"Thank you for the meal," Izuku prayed over his bowl of katsudon. Across the table from him, Silverfang did the same wordlessly, and the two dug into their dinners.
In spite of the food in his mouth, the old man asked the teenager, "Have you been feeling comfortable with your visit thus far?"
Izuku nodded his head as he chewed. For the first day of his work study, it was surprisingly more calm and slower than he was expecting. After his first meeting with the hero, the old man had let him relax as he pleased. He was shown to the room he would stay in for the week; taken for a tour around the dojo and it's inner and outer training grounds; offered a good lunch; permitted to lounge around on the couch and television in one of the breakrooms; it felt more like the first day of a vacation trip. The most surprising of all was the lack of any other presence in the vicinity bar the agency's orange-haired sidekick. He heard how the dojo had lost its entire student body just last summer, but surely a few new students had come rotation through the doors.
The green teen still took advantage of the time off, checking the news on his phone for hero sightings and comparing it with the list he had written up in his journal. Todoroki had made the news with Kamui Woods, a pairing of wood and ice working together in fighting a building fire. Tokoyami had only been seen with Ryukyu just on patrol but the heroine's growing fame made it headline enough. Same was said for his brunette friend, as Hawks and Uraraka were spotted at the Kyoto mall nearly drowning in colorful bags. Iida made headlines mostly from himself, the news clamoring at the immediate presence of a new Ingenium already stepping up after the incident with his brother. Even All-Might was mentioned, reportedly spotted at his old sidekick's agency earlier in the day; Izuku wondered if there was a possible reunion of their team in the works that hadn't been seen in over six years.
Izuku peered through the dining room door, in the direction of the agency's main entrance. "Should I be expecting any classes while I'm here, sir?" he asked the older man. "I know your agency is also the grounds for your martial arts school. My friend was excited to see I got a letter from you, and he'd probably enroll after we graduate." Or maybe before, if there was enough time between classes to come out this far in their later years.
The white-haired man shook his head, his mustache swaying with the motion. "I've since closed registration for the school since last year. It will just be you and I for your work studies."
The green-haired teen frowned through his next bite, peering back at the empty lounge room over his shoulder. "What happened, if it's okay to ask?"
Silverfang continued to eat through his question, staring at the table between them before answering, "A student of mine at the time, Garou, assaulted my other students on a day I was absent from teaching, leaving only my senior students in charge. He made a mockery of them all on his own in battle, and when I returned my students pulled themselves from my school."
Suddenly the silence around them felt much more somber. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir."
The old hero nodded. "Thank you. Only Charanko remains of my students, finally earning his hero's license last winter. He'll be absent from this work study too; he has family matters he asked to attend to for the week."
Right, Izuku had been there for that conversation. He was ashamed to admit he was relieved after hearing it. The quirkless teen could tell how the young man felt about his presence from his frequent glances and constant frowning, though it wasn't as though his words hadn't made it obvious from the start.
"Is that a problem?"
"No with Master Bang."
"I don't think he likes me very much," the green-haired boy muttered between his bites.
"Apologies for my student. He is the only student who remains from my last batch. I understand he can be defensive of my school and my work; I fear he's argued with people through online forums about the reputation I've garnered since they left. He can be too negative in expressing his emotions."
Beat around the bush, a voice in the back of Izuku's head suggested. "I think it's because I'm quirkless." Or don't.
Silverfang blinked at the statement, before nodding his head and sighing. "I will speak with him about that. I'm sorry for his behavior. I assure you your quirklessness is not a problem with me. I've only had a few quirkless students in the past, but I'm familiar with how children treat each other. I'll see to it that he apologizes."
"Thank you," he responded earnestly, biting his tongue on correcting children to people. Maybe just calling himself quirkless was misleading for what he could do, but that wasn't a conversation he was willing to budge on; the title remained, superpowers be damned. He couldn't just end the discussion with his classmates for their understanding and acceptance; he knew he had to confront people regularly about it if he wanted something to change. There was no good in letting that undertone of bias and misjudgment thrive without challenge.
The two ate in silence a moment longer before the martial arts hero continued, "So I understand where your current skill and knowledge stand, what martial arts training do you have? Last I remember, Yuei doesn't have a dedicated course on the various forms and it's too early in the year for you to have much experience in a club for that matter." Yuei had clubs?
Filing that question away for another day, Izuku answered, "Not too much. I took a year of self-defense and jujitsu before Yuei, and some weapons training with the escrima stick and some swordplay. And I've watched some videos online to practice with. Since the school year started I've just been practicing and training in classes, though. My friends have been helping me learn how to fight better."
"Quite self-taught, then. Your aggressive fighting style in the Festival did look more sporadic than refined. Tomorrow, we can properly train you again; I take it the bat hooked to your costume is your weapon of choice?" The teen nodded, knowing it was still clipped to his costume's case. "I would like to see your skill with it, first. We'll go over hand-to-hand, but practice with your equipment cannot be overlooked. Mind you, it might be all we do; I don't often go out on patrols as of late, only missions when I am called in."
Izuku had no problem with that. "Learning how to fight better is why I chose you, sir," he admitted. "My best friend really admires you — he knows more about martial arts than I do — and only had good things to say about you. And I know I'm going to be pulled into fights in the future, with or against my will. If I can learn how to protect my friends better, I appreciate it."
Though his lips were buried under his facial hair, Silverfang's frown did not go unnoticed. "Yes, we can address that tomorrow as well." Before Izuku could ask what he meant, the old man had swiped both their empty bowls and brought them to his sink. "Seven a.m. tomorrow, we will have breakfast. I leave you a few hours to relax and exercise to your liking, and then at ten you will meet me outside on the training grounds so we can begin practice. Be in full costume and bring your bat." As he came back to the table, he lightly tapped Izuku's shoulder. "Do you remember the way back to your room? Please, allow me to show you back."
The old man led the way before Izuku could get a word out, so he followed along with a brief thanks. Though he did take him down a route he wouldn't have gone, the green teen noted as he gazed at his new surroundings. Silverfang brought him down a hallway he hadn't during the tour earlier, with walls filled to the brim with framed photos; commemorations of the man and his students, the green teen guessed. The first few portrayed a much younger man Izuku guessed to be the martial arts hero — if only because the attire was unchanged — accompanied by a new group of faces in each frame. The years of the school's attendance charted him down the hall, as the hordes of students continued to look relatively young compared to the slowly aging hero who smiled at the camera. For the longest time skimming through the crowds, Izuku could not find one familiar face among them.
