"I'm leaving the door unlocked," Stendhal says, holding his gaze.

Izuku's stomach lurches at the realization that this is really happening. In the past when Stendhal had gone on solo jobs (the type he says Izuku is too young to know any details about) he would lock the door from the outside, leaving Izuku all along in the apartment, unable to leave. At first it was scary and he would spend the whole time Stendhal was gone locked in his room, alternating between crying and trying to plot ways to escape.

By the time he was six and had thrown himself more fully into his training and his role in becoming a hero, it became exciting! Stendhal not being home for a few days, or a week if he was lucky, meant he didn't have to follow his training schedule and could watch as much tv as he wanted. He had come to think of his time alone in the apartment as a well deserved break from lessons and patrols, even if it made him feel guilty for not being able to be out protecting people.

As Izuku grew older, though, the implications of being locked inside a windowless apartment without a way to escape began to dawn on him. When Stendhal left, Izuku began to wonder what he would do if the man never came back. What if he was hurt and couldn't – or wouldn't – tell anyone where Izuku was? What would he do if he ran out of food? Or what if there was a fire in the apartment and Izuku was trapped inside, unable to flee the flames?

Worst of all, what if Stendhal just decided Izuku wasn't worth the trouble anymore? He could disappear forever and Izuku would remain sealed inside the apartment. The place he called home could very well become his tomb.

When he was ten, Izuku finally managed to work up the courage to bring up his fears with Stendhal. The man had listened attentively, sharp eyes never straying from Izuku's tear streaked face, and said he would think about it. Three weeks later he announced that he had decided that it was time Izuku be allowed to have more freedom while he was out of town. It was more than Izuku could have ever dreamed of, and it was finally going to happen.

Suddenly the air grows heavy and sharp. Izuku snaps out of his thoughts and back to attention, spine rigid and eyes wide. Izuku swears he can taste blood as a fear inducing miasma permeates the room. This is how he knows his mentor is deadly serious.

"I'll be careful," Izuku tells him, hoping that it is the right thing to say and terrified Stendhal will change his mind if it's not.

"You remember the rules?"

"Yeah, of course." He counts them off on his fingers. "No going out after dark, no patrolling without you, and I'm only allowed to leave the apartment for supplies or in case of an emergency."

The other things, like not revealing his identity and not talking to heroes or police, don't need to be mentioned. Those rules have been in place since he was four. They are so ingrained into his being that they don't even make the list anymore.

"I'm trusting you," Stendhal says, layers of meaning hidden in those three words.

"I know. Thank you. I won't let you down."

Another pause. Stendhal stands by the door, fingers flexing. His leather gloves creak softly and Izuku wonders if he has enough spending money to buy some leather conditioner. The intensity of the room rockets up and his knees begin to wobble without his permission, but his mind stays on what excuses he can find to go out while his mentor is gone. He's used to the killing intent after so many years, and he knows Stendhal doesn't mean it anyways. Stendhal's blood red eyes burn into him as though he can read Izuku's thoughts.

"I know where your mother is," he says and Izuku's blood runs cold.

His voice is quiet and level when he asks, "Is that a threat or an offer?"

Stendhal doesn't answer. He gives a wide smile and says, "Be good and stay safe." He slams the door behind him and Izuku doesn't see him again for three days.

As promised, Izuku is good. As a reward he is allowed his freedom more often. His mother is not mentioned again, and eventually Izuku is able to forgive Stendhal for his thinly veiled threat.

He wakes one evening to find Stendhal waiting with a box resting on his lap. He hands it over without a word and Izuku, still trying to blink the sleep from his eyes, accepts it without looking at the words on the lid. He opens it and feels his brain short circuit. When he looks at his mentor the man is smiling, genuine and excited, and it clicks in his mind that this is not a prank. He launches himself at Stendhal, arms wrapping around his neck as he babbles his thanks and Stendhal laughs.

Izuku had never imagined that he'd be allowed to have a cellphone. At least not until he was a grown up and no longer living at home. His mom had always told him a phone was too much responsibility for a child. On the first and only occasion he'd broached the subject with Stendhal, the man had told him in no uncertain terms that it would be too much temptation, too much of a liability, too much of everything it felt like.

