Izuku was a green blur as he dashed to the left, barely avoiding Shoto's scarlet burst. Shoto's barrage continued, each blast having varying properties. Small and fast, wide and sweeping, tall and wild; he threw every combination he could think of at the boy, yet Izuku remained unsinged.
"Alright, call it!" His father said from the sidelines, raising his hand. The last of Shoto's flames shrank on his wrist; a self-high-five patting the rest out. Though he made no outward expression, he couldn't help the tingling of annoyance that built in his chest.
They'd been going at it for a solid five minutes—a hefty length of time to be fighting at full-force, and yet Izuku remained unblemished. The only marks to his features were flushed cheeks and a sticky forehead, while Shoto was sporting a bruise to his shoulder and scuff on his cheek.
"I still don't get how they thought failing you was a good idea." Shoto muttered, grabbing an offered water bottle from his father alongside his friend. "You're kicking my butt."
Izuku didn't reply to him at first, his eyes locked on his water. Shoto waited for his reply; Izuku had heard him, and would answer him on his own time. His eyebrows scrunched together as his focus on his bottle cap wavered. He shrugged and took a sip.
"Nighteye laid it all out on the table for me. Mr. Nedzu's been keeping tabs on all of us, but isn't sure I'm capable yet… I think? I believe the word he used with Nighteye was "inconsistent." Izuku said, before taking another swig. "Which I can kind of see, I guess. Not every quirk is viable in every situation, and my manpower is otherwise fundamentally lacking."
"It's still bullshit—"
"Shoto!" Enji interjected. "You—"
"—It's fucked up, that's what. You're too good to keep out. It's ableism, I think."
"He's a rat, Shoto. I don't think he has those preconceptions. In any case, it won't matter, in the long run. Don't forget about the Sports Festival. I'll slip into the class right before your license test."
"Obviously, but aren't you angry? I feel like—"
The expression that flashed across Izuku's face almost startled him. It was alien; not meant to be on the green bean's face. If Shoto had to liken it to anything, he might call it a "void."
It was like all the emotion in his face escaped down his throat, leaving just the neutral flesh. His eyes were deep, but startlingly empty; the overhead glint of light reflected matt and dull on his irises.
And then it was back, and the firmness of his neck muscles visibly relaxed.
"Boys." Enji said, and the strange moment passed as they turned to him. "Are you ready for your next match? Midoriya, you have two days until your test. How willing are you to stress your body beforehand? I know you're only recently out of bedrest."
Izuku replied in a strained tone; a hint of that void-like expression from before coming to half-light.
"I will do what I must today so I won't have to do it tomorrow. Another few matches with Shoto should be good. Shoto?" Izuku said, turning to him.
He bit the inside of his lip, looking at his friend. An uneasiness had replaced the earlier annoyance, reminding him of the boy's focus. Izuku had always been the most diligent in his training. As for Shoto—while he could go a few more rounds, their fourth bout had him winded. He hadn't planned on maxing out today, either.
"Actually… Today isn't a full sparring day for me. I'd prefer to cap it sooner rather than later."
Izuku tilted his head, hearing his response. With his brow scrunched together, he might've seemed disappointed—if not for the mischievous gleam in his eye. The boy turned from Shoto then, his focus settling onto the sturdy form of Shoto's father.
"Mr. Todoroki…" Izuku said, staring up at the man. Enji stared back down at the younger man in silence, his eyes darting from Izuku to his son and back. All Shoto offered him was a shrug.
"Hmmm…" Enji hummed, glancing down at his own clothes. His father wore a tank and sweats here, his hero suit in the wash. Shoto couldn't tell if these were his fireproof sweats or not, but from the way Enji stepped forward, he could only hope they were.
"Ready yourself, Midoriya. Push yourself—I will not take away your birthright the way Eraserhead did."
"...Yes, sir." Izuku said, his backfoot already shifted behind him.
Shoto dragged a chair to the edge of the sparring area. This was a spectacle to be sure—Izuku came over to train with Shoto often enough, but Izuku had not engaged Enji directly since the first time he ever came over.