Not until the last photo at the hall's end, sporting not just the orange-haired sidekick standing behind the old man, but a silver-haired teen Izuku recognized standing at the opposite end of the photo.
"Hunter was one of your students?" he asked, just before the real Silverfang turned the corner.
The old man stopped immediately, frozen and facing away for a few seconds before turning back around. "You recognize a face?"
Izuku nodded, gesturing a thumb at the photo. "A friend of mine." Hunter didn't look much younger than Izuku remembered him, sporting even the same frown and glare he was familiar with. "We met last fall. He's actually been helping me learn how to fight, when we meet up. He never told me he knew you."
The old hero hummed. "No, I suppose not." Silverfang stood beside him, staring plainly at the photo in question. "He was a student of mine for years, just short of a full decade." Izuku squinted at the other photos he had passed. "This was the first one he ever showed up for. He and Charanko were both part of my students last year, and he left just before the rest of them did." He turned away again and continued down the corner of the hall, the green-haired teen hastily catching up. "He was a gifted student and an avid learner. Did he know you were coming here?"
Izuku shook his head. "I haven't seen him since the Sports Festival. He never gave me his number, so we only meet up whenever we both have days off, I guess."
"Tell him I said hello the next time you meet, could you? I would appreciate it."
"Of course, sir."
"Thank you." They reached his room soon enough. "I'll leave you be, for the night. Don't stay up too late. The restroom is just down the hall and to the left, if you need it." Izuku thanked him again with a bow, before retreating to his room.
As he changed into his pajamas, the green teen decided to double-check on his costume, having only left his luggage in the room before spending the day away. Of course his bat was latched to the side of the case's exterior, but he noticed how much heavier it was to pick up. Not hollow like his past bats, but fully metal proved when he knocked his knuckles against it. It would be nice to have something that wasn't under threat of bending in dire situations, he guessed. His dark clothes were present inside the case, along with his rightfully green shirt tucked between them. He noted how thick the clothing felt between his fingers, unlike his costumes before, probably something to help defensively as best it could without turning it into armor.
Hiding in the corner of its packaging was a small plastic box, and within it two lone bat handles and a pink note. If the color wasn't a dead giveaway, the chicken scratches of writing on it queued him in on its author.
I made condensable bats! Just click the button on the base and voila! They are smaller and thinner to fit within the handles without making them too fat, but they should be sturdy enough in a knife fight! But be careful swinging them around! And make sure to leave a good review when you give them back!
Izuku followed Hatsume's instructions and clicked the inner button on the bottom of one handle. Metal shot out of it like a lightsaber, then expanded and clicked into place until it resembled a smaller version of the bat the school issued him. Expectantly lighter, as he compared them between his hands, so he'd definitely need to train with them to get used to both. But none of its differences killed the smile that stuck on his face.
He quickly fished out his phone, brushing aside the text from his class' group chat — an idea courtesy of his vice-president — and his individual friends and sent a photo of the small bat in his hand to his pink-haired friend, a small thumbs up being the only message typed with it. A barrage of the same emoji flooded back his way not three seconds later.
Izuku kept his smile wide as he read it and the rest of his texts. A few of his classmates were sharing updates on their side of the world in the class chat — where Kaminari and Uraraka had both chimed in too — naming a few heroes he made sure to add to his notebook's list. On the private side, Yaoyorozu and Ojiro had both wished him well, messages he returned in kind with pleas to both for a signature from their respective heroes if and when they could. The tall girl promised him back minutes later, while his tailed friend responded more hesitantly with his agreement. His smile only dipped when he noticed the lack of messages from his blue-haired friend.
He clicked on Iida's contact, bringing the phone to his ear and crossing his fingers as it rang. "Hello!" came the slightly robotic voice of his friend, and the green haired teen sighed as it continued. "You have reached the voicemail box of Iida Tenya of the Iidaten family! My sincerest apologies that I have missed your call, but I do not doubt its importance! Please leave a message with your name and a brief summary of what you want to tell me, and I will call back with utmost haste to discuss the matters with you!"
Izuku let out a sigh before the line beeped in his ear. "Hey Tenya, it's Izuku. I wanted to call to see how you were doing; wanted to make sure you're okay. I hope everything's going great with Manual. And everything is fine here, I promise. Please call me back when you can. Or text, if it's better for you. Have a good night. Talk to you soon."
He tossed his phone to his bag and fell back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown. Worry gnawed at his ears, prickling the back of his hands, but he pushed those thoughts aside. He saw the news; he knew the Normal Hero had kept his blue-haired friend on patrol well into the evening. Of course Iida was probably tired or on call with his parents to talk about his day. He had worried over too much for too many months, time after time amounting to nothing he ever feared in the first place. The bad things were only surprises, not his expectations. He shouldn't panic on the first day of his work study, Izuku chided himself while getting comfortable for the night. Bakugou wasn't going to be around, the villains were still in hiding since they attacked Yuei, and he was going to be a good distance away from people who would give him shit for how he identified.
Everything was going to be fine.
Izuku met Silverfang in the morning for breakfast right on time, and as promised was permitted to retreat to his room and make his own preparations for the day. He kept the preworkout light, exercising and stretching in his room and in the indoor training grounds. The new material of his costume did feel tighter on his body and heavier on his arms and legs, but a few laps and some swings got him used to it in no time. When ten o'clock finally came to strike, he marched outside to find the white-haired hero waiting for him at the far end of the training grounds.
Silverfang hummed as he looked Izuku up and down. "An odd choice in costume," he critiqued. "Though your hairstyle and the way you fought does match the ruffian look. Though I must admit, I expected more formal fighting gear for someone so intent to learn from me."
"That's more of my friend's style," Izuku admitted, walking onto the field to stand opposite of the hero. "His costume is a stylized gi that works for his tail and flexibility. Since I wanted to use a bat, I kinda needed a costume that fit with it. This was the lesser of five evils."
"A pessimistic perspective to have." The hero stepped closer, stopping at the edge of the chalk-drawn circle in the court's center. "Paired with your style and your bat, you've solidified an image for your hero persona that is straight to the point. I've seen many students your age and older with a messy costume that is more fashion than practicality, fixing it and having to undo their entire public image as a hero to be recognized again. This suits the way you fight; aggressive, risky, brutal. Either it came to you naturally or you've slid into it without your own knowing." Izuku preferred the former.
