Being in All Might's personal, civilian car was never going to get old for Izuku. It was an older vehicle, some would say too old, but the man seemed to think it was just perfect judging by the way his entire body relaxed as he sat in the driver's seat. Izuku hadn't actually seen that degree of comfort on display from All Might outside the car, which had to mean something. About halfway to Tokyo on Christmas Day, Izuku asked about it.
"You really love this car, huh?" he said.
"Yes," All Might sighed. "I've had it for as long as I can remember."
"Like, since you were a little kid?" Izuku asked. If All Might couldn't remember a time without the car, then it had to be older than he'd originally thought based on the outward appearance.
"It wasn't mine all the way back then, but yeah. It's a family car. My mother was the first to own it, and it became mine when she—" All Might said, stopping abruptly. He'd been speaking with a fond smile, but it turned into a contemplative frown as silence filled the space between him and Izuku.
"I'm sorry if I got a little too personal, I just—" Izuku tried to say. He felt his stomach drop as he realised that All Might had never talked about his family before. Of course he had to have a family, nobody had no familial relations at all, but All Might seemed like such a monolith, like a deity rather than a mortal man, that it was bizarre to picture him as a small child with parents and siblings. In Izuku's mind, All Might had always been as he was in the present, the Symbol of Peace. All Might had spoken of Nana Shimura as a kind of surrogate parent before, of course, but nothing of his blood relations. Izuku was also just now realising that there may have been a reason for that.
"No, it's fine. Nothing's too personal to share with you — you have the power I held for forty years flowing through you right now. There's nothing closer to my heart than the Quirk that is now yours. Regrettably, I haven't thought about my family in many years," All Might said as his frown deepened. The look on his face told Izuku that that thought troubled him, made him think.
Izuku frowned, too, from the guilt that was creating a pit in his stomach as the silence between the two of them became more tense than ever. He hadn't meant to open up that can of worms on a trip to Tokyo where the only thing to do was sit next to each in complete silence afterwards. It had been the last thing on his to-do list to make All Might think about his dead mother. It was an actual nightmare of his come true sitting next to All Might in that moment, and scrambling to keep the conversation going and dispel the anxiety that was building in his gut, Izuku reached for any topic, even if it was related to All Might's family. After all, the best way to clear the air was to exhaust the discussion so they couldn't talk about it anymore. Right?
It took a few moments to find the courage to ask, "How did she pass?" He was grateful that his voice didn't break and that he didn't stutter, but it was a distant victory in his mind as he watched All Might's face twist into a number of different expressions, one after the other.
"It was a villain attack. I was twelve — no, thirteen," All Might said. Izuku had to stop himself from having a visible reaction to that information. "We lived in Minato City at the time, and the crime rate was off the charts — literally. This was during the infancy of the pro hero system you know today, and things were very different. Tragedies like that happened every day, and there wasn't any one ideal for anybody to trust and rely on."
"Minato?" Izuku asked, the city's name being intimately familiar to him as an All Might fan.
"Yes. I put my agency there as a kind of monument to her. I wanted the first place the Symbol of Peace touched to be the place where he was forged. The crime rate there nowadays is as close to zero as you can get. I figured I owed her that much for raising me as well as she did, considering the circumstances," All Might said. "Plus, the Commission told me I had to settle somewhere in Tokyo for visibility, and I had no connection to anywhere else, so it was the best option."
A more comfortable quiet than before fell over the two of them after that. Izuku took some time to think about that. He'd never thought about where he'd like to operate in particular as a hero. Part of him had just assumed that he'd go where he was needed and not open an agency like a lot of local heroes did. Izuku expected to be solving problems on a national scale, so hadn't thought about opening an agency. That had gone out the window the second All Might had mentioned the Commission pressuring him into opening an agency in Tokyo for 'visibility', whatever that meant. Did the number one hero always have the Commission telling them what to do? Izuku didn't think he'd like that if he ended up in that position. Was Endeavor having to put up with that at that very moment? He couldn't imagine Todoroki's father was the type, based on the stories the young heir had told Izuku way back at the sports festival, to let bureaucrats tell him how to do his job as a hero. The Commission did everything concerning heroics behind the scenes. Hero rankings, agency management, payment, mediation with the government. Would his career be sabotaged if he wouldn't do what they told him to do, if they even did? Izuku hadn't thought about the Hero Public Safety Commission more than a few times in his life before yesterday, and he didn't think he liked the image of it that was being painted by all the things he'd been hearing about it since then. He was well aware that these were thoughts for another time, though, and put the topic out of his mind.
