It frustrated Tenya, sitting in the empty halls of the stadium with Midoriya beside him, to carry with him such a devastating loss in a semifinal match. His fight with Hatsume had been a goose chase for a girl attempting to show off her gear to the crowd before forfeiting the match all on her own accord had been disappointing, to put it harshly, but Tenya understood their friend's own goals had their own demands of pursuit. Even if he had hoped for a better show of his speed and strengths for his brother, the pink-haired girl deserved an apology for his cold shoulder following their match's conclusion.
His shorter match with their vine-haired student was supplemental enough in its place, though its brevity in simply sneaking around her and pushing her over the boundary line didn't leave him feeling victorious nor honored. It was the bare minimum, at best, and far too simple a method to leave a lasting impression on any of the agency scouts, even those sent by his family's agency. He thought he saw the face of one young woman working as a sidekick for his brother, present in the stands; he'd have to apologize to her as well.
But first come, first serve, and the green-haired teen beside him was in need of one for his humiliatingly quick defeat at Bakugou's hands.
"I'm sorry I could not stop him, Midoriya," he summarized simply, his mouth thin as a line. He didn't look his friend in the eyes as he did so, facing the wall seated before them both.
Midoriya did the same, grunting softly but never turning his head to the blue-haired boy. "I'm sorry you had to fight him," he returned with his own apology. "I doubt any of the teachers chose the match ups as they were. No malicious intent from anyone other than the god upstairs who finds my life story a good chuckle. What were we supposed to do about it?"
Not give in, was the first idea to come to Tenya's head, but not to his mouth. All that escaped him was a sigh, deflating his body lower onto the bench. What were they to do, really, other than push through and deal with the hand they were dealt? As if they hadn't done so already, with Midoriya's quirklessness transforming into a taunting, uncontrollable power, with Bakugou making an attempt on Midoriya's life, and villains — real, murderous villains — making an attempt of their own on all of theirs.
"I don't think I've learned anything today," Tenya admitted out loud, barely blinking as Midoriya finally turned his way from the corner of his eye.
"This isn't exactly a class course," the green-haired teen tried to joke, mirth faint in his voice.
Tenya didn't acknowledge it. "We lived through two weeks of classes before we were attacked by villains. We trained for two more weeks for today. I don't believe we've learned anything beyond the world's unfairness over the past month. I don't think I know how to be a hero any more than I did on our first day."
Midoriya's body leaned forward, finally beckoning Tenya's eyes to lock with his soft stare. "You alright, Tenya?"
The blue-haired boy's body inflated and shrunk with a sigh, taking a moment to collect himself and fix his glasses — or mess with, as if there was anything wrong with them to begin with. "Sorry, Midoriya. I just…I imagined today going differently. I was hoping to impress my brother; show him what I've learned and that the Ingenium name will be in good hands when my time comes. I'm sorry I failed both of you today."
"You did not do that." The green-haired teen jabbed a finger into Tenya's chest before his whole body fell into his, leaning on the taller boy shoulder-to-shoulder. "You have not failed me once today. We won the cavalry battle because you and Mashi could carry my potato sack weight from nearly kissing Kaminari at the end. And I don't remember you going that fast before; I thought I left my skin behind."
Both their bodies heaved with another of Tenya's sighs. "Yet Bakugou still stands in competition, and you to face him down in the final match. I couldn't stop him from trying to stand in your way."
"And I didn't ask you to try," Midoriya interjected. "None of you. He's not your problem to deal with. You guys should not feel beholden to stop him for my sake."
"He's not your problem either—"
A hand waved before the blue-haired's face. "Yeah, yeah, I know. He's our problem. We'll corner him in a dark alley and kick his ass together." That waving hand was joined by another to stand in defense against Tenya's unamused stare. "A joke. But seriously, you guys need to stop beating yourself up for not beating him up first. Guess it's only fitting I fight him. Not exactly how I expected today to go either."
Music played faintly through the hall, echoing from the stadium yard where even fainter voices clamored and discussed the day away. "How did you see today ending?"
The clock at the other end of the hall ticked on, its rhythmic drumming inspiring Midoriya's own fingers to tap on Tenya's arm to the beat. "Remember when I told you guys I wanted to be a hero to spite everyone who told me otherwise? Todoroki does too. He was fighting to spite his father, for something that his mother did to him. He targeted me because he thought I was a part of it; he thought that I was against him under whatever he holds against Endeavor." The air curled in and out of the green-haired teen's nose in a long breath. "I wasn't expecting to question why I'm still trying to be a hero if that's what holding a grudge does to someone. Thought I at least had that figured out."
Tenya did remember that day, and the many that followed it arguing and defending his friend's position and purpose. To become a hero just to rub it in the faces of others was — on paper — an ideology the blue-haired boy couldn't find himself to appreciate, but he understood Midoriya had plenty of reason to make that his goal. Tenya had grown up in a household and a world supportive of his dream, encouraging his ambitions and teaching him properly how to follow in their steps; his friend had no such support until the past year.
