Her brush flowed through her hair like water, deft attention to any knots having eradicated all inconsistencies. For good measure, she ran her fingers through it, feeling how they coasted through the blonde lockes like silk. She'd been missing out, she decided, before she learned how to take care of her hair. It took almost an hour out of her day, but it was worth it.
It felt great. It looked great, too, and that was true even after a long day of exercise and fun. Blonde, she had decided, looked good on her. Her roots were dark, sure, but whose weren't? She could just redye them if they grew out too long.
With a bounce in her step, she slipped down the hatch. Taking her time to breathe in the morning air, she began her march. The school wasn't so far that she had to commute by train, but the walk was long. Appreciating the day-to-day world made up for how monotonous the trek could be.
She said hello to just about everyone: the roughhousing brats, the newlyweds down the street, even a kabab saleswoman she had a fondness for. Everybody got a taste of her morning glow. Pausing at an intersection, she spotted a little old lady coming her way, carrying a thick bag of groceries. Her phone told her that she needed to hurry; she'd already been tardy several times this semester, and another on top of it all wouldn't end pretty for her.
Still, she didn't fidget, bite her lip, or even fiddle with her hair. She didn't even consider it. Already, she had eased the heavy load off the woman, taking it on for herself as she offered a young arm to lean on. Together, they crossed the street, going in the opposite direction from her school. It didn't stop there; this street was notorious for its busy intersections, with cars bumper to bumper for miles. By the time Setsuna deemed the woman safe from the busy traffic, she was late.
"Thank you, deary. Shouldn't you be in school, though?" The grandmother croaked, patting her elbow. Setsuna laughed, puffing out her chest.
"Totes! But making sure you're doing alright is more important than chatting up the girls in homeroom. I do gotta go though, so have a nice day!" She said, before taking off running. She didn't catch the lady's name, but it didn't matter much to her. Izuku wouldn't ask for thanks, so neither would she.
Somehow, she managed to keep a straight face as she walked into class. The ongoing lecture paused, her flushed cheeks from her sprint hiding her embarrassed blush. At this point, almost no one bothered to check on her; they'd grown used to her tardiness. Still, the teacher did pause long enough for her to situate herself, giving her a running commentary all the while.
"Oh, Ms. Tokage, glad you could bless us with your presence. What was it today, a cat in a tree? A little old man needing help crossing the street?" He asked, his voice soft. Some of the class giggled, but most just rolled their eyes.
"A lady. It was a lady." She muttered, glancing down at her binder. The teacher laughed, turning his back as he began sketching on the chalkboard.
"Of course. One might think you're one of those pre-quirk fictional vigilantes, what with the subject of your lateness. Perhaps we should start calling you Ms. Parker." Another round of laughter followed suit.
He continued on with his lecture; nothing too complicated, just history, as she felt an elbow in her side. A head of pink hair greeted her, the sign of one of her new friends. Nobody needed a second look at Nara to figure her out; it wasn't that her scalp grew pink hair, it was that her head was itself pink hair. It unfurled when she spoke or emoted strongly, like a sea anemone.
A quirk like that would put someone in the unpopular kids' corner most times, but with a little bit of pushing and prodding from Setsuna, she'd brought the girl out of her shell and seated her as her left hand, her war counselor.
"What were you really doing, Set? Seeing yer boy again?" Nara asked, quiet. Heads turned to them; not that they could hear her, but they could definitely see her talk. Setsuna threw them all a dismissive glance, leaning down to reply.
"I swear, that's only happened a couple of times. This time it really was just another little old lady." She whispered back. The mass of pink hair whirled, disappointed.
"Darn. Well, aren't you sweeter than sugar." She replied.
Other than Nara's teasings, the day almost went on as normal, until she'd heard crying in the bathroom. A stall over, Setsuna could hear gasps, little whines, and cursing mutters. Her first instinct tore her in two directions. Of course, she didn't like that a person was crying next to her, but a selfish instinct told her that it wasn't her problem.