Apparently he was grown up enough to be trusted with all those responsibilities and temptations. Well, most of them anyways. The phone is heavily modified to make it pretty much impossible for him to use it in a way that his mentor wouldn't approve of.

There is a keylogger and a tracker installed and set to send Stendhal notifications of his whereabouts and online activity every fifteen minutes. The majority of the websites he tries to access are blocked, though google still works and if he tries hard enough he can usually find one that isn't to answer his emergency line is disabled and the phone can only make calls to one person – three guesses who. Izuku doesn't know enough about technology to say whether it's the work of a quirk or if it's just simple programming, but he has no idea how to override it either way. Not that he would try even if he knew how, of course. It's not like he has anyone to call, anyways.

Still, even heavily modified the phone gives him a freedom he hasn't dared to imagine for the last six years. He is able to go online and learn. About anything and anyone he wants! He can just type in the name of the hero or villain he's most interested in that week and find more information on them than he could have ever dreamed! (He'll have to ask for new notebooks soon, because his are filling up fast.) There are entire cookbooks online and he can finally bake a cake for Stendhal's birthday, all by himself! He can just ask the internet what the weather outside is like so he doesn't have to guess how many layers to wear on patrol. He could even google himself if he wanted to!

(He doesn't, of course. Partially because he knows Stendhal would see it if he did, and would be unhappy. Mostly because he realized that he doesn't remember his family name anymore.)

When Stendhal tells him they're going to be staying in a new city for a few weeks for a big job, Izuku immediately begs to be allowed to research the city's local heroes and crime rates. He is giddy with the idea of getting to explore somewhere new, and even if he won't get to patrol he will still be expected to keep up with his school-esque lessons and training. So at least he won't be bored while his mentor is gone!

They take a few days exploring the area around the new apartment, spending their evenings finding safe routes to the nearest grocery store and checking alleys and abandoned buildings to make sure nothing is out of the ordinary. Strangely enough, Stendhal seems more concerned than usual. It is enough to set Izuku on edge, too.

Every spare moment in the temporary apartment is spent going over the ground rules. This is not the first time that Izuku has been allowed along to a new place for one of his mentor's long term jobs, but it is the first time he'll be allowed to leave the apartment while the man is gone. It's obvious that Stendhal has his reservations about letting Izuku wander the city alone, but he has a job to do and prefers not to break his promise to Izuku if he can help it.

As he gets ready to leave he asks at least six times whether Izuku remembered to bring his phone charger, and reminds him once more to make sure his mask and weapons are hidden securely on his person if he decides to go out, just in case. Izuku laughs and assures him yet again that he has everything handled. Stendhal nods as he double checks his own arsenal to be sure he has all that he needs.

"Be careful," Izuku says. Stendhal smiles at him. His tongue moves wetly behind his bared teeth.

"Flipping the tables on me, kid?"

Izuku shrugs but smiles back. "I'm not the one throwing themself into dangerous situations."

"How do you know it will be dangerous?"

Izuku stares pointedly at the assortment of blades strapped to Stendhal's chest and the man laughs. He beckons Izuku over and, as soon as the boy is within reaching distance, ruffles his hair. Izuku pouts and mumbles something about how much time he spent making it look nice. He can't hide his happy little grin, though.

"I'll be careful if you are," Stendhal promises. "I'll be able to check in every few days. You make sure you respond as soon as you get it and tell me you're safe, too. Got it, kid?"

"Yeah, I got it. Don't worry, I'll be good!"

"I know you will."

After one last lingering look, his mentor is gone. Izuku waits for a minute before locking the door behind him. With a grin, he throws himself onto the old mattress and pulls out his phone.

Izuku stays awake that night listening to the strangely familiar sounds of the new city as he reads articles and forums on the heroes of Naruhata.

.

The mid afternoon sunlight filters through the clouds, casting the streets in bright golden light and throwing the spaces between buildings deeper into shadow. The people she passses on the street smile at her if their eyes aren't glued to their phones and the sky is a brilliant patchwork of rich blues and glowing whites. Kazuho eyes the skyline and imagines the sun breaking through at the exact moment her concert starts. She smiles at the idea.