"We have three years together, Midoriya," Tenya argued back, his voice soft and light. "Advantageous a place I may be in thanks to my family, I truly do not know fully the hero I wish to be; that I could be. There is much I have to learn still, and more sides of the world to see until I know what it is I alone can offer to make it better. You aren't alone in anything, Midoriya; this included. We'll figure that out together too."
A snicker popped from Midoriya's lips, his head dipping to hide his face from Tenya's eyes. "God, how did I make only sappy friends?"
"Hasn't Ojiro threatened to 'kick your ass' every other day?"
"One exception to the rule doesn't make me wrong," the green-haired teen argued back, throwing his head back to tap against the wall gently. A small smile danced on his lips, fighting back the frown attempting to remain in its place. "I'm lucky to have you guys. And I'll consider you're still around because of my charming good looks."
Tenya peeked at his friend's mohawk for a second before looking back down at him with an equally as soft smile. "I owe you a lot as a friend of my own, Midoriya. I consider myself lucky to have known you. And I don't think your haircut is that terrible."
"That's the second best thing anyone has said about it so I'll take it." They settled back into a comfortable silence, rested against each other, watching the clock tick away before them. They were still young, Tenya thought silently. They had plenty of time to figure out the heroes they would become. "I should go get ready," Midoriya continued, peeling himself from the bench and extending a hand to the taller boy. "Everyone's probably waiting for you. Don't want to keep you from them."
Tenya nodded in agreement, taking his friend's hand to pull him up. "I should give you the time to prepare. We'll be cheering for you in the stands." His other hand came up to clasp on the shorter boy's shoulder, an unsteady smile shared between. "Good luck, Midoriya."
"Izuku," the green-haired teen corrected him, clapping his other hand on his friend's thankfully. "Mashi already does it, and you haven't been stopping me. And thanks. I'll try." Tenya didn't leave his spot until Midoriya rounded the corner down the hall, and he stayed a few seconds longer before turning on heel and heading for his belongings in the locker room.
He fully understood Midoriya's dismay in determining the kind of hero he could be. While growing up in a family of heroes had exposed him to much about the job and responsibilities of heroics, Tenya didn't feel anywhere close to filling the shoes of his family — to becoming the next Ingenium. Even now, the distance between him and his brother felt overwhelming to think about. But he had to accept the road before him was long, and the speed of his quirk couldn't lead him to the end any faster. As long as he could keep his place in the class, he had years before him to grow into the role and properly carry the Ingenium name of his family. The work study ahead would have to be the next step in the right direction, and learn from his brother what he was still missing.
His phone sprung to life the moment he opened his locker, and Tenya felt the weight of the sea return to his shoulders as he read his mother's name on the screen. "Hello, mother," he greeted her softly through the speaker. The line was quiet for a few seconds longer, and he took the silence with a wince; of course his parents had seen his laughable displays in the final event. "I'm sorry for embarrassing the Ingenium name. I know I promised to make it far, but I wanted to do so with—"
"Tenya. Tenya, stop." The blue-haired teen's mouth snapped shut at the sound of his mother's voice. It did not drip with disappointment or anger; in fact, it sounded sporadic and shaky. "I'm not…I heard how far you got. I'm proud, don't worry about that."
Tenya closed his locker slowly, pressing his hand against the metal door to balance himself. "Mother, what's wrong? What is it?"
"Don't—just—Tenya, please don't panic." A request he couldn't promise, as his chest began to beat like a revving engine. "It's about your brother."
What did he want to be, Izuku wondered.
He sat in the hallway leading to the stadium center, curled against the wall and barely a foot away from the invading sunlight. The colorful costumes of heroes and sidekicks and scouts and civilians peeked through the bleeding sun rays, but the green-haired teen kept his blank stare on the cracked and chipped wall in front of him.
When he was younger, he knew the kind of hero he wanted to be; one who brought smiles to the world with only his presence, like the hero he looked up to the most. He dreamt it even when his mother and father turned the other cheek and tried to direct him elsewhere. He believed it even when Bakugou and every other of their classmates laughed at him and actively discouraged him. He kept his dream alive all the way to the day he finally met the man he wanted to become.
The same day he accepted that he could not become that man.
And Izuku accepted that, over time; maybe working on that still, to some extent. He came to understand he could never be to the world what All-Might was. He had to look elsewhere for his future, following that day, and he did so through a baseball bat he found in the sand. He spent almost an entire year making new friends with new perspectives that helped him decide something for himself. He hadn't truly found a goal to replace what he originally wanted to be, but it was all a new starting point; one which led him to the theory of becoming a hero because he wanted to laugh in the face of those who discouraged him.