They arrived at a hotel by the time the sun was setting. Streaks of orange and yellow lit up the parking lot as they climbed out of the car, and Izuku took a moment to appreciate the chilly breeze that blew his hair around his head. He really needed a haircut, is what Izuku realised as his bicoloured mane was pushed down into his face and blocked his vision completely. It was easier to ignore in his hero costume, since he wore his cowl the way it was meant to be worn more often than not lately, but when a windy day snuck up on him like it had that day, it was more apparent than ever that he needed to either go to a hairdresser or ask one of his friends to do it for him. At the thought of Hitoshi or Katsuki getting near his face with a pair of scissors, Izuku promised himself that he'd never let that happen. Maybe Tsu or Ochako could do it, since he trusted the steadiness of their hands, but definitely not the boys. A shiver that had nothing to do with the winter wind ran down his spine as the grim possibilities made themselves apparent.
Izuku faced the direction of the wind so that he could see, and followed All Might as he led the way to their room. On the way, All Might explained that the Commission had a number of safehouses that outwardly seem like normal buildings, but were really staffed by hand-picked heroes to keep individuals of importance safe and hidden if they needed it. Nowadays, every place All Might stayed in that wasn't UA was one of these safehouses, though that wasn't his choice. He'd seen more than enough of the Commission, apparently, and had comfortably retired into teaching full-time, so he technically was not an employee of the organisation anymore, rather an employee of UA. Izuku didn't exactly know the relationship between institutions like UA and the Commission, but thought there must be some connection, as UA was allowed to issue hero licences, which was within the Commission's purview. He really didn't know, though, and didn't think he'd understand until he was older and worked with the Commission himself as a real hero. All Might sounded happy to have unentangled himself with them, though, so it wasn't making Izuku very optimistic about the experience. Maybe he was reading too much into All Might's casual comments, but a bizarre feeling of dread was settling in his stomach as he got closer to the exam he was lined up for the next day. What would it be like being tested directly by the organisation that regulated heroics? What would Commission-raised hero trainees be like? A lot of questions floated around Izuku's head with no answers, and it put him on edge a little bit.
Their room was nothing special, and Izuku was honestly relieved when he saw that that was the case. He put the case with his costume in it at the foot of his bed and sat down on said bed, testing the bounce of the mattress. He looked around, noting the bare, beige walls, the one door that likely led to a bathroom equally barren of decoration, the two beds with plain white sheets and blankets, the one piece of furniture in the desk with a turned-off computer on it, likely for contacting the Commission without needing to leave the room, and … Izuku had suddenly changed his mind. A splash of colour wouldn't have killed whoever built this place. If Izuku Midoriya was the most exciting thing appearance-wise in a room, that was bad. He sighed, and held onto the little laugh that wanted to escape him. Hitoshi always had funny things like that to say, and Izuku felt a pang of regret that he wasn't spending Christmas with his friends, as it was about dinner time and everyone else back at the dorms were surely well into their celebrations by then. He'd been trying to keep it locked down, and he'd been doing a good job of that, he thought, until he'd tried to fill the void with some kind of supplement, and it had just made it even more apparent to him that he hated what was happening. He stared at the blank wall and, more or less satisfied with the mattress, let himself flop down onto the bed completely, his gaze shifting up to glare at the ceiling instead.
"Are you … alright, Young Midoriya?" All Might asked from across the room in a voice that, while soft, carried almost too well.
"Yes. No. I don't know. Probably not," Izuku said, trying to puzzle out his own feelings in real time as he spoke.
"Do you want to talk about what's troubling you?" All Might asked again, sitting down on the side of the other bed closest to Izuku.
Izuku sighed. "It's Christmas, and I'm here." It didn't make him feel any better to summarise, and All Might simply sat and listened, so Izuku figured he should elaborate. "I've never … I'm sure you can guess what my life was like before I met you. I feel like a whole different person some days. I try not to think about it, but sometimes it creeps up on me. I've had a lot of firsts at UA. First real friends, first birthday that wasn't just me and Mom, first … you get it. Today was going to be the first time I had spent Christmas surrounded by friends. I was looking forward to it, but I'm here instead, and I didn't get to have that after all. And I'm fine with that, and I'll deal with it, but it does hurt a little bit, you know? To almost have something you wanted so badly, but then you're pulled away. I don't blame you, by the way, All Might. I know what's happening now is a ripple effect of my own actions. If I hadn't been so crazy at the summer camp, I wouldn't have been captured and wouldn't have been hurt so badly and wouldn't have missed the actual licensing exam and wouldn't be here now. I understand that it's my own fault I'm feeling this way. It's hard, though. And that's not even getting into how I'll miss Ochako tomorrow."