Memories trudged back up from the past; of Izuku's infantile quirk-control, of Nighteye and their first spar. It'd been a good day, so far as Shoto had seen it. In retrospect however, it'd been the beginning of a hard time for Izuku.
It was funny the way things came full circle. Even after so much time, Izuku was back, and driven to prove himself more than ever. This, even more so than the last time, was a beginning—and better one, at that.
"Shoto. Two minutes." His father said.
Voidlimb burst from Izuku's shoulder and weaved itself together seamlessly as lankier, independent tentacles grew from his back. Izuku made no show of himself—his power just did what he trained it to do.
His father took no such time, however. As soon as the last of Izuku's back-tentacles came forth, Enji moved. For being a fire-based hero, his movements had all the grace of an Olympic ice skater, his feet liquifying the concrete as he rushed Izuku down. For all his father's faults, Shoto could not begrudge his sheer skill. It'd taken decades of dedicated practice for his movements to become this perfected.
Izuku was no slouch himself, however. He met Enji in the middle, his pearlescent smoke bomb clashing against Enji's precise ball of flame. His father's had more natural strength, but Izuku'd put more effort into it. There was a decisive split between their attacks as they exploded against each other, a straight vertical barrier between their powers.
Before the smoke even cleared, however, he saw Izuku use his whips to jerk him to the far side, giving him a new angle on Enji. Just as he readied an attack, however, his father dived straight into the core of their last attack, shrouding himself in mystery.
Shoto leaned forward in his chair, straining his eyes at the following exchange. Smoke exploded out of Izuku in the same moment, equally shrouding himself. The difference, however, was that Izuku had full function over the cover. Endeavor's hiding place dissipated as Izuku ripped its material free and added it to his own, creating a bog of green fury.
He'd never been able to understand the full extent of Izuku's abilities—and the following was just another question on top of the mountain. It was like he could find his father's location by scent alone.
Bursting from the swirling green mass came Izuku's black whips, snatching at Enji's limbs like starving snakes. A pair of intertwined whips came slicing down from above, slamming into Endeavor's shoulder just as another wrapped around the man's off-wrist. The debilitating whip wrenched the man off his feet just as a third and forth came striking down.
Before they could reach his father, however, the man's main hand burst into crimson fire. It cut through the whip like a knife through butter, and its sheer heat stalled the incoming limbs. It only gave him a moment, but it was enough for him to gather himself.
"Careful!" He yelled, before slamming the insides of his wrists together. Shoto could only gape as his father's palms began to glow. In a brilliant flash of light, his father launched his flame-burst with the force of a canon.
The impact rocked the room as it punctured straight through the smoke and rocked against the fireproof wall—it didn't melt, but the sheer kinetic force almost knocked Shoto off his chair.
Before Shoto could cry out or even straighten himself, however, Izuku exploded into the light. Like a comet breaching the atmosphere, a trail of smoke chased his shadow. He remained untouched bar Voidlimb, which hung half-melted and smoking at his side. There was a wildness to his eyes as he leapt into the air. That crazed fury spread to what remained of Voidlimb as he pulled back for a heavy shot. Enji stood his ground, crossing his forearms together with a trickle of flames eating away at his sleeves.
Izuku didn't wait to touch the ground. Whips burst from Voidlimb's stub in a bundle, neither weaved together or independent. Right before impact, each of the ends knotted together, and they hit Shoto's father like a mallet and a gong.
The hit jarred his father's block, forcing him backwards until the strength of his calves halted his slide. By the time Izuku's sneakers met the ground, those six limbs had re-braided themselves into a new Voidlimb. Izuku made no move to advance—instead, he brandished Voidlimb like a bloodied sword and waited. The tiny crackle of fire behind him only further highlighted the darkness of his technique.
Shoto considered himself highly proficient to survive a training session with his father in one piece. Izuku considered an actual spar with his father a workout. It wasn't so much a gap in ability as it was one in confidence—but there was a definitive shift in framing. Shoto trained to become a great hero, whatever that entailed. Izuku trained to be the greatest one.