"Our final match will begin in five minutes!" Present Mic blared through the hall and echoed in the opening stadium grounds. "Finish debating those snacks and hurry your butts back to the seats, people! You don't want to miss this!"
The support of his new found friends helped him believe such a twisted pursuit wasn't wrong for him to chase. His dream was always in spite of others' beliefs for him; what was to change by letting that fuel him down the path he always wanted? It took ten months to find an answer for that in his fight with Todoroki, and it was not an answer he liked. Consumed by his hatred, projecting it onto others unrelated and without fault, and hindering himself in his capabilities; Todoroki was fueled by spite and there was not a lick of good to him that Izuku could find. Maybe there was a different answer to find, in actually talking with the dual-haired boy instead of shouting at each other through their fists and bruises, but the green-haired boy knew it couldn't be that simple. It was layers of unhealthy actions and attitudes keeping each other together, and Izuku could see the mirror between them.
He ushered Uraraka away in their battle trial because he knew Bakugou would be looking to target him alone, and because Izuku himself wanted to meet him halfway. He wasted his time and attention arguing with Todoroki when villains were attacking them to argue their perspectives. He changed his athlete's oath to spit in the face of the dual-haired boy's own personal challenge for everyone to see. He nearly got expelled, was almost killed, and made an enemy out of a classmate for a petty squabble. He couldn't even open himself up to All-Might, and the man was genuinely trying to mend his mistakes and make something better between them in its place. What good was spite doing him?
If this power of yours exists in hand with you being quirkless, why not fight for its recognition?
Could he be the person for that, Izuku questioned. Quirkless weren't just uncommon; they were a dying breed. Even of a few hundred million people on Earth, they were overshadowed by the billions of quirks in the world that just existed in society more clearly. Every ten years that number dwindled by the dozens of millions. How many people in Japan were still quirkless like him? Was there anyone diving through the same wonders and mysteries about his own body and capabilities, or was he the exception to the rule people like him lived by? Was there anyone like him worth making that his goal for?
There was always a wall between him and everyone else. He had always built them around new people — people who learned what he really was — and kept it that way to keep going. No one would stand by him, but what was the point in drowning in the droves of insults, threats and belittlement when he could run along the wall in silence until he finally found someone on his side. No one ever appeared but he lived through the silence still. He found people — his friends — willing to climb over the wall and simply be by his side before he ever found anyone bordered off like him. What was on this side of the world for him?
Our quirks are extensions of our very selves, Nedzu's voice played in his mind, an extra limb or a tool we rely on and use throughout our lives. We are one in the same, we and our abilities.
"I don't know what you are," Izuku spoke out loud. "But I know what you're not. You're not some alien entity hiding in my body, doing as you so please when you so please. You're not someone else living inside me, acting as I do. You are me. I just don't know what part." He rolled forward onto the balls of his feet, pressing his fists into the ground and staring at the paved path between them. "You're not my spite or my anger. You're not my sadness or my desires. You're not a weapon to be controlled but there's clearly a rule I'm supposed to follow."
He pushed himself up slowly, looking to the misaligned cracks in the wall before him. "You've been there when my life was threatened. You've been there when I've wanted to fight. You're only ever there when my ass is against the wall. And I know I'm talking to myself…but I know that's one thing you are."
"One minute to showdown!" Roaring applause and crashing cheers reverberated through the hall as the stadium erupted at Present Mic's announcement. "Get your butts in your seats, everyone! It's about time for the fight you've all been waiting for!"
Izuku turned to the sun-lit stage outside, rows of people waving in the wind clamoring for a spectacle. "I don't know what I am," he continued speaking, standing at the edge of the sunlight peeking in. "But I'm not separate from you. I have you for a reason, right? And you have me for a reason. Whatever it is…we'll work that out. And I know I've asked a lot you haven't answered, but I need to ask you one more thing."
One person always climbed that wall. He came for only one thing, and left when Izuku was nothing more than a puddle in the dirt. He stood atop the wall proudly, glaring down on him each and every day for years. Izuku never met anyone on his side of the wall, but he knew they existed, and he knew there were plenty living life just like him; under someone's fists just like him. He could never tear down the wall between him and the world, and he didn't want to.
But Izuku climbed that wall too. He had seen over the other side plenty of times, and he had batted away more and more from trying to reach him until the fists that swung at him were met halfway. There was something in that he couldn't let slip away. Not when those fists were coming his way once more.
"Forget everything else and just be here," he asked quietly. "We're quirkless, and the thing that hates us the most is right here. The one fight we've always been in. Against someone who's never actually seen us. Help me show him we're not hiding behind anything." He took his steps into the light.
"Let's get ready to rumble!"
In the next chapter, the awaited fight takes place; Izuku and Katsuki face each other down once more. There's no going back for either of them. Or anyone else.