"What does Young Uraraka have to do with it?" All Might asked. Izuku had almost been able to make himself forget the man was listening to every word he said, but a heat rose up his face as he realised he'd have to tell All Might why he was really so torn up.
"It's her birthday tomorrow. I had this whole plan to give her the gift I got for her on the roof of the dorms, under the stars. She likes that kind of stuff, and I got her a telescope. It's got a message engraved on it from Thirteen and everything. I thought about it a lot, but I ended up giving it to her early, last night, outside her dorm room, because I panicked when you laid out the plan. It would've been another first for me, getting something for a friend on their birthday. I think I botched it because I was panicking and not thinking clearly," Izuku explained. At a certain point, he felt like his elaboration simply trailed off into a string of words that he had no idea how to connect, and he stopped talking when he looked over at All Might for the first time since he'd begun speaking, finding that the man was simply looking at Izuku with a knowing light in his eyes and a smile on his thin face. Izuku looked at him and frowned, sitting up and turning to face him properly with a question surely in his eyes.
"I'm going to ask you to be completely honest with me tonight, Young Midoriya," All Might said with a chuckle. Izuku nodded, unsure where this was going. "What exactly is the relationship between you and Young Uraraka?"
Izuku sat up and looked at All Might sceptically. This better not have been going where Izuku feared it was.
"We're friends. She's one of my best friends. Why?" he said.
"Nothing else? You don't, perhaps, like her more than a friend likes a friend?" All Might asked, his eyebrows shooting up as he asked again. Sighing, Izuku flopped back down on the bed.
"Why does everyone always think that's how it is? I keep telling everyone that it can't happen, but they never listen," Izuku explained, hoping that All Might would just drop this topic and move on. He wasn't so lucky.
"Why is that the case? From what I've seen, you two would be a very compatible pair," All Might said, obviously trying to lift Izuku's spirits, but it didn't quite work, as the frown on his face only deepened.
"That's not why it doesn't work. I came to the conclusion a long time ago that I'm asexual. I just have zero desire to be … physical with her. A relationship built on that wouldn't be honest. Eventually, Ochako would want things I can't give her, and I don't want any resentment between us in that case. It's just better if nothing even starts, so it can't be broken when I'm not enough for her," Izuku said.
All Might was quiet for a few moments, and Izuku could almost hear a clock ticking, though there were none in the room. Finally, in a voice that sounded secretive, like he was saying something that might get him in trouble, All Might said, "But that's not what you want, is it?"
"I mean … yeah? I prefer it this way," Izuku said. He ignored the way his chest was getting tight as he was forced to admit more and more of the things he'd tried to keep down in the place where he thought things he didn't like to think. "I really do. Plus, it would be kind of like cheating, right? Like having my cake and eating it. There's just no way it'd work."
"If you're sure. Do remember that relationships can be anything you want them to be. I've never had a relationship, though there was … someone I loved once," All Might admitted with a cough that could've been due to his injury or simple embarrassment. Izuku shot up and turned back around to face All Might, his fanboy senses engaging and telling him he was about to hear some never-before-heard information about his hero. All Might looked at Izuku with a smile, but there was something held in his eyes that told of a deep sorrow, so much so that it shook Izuku for a moment. "Don't be so excited, it's not some grand love story. I admit that I was quite smitten with someone in my teen years. She was brave, smart and funny, and she was more beautiful than the most breathtaking starry night, and we shared all the same values when it came to heroism. She knew I was Quirkless and didn't care, though that didn't have the same stigma that it carries nowadays. She thought I was crazy for wanting to become a Symbol of Peace, but helped me regardless. I owe her everything."
Izuku could've sworn he heard a clicking sound as the gears in his head stopped turning and the realisation dawned on him. He uttered an audible, "Oh," but he didn't think All Might heard him. There was a tension to All Might's expression, and a distance in his eyes, so Izuku didn't think he was quite present at the moment. Turning his thoughts inward, Izuku wondered how All Might had made that work, if he'd ever gotten lonely.