It didn't hurt his feelings. There was a sting to the knowledge, but there was more pride than anything. Izuku was incredible—to bounce back from his loss was impressive enough as is, but then to also immediately jump back into his training? It was a level of dedication Shoto was desperate to find in himself. To see it in his friend sparked a hint of jealousy, but the fire itself was a positive one.
His father paused to pull his shirt from his body—he didn't bother pulling it overhead, since it was weak enough to simply rip from his frame. Izuku took the same time to form a series of light smoke bombs in his hand; but these ones were a little odd. Instead of the same green-black color his emissions usually were, these had more variety by far. Lime, forest, swamp, neon, blue and yellow—it was all mixed together in Izuku's palm.
Not wasting any more time, Endeavor turned on the jets. Flames burst from his shoulder blades in a frenzy, propelling him even faster than his molten skating from before. Izuku barely had time to react as an un-ignited punch clocked his elbow as Izuku blocked. The hit devastated Izuku's right guard, exposing his scarred jaw. Before the second hit could connect, however, smoke burst from his ribs in a concentrated blast. The gaseous-geyser caught Enji in the gut, launching him to the opposite side of the room.
A flaming back-fist broke apart the smoke-attack as Izuku jumped back, putting even more distance between them. He rubbed his elbow, testing it for himself. From what Shoto could see, it had a full range of motion—but Izuku's wince told him enough.
More whips came from his shoulder—his flesh shoulder—and wrapped across his arm down to the mid-forearm. There was something off about them, however—unlike the tentacles of Voidlimb, these ones were not nearly as cohesive. They slithered on their own like a sleeve of living snakes, and they were not happy. Still, Izuku seemed content, and reengaged Shoto's father as Enji burst towards him once more.
Their exchange was furious; they both infused their limbs with their element, now—though Enji's flames only burned a dim orange. One by one, Izuku's alternative colored orbs popped, each having a different effect.
The neon one broke apart like shrapnel, micro orbs replacing sheer kinetic force. The yellow one popped as if layered; the outermost skin bursting, then the second, and then the core for a three-parted delayed attack. The forest-green one never actually popped—instead it came crashing against Enji like a mace, impacting him like a solid object rather than a bomb.
Shoto didn't even want to imagine the mental fortitude it took to manage them all and engage his father in hand-to-hand combat. In fact, he doubted Izuku did either.
His incredible manipulations were an obvious draw on his attention, and with the fight moving at his father's pace, the distraction was Izuku's downfall. In a step milliseconds slower than it needed to be, Izuku became a sitting duck in Enji's optimal range. Shoto's father blasted aside Izuku's loosened guard, a rocket-powered punch closing in on his—
"Time!" Shoto said, jumping to his feet as his phone went off.
At the exact same moment, Enji's flames died and the full strength of his punch receded. Izuku was slower to the realization, and his remaining multi-colored orbs popped as his brain caught up with his ears. His body, on the other hand, was still catching up to his brain, and he found himself tripping over his feet while re-establishing his guard.
Shoto was quick to join Izuku's side and help him up. He was burning to the touch—though he wasn't sure if that was because of Enji's blows or his own heated constitution.
"You alright?" He asked, but Izuku waved him off.
"I'm optimal." Izuku replied, before turning to Shoto's still-smoldering father. "Sir?"
Shoto didn't know what to expect next, but it wasn't a mutual bow.
"It's, ah, been an… honor as always, sir." Izuku said, his bow at the waist. Enji's by comparison was far lighter, but it was there.
"You have a question. Probably several, knowing you. Is that right, Midoriya?" Enji asked. Izuku nodded, returning to his full height. Shoto noticed how he pulled his shoulders back to match his father's gait, despite being nearly two feet shorter.
"Yes. Can I…?"
His father grunted, turning away to grab a water bottle.
"If you're asking me for a criticism, boy, I don't have much to offer. You know what to improve on already. If, perhaps, you're asking how you stack up, then it's much the same. The only way to know your limits is to test yourself against your betters—though if you want honesty, I'd say you're rather good. Keep at it."