A few moments of hesitation had her outside her stall, washing her hands as she tried to ignore the way the sounds grew louder and less dignified. She was faltering. A glance in the mirror, at her blonde locks that still felt so fresh, spelled total failure. This confident, fun blonde would totally stick her nose in someone else's business, especially if it was for the sake of helping. Izuku would, too.
Tapping on the stall door, she sighed.
"Hey, I heard some noises coming from over here. Are you ok? Need to talk to anyone?" She asked, quiet. An awkward mumbled came through, unintelligible and almost alien. The door creaked open, revealing a normal-looking girl with tear tracks running down her cheeks. She was mumbling something, but Setsuna couldn't make it out.
"I"m sorry, I don't really… know what you're saying." She said as the girl kept babbling. She had short, mop-like hair on her scalp with little more than fuzz around her ears. She kept babbling, before seeming to realize Setsuna didn't understand. Another burst of tears exploded out of her as she tilted her face away, revealing the problem.
A pink, almost heavy-looking hearing aid had a tiny light flashing red in the corner. Another tilt of her head proved the other ear had the same affliction. She sniffled.
"Oh, oh you poor thing. Hold on…" Setsuna whispered, pulling out her phone. She didn't recognize this person, and she didn't know any sign, but she did have a phone. Pulling up the notes page, her finger moved with a furious pace as she tried to question the girl as fast as possible.
"Are you deaf? What is wrong?" It read. She passed her phone to the other girl, letting her reply.
"Yes, I'm so, so sorry. I don't have a phone, and both of my pieces are out. I don't know what to do." Her's read. A frowning emoticon was a few spaces over. Setsuna also frowned, getting her phone back. That sucked, but it was manageable.
"Can we go to the front office? I'm sure they could call their mom, or maybe the nurse has some replacements for you?" Her new message said. The girl's face flickered through several expressions, many unpleasant. Setsuna didn't know why, but she pulled her phone back, tacking on "Or I can call your mom right here. Either is fine with me."
"I hate the office. The front desk lady sucks. Ableist. And I don't have a mom. Can we call my dad?"
"Yeah. Number? What should I say?"
She ended up calling the girl's dad, who dropped off a second pair at the school half an hour later. Once the girl could hear somewhat again, Setsuna received a million thanks, all of which she brushed off.
"It's no biggie girl, it's just what a nice guy would do."
She rode that good-samaritan feeling for the rest of the day, the bounce in her morning step making a fabulous return. Bouncing around the school kept her friend's spirits up, alongside custodial workers, teachers, and other staff. Setsuna received smiles, nods, and pats on the back aplenty from just about everyone. It felt great to be liked, to be appreciated.
Still, her shoulders drooped a bit as she stepped out of the gate. They'd been prim and strong all day, even through her boring classes and long lectures. They ached to stay like that; for her to go home and relax. Without the track team, she'd normally be home-free. Now, however, this confident blonde had other things to do, other places to go, and other people to see. Still, she loosened her top buttons, let her skirt ride up a little, and let her feet drag a bit.
She was borderline gliding up the stairs to Izuku's apartment as she fished the key out of her stockings. With a click and a twist, she was waltzing through the front door, waving to Ms. Midoriya while she discarded her backpack and shoes.
"Heya, Ms. M!" She said, her shoulders up, her bounce still strong and her glow still vibrant. Ms. Midoriya gave her a soft smile as she passed by. She shot through the apartment like lightning, always following the path of least resistance; a path she was familiar with, by this point.
It was a small apartment, with just about everything she'd come to expect out of the Midoriya's. They'd dedicated an entire wall cheesy photos, hero decor, and custom ornaments that gave the flat a homely flavor. The closest part of the photo dump was to the door, consisting of adorable baby photos and some young Inko pictures. It was a chronological gradient; captures of their earliest to their more recent memories. It had made her heart flutter, the first time she'd seen it.