The weather is just cool enough that she can get away with wearing an oversized coat to hide her costume without having to worry about getting any weird looks from others. When it is time for her concert she will simply slip into an alleyway to shed her coat and glasses. She has a compact in her pocket so she can do her hair and stage makeup, and then she'll be ready!

She already has a spot picked out but her eyes still scan the darkened alleys on instinct as she walks. It never hurts to have a backup plan, anyways. She hates having to use dirty or shady looking places. She'd run into way too many junkies and weirdos when she was first starting out and would just duck into the first one she saw. There's no way she's going to be making the same mistakes again.

Her eyes catch on something strange and she stops so suddenly that the man behind her runs straight into her. He curses under his breath and tells her to be more careful despite being the one to nearly flatten her, and she responds with an absentminded apology. She is too preoccupied to feel properly chastened by his scolding because there, huddled in an alleyway between a retro record store and frozen yogurt shop, is a kid.

Six months ago she wouldn't have even considered getting involved. After all, it's not like the kid is bleeding or screaming for help. She would have continued on with her day without a second thought, but that was before she met Koichi. Now, she thinks about what he would say if he found out she walked away from someone who looked like they needed help. He would be insufferable and nag her for days, and she's not interested in the headache that would cause.

(And maybe, though she would never admit it, there's a small part of her that longs to be the hero for once.)

Kazuho looks around, searching for any sign of a parent missing their child. There is no one and nothing to indicate anyone else has noticed the kid, which means she can't even pawn him off on someone else. With a sigh, she begins her march towards the alley, the heels of her shoes clicking and alerting him of her presence before she can speak a single word.

He looks up at her approach, all wide green eyes and freckle dotted face, and her heart softens just a little more. She tries a smile, something gentle instead of her usual idol one. He immediately shrinks back, shoulders hunched as he tries to make himself smaller. In spite of that, she notices that his stance still manages to be wide and strong and his hands are held loosely at his sides. It reminds her vaguely of how the old geezer looks when he's training Koichi, how he is always ready to strike at a moment's notice. It makes her wary and she comes to a stop just outside of arms reach, legs already tensing in case she needs to make a quick getaway,

"Uh, hey. Are you, like, okay?"

The words do not come out nearly as smooth as she had hoped they would. She resists the urge to cringe at how stupid she sounds and winds up just clearing her throat instead.

"I just mean that you, uh, look like you need help?"

The boy has lifted his head by now, staring at her with an expression that she can only describe as baffled. She steamrolls stubbornly on, already knowing her image can't be salvaged but determined to see trainwreck through to the end.

"Are you lost or something?"

Hesitantly, the boy nods. The tight knot of anxiety in her chest begins to unravel, just a little. Lost kids are easy. Even someone like her can handle that.

"Do you want help?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to anybody," the boy tells her. His voice is soft, like it's a secret.

She cocks her head, tries for a better smile, and says, "I'm Haneyama Kazuho and it is very nice to meet you. Now we're not strangers, right?"

If anything, the boy's frown only deepens. He still looks beyond confused and Kazuho is beginning to feel awkward. Her smile is still frozen in place; it's only been a couple minutes but this interaction is not going at all like she had hoped and she's thinking that maybe she's a little out of her depth. Her cheeks are beginning to hurt and she wonders what the people passing on the street might think if they saw the pair of them facing off in the alleyway beside the froyo shop. A high schooler cornering an elementary schooler in a place like this was probably suspicious, right?

"I can go find a police officer instead, if you're more comfortable with that."

"No! Please don't do that!"

His reaction startles her and warning bells begin ringing in her mind. She's dealt with enough weird stuff by now to recognize when she's about to throw herself headfirst into trouble. Still, this is just a little kid. She wants to make sure he's not in imminent danger at the very least.

Just like that, the smile slides off her face. She groans and lifts her glasses to rub her eyes and buy herself another moment before she pushes on with the awkward encounter.

"Listen. Are you lost or not?"

"I...well, I…. Yes."

"I know the area. Do you wanna get some froyo and you can tell me where you're trying to go? I can give you directions at least."