"Now then," Silverfang sighed. His feet slid apart into a horse stance, his hands curled around from behind him to pose in front of his chest, and his eyes squinted into a competitive glare. "Let us begin by first testing your current capabilities."
Izuku stepped forward to match him in the circle, lowering his own stance and posing his bat beside his head. "A sparring match? I see where Hunter got it from."
Instead of the smile he was expecting, the green teen watched as the hero's expression hardened. "I imagine so. But this will not be a spar. Instead, you will swing at me and I will defend myself. Punching at air will only tell me so much; a proper target would be more accurate in judging your competence. And please do not pull your punches. I'll be just fine."
Matching his serious expression and instructions with a frown, Izuku stepped forward slowly. Once, then twice, then a third time. On the fourth step, he planted his foot, grit his teeth, and swung his bat at the hero's arms. Instead of his bat colliding with the man, Silverfang intercepted it with the back of his hand, guided it over his head, and pushed it away from the other side of his body; a faint trail of blue light hung in the air where his hand passed, though Izuku paid little attention to it as his body spun further than he was intending.
"Better form than you had at the Festival," Silverfang commented, his hand gliding back into place. "Though the weight of your weapon has slowed you down."
The quirkless teen puffed out his nose. "I feel it too," he remarked, planting his feet once more and swinging his bat up towards the hero. The old man averted it again, swerving his body to the side and pushing the bat upwards until it eclipsed both their heads. Halfway through, Izuku let go with his left hand and darted at the hero, aiming to grab his wrist, locking his arm as he held his bat high.
But Silverfang caught his hand first, twisting it inwards lightly and pushing it aside, at the same time as he bounded back from the ring. "Smart to use both your hands. But you telegraph your movement far too clearly, lock in before your next strike before you swing. It makes it easy to read your next move. All a novice would need is the speed to react." Izuku grunted, shaking his hands and gripping both on his bat again. "Does my commentary displease you?"
The teen shook his jaw in contemplation before answering honestly, "A little, yeah."
"The voice is only another weapon to wield. What you say and how you say it can change the course of a fight if used right. Distract, disorient, confuse; if your opponent is off their game, as you children say it, slower attacks like yours can sneak through their defenses. Unless you can attune to the weight and improve the speed of your strikes."
"Three moves was all it took?" Izuku asked back, baffled at their thirty second spar already being paused.
That brought the first smile Izuku had seen on the hero all day. "I've been teaching martial arts for thrice your lifetime. It helps that your fights in the Sports Festival were recorded for me to study." His hands swung back to chamber behind him, and the old man's feet slid back together. "You swing that bat of your mightily. That's more than the force needed to knock someone unconscious. Your teachers have taught you to restrain yourself, correct? Most criminals you would come across do not need that level of strength to be stopped."
To that, Izuku grunted unhappily, eyes drifting to stare at his own hands. "The villains who attacked us at Yuei had someone strong with them. He could take a hit, get back up, and swing back harder than this. He came to fight All-Might." Izuku still thought back to the criminal they called Nomu that All-Might and Togata had come together to defeat, hauled away into captivity in some undisclosed prison. His left eye still tensed at the memories.
"Would that be the one police escorted away on the news; big and purple?" Izuku nodded. "Yes, well, in life-or-death situations, we do find ourselves exerting the strength within ourselves to survive. But as a hero, you will face only vandalism, theft and public disturbance on such a common occurrence, if at all frequent. You might find yourself sparring with friend instead of foe most often. We must hold back our overwhelming strength for only those occasions in which it is necessary for us to exert ourselves and never another moment."
Overwhelming strength, Izuku noted with a frown. Was overanalyzing words unnecessary? Maybe, but Silverfang acknowledged he was quirkless. Did he assume he was lying from how he fought at the Festival? Most of the public brushed it all aside from the lack of flashiness to it, and even he admitted he looked as plain as ever when watching back the televised recording of the event. Maybe a more trained eye for martial arts could tell the difference? Then why play along with the lie?
"Do you know why I sent you a request letter?" Silverfang asked, plucking Izuku from his stewing thoughts.
"Because of how I fought in the Festival," he answered, remembering the hero's writing.
"More than that; it's what you fought with." The old hero drew his right hand out and waved it along in the air, leaving behind it a faint blue trail where it once occupied. "I conceived of the Fist of Flowing Water, Crushed Rock thanks to my quirk, propelling my hands through the air as though pushed by the roaring current. Though it is a quirk only I have, the practice and philosophy of my martial arts is something I can pass down and teach to others. It is a martials art anyone can learn to use, so long as they are willing. Though each of my students performs it as best they can with their own quirks and physique, I know it when I see it."
The green-haired teen was captivated by the stream of light that hung in the air in front of the hero. Because he recognized it, not too dissimilar from how his silver-haired friend had shown when they sparred. "Hunter's quirk looked like that too."
The look on Silverfang's face was somber. "My student taught you his way of expressing this; wild and animalistic. Talented as he was — ambitious as he was — he sought an aggressive approach through rose-tinted glasses." He swiped down through the stream he drew in the air, evaporating the light in one go. "I wish to train you properly in the way of the Fist of Flowing Water, Crushed Rock. Teach you the art both offensively and defensively."
"Is there a shorter name for that—"
"No." Ignoring Izuku's deadpan stare from being interrupted, the hero continued, "The Fist of Flowing Water, Crushed Rock can be implemented in the use of your bat. Adjustments will have to be made, but what you've learned from my old student will bridge that gap. Are you ready to learn?"
Izuku looked down at his bat once more, smiled, and met Silverfang's gaze with determination. "That's why I'm here."
"Good." The old hero nodded before turning his gaze slightly over Izuku's head. "First, we should address this."
Not high enough to focus on anything other than his hairstyle, the green-haired teen lamented. "I kinda had to make do with what I had," he grumbled. "Lost some of it from the villain attack. And I thought you said it worked with my costume."
Silverfang hummed. "I assumed as much, going off your scar. And though I did say that, I feel you could style it more creatively to your costume until your roots fully regrow." Without so much as a warning, his hands shot into Izuku's hair and the teen found his head whipped around rapidly for several seconds before he was let free. "There we are. I do believe that suits you better."