Izuku had two arms in every photo, something she herself couldn't recall. Of course, she must've seen the boy once or twice before the accident, but he'd been so bland that it'd since slipped her mind. The photo wall had brought on a sense of sadness and grief. She couldn't empathize with losing an arm; literally, she'd just grow one back in that case. She could, however, sympathize.
One thing, she'd realized, was that Izuku didn't smile much. She'd thought it'd been due to the accident, the terrible trauma having broken the ability in him. The pictures, as loose of evidence as they were, pointed towards a less dramatic picture. It just seemed he wasn't very happy, before or after.
She caught a glimpse of her blondeness in the mirror, reminding herself of her goal. Even if he'd never been much of a smiler, Setsuna's goal was to turn that around. The old her might've done a decent job of cheering him up, but the new her was built from the ground up to do so. She'd be sure to squeeze at least one out of him today.
A final glimpse in the mirror reminded her that she, too, needed to smile. How was she supposed to cheer him on if she emoted like a porcelain doll?
"Knock knock, big guy!" She called, rapping her knuckles against her friend's door. A huff came through the barrier, exasperated. She held back a smirk; Izuku was sick of the nickname, but it was a tease that he'd come to accept. Calling him a "big guy" when she herself was taller always felt fun. The door creaked open, a singular green orb peaking out from the inner darkness.
"...Password?" He asked, before chuckling to himself, letting the door swing open by itself. He was already in his athlete wear, most of his prosthesis already off. She slapped the palm of his flesh hand, pulling back only to dive back in with a fist bump. Thank the lord, she thought, imagining a world where he'd lost his right hand instead of his left. Handshakes would be so awkward.
"Let me help out, man." She said, pointing to the sock-sleeve on what remained of his deltoid. Izuku shrugged, holding out his nub for her to slip it off.
""Preciate it, Set. Been stuck in this thing for like ten minutes." He said, his eyes putting on an air of gratitude. Setsuna snorted.
"Sure, like it wasn't a ploy to get a pretty girl to touch ya. Thank me by getting out of here." She said, hooking a thumb over to the door as she walked through it. Izuku rolled his eyes before walking out before she could see the blush she knew was there. Finally, some privacy.
Pulling open the top drawer of his dresser, she put the prosthesis sleeve alongside the others. Trailing her fingers down the cheap wood, she snagged open the handle of the bottom drawer. Pushing aside the odd assortment of socks and hero-themed unmentionables, she grabbed a pair of her own street clothes.
Not five minutes later, she left her horrendous uniform splayed out on his bed before walking back out to the living room. Finding Ms. Midoriya handing Izuku a bag of water bottles and power bars, she rolled her eyes.
Slipping an arm against his, she eased the bag off his hand. Sticking her tongue out, she put the back in her left hand, bouncing the back in place, conscious of the provisions within.
"Might as well put this extra part for use, right?" She said, making Ms. Midoriya hold back a chortle. It was good humor, she found, to call her left arm extra. It made her feel like she was reminding her friend that his losses weren't that bad. Izuku scowled, rolling his eyes even as mirth reflected in them.
"I don't need you to carry it for me, you know." He said, reaching his hand back out.
"Just like you don't need me to make fun of your Crimson Riot undies, yet here I am, doing it." This time, he couldn't turn away fast enough to hide his blush. His hand fell limp to his side as Ms. Midoriya's pseudo-seriousness cracked, real giggles slipping through.
"Alright you guys, stay safe and have fun. Dinner will be ready around six, but be back by five, please. I'll be making extra for you to take home, Setsuna." The older woman said, to Setsuna's horror.
"No, no! Don't go out of your way for us!" She said, waving her free hand as if that would stop her. Setsuna knew it wouldn't; the woman was too generous, too kind. Her son was similar, like that.
"I can and I will; with how much you come over, I might as well. We haven't hosted for a while, anyways. I hope this'll tide over your mother for a while; I know she's been craving my Katsudon." She said, giggling as Izuku twitched at the last word. Setsuna sighed, defeated.