Izuku's eyes, for a moment, flickered back to their earlier emptiness. Shoto had no time to dissect the reaction before he bowed again, however.
"Thank you, sir—but… I have another question. Can I… What does it mean to be the Number One Hero? How—what should I strive for?"
His father slowed, in a sense, at Izuku's question. He doubted a normal person would notice any difference, but with Shoto's exceptional heat sensitivity, he knew his father had gone a smidge colder. No more than by a degree or two—but enough for a definable drop. Enji's water bottle crinkled in his hands.
As for Shoto, his stomach curdled at the question. Not for any personal reason—no, he just knew his father well enough to never want to ask.
"..." His father said nothing as he replaced the cap on his bottle, his eyes upturned. "...What should you strive for? You ask me this?"
Izuku nodded.
"Mhm. You've… been number one for five years. I only recently realized I've never asked about it before—really, it's like I've taken it for granted. So… what was it all for?"
The temperatures dipped again—but instead of leveling out, they soon reversed course. They didn't soar—his eyes didn't water, his hair didn't frizz, his cheeks didn't flush—but his father settled several notches above where he'd been before. Even his father's gaze seemed to turn heated, his gaze settling on Izuku's shoulders like a molten anvil.
"What does it all mean? You're asking the worst person in that regard, boy. Don't ride that train of thought again." Endeavor said, his words stinging their ears. For a moment, they brought Shoto back several years, but instead of ramping up his heat, Enji only seemed capable of maintaining it for mere moments. His gaze turned soft—near melancholic—and he placed a half-apologetic hand on Izuku's stiff shoulder.
"Your skill transcends Nedzu's arbitrary reasoning. You are skilled, and you proved that against my son. You are strong, and you proved that against me. You are brave, and you proved that against Eraserhead. You are, in my eyes, ready for U.A. Now, if you wish to figure out the meaning behind being the best, then you must test it with your own hand. Good luck."
Izuku's head jerked to the side like he'd seen a ghost over Enji's shoulder, but he was quick to right himself and nod.
"I appreciate your time, sir."
"I'm glad, because we're out of it. My patrol is soon. Dismissed."
With that, Shoto's father turned about-face and walked out the door, pausing only to give them one last look before turning the corner and taking his leave.
It was odd, seeing his father act so cordially. He'd never become truly accustomed to it—not after Touya.
Glancing between his retreating father and Izuku, he found a conflict deep in his gut. His curiosity was killing him; no matter where his thoughts took him, they always came back to Izuku's question. It was one he'd never had the gaul to ask… yet he'd grown excited. Somewhere, deep down, he'd always wanted the answer. Yet… hearing his father's response only cemented what he already suspected.
There was something deeply wrong with his father.
Oh well.
"Shower? And food?" Shoto asked, turning back to Izuku.
Izuku blinked like he hadn't heard, but spoke regardless.
"A shower sounds good right about now. I can't eat though. Setsuna's… been wanting to talk. She texted me this morning." He said, rubbing at his neck.
Shoto's eyebrow curled up, surprised.
"You sound like it was strange. Is anything… going on between you?" He asked, thinking of his two friends. In the last week since Setsuna had run off from Izuku's hospital bed, he'd only heard radio silence from her. He'd imagined that she was just blowing him off alone, but…
"It's the first I've heard from her all week. I can't skip out on this."
That was worrying. He wasn't in love with her in the way Izuku liked to hide, but he was still worried. She hadn't taken Izuku's beat-down well—really, she seemed to take it worse than him.
"Of course. Give her my best, then."
"Planned on it."
[x]
Setsuna leaned over the railing, her thumbnails indenting the fine paper of her envelope. Far below, the river waves crashed against the supports with a fervor that hinted to a coming storm.
Her gut was swirling with a million feelings—and none of them were good. An evil nostalgia was lurking in this place; the newest piece of infrastructure in the prefecture—a bridge to replace the one that had borderline collapsed years ago. Nausea permeated her whole form as she stood on the reconstructed pedestrian path. It was a near one-to-one replication, and the ghost of memories overlaid atop her visions in between blinks. There was no better place, she'd decided. The last time they had a heavy talk was here, after all, so today made tradition.