Izuku brushed along his hair once his head stopped spinning, feeling out the curved style he could barely see peeking over his brows and that flattened out at the back of his head. "...Did you just give me a pompadour?"
"You reminded me of an anime character from one of Charanko's shows with your costume. I do believe it looks more natural than the mohawk, myself."
The teen patted his hairstyle gently. At least he didn't cut off what hair he had left. "I'm surprised you managed to keep it down. I can never get it to do that."
"I did have to tie some strands together to help it keep its shape, I hope you don't mind."
"..."
"You're up in the mountains?" Kaminari's disbelief came from his phone's speaker.
"On top of a mountain," Izuku corrected.
"That sounds both cooler and much worse at the same time. Why is an agency built atop a mountain that far from civilization?"
Izuku shrugged despite the fact he was alone in his room and talking to his friend's on speaker. "It's where he built his dojo, and then he turned it into an agency." He ran a hand along his new hairdo, squeezing its condensed bushy texture like a plush toy. "Silverfang says most of his work with the Hero Association is hunting through the area for criminals hiding out or that were chased out of districts by heroes and police before they were caught. I know the Wild Wild Pussycats do a lot of wildlife work and contracts up north; have you gotten to do that yet?"
"No, but thank you for the warning."
"I still don't know why you chose them," Ojiro's confusion poked into the call. "Yeah, they're kinda cool but I didn't think you'd want to wear a dress."
"First of all, it's a skirt. Second of all, it's not a mandatory uniform and they can't force me to wear it. And Uraraka got taken by Hawks, so it's not like my plan to join her was possible."
A light gasp sounded after that. "You wanted to do the work study with me?" Uraraka asked.
Silence cut through the air much longer than Izuku was expecting, broken first by Ojiro's predictable snort before Kaminari followed with, "How long have you been here? I thought Hawks was working you like a mule for his shopping."
"Hawks isn't doing that!" the brunette stuttered her defense, her shouting shaking Izuku's phone from its place on the bed. "It's mostly stuff for me anyways, so really it's the other way around! But I'm not using him like a mule either! He's…Hawks has been helping me find gear and equipment to train my quirk and redesign my costume."
The green-haired teen was quick to swipe his phone off the mattress. "You're changing your costume? What to?"
"I was thinking of something more like an astronaut's suit. Hawks gave me the idea on the first day, but I've not spent a lot of time on the design yet. I've really only had time to practice with my quirk between the patrols and the shopping, and what I have drawn is…kinda rubbish, in his words. Not like his drawings are any better…"
"I can help you draft some ideas if you want," he offered quickly, "when we get back to school. Come up with something that doesn't restrict your movement as much as their suits do."
"Please? I only gave notes to Yuei for my costume originally, so the design is more their idea than mine. I'd like to design something completely for myself, if it's alright to ask for your help."
"Of course! I'd be happy to." Not even them already being his friends could kill the excitement of drafting a hero costume for them.
"How has it been with Hawks?" Ojiro interjected. "I saw you had a run-in on the road today. Are you feeling alright?"
The brunette opened her response with a long sigh; Izuku imagined she was probably melting away from the phone, knowing her dramatic actions. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was a shoplifter who could drive cars remotely with his quirk, but Hawks took care of him almost immediately. All I did was float him around until the police took him away for us."
"At least he didn't make you fight," Kaminari argued. "I haven't even gone on a patrol yet. The Pussycats have shown me how to navigate the phone lines and how distress signals work, but they've mostly had me help with their banners for some publicity event next week. I did get to meet one of their nephews, though. Maybe I can sneak away for a video game night with him if I bargain right."
Ojiro scoffed. "I'd be surprised if you convince them. You don't usually pass the speech check."
"Okay ghoul. Has it been any different for you?"
"No," the tailed boy quickly admitted with defeat. "I've not been on patrol either. It's been like Midoriya for me, sparring and training all day. I've almost won a few times. But I think we're supposed to go on patrol tomorrow."
"Same here," Izuku shared. "Silverfang got a call from someone today; said he had a request for a patrol for tomorrow. He didn't say where, but we're pretty close to Saitama prefecture so that's my first guess." The old man had heard his phone in the middle of their practice from outside, long after clearing up with the teen that his 'hair knots' bit was just a joke, returning from the call looking quite happy when he delivered the news. "I didn't think I was going to go on a patrol for this work study, being this far out."
"Hopefully he doesn't make you run to the city for that."
Izuku shared a quiet laugh. "I hope so too." He rested a moment longer, silently checking notes in his head. "Have you guys heard anything from Yaoyorozu or Iida today? I texted them earlier that we were gonna be on call."
"Yaomomo is out with Gunhead for dinner," Uraraka shared. "She sent a message in the girl's chat; since her quirk relies on her to store fat from foods in her system, he's treating her to a meal. She did a lot of creating today, apparently."
That was reassuring to hear, Izuku sighed, though he wondered wordlessly why she hadn't responded to him still.
"And I think Iida's still out on patrol," Kaminari guessed. "Mandalay told me about nighttime patrols and teams are usually separate teams from the daytime heroes, but I know there's been a lot more heroes on patrol in his area as of late, so maybe they're rotating him around as practice to see what he's more comfortable with. Maybe the less traffic means an Ingenium can survey the streets much more freely. Though maybe that would bring up a noise complaint."
Izuku was less inclined to believe that story, sadly. Their blue-haired friend had only texted him that morning with an apology for missing his call last night. The quirkless teen was quick to tell him it was all right and asked when a better time to call would be; he never got a response back to that.
"I'm worried about him," Izuku shared aloud. "He's not been talking to me. I know that's what I hoped Manual would do with him, but it's hard to tell, you know?"
"It's all poorly timed," Kaminari said, almost too flippantly regarding the matter. "His brother is put in a coma and suddenly he has to dawn the mantle and the name and keep the family business running. Maybe it's more responsibility than he can handle."
"He's not suddenly in charge of his family's agency, you know," Ojiro chided him harshly.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But he's an Ingenium now; the Ingenium now. For who knows how long until his brother wakes up and can suit up again. He's their new face, no matter where he is location wise. That was a lot for the school to put on him."
"Yuei has to schedule our work studies in advance with the agencies," Izuku argued. "Would it be fair to Tenya to hold him back at school while we're all learning out here?"