[x]
Izuku let the way, weaving between the busy streets as adults began to flood out of the buildings. The duo had come well prepared for the afternoon surge; they knew the best path to their destination, and they'd be sure to follow it to a T, lest they risk the storm of busybody office workers sweeping them up. As always, they avoided alleyways, hero fights, and generally anybody who looked like bad news.
It wasn't a long walk, but it was intense and fast, requiring every effort to avoid the hurricane of workers. Still, they'd been getting better and better over the past month, ever since they discovered the new destination. Calculating in his head, he believed they were about halfway there when Setsuna started to lag behind. He panicked when he couldn't see her with a glance behind him, the tsunami of adults obscuring her visage.
Ignoring the way people looked at him in surprise and disgust, he doubled back, grabbing his friend's arm before they could swallow her in her entirety. It took a lot of strength, but he was able to wrestle her away from the crowd, pulling her into the nearest shop. Not bothering to check the sign above, the two stumbled in, lost for breath.
A few moments passed between the two, most of which Izuku spent confused. Not only was it unlike Setsuna to falter or slow, but yowls, screeching, and barks of about every variety bombarded his eardrums.
"Hey, hey! Relax, Kori Koda, young lady I said relax! Are you alright, kids?" A woman said, walking up to them. Izuku's eyes widened as he realized the cacophony of creatures was actually the work of a quirk; that of a little, odd-looking girl. Setsuna nodded, shaken.
"Y-yeah, we just got caught up in the rush…" She said, before turning to Izuku. "My bad, I guess I zoned out."
Izuku nodded, filing it away for later. Instead, his interest focused on the two girls before him, clearly family. Even though they weren't pleasant to look at, neither he nor Setsuna let it show on their face; both were intimately familiar with deformities, thanks to Izuku. Their heads looked like rock formations, air sealed with a layer of rubbery skin on the outside. Behind them were cages, creatures of all varieties filling them by the dozen.
Dogs, cats, birds, lizards, and even what Izuku suspected to be a quirk-possessing marsupial within a reinforced cage littered the shop. It was an odd sight.
"Umm… hello? Sorry to bother you, we'll… uh, be heading out now, I think." Izuku said, tugging on the back hem of Setsuna's shirt.
"Oh, of course. You wouldn't be the only people to have come to escape the rush, it gets quite busy down this street. Sorry for my daughter, her quirk control is very poor. Have a nice day. C'mon, Kori. Go back upstairs." The woman said, turning the young girl away as she began to whisper into the girl's ear, clearly scolding her. Her small shoulders slumped, sad. Setsuna began to turn away, but Izuku hesitated, the words on his tongue doing their best to break free. Izuku was many things, but reticent he was not.
"Hey! K-kori? Your quirk is pretty cool! Goodbye now!" He called out, before whipping around and escaping the shop, Setsuna held onto by the wrist. Izuku didn't catch the way the girl beamed, happy meows slipping through her teeth, but he didn't need to. It wasn't about gratitude, just spreading some love. He didn't catch the way Setsuna stared at him, mouth slightly agape and goosebumps hovering where his skin touched hers.
By the time they got back onto their path, the streets had cleared somewhat, giving them enough room that Izuku felt awkward standing holding onto his friend. He let go but didn't move further away. In fact, Setsuna got closer, standing right on his left as she typically did. In public, she was his left hand.
He didn't verbalize his concern for Setsuna, but he couldn't help but pick out how much she'd changed since Middle School had started. His mother brushed off his concern for her, reminding him that Middle School always changed girls.
Of course, he understood that. Setsuna would shoot up like a beanstalk soon, her chest would grow, and if she wasn't already, she'd start wearing pads. Puberty would hit her like a truck, changing how she acted, rewiring how she thought. By the time she'd graduate Middle School, she'd be a dramatically different girl. He knew that.