Then there were the feelings beyond her unease, anxiety, and her Deja Vu. Anger. Embarrassment. Nerves. Frustration. They were a tornado of negativity that forced her to keep her lunch light.
There was a familiar footstep to her side, so she steadied herself. Setsuna'd made a promise to herself years ago, and she would follow through with it.
When she turned, Izuku was there. He looked good; not unusual, but his hair was a little wet and there was a shine on his features that radiated quiet satisfaction. It made her queasy. The envelope in her hand slipped behind her back, out of his sight.
"Hey," he offered, and she sighed.
"Hey. How were the Todos? Did Endeavor give you a hard time?"
"He almost broke my arm, but other than that it was great. I should be back at 100% for the retake." Izuku said, shrugging the indicated arm. The weather wasn't very cold, but there was a chill on the bridge that you could only find on the open water. She inhaled the sea breeze—another vain attempt to calm herself—before what Izuku said clicked.
"You fought Endeavor!?"
He shrugged, but there was a small smile tugging on his lips.
"Fought would be a strong word. He kinda crushed me; but I did okay. At least by his standards. I wish I would've won, though."
A huff escaped her before she could reel it back in. It almost disgusted her, the way he could bring her out of her own head without trying. Still—that was why she was doing this. Why she was going to do so, at least. Her guard fell a bit as she responded.
"Of course you'd think like that. I'd be lucky to just survive him."
Izuku's brow scrunched.
"Says the girl who violated Vlad freaking King. There's a reason you're gonna be 1Z's queen, you know. That Yaoyorozu girl is gonna be fighting tooth and nail for your position."
And then her bubble popped, and the trickle of nausea burst into a raging flood. Setsuna wobbled in place, the hand holding onto her envelope flicking out to catch herself on the rail. Izuku's eyes darted to her hand instantly, his half-step forward petering out in confusion.
"What—" He tried to ask, but she swallowed hard and shoved a hand in his face.
"No. I'm—thank you, so much, but I can't be "1Z's queen." Setsuna said, getting her curdling stomach under control. "Really, thank you. You don't have a freaking clue what that kind of thing means to me, but I just won't be."
"...I'm confused. I mean, yes, Yaoyorozu seems to have a wide array of talents, but so do you! I mean, you literally stepped on Vlad—"
"God, you're making this so hard. Your confidence is sweet, Izu, but I'm not joining the class."
And all of a sudden Izuku disappeared, and in his place was an empty stranger, dull and deep and almost scary. Setsuna paused, confused, but then the words spilled out before she could consider his reaction.
"I—I've been thinking about this all week, Izuku, and I can't get it out of my head that you got fucked over. That Nedzu is an asshole, and that no matter what happens 1Z will always be built on unfairness. I… I don't want to be in the class if that's the case, Izu, and I especially don't want to be in the class if you're not in it."
He took a half-step forward; and at two meters away, closed the gap a bit. The words, now that they'd started, wouldn't stop. They tumbled out of her faster and faster, her jaw almost struggling to keep up as the emotions applied more and more pressure to her throat.
"So tonight, I'm going to have my dad email the school and reject the invitation. I can't trust them anymore, Izu, and I don't want to. If you weren't so dead set on the school, I'd forge your signature and take you to Shiketsu with me."
The eyes he stared at her with were a shade darker than his normal green hue, but she trudged on. He took a full step forward. Tears were beginning to prick in her eyes.
"I know that you were excited for me when I won, but I just… I just can't. Not with a good conscience, not with knowing how they singled you out. I just can't go to that class without you, Izuku."
When the dull, void-like stranger before her stepped forward one more time, he grabbed her. It should've been obvious—the way his palm hung at his ribs, the way he stepped into her chest, the way his cheek rested against hers—but she only registered it as an embrace once his hand met the small of her back.
Her own limbs hung limp at her sides, her envelope dropping to the floor from her loosened grasp.