"None of it is fair to Iida," Uraraka interjected softly, just before either blond could follow up. "But I know Iida's strong and brave. He's trying to be strong for his brother and his family, and for us worrying that he's gonna break down. He's not okay, but I think he's trying his best. And when we all come back from classes, we can corner him for apologies for shutting us out and make sure he remembers he can confide in us."
The other boys on the call solemnly agreed with her, and Izuku nodded his head silently. Maybe he wasn't giving Iida enough credit; he knew the taller boy was brave when he needed to be, and at least more emotionally stable than he was. Maybe not hearing anything else on the news but his presence was a good thing. "I'm worrying too much," he apologized to his friends.
"You're worrying the same amount we have about you," Ojiro reasoned with him. "Welcome to our side of the pond. I'm with Uraraka on this; next we see him, I'll give him the same amount of shit I gave you for being stupid. Affectionate."
"Good save," Kaminari chimed in. "I was about to smack talk you in the group chat. If any of you hear back from him sooner, tell him I give my best wishes. I'll see if he just responds to my texts."
"Will do," Izuku promised, as did their other friends. He wished them all a good night a few minutes later, checking the empty space on his phone he was hoping a message would appear. Maybe he was worrying too much; maybe he wasn't worrying enough. But Ojiro was right, and this probably was how they felt when he had been in trouble. He should give his friend more faith than that, as he had done for him.
He had done his best not to show nor voice it, but Tenya was quite frustrated. He was originally relieved on his first day with Manual, validating his anger towards Stain and his accomplice while allowing him to join in the investigation hunting them down. But the third day of his work study was coming to a close, and progress was all but naught. He and Manual had walked down the same streets of Hosu in a new order each day without a sight or a hint of the Hero Killer's presence; or any criminal presence, for that matter. Everything was quiet, and all it did was let the roar in Tenya's ears ring unperturbed. When were they going to make a break in the case?
Regardless, he continued to follow along. Just because their search was the equivalent of a crawl did not mean he would leave the mission. The Hero Killers were too dangerous to walk away from — to leave to their own devices — and he would bring only shame to the Ingenium name were he to walk away before the job was done. He owed it to his brother to continue the search.
That did not mean his anger would subside, however. "Another slow day," the blue-haired teen noted aloud.
The water-bending hero lightly jabbed him with his elbow. "Don't say that like it's a bad thing," Manual chided him. "Slow means people are safe. I want to catch him too, but the less heroes he hurts, the better."
"I agree," Tenya assured him, raising a hand defensively. "But another day we don't find him is another day he has to slip away in the corners of our eyes. A double-edged sword. He's being careful."
"He's slipping," Manual corrected him. "No, we haven't found him directly, but a patrol team in the East region responded to a disturbance call — took them to an apartment complex no one's leasing but a few displaced people have been hiding in. They found a room filled with newspapers, a list of hero names and photos of a few people we believe are going to be targets. They believe it to be the Hero Killer's current or latest hideout."
The break they needed, Tenya praised internally. "He wasn't there, then?"
"No, but that list of heroes? All of them have been admitted to hospitals over the past few weeks. It's not everyone he's hurt, but it has your brother's name on it. We're more than confident it's his place. Police have been sweeping it down all day for anything else, I'm pretty sure."
The engine-quirked teen let out a deep sigh he hadn't known he was holding. That was more than the confirmation they needed, then. It was probably the place that both Stain and his associate used to hide between hunts. He did not find it himself nor did he pass on the knowledge of what was found, but it felt like a win in Tenya's mind. One step closer to putting them away for their crimes. Keeping a list of past targets was very incriminating evidence, the teen noted internally, so why would they make one?
"You said they found evidence suggesting to be his next target?" he double-checked with the hero.
Manual nodded. "A few photos of heroes who are still active, but the state of one photo suggests his main target is an old martial arts hero, goes by the alias Silverfang." Tenya froze in his next step, though the water-bending hero continued to walk unawares. "They already contacted him to warn him, probably setting up the right trap before Stain can reach him—Ingenium?"
Tenya knew the name instantly; hard to forget what one friend spent a week gushing about while the other planned to attend under him. And if the hero had a target on his head, then Midoriya would be caught in the crossfire. Fear and guilt crawled into the space between his lungs as he met the hero's confused gaze; what happened to his brother was going to happen to his friend.
"Midoriya is interning under him right now," Tenya informed the hero, fumbling with the pockets of his costume to get his phone. "They're going to get him too. I have to warn him—"
A gloved hand fell over his. "They already have been," Manual repeated to him. "Silverfang already knows what the police told him, and he's probably told his student too. They're several districts away from here, Tenya. The room they found doesn't look anywhere near abandoned, so Stain has to be in the area still. And tomorrow, the police are going to be at his place to help protect him. Your friend is going to be fine, I promise you."
He should have told him about Stain's partner, Tenya chided himself, gripping his phone and glaring at his reflection on the empty screen. He held it back because he knew bringing it to light would only have them doubt the choice to let him help, and now they weren't expecting anyone other than Stain to hunt heroes. They could be there right now and the heroes wouldn't have known any better.
"Manual, I—"
A scream cut through the air, silencing Tenya and drawing the heads of both men to the end of the road where civilians were looking around the corner. The blue-haired teen took another look at his helmet's reflection and Manual rushed down the sidewalk before scoffing, pocketing his phone and hurrying to catch up. He rejoined the hero as they arrived at the alleyway where people began to crowd around, and pushed through to find a woman kneeling over a man laying in the trash.
"Ma'am!" Manual addressed the woman, coming to slide down beside her and looking between her and the fallen man. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I saw a villain!" the lady stuttered out, her head snapping around to look around the alley. "There was another man standing over him, but they ran when I screamed! I don't remember where they went."
Tenya took one look at the man on the ground and caught his breath. They looked no older than him, dressed in only a white gi that was either their uniform or their costume. But their attire, their light skin and their bright orange hair were scratched with blood, dirt and growing bruises. He was still breathing, but barely. Not a single cut could be seen on their body; not the work of Stain.
This was the work of the other Hero Killer.
While Manual checked the wounds of the fallen hero or sidekick, Tenya turned his attention to the civilian. He set his hands on her shoulders, crouching down to look her in the eyes. "Do you remember what they looked like?" he asked her hurriedly.
The woman sputtered under the attention, looking between him and the downed hero. "It was dark," she stuttered still. "I could barely make them out."
"Could you see any weapons on their person? And swords or other blades? Could you see any red in their attire?"