Puberty didn't explain the dark circles under her eyes, the constant minuscule droop in her posture, the way her strides were longer than her legs were built for. He doubted anyone bar her parents had noticed, and even Mr. and Mrs. Tokage seemed to not bring it up, at least not when he was around. Setsuna was tired, exhausted even, all the time. He leaned into her, as if to reassure himself she wouldn't lag behind again. They'd go easy today, he decided.
Soon, they arrived with no more troubles. Keeping his eye on Setsuna, he walked their forged path, keeping his hands away from the debris that piled higher than their height plus half. Tetanus was scary, his mother had warned.
Dagobah Beach was a joke, with the "Beach" being the punchline. Maybe four decades ago, it'd been a pristine tourist spot, but no more. Those same tourists had littered so much that the three-odd mile stretch of crystalline sand had morphed and twisted into nothing more than a landfill next to the sea. Those same locals complaining about the unsightly state of the beach were also problematic, treating the landfill as people with trash often did. That same sea that defined the beach also put its best foot forward into ruining it, carrying the ocean's trash directly to the shore of Dagobah by the will of Mother Nature herself.
It was a dream of Izuku's to one day play on the clean sand of this beach, perhaps alongside his family and some helpful friends. As it was—as he was, the best he could do was organize the debris and use the camouflage of the upwards of seven-meter high trash walls to get in some pubic practice.
It was the perfect spot; he couldn't bring Setsuna to Nighteye's warehouse, and neither of their quirks were really worth practicing indoors except on the tightest, most concise scale possible. Out here, they had enough fresh air and leg room to let loose, so long as they didn't actually strain anything. The whole point of these get-togethers wasn't to push their limits but to practice well within them. Izuku would only hurt himself, given these were his rest days. Setsuna may be fine, given her preferred sport was out of season, but she preferred to match his more relaxed pace.
Izuku was more than happy to oblige, already uncomfortable with how tired Setsuna was coming into today. Going through a dedicated pile of useful trash, Izuku got them junk lawn chairs to relax in.
A twenty-meter oval of debris surrounded them, reminding Izuku of a mix of a colosseum and Sasami's lecture hall. It was here they spent most of their time; a home away from home for them both.
Setsuna slumped into her cracked and stained lawn chair, her eyes slightly glazed over. He ignored the way his heart fluttered as he watched her. Her eyelids were drooping, like she was about to fall asleep. Sighing, he grabbed their discarded bag, peeling open a power bar wrapper. Pocketing the trash, he tossed it in her direction, bonking it off her forehead.
"If you were this tired, maybe we should've stayed in my room. You could've napped there if you wanted." He said, watching in morose amusement as she scrambled to catch the bar before it got into the sand. She just barely grabbed it before it touched the ground, only saving it by popping her hand off her wrist to do so. She pouted, before sending her other hand over to pinch him.
"I'm not tired! We just had a lot of lectures today. Something Mr. "I've burned through half my high school work already" wouldn't understand." She said, beginning to nibble on the food.
"Sure, like listening is all that draining. Just don't work yourself to the bone, please." Izuku said, taking a power bar for himself. Setsuna looked away, staring into a particularly interesting grain of sand.
"I'm really not that tired. I know you aren't, either, so let's get to work!" She said, standing up. Literally unhinging her jaw like a snake, she gobbled up the rest of her power bar in one motion; Izuku took small, slow bites in comparison. By the time he finished, Setsuna was already up and about, stretching, floating, and whizzing around at her heart's content.
Izuku was slow to stand, taking ginger steps on his left foot as he shifted into a comfortable stance. It was presumptuous of Setsuna to assume he wasn't tired, but he supposed he'd gotten better at hiding it. His calves quivered, the silent burn he'd been ignoring coming back to life as he bent his knees.
As he revved One for All's engine, the familiar headache he'd been experiencing the past few months renewed itself, but it did little to inhibit him. He'd grown accustomed to it. No medication or home remedies did anything, no explanations made sense. At first, they'd only show up when his adrenaline shot up, but it'd since expanded to include any time One for All was on under his skin.