When she settles her glasses back on her nose, she feels a shock of panic as the boy's features blur back into place. He is staring up at her with glimmering eyes, tears making steady tracks down his cheeks. He nods, sniffles, and mumbles out a soft thank you. Kazuho nods and turns on her heel, heading towards the shop without saying a word. She likes kids well enough, but she doesn't know how to deal with the crying. It's easier to ignore it since she's already doing her best to take care of the problem.

"Pick any flavor you want," she says. Then, with a glance towards her wallet, adds, "Go easy on the toppings though. They charge by the ounce here."

The boy looks awestruck. He spends a long time gaping at the different yogurt flavors and looks like he's about to go straight up feral by the time he sees all the toppings. Kazuho grits her teeth and wonders if she's made some sort of mistake. She's standing a little to the side of the register while the boy takes his time combing over all the different candies and syrups, and she's pretty sure he gets one single piece of every kind like some sort of bizarre desert sampler.

While she waits, she pulls out her phone and shoots a quick text to Koichi to complain about the situation she's somehow found herself in. She doesn't tell him that she all but threw herself into it, though. Can't have him getting any weird ideas about her wanting to take a more active role in any of his vigilante activities.

Finally, the boy approaches the register. She pays for both of them and they head towards the least sticky, unoccupied table. The boy sits with his back towards the wall, eyes scanning the windows and darting around to find each emergency exit. Kazuho watches curiously and hums as she takes a bite, enjoying the chilly sweetness of it as she thinks about who else she's met that does the same sort of thing. She's no genius, but she's starting to put together a picture. She doesn't like the implications.

"You never told me your name," she says at last.

"Oh, sorry! I'm Yudai."

He lifts a spoonful of candy coated frozen yogurt to his lips, and Kazuho can pinpoint the exact moment the sugar hits his taste buds. His eyes go massive, filling with glee as a reserved little smile breaks across his face. She can't help but laugh a little in response and he startles, still bug eyed and smiling, before he joins in.

"Do your parents not let you eat sugar?"

"Only on special occasions."

She laughs again as she watches him take another bite, swaying side to side like a drunk in his excitement. He is carefree and cheerful, and it is like the tear stained boy from the alleyway is already nothing more than a distant memory.

"Don't worry, it'll be our little secret."

"My uncle will find out. He always does, but don't worry! You won't get in trouble."

Kazuho hums absently, hiding her frown behind another bite. She nudges his leg gently with the pointed toe of her boot, meets his eyes, and smiles. "I think meeting a new friend is a pretty special occasion, so I don't think you'll get in any trouble either."

Yudai smiles at her, distant but sincere. Comfortable silence stretches between them as they eat. Koichi is texting her, asking if she is alright and if she needs any help with getting Yudai home. She doesn't respond, partly because she is flustered by the attention and partly because she doesn't even know where the kid is trying to get yet. She waits until he is almost done with his treat before she speaks again.

"Do you know your address?"

Yudai doesn't bother to reply verbally. He shakes his head, spoon dangling from his mouth and curls flopping with the movement. The threadbare sleeve of his oversized hoodie trails through some melted purple yogurt, and he immediately licks it from the fabric. Kazuho's nose wrinkles with distaste. Someone so odd shouldn't be this adorable. It's almost enough to make her jealous.

"Can you give me any landmarks? Anything at all to go off of?"

He thinks, then nods. "It's a temporary housing facility. Tall building, near a bakery with broken windows and a really big adult store."

Kazuho chokes on a popping pearl and Yudai watches with a vaguely concerned look until she manages to dislodge the damn thing. The girl behind the register is looking at them now, so she smiles disarmingly and waves. The cashier rolls her eyes but goes back to minding her own business. Kazuho sticks her tongue out at the girl's back before turning her attention back to the boy seated across from her.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the police? I'm pretty sure they have people there specifically to give directions."

"I'm sure," Yudai says, setting his jaw.

Kazuho checks her phone and grimaces when she sees the time. She tucks it away and checks the pockets of her coat to confirm she still has her makeup, then nods to herself.

She's passed through areas that could match what he's describing while chasing down Trigger addicts, so she has a few ideas where his apartment could be. Not enough to give him directions though. The place sounds shady as hell, so it's not like she's about to just let him wander around all by himself.

"I'll help you out," she promises. "But I have something I need to do first. You can tag along, but you'll have to hang out with the rest of the crowd until I'm done. Okay?"