"Ingenium!" Manual shouted at him. "Leave the poor woman be and set up a perimeter! She can give her testimony when the police arrive."
"He didn't have any weapons," the woman recalled, still shaking under Tenya's touch. "I couldn't see anything on him but his clothing. I couldn't see the colors, but it was all darker colors."
It wasn't Stain, Tenya couldn't help but cheer internally. The man was still in Hosu. Midoriya was still safe. They could still catch him.
"Please, do you remember anything else about this man or how he looked?" he pleaded with her again
A hand roughly grabbed his shoulder to pull him away from the woman. "Ingenium! Now is not the time!"
Tenya turned his burning eyes on the hero. "This is the man we've been looking for! Not Stain, but his accomplice! He's the one who hurt Tensei!"
Manual's angry expression morphed with bafflement and shock, his grip on the teen's costume loosening slightly. "Tenya—"
DOOM
All their heads turned to the other end of the alley, watching as civilians ran past all heading away from the sudden explosion, screaming and pushing each other along. Tenya stepped forward in an instant, putting the woman and Manual behind him with the wounded hero. Was this him, he wondered. Had the man who hurt his brother just hunted another?
A large indigo hand slapped on the road right into view, followed by a trio of heads like a hellhound with snouts a meter long and brains exposed over white beady eyes. The three heads barked wildly after the fleeing civilians, their heavy body crouching down to the pavement below. Tenya heard the people behind him fleeing, a chorus of footsteps clacking away from the scene; one his body felt the urge to join. Two of the beast's heads continued to watch the fleeing civilians from its road, while its leftmost temple turned and spotted him.
Though this man looked different, Tenya could see all the similarities they shared with the USJ villain his classmates and teachers had fought. This man had arms that reached all the way down to the ground and still had to bend its arms back, and its canine heads were unlike the other's avian face, but the purple skin, tattered brown pants and exposed brains were a one-to-one match. Were they with the villains who attacked Yuei too? Was this man related to the other?
The beastly man turned its whole body to Tenya, slowly stalking its way into the alley, clawing at the walls on either side while their three rows of teeth gnarled at him. The blue-haired teen was locked in place, unable to push his feet back another step while the villain straightened its back and eclipsed his height three-fold.
"What the hell is that?" Manual questioned breathlessly, his voice shaking in Tenya's ear.
The other monster of a man had hurt his friends and his teacher — it nearly killed two of them. Yet all Tenya's classmates talked about was how Aizawa, Todoroki, Togata and even Midoriya had stepped up to the villain and fought him back until All-Might arrived. All of them had shown the bravery to stand up to villainy, he reminded himself, closing his eyes and taking a long breath. They did their best to be heroes for everyone else; as he was supposed to be.
"Whoever they are," Tenya responded over the growing roar of the exhausts on his legs, "they're with the men who hurt my friends."
The beastly man caught his hand on a fire escape, and the metal cracked under their weight and upset their balance as their grip fell. Tenya took that moment to charge, bursting forward with his quirk and tackling the man in his legs to push him back out into the street. He stopped himself just at the edge of the sidewalk while the villain tumbled into cars on the other end of the road, roaring and flailing as they crashed. They were quick to pick themselves up, planting their hands into the pavement and roaring at Tenya with all their might. Before they could charge at him, a manhole cover flew into the jaw of the middle head, silencing all three in surprise.
"Stand back, Ingenium!" Manual shouldered past Tenya, pointing his arms at the villain as water erupted from the sewers and swirled around them. They roared as the orb of water lifted them into the air, flailing their arms in an attempt to grab a light post or the nearest building. With them trapped, the Normal Hero turned his fierce gaze back to the teen. "Rush that man to the closest paramedics you can find! There should be a clinic three blocks east and two south! Then start guiding civilians to the nearest safehouse!"
"I cannot abandon you to fight this man alone, sir!" Tenya argued back. "This man may be in league with the villains who attacked Yuei, and the man he resembles was only stopped by All-Might!"
The hero grunted, a stream of blood trickling from his nose. "I can hold him until help arrives! You save that man's life first! That is an order, Ingenium! Get him out of here now!"
The blue-haired teen looked up again at the struggling villain in the ball of water, another at the intense gaze the hero gave him, and one more to the wounded man still left in the alleyway before he grunted and turned away from the action. "Yes sir." He scooped the orange-haired man into his arms, sparing only a second to look over his shoulder as Manual pushed more water from beneath the road into the air, and dashed away.
Tenya made it to the clinic in record time, leaving the hero to the scruffy man and his auburn-haired wife who owned the facility before returning to the street. He gazed in the direction he had left Manual, his feet tensing to dart back to the fight, before an explosion erupted and smoke shot above the buildings in the opposite direction from whence he came. Another fight was taking place?
A group of heroes came from around the corner behind him, led by a man with a lion's head. "Everyone, this way!" he roared at his group, before his eyes landed on the speedster teen with confusion. "Ingenium?"
"Healthy and ready, sir!" he saluted, pointing his other arm in the direction of his instructor. "Manual is currently locked in combat with a villain three blocks west and two blocks north! We found another hero injured in a fight and currently in the care of this clinic! I do not know the origin of the explosion east! Are you on your way to assist them?"
The proud hero growled. "Manual is fighting someone too?" He turned back to the group of heroes and sidekicks following him, pointing two claws in opposite directions. "Lady, Lizard; go help Manual in apprehending his villain. Boomer, go inside and check on their patient and call the nearest hospital. Slider, guide civilians to the safehouse on Johto. You too, Ingenium, and thank you for the information. Everyone else, with me!" Tenya watched as the heroes broke off into the groups, staring longingly at the duo headed for his teacher before being grabbed by the green-costumed woman ushering him along.
Tenya ran through the information in his head as helped guide the confused and scared people around him to safety. This had to be the criminal group who attacked them at Yuei; the similarities in that villain and this one were too coincidental to mean anything but. That brought up the question, why attack here? They originally cornered them at the USJ because they were looking to kill All-Might, were they not? What was in Hosu that would drive them here? The Hero Killers, he surmised coldly. Was it coincidence too that this attack was in the city both men had been recently hunting heroes? Did this mean they were working together in killing heroes and attacking the public? But how would this benefit them, men who attacked heroes in the darkest corners of the cities working with villains who were loud and destructive?