He held her there for a moment before pulling back, and there was a fraction of his usual glow back in his eyes. For a second, it was bright, and she forgot herself—but then they hardened, and he bonked his forehead against hers.
"Thank you. But no."
The breath in her lungs—and the heart next to them—-jerked. The whiplash to her emotions were violent, and she found herself pushing herself away from him.
"No? What?"
And then this hardened Izuku blinked, and he was a void again.
"1Z is the best course in the best school. Nedzu's decision was based on my inconsistency, and beyond that my own issues with my quirk and PTSD. What unfairness you saw will ultimately be to my—and our—benefit. He wants to personally clear me before I take your licensing test. So no. You shouldn't waste your free ticket because of spite."
His voice was robotic and grating on her ears. Did he even hear himself? Nedzu's decision was not that of an empathetic, normal human but a scheming rat. She would always respect Nedzu, but he'd taken it too far for her to trust.
"This isn't about spite! He literally—literally!—paid a grown man to beat you unconscious! If for whatever reason he truly wanted to test you personally, then he shouldn't have let you take the test at all"
"Eraserhead clearly didn't enjoy it much. I don't… blame him for doing his job."
"Then blame him for being a dick! What is wrong with you, Izu? Don't pivot! Aren't you angry? You were bullied by an adult man, your future's been put in question, and we're being torn apart from our dream! Why am I the only one who is fucking furious here!? Do you even care?"
Izuku froze, stepping away from her as Setsuna's words crashed down on his shoulders. Before—Izuku? The apathetic stranger?—could unfreeze, she bent down and snatched up her 1Z envelope.
"This! This thing is just another piece of icing on the cake! He made this before I even passed the test! Nedzu is psychotic. There's a prediction of my spar on the second page, and it's almost a perfect recreation of my match! If I join 1Z, it's just going to be more of his bullshit, and you're going to get the brunt of it. They're playing with you, Izu, and I don't want to be a part of it!"
Izuku was a stone statue as her voice cracked towards the end. Without preamble, she took Nedzu's letter and crushed it, tossing it over the railing in the same fashion.
As soon as it was over the edge and out of sight, she felt a milliliter of regret pool in her stomach, but she stomped it. Setsuna'd promised herself that she'd pick him up when he broke, and she would not separate from him. She couldn't allow it—joining the group that had scorned Izuku made her sick to her stomach, no matter how beneficial it might be. No matter how badly she wanted to.
And yet, with her eyes so focused on where the letter had tumbled off the edge, she hadn't seen Izuku move.
Exactly where her eyes had last registered the letter, a body leapt over the side after it.
A shrill scream leapt from her throat as she tripped over herself to reach the ledge. Before any rational thought even crossed her mind, she was halfway over the railing after him. What happened? Did he trip? Did he just decide he didn't want to live anymore? Did he—
When she jumped after him, things like overpowering terminal velocity and air resistance became distant memories. Splitting three ways apart, she pushed past both with her telekinetic strength. The sheer speed of her descent forced her eyes to close, the wind too much to see clearly—but she could still feel, and she knew when Izuku's arms wrapped around her.
He pulled her top half up on his ascent, not bothering to let her go even as she could fly on her own. Upon landing, she reconnected and fell to a knee, happy to be on the ground and nursing a terrible embarrassment. A glance around eased her worries; they were the only pedestrians on the path.
Realizing they were alone and safe, she grabbed him by the shoulders and began shaking him like a tree in a hurricane.
"What the fuck! What the fuck! What-the-fuck! What—"
Izuku's hand rested against her cheek just as one of his black whips bumped into her sternum, holding Nedzu's letter. His eyes were hard again, but the light gleamed off them in a way that made her halt her assault. Without thinking, she let go of his shirt and took the crumpled paper from his quirk. She didn't step back, and could feel the soft, warm huffs of breath from his nose on her own.
He leaned forward a smidge, and while her chin instinctually tilted upwards, his eyes suddenly changed. Just for a microsecond; an instant, a single moment. For a fraction of a fraction of a moment, they were furious—and then they were back to their familiar softness, all apathy and wrath gone.