He nods, wide eyed with curiosity, and follows her lead as she scarfs down the last few bites of frozen yogurt before bolting out the door. She takes his hand and rushes three blocks over to the area she had scoped out earlier in the day in preparation for her concert. There is no sign of hesitation as they duck into the alley, and his eyes go massive when she drops her coat to reveal her costume.

She is suddenly aware of how short her skirt is. It's usually a nonissue since she's so high above the crowds, but it feels a little weird to have a kid watching her change into her idol persona up close and personal.

"Could you turn around?"

He flushes red and obeys immediately. She huffs out a sigh of relief before crouching down to start on her hair and makeup. She keeps one eye on his back. If she didn't know any better, she'd almost say he's guarding the entrance of the alley for her. She smiles a little at the ridiculous thought of this tiny kid trying his best to be her own personal bodyguard.

"Hey, Haneyama?"

"You can call me Pop Step when I'm in costume."

"Okay. Pop Step?

"Yeah?"

Are you...a hero?'

Every line of his body has gone tight and if she squints she can just barely see the way his fists tremble at his sides. She purses her lips and takes a deep breath before answering.

"Nah, nothing like that. I'm an idol. I do pop up concerts."

"Pop up concerts?"

"Yeah, you know. Like, singing and dancing for a crowd? I guess you could also call it busking. Anyway, I'm not technically supposed to be doing it because I use my quirk to add a little extra flare. If anyone says the police are on the way the show gets cut short."

She laughs, a little embarrassed, and watches as his shoulders slump. She can't tell if it is with relief or disappointment. Weird. She straightens up, fixing her bangs, and feels her idol mask slide comfortably into place.

She snaps a quick selfie to post to her Instagram along with the location. Her followers will be able to find her. It's the best way to alert them to her shows since she can't exactly advertise them ahead of time.

"You can turn around now."

The look of pure awe that crosses his face when he sees her makes her blush.

"You look like a different person! That's amazing!"

Kazuho winks and strikes a pose, knowing she's practically sparkling at this point. She grins and teases, "I'm much prettier this way, huh?"

Yudai cocks his head, looking adorably confused, and says, "I think you were pretty before, too."

Kazuho is pretty sure her blush could stop traffic. She laughs, waving him off and wondering who gave this kid permission to be so cute.

"I'm going up to the roof. Wait here for a couple minutes and then go join the crowd. I'll get you after the show and then we can go find your home. Sound good?"

He nods, fluffy hair bouncing with the movement. It makes her want to reach out and ruffle it. As hard as it is, she resists the urge. Instead, she tenses the muscles of her legs, takes a little hop, and lets her quirk propel her to the rooftop.

"Hello everybody!" she shouts, voice echoing from the cheap little microphone she'd bought herself when she'd first started performing. There is a smattering of cheers and applause from below, people only just beginning to gather for the show. She surveys the crowd, grinning and waving and twirling. She catches sight of a head of green hair ducking between bodies, hanging at the fringes of the slowly growing group.

They cheer as the first notes slips from between her glossed lips. Exhilaration fills her, bubbling in her chest as she pours her heart into the performance and does her best to let her feelings shine through. She wants to make the people supporting her just as happy as she feels while singing and dancing, using her quirk to leap between buildings and high into the sky.

This is one of the few things in life that can get her heart pounding with joy instead of fear induced adrenaline. It's a different kind of high than she gets while helping Koichi and the old man hunt down wannabe villains. Her concerts are just for her and her fans. They're just because she wants to do them and because they make her happy. Even if there will always be idols better than her out there, at least she can make her fans smile like this. She can make a difference in their lives, no matter how small.

Thankfully, the cops don't show up and ruin things. The concert ends with her thanks and a teaser for when the next one might be. The people whoop and holler as she leaps from the roof and falls gracefully to the earth below, quirk cushioning her landing. Her heels hardly make a sound as they meet the concrete and the shadows of the buildings hide her away as she pulls out her stuff from its hiding place and slips her coat on.

"You were amazing," a voice gushes. She jumps, startled by the sudden presence – she hadn't noticed his approach at all. She feels suddenly shy, slipping from Pop Step into plain old Kazuho again.

"Did you really like it?"