He realized the answer as another group of heroes ran by in the distance, headed for the chaos he was walking away from. A large commotion and acts of terror would draw heroes in droves, condensing them into small areas in specific places. Between them and away from them would be pockets of the city with little a hero around to defend anyone, themselves included. The perfect target for the Hero Killers. Which meant if these villains attacked the north side of the city, Stain and his accomplice would be hunting in the south. What would be better for them than the chance to break apart the heroes' collective efforts to pressure them?
Tenya turned south without a second thought, igniting his legs and rushing down the road; away from the civilians and the hero who called out after him. He would not let the Hero Killers get away under his watch. Not when his friend could be in danger. Not when his brother needed to be avenged.
Ingenium had to be remembered as a hero.
His new hairstyle still needed getting used to, and his costume and bat no longer felt noticeably heavy to lug around, but those weren't where Izuku's mind wandered. On the taxi ride to Saitama prefecture, he asked the old hero beside him, "Why Hosu?"
Silverfang answered, "Heroes have been bouncing between agencies and cities to assist one another in the rise of cases involving Stain. The call I received yesterday asked for my help in patrolling the city. I know a few heroes nearby, who probably passed my name around or drew it out of a hat. I think it would be a good opportunity for you."
As they moved from taxi to train, he asked again, "So they want us to find Stain?"
"Nothing of the sort. The Hero Killer has kept his activity low for the past few weeks. The sudden uptick in heroes has put him on edge, tiptoeing around the city until he finds an opening and he has yet to find one since he put Ingenium in the hospital. We are simply being asked to patrol. Any evidence that hints to his whereabouts or actions is to be reported to the police, who are in charge of the case of finding and apprehending him. But this also helps the people feel secure. His hunts have put people on edge, afraid they might find themselves in his sights. A larger number of heroes in the area means he is hesitant to act and the people are assured of their safety in numbers. A publicity stunt more than it is a call to action. I would not have brought you along if we were looking for him."
It wasn't until they arrived in Hosu that Izuku remembered it was where Iida was too. He spent all that time reassuring himself Manual was a good pick because of his relationship to the Iidaten agency that he didn't even question the location of his agency or where he worked. He only calmed himself at the thought that maybe the Normal Hero saw it first. Was Manual taking Iida on the same patrols Silverfang was guiding him on now, simply looking for clues and putting the public at ease? Was it helping his friend any in processing his emotions?
Yet something else was wrong too. Izuku remembered Tenya's theory of his brother's assailant — not Stain but someone else that went unnamed and noticed. Why had they called in Silverfang to hunt only the Hero Killer and not also his possible accomplice? Did the police not know about him? Did Tenya not share it with them, or had they turned away his theory when he had?
"Is Stain the only one the heroes are looking for out here?" he asked the old hero as they patrolled the city's streets.
Silverfang looked at him from over his shoulder, a focused curiosity in his eyes. "Do you know of another notorious criminal hiding in this city?"
Izuku frowned. "No, but my friend thinks there is someone who might be working with him. He thinks they're the one who hurt Ingenium, not the Hero Killer. I thought he would have brought it up, since he's in the city too."
The martial artist shook his head. "The police mentioned no one else to be mindful of. Did your friend have any theories as to who they could be?" Before Izuku could answer, a roar rang out in the air. Their attention turned towards where it came from in the distance, civilians turning heads the same way in confusion. And then another roar responded, much closer to them than the other.
Izuku looked up with Silverfang, at the bulky, purple-skinned giant leading over the top of a building. His gorilla-shaped body crushed the ledge of the rooftop, and his exposed brain was illuminated by the setting sun on the horizon. Exposed bones decorated his arms like tattoos, from his shoulders all the way down to his knuckles. Though not exactly the same, Izuku still saw the monster who nearly broke his skull in that man.
"He looks like one of the villains from the USJ," he said aloud, taking a step back and gripping his bat tightly.
"Yes he does," Silverfang agreed. "I see where the intensity behind your swings comes from. That is quite the intimidating look in the flesh." The man leapt off the building, not jumping so far as he did aim for Izuku and the hero. The green-haired teen found himself pulled out of the way before the monstrous villain crushed him, pushed behind the old hero. "Given the similarities between you and that other criminal, would I be correct in assuming you are in cahoots with the men who attacked the school?"
The gorilla mutant did not respond to him with words but with actions, raising both his fists to crush the hero. Silverfang sidestepped the strike with ease, knocking the fists together with one hand while the other curled into a fist and crashed into the villain's side. His violet skin rippled from the impact, before his body actually tumbled into the road.
"That's hardly the speed necessary to match someone like the Symbol of Peace," the martial artist noted, calmly walking into the street as the villain pushed himself up. "I take it you lack the strength of your cohort as well." The bones on his arms shifted until they shined an ugly silver, and with a roar he swung at Silverfang again. The old man ducked beneath the fist and sent a flurry of his own strikes into the man's chest, ending with one that connected under the jaw and sent the villain stumbling back over a car.
Izuku rushed out to stand by his side, but the hero held a hand out to stop him halfway. "Metal Bat," he addressed him by his hero name, "please prioritize the safety of the civilians in my stead. I will hold this man here until the authorities come to apprehend him. Heroes in the city should be able to direct you to the nearest safehouse. Please protect them for me."
Izuku hesitated, watching the animalistic man slowly pick himself up. "Are you sure I can't help?"
"As I told you before, my intention was not to bring you here for a fight. Allow me to keep my word as a hero."
An explosion erupted several blocks down, the faint light peeking around the corner of the road. "And if I run into any other villains?"
"Then you have my full permission to fight in an effort to defend yourself and the innocent people. Now go."
The quirkless teen watched a second longer before thrusting his bat into the air above his head. "Everyone! Please follow me to safety! The heroes will have this under control! Help anyone move away if you can!"
As Izuku led the civilians away, his mind wandered to the villain. With a look like that, he had to be related in some capacity to the one he fought at the USJ. What was one of them doing in Hosu, or were the sounds of chaos around them a sign that more than just the one was present?
A blur of blue and silver darted across the road in front of Izuku, and the teen only pieced together what he saw from the shouts of the hero failing to chase after it.
Oh god damnit.
He had to be close, Tenya prayed. He had gone down block after block, checking alley after alley and overturning stone after stone. The chaos of the fighting in the city was but a tingle in the back of his ears overtaken by his own beating heart. He was in exactly the right place to look for these bastards so where were they? Where were the damn Hero Killers?