"...Set, I know you're angry. I know—because I am too. I just… I don't want you to think I'm not, but I need to get into 1Z. I need it so badly that I might die without it, and if I throw a… tantrum, there's no way I'm getting in. And… if you're not there when I finally squeeze in… I don't know what I'd do. I want you to wait for me."
God, she wanted to kiss him. The urge was strong—but the guilt was stronger, and kept her in check. They inched back in unison, and by then the chance was gone and she had to deal with the greater reality. Her ears trained onto the tail end of his declaration, drinking them in as a form of distraction.
"...Wait for you?" She asked, and he nodded.
"I won't be long—I know what they did to me was wrong, and they'll get their comeuppance, but their own system has an in-built way for me to join you. I'll win the Sports Festival, and they'll have no choice but to let me in. If you don't join it, we'd have to compete for the spot. So please. Deal with it. For me?"
There were a million things that she wanted to say to that. In some ways, she wanted to just toss him overboard again, but on the other hand, she was puddy in his hands. If he was going to join 1Z anyways… It made her stomach twist, but if it was what he truly wanted, she had no right to deny him.
"Fine," Setsuna said, closing the gap between them again and wrapping him in a hug. "I'll bite the bullet. I'll join Nedzu's nightmare, and I'll wait for you. But if they don't let you test with us, I'm requesting a transfer. That is non-negotiable. So is what I'm going to say to Eraserhead next time I see him."
Izuku was rigid in her hug, but he relaxed into her after a second.
"Of course. And thank you, Set. I know how you feel. You earned your place, however, and it would kill me to see you throw it away."
She squeezed his ribs a little tighter.
"I just hope you can release some of that anger soon. Dr. Fujimaki better be doing you good."
"Oh," Izuku said, and she could just tell he was smiling into her ear. "Letting loose is the plan. I'm shooting for the stars in the exam, Set. The god-damn stars."
[x]
Izuku Midoriya: Hey, could we meet up? I have some questions about U.A.
Mirio: Surezies. Gimme a time—I'm open till next semester. What do ya wanna know?
Izuku Midoriya: Oh, just some things.
[x]
Inko was a woman. That was perhaps her only consistency, beyond her motherhood and self-proclaimed duty to spread as much goodwill and kindness as she could manage. She was a sturdy woman, a gentle woman, a loving woman, a vicious woman. She was malleable, and that was a great strength of hers.
Transitioning from a steady relationship to being a single mother had been difficult, but she'd learned and adapted. When they'd diagnosed her baby as quirkless, she'd done her best to not instill false hope into him. Izuku losing his arm had been a tragic change for his lifestyle, but she liked to think she imparted some of her fluidity into him, and they'd learned and managed ever since. Even when the secret of All Might dropped into her lap, she'd leaned into it and defended her child's claim when he needed it most.
And when Izuku'd failed his test, she rebranded his congratulations cake into a consolation prize.
Izuku was not her, however, and as much as he'd gained her flexibility, he'd acquired an even greater stubbornness from his father. She pinched and rubbed the fabric of her skirt, watching him click a pen over and over again. He sat in the middlemost seat of the couch, staring dead ahead at the clock. Below him was a half-full backpack, an apple, and nestled in his lap was a half-filled notepad. Inko hadn't found it in herself to ask what he'd written.
Biting her lip, she turned on her heel and beelined for her kettle. They still had time—and even if her son appeared like a stone statue now, she knew he was as tumultuous inside as she was on the outside. Her hands were quicker than her brain, and half a minute later the tea was already beginning to boil.
Peering back into the living, she found her son hadn't moved an inch.
"Tea?" She asked, shaky but without a stutter.
His eyes flicked to hers as his pen-clicking paused.
"Yes please." His pen began clicking again. Nodding, she slipped back to the kettle and made sure to give it a thorough inspection.