Yudai's green eyes shine as he smiles up at her, nodding like a broken bobblehead. His enthusiasm is infectious and she's already riding an after-show high, so she ignores any sense of propriety and reaches out to ruffle his fluffy hair. She's glad he doesn't seem scandalized by it; if anything, he almost seems touch starved by the way he freezes up before leaning into her hand.

"Your song was really pretty," he tells her once she stops petting his head, already busy finger combing his hair back into place. "Your quirk is so cool! I haven't seen one like it before."

"Oh, thank you. It's nothing special though. I can just jump high!"

Yudai shakes his head, eyes bright and mouth pulled into a knife sharp grin. She can almost see his brain working behind his eyes so she waits, curious.

"There's so much you could do, Haneyama! Your quirk is amazing. It looks like it affects your gravity when you're in the air. It doesn't make you fly, but it slows your descent so you can stay airborne significantly longer and so you won't have a hard landing. You have to push off of something solid to activate it, right? Does it have to be stable or could you carry sheets of paper or something like that and use it mid-air to get higher? And do you have to jump or would you be able to use our quirk to give a kick extra power? Oh! What even affects your quirk? Does the amount of sleep or what you ate or the weather have any effects? Have you noticed you can get higher when you have more energy? Is there a difference in your abilities when you're performing versus your daily life, and what about—"

Kazuho covers his mouth with her hand, suddenly wondering if maybe this is why his parents don't let him have sugar. For a second he keeps going, mouth moving beneath her palm in a way that gives her the heebie jeebies. She waits until he's gone silent before removing her hand and wiping it against the side of her coat. Smiling and shaking her head, she can't help but laugh a little.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a serious case of word vomit?"

He nods once, eyes downcast. The expression is such a far cry from the glowing excitement from just a second before that she feels her heart plummet and land firmly beneath her own sharp heels. Another laugh, this one just a little more forced, and she tries again.

"Don't get me wrong. That was really cool and I hadn't even thought of most of that stuff! You just talk really fast."

"Sorry! I just get excited."

"That's totally fine! We can talk more about it while we look for your place if you want? It'll be dark soon and I want to make sure you get home safe way before then."

His impossibly bright smile is back and she can't help but return it. She offers her hand, and he clutches it tightly as they begin the long walk to his apartment.

.

"He lives in an office building?"

Kazuho groans, leaning back on the heels of her hands as she considers throwing her drink at Koichi. He doesn't sense the imminent danger he's in, but Knuckleduster does and inches back a bit to avoid the splash zone. He disguises his crooked grin behind his beer can.

"No, I'm pretty sure he's staying in one of the surrounding apartment buildings. He just had me leave him at the office building so I wouldn't know where he lives."

"Ah. Stranger danger." Koichi says, nodding like he's said something wise. It makes her want to smack him right between his lazy, half-lidded eyes.

"I mean...I guess? I don't know. The whole thing just felt super weird."

From the corner of her eye she sees Knuckleduster perk up, suddenly way more invested in the conversation. She rolls her eyes and grits her teeth.

"Not Trigger weird, old man. Could you be normal for once?"

He barks out a laugh, loud and grating. "What part of our lives is normal? You knew what you were getting the first day we met."

"You made your weird agreements with Koichi, not me," she sniffs, turning her nose up and crossing her arms with as much attitude as she can manage.

He cackles and she leaps to her feet, using just the barest hint of her quirk to cover the distance from her spot to the edge of the rooftop Koichi's apartment is situated on. The city stretches out before her and her eyes seek out the area she'd dropped Yudai off at two days earlier. It feels a little silly, but she wishes that she had thought to get his number so she could check in and make sure he got home safe. She hasn't seen him since, which isn't surprising, but she sort of wishes they would bump into each other again just to set her mind at ease. While they were looking for his place she had let slip when and where her next concert would be, so maybe he'll show up.

Then again, he did say he was only in town for a little while for his uncle's job. She doubts they'll meet again.

This was getting way too long, so I decided to split it up into 2 (possibly 3) parts. I'm feeling a little iffy on this chapter, so maybe I'll go back and edit it once I have the rest finalized. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed!

I'll try to have the rest up soon! Reviews are greatly appreciated. :)