Of course, one might think to just not use his quirk, but that wasn't on the table for Izuku. His quirk was his life; his past, present, and future. To not use One for All would be letting a little pain win, so he'd learned to keep his complaints quiet as he dealt with it. It wasn't so different from phantom pain.
So, maybe he couldn't help it, being a hypocrite, but he still felt concerned for Setsuna. She wasn't acting herself, she was overworking herself, and she wasn't as happy as she'd once been. Something was hiding beneath her outer shell, and it felt like Izuku was the only one concerned. He couldn't understand why it was just him, why she ignored it herself. Still, theorizing it and proving it were different. He just hoped she handled it herself before someone—or something—handled it for her. It hadn't gone well for him, personally.
Letting out a deep exhale—filled with concern, exertion, and stress, he started leaking a bit of smoke. He didn't know what to do about Setsuna's new attitude, but he could at least show her the respect of matching her vigor.
[x]
Dinner with the Midoriyas was good as always. Not very healthy, if her expanding understanding of dieting was to be believed, but good. Delicious, even. So much so that she almost waddled home, the fried goodness sitting like a rock in her stomach. Izuku had walked her halfway home, but she'd managed to shoo him off with a bit of effort. Really, the last thing her full belly needed was more butterflies.
Her fingers felt like lead wrapping around the cold metal of the store's entrance, the rest of her body just as heavy. Too heavy to climb the latter; if she bent her knees, she'd keel over. Her body felt wet asphalt, but she pushed through, breaking into all her major parts and floating upstairs. Flying felt like she was a zeppelin, spiraling ever downwards towards a fiery death, but she pushed through. Reassembling into a Setsuna-shaped person, she dropped into her kitchen, knees burning with the impact. She reached her hand out to drop the bag of leftovers onto the dining table, but cursed as she realized her elbows were on backward.
She rearranged her limbs, this time checking to make sure all her parts were in order before heading off to her room. All she wanted to do was go and lay in her bed, her face buried in her steggo's belly—fuck, she had homework. Her shoulders drooped, truly drooped, for the first time all day, with no intentions of straightening themselves later. Her trek to her room was a straight line, but each step felt more strenuous than the last.
At first, she thought she was finally about to pass out, until she realized her ankles were glowing a subtle green.
"I think we need to have a talk." The voice of her father said, echoing around the dimly lit living room. Her entire inner ecosystem flinched, every creature and plant in her inner sanctuary wincing in unison. Stomach-churning, she shifted around to look at her father. He'd gotten skinnier, in the past few months. He wasn't a healthy man anymore; more skin than muscle, more bone than blood. His salt and pepper head had begun to lean more toward salt. It must've been taking a decent amount of effort to hold her ankles, even as she wasn't actively fighting it. It made her feel guilty.
"Sorry, not t'night." She muttered, popping her upper body off her knees before floating away. Her father did nothing to stop her, only watching in silence as she escaped him. A few minutes passed before she felt the familiar pressure on her ankles disperse, allowing them to follow her.
Slinging her backpack off her shoulders, she sat on her bed, fingering through the dozens of papers she had to read and work on. Math, history, language, social studies, technology, athletic forms… It was all too much, tonight. The back of her throat burned as she put all the papers back, shame fueling the stinging in the corners of her eyes.
She fell asleep like that.
[x]
AN: So, last chapter was posted, but it didn't seem to make it to the main page? Like you guys got notified, but it never went to the MHA page. Anyways, thanks for the reviews; I got a really flattering one and one that was really critical, so I would call that a success. Yeah, I guess this has turned into a slow burn, which is unfortunate, since the truly-really fun stuff happens once the school arc starts, but I've been enjoying the little character stuff. Plus, having Izuku organically grow to be OP is way better than me just skipping straight to the OPness, don't you agree? I think I'll take a break before it happens, but I'm starting to lean towards chapter thirty being the definitive schools start. This is still free writing, though, so that's just conjecture.
Review! Also, I just finished reading the Song of Achilles and holy fuck. "I remember." That shit had me bawling.