At first, she'd been shocked. Nighteye had sat both herself and her son down and described how the test went and Nedzu's stance behind it—yet she still couldn't wrap her brain around it. She didn't know much about heroics, but she knew her baby had talent. An exceptional amount. But the millisecond it came to her understanding that he hadn't lost fairly, and that a greater design sidelined him, that confusion turned to anger.
And then anxiety. Her fury had drained as quickly as Izuku decided to take the standard exam and began acting this way.
It wasn't that she wanted him to be upset—far from it—but she wanted him to express himself. His true self. Not whatever he thought would be the most mature facade he could conjure. There was an unnatural quality to his calmness, and her only solace was his tenacity. Even though he acted like he didn't care, it was obvious in his sheer, dedicated focus that he cared about literally nothing more.
She brought a tray for the both of them, and resolved herself to sit beside him. Setting his little green cup in front of him, she sat on the edge of the seat, not disturbing his cushion whatsoever.
He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised.
"What are you doing?"
She took a deep sip of her tea, hiding the blush that had flourished on her face.
"N-nothing. What, ah, are you doing? What are you writing?"
He glanced between her and his lap, his gaze growing far away.
"I wrote down all the practical tips Mirio gave me about the exam. I'm not taking any chances this time." He said, before glancing at the analogue clock again. "I've got ten more minutes till I have to leave. I'm trying to memorize it."
Izuku was staring at her, and she couldn't help but glance away to the window. She supposed it was a good thing he was taking this second test so seriously; but she couldn't help the unease it brought her.
Her baby was brilliant—it was a massive source of her pride—and had a preference for facing his challenges as he was. Him preparing for this test like this… it would be a spectacle, for sure. It also felt somewhat wrong, in her gut. Not morally, of course, but like he wasn't meant to do this. While she was certain many students came in those tests with background knowledge, she doubted many held their senior's advice in their literal lap.
Feeling that spark of concern crackle and pop, she reached across to her son's lap and rested a hand on his knee.
"Izu, are you sure you want to use his advice? I know you both only mean well, but wouldn't it… cheapen the experience?"
The expression he gave her in return was one of little amusement.
"...The experience has already been cheapened. Now it's time to take this seriously; I will not be caught off guard by U.A. again."
She squeezed his kneecap again and sighed.
"I know, I know. But… this is what you truly want, right? U.A., I mean. You've been dreaming about this school for years. I don't want you to… not be proud of yourself once you get in."
The crispness of his frown turned a little soft as he twisted in his seat, looking her in her eyes. Within them, she searched, and found something that made her heart ease and stomach relax. He placed his own palm over hers, rubbing her fore-knuckle with a thumb.
"Pride cometh before the fall, Mom. As corny as it is to say, I was already proud of myself. Too much so. My goal to master One for All—I thought that alone would've been enough to get me anywhere I wanted. That was… I was an idiot. I've got a million ways to grow, and until I reach where I want to be… my ego will have to take a back seat. So as much as going out of my way for the test hurts, I have goals, and after the Colosseum… I need to make a show of it. My growth. Something definitive for Nedzu. For myself. For everyone who helped me."
Inko's eyes shot wide, hearing her son speak. For a second, she could imagine Hizashi's face over his own, speaking in his poetic, masculine way. Tears pricked at her eyes, but before she could swallow him in a hug, his phone alarm went off.
Izuku hopped to his feet, slinging his back over his shoulder just as he slipped on his shoes. He didn't own middle school attire, so he was buttoned-up with a lovely hue of green. Before she could even process his actions, he reached over, planted a kiss on her cheek, and made his way out the door.
Even with her pride-addled, nervous brain, she didn't forget to tell him.
"Good luck, honey! I believe in you!"
[x]
AN: LET THIS MAN COOK! Tenko month is over and Izuku century is here! I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, but I think it hits all the notes I wanted. 38 and 40 were a blast, however, so I think those will be fun. I saw a really inspirational mine craft video the other day, and it's got me more motivated to grind out Unlikely and fitness and work-which is so funny since I'm an adult lol. Who knew minecraft could still affect a guy this much. Cross my fingers the motivation stays with me for a while.
Review! Also, what the heck does Ken Kaneki have to do with Tenko?