Ten blocks later, he found his answer. Barely lit in the depths of one alley were two men; one was held by his neck against the wall; the other held the first man with one hand and readied a sword in his other. Stain, the Hero Killer, poised to kill another hero — as Tenya expected. It wasn't the man he was hoping for, but one would lead to the other. His legs shifted gear and launched him down the alley, swinging a leg at the Hero Killer's head.
He was lucky the sword aimed at his head only scratched along his helmet.
Tenya grunted as he tumbled across the ground, sliding to a halt after ending on his stomach. He glared through his helmet, the left eye hole chipped wider by the man's blade. There before him stood Stain, armed to the teeth in blades on his body and bandages wrapped around his limbs. His red mask did nothing to cover his missing nose but everything to highlight his piercing eyes looking at the teenager curiously.
"Another one arrives," the Hero Killer grumbles, dropping the hero in hands to the ground. Stain squinted as he looked at Tenya. "You recovered fast, yet you made the mistake of donning your costume once more."
So he did know. "Silence, Hero Killer!" Tenya shouted back at him, pushing himself up to kneel. "This is the end of the line for your heinous acts of violence! You and your cohort have hunted heroes long enough!" Fire burned in his chest, speeding down his veins before bursting out from his legs. "Now face justice from the hero you failed to kill!"
He shot his body at the man again, tilting only in time to miss the blade that grazed at his armored side, and pivoted on his heels to come to a stop. Stain was fast, he noted as the man leapt into the air to perch on a fire escape, enough to guess his moves and react accordingly. No wonder the man was capable of hunting so many heroes. He angled his body back, falling onto the heels of his feet, and with another burst of his quirk launched himself at the Hero Killer.
A mistake on his part, as his body had to intercept two throwing knives that implanted themselves in his leg and his arm. He overshot Stain in his moment of pain, falling back to the ground to crash on his back as he shouted in pain. One hand curled around the blade in his thigh, while the other flinched at the touch of the one in his arm.
"Your costume is all wrong," the killer growled as he dropped to the ground safely. "The exhausts are in the wrong place; they would be on your arms if you were the real Ingenium. What is an imposter doing, wearing his name and his clothes?"
"I am no imposter!" Tenya spat back at the man. "I am the successor to the Ingenium name! And I am here to put an end to your terror—" A blade dropped towards his head, hanging just above his right eye.
"Foolish child." Stain knelt down his gleaming ruby eyes boring into Tenya's. "You are a successor to greed and fame known only for selfishness." The blue-haired teen screamed as the killer ripped the knife from his arm and inspected the blood dripping down the blade. "You say this is for honor? For justice? Rushing me like a fool as you leave another to suffer?"
Stain forced Tenya's head to turn, pointing his sword to the hero motionless on the wall; alive, but limp. He recognized the man, decorated in light brown clothing and a fur cape; Native, if he had that right. A nighttime hero who operated in the more inland districts. For a moment he wondered what the man was doing in Hosu, but the presence of the Hero Killer proved the answer enough. He was one of the heroes helping to hunt him in the first place, wasn't he?
"True heroes do not prioritize violence. They do not seek war and conflict. A real hero is a savior, not an instigator." As Tenya twisted his head back up to the man, he froze; against his will, he felt his body lock up and he was unable to move it any further. "You are not a hero; you are more like those fools of the League. You are a child, humiliating your family and name you think you honor. You attack me to defend the name of Ingenium?" His sickly frown only deepened. "Like those same fools, you mistake someone else's work for my own. I had nothing to do with that pathetic hero. You wasted your life chasing the wrong man."
Tenya tried his hardest to budge, moving only his eyes as Stain repositioned his sword above his head. His legs wouldn't move, his arms were stuck in place, and he couldn't even twist his neck. Staring down the blade pointed at his eye, he could do nothing but watch. Watch as Stain licked his lips. Watch as Native struggled to move himself.
Watch a shadow pass over him.
The Hero Killer had noticed it too, jumping back and away from Tenya as another man fell from sky, fist crashing into the ground where Stain once stood. The blue-haired teen watched the new man rip his fist from the stone, crack his knuckles and rise up to face down the Hero Killer. He could barely see the man from his frozen position, peering from the corner of his eye past the tai chi shoes and the gray pants to only catch a glimpse of his silver hair jutting out behind his head.
The man barked a laugh, pointing at the Hero Killer. "I've been looking for you," he announced happily. "Was beginning to think you skipped town. Followed Speed Force here away from all the chaos uptown and he led me right to you. What a stroke of luck! Speaking of which" — the man peered down at Tenya with a predatory glare — "I see you're back on your feet. I thought I beat you unconscious."
Tenya could hear his heart pumping in his ears, staring back up at the golden eyes of a wolf judging him for prey. This was the man he was looking for — the man who tried to kill his brother. He finally came face-to-face with him, and he couldn't even move a muscle; he couldn't do anything more than glare back up at the man.
"So you defeated Ingenium," Stain summarized aloud. "That is not him. Just some child in costume pretending. Seeing revenge for an effort you failed to see through to the end."
As fast as a snap did the hunger in the man's eyes disappear, peeked now with interest as he looked down Tenya's body. "Huh. Guess you do look a bit different. Thought you just changed the helmet. Eh, whatever. I'll get back to you later." He stepped towards Stain, rolling his shoulder and cracking his wrists. "I'm dealing with you first. The news keeps crediting my hunts to you, and it's just my stroke of luck I knocked that speedster unconscious so he can't spread the word for me."
The Hero Killer drew a second sword, grumbling as he crouched like a deer. "I do not do this for the fame nor the notoriety. Half-measure attempts like yours, failing to put down the cretin who dare call themselves heroes, has but pushed them into their work tenfold. Their mockery of the title worsens because of you. Your search for me will only end in your demise."
The man barked another laugh at Stain. "You freaks of the hero and villain world, always so full of yourself! Your whole shtick is about fame and reputation! Everything you fools ever do is for the attention! You're not above it!" He shook his body with a single wave, dropping his stance and holding his hands in front of him with his fingers pointed down like fangs bared at the Hero Killer. "I intend to turn your dress-up world on its head. Not a day will go by where you do not cower in fear of the name; Garou."
Tenya could do nothing more than watch as the two hero hunters leapt at each other, poised only to kill their prey. All while he would be left as the scraps for the victor.