"Did you ever tell her how you felt?" Izuku asked. He was so lucky that his voice hadn't broken once in this conversation, otherwise he never would've been able to live down the embarrassment. He thought it made him sound like a little kid, like people didn't take him seriously when his voice wavered while he was talking about important things. Izuku was so glad he'd seemed to catch a break in that sense.
"No," All Might said with a miserable sounding sigh. "But we had the closest relationship I think it was possible for us to have, given the circumstances. I don't regret anything. I do sometimes wonder what it would be like if I had, though. Or if I'd gotten out into the dating scene when I was in my prime. I don't think it would've worked, though. A Symbol of Peace must be constantly vigilant, and for better or for worse, I was constantly All Might. For decades, I never slowed down, never took a day off. I didn't really have much of a life, in hindsight. Before I started as a teacher at UA, nobody had used my real name to my face since I was in high school — except for Gran Torino, but he'll always see me as his meathead student. At a certain point I even stopped using it in my own head, if you can believe it. I was just All Might."
The room was silent when All Might stopped talking. Izuku looked at the skeletal man sitting in front of him and thought hard about a couple of things. First, he absently noted the mention of a Gran Torino again. Izuku had heard about him a few times, mostly just in passing, and realised in that moment that this name without a face had been All Might's teacher. He'd always spoken of this Gran Torino like a hero partner, even though the only ally All Might had ever had in the field was Sir Nighteye, so that finally made sense to Izuku. The second thing Izuku realised was how tired All Might looked, and now that he thought about it properly, he looked like that all the time these days. The gaunt, rake-thin body of his was old and weary now, after a lifetime of keeping Japan safe almost single-handedly. Izuku felt bad for not noticing the bone-deep fatigue that All Might seemed to carry with him in his true form before this point, but he couldn't unsee it now. It suffused every part of him, from the way he spoke, to his posture, his eyes, the way he gesticulated when he talked, the way he'd get lost in thought sometimes. It all spoke to an existential tiredness. All Might was old now, retired and allowed to rest for seemingly the first time in his life, and he finally looked like a man who needed it. A squirming feeling of guilt swirled in Izuku's guts as he took all of it in.
"Jeez, didn't mean to ramble like that, especially when that isn't even the point I'm trying to make. You're really rubbing off on me, kid!" All Might laughed. It sounded hollow. "My point is this — I loved this person, but the nature of our relationship was limited. I was okay with that, and accepted the limits that I had no control over. I loved her all the same, and did as much as I could to make sure she knew how much I cared for her. That's all anybody can do in a situation like that. It's okay if you approach a relationship in a way that seems odd but works for you, is what I'm trying to say. Do you get what I mean, Young Midoriya?"
Izuku sat there, thinking while All Might spoke, but couldn't come up with anything. Maybe his perspective on this was skewed, but he couldn't see how the story applied to him. All Might had seemingly been fully capable of expressing his love for this person in other ways, ways that got the message across, whereas Izuku couldn't do that, because it would make him sort of like a hypocrite, like he's saying one thing and doing another. It felt wrong to consider it, like it made him want to escape that little hotel room and get some fresh air, but he wouldn't abandon the conversation when it seemed to be coming to an end. He just couldn't make sense of anything right at that moment, as he was still shaken up about missing his friends. He looked back up at All Might, who was looking down at him with patient, yet expectant eyes, the eyes he always gave Izuku, and frowned.
"I don't think so, but I'll try. I think I just need some time to sort through all my thoughts. Thank you for talking this out with me, though. I really appreciate it," Izuku said.
"It's my pleasure," All Might said, looking at Izuku with a pain in his eyes that Izuku couldn't decipher. He attributed it to the opening of an old wound during the conversation, but had a feeling it could be something more than that, but didn't want to push the man into admitting more than he was comfortable with. After all, Izuku was still his student and there was a level of professionalism that was expected to act as a buffer between them.
It wasn't long after that that Izuku started getting tired. The bed was actually surprisingly comfortable, and he found himself fading fast. If he wanted to be in shape for the test the next morning, he would've had to be asleep around that time anyway, so he let sleep take him. Echoes of all he and All Might had spoken of rang in his mind during his sleep, but he didn't dream, nor did the vestiges choose to reach out to him, so Izuku had a energising night of sleep, which had become somewhat rare in the months after Kamino.
Too bad the next day wouldn't be as relaxing.