Izuku had rose early today, and his body hated him for it. Saturdays should be slept in until at least ten! But today he had work to do, as today he had his first real consultation! He was incredibly nervous but he forced himself to remain calm and focused. First, he found some proper gym clothes, forgoing his "shirt" shirt for a plain light blue t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. 'Jirou wouldn't make fun of these, right?' Fashion was something the boy ever truly paid attention to, but if he was going to be meeting new people regularly now, he should put more of an effort into his appearance and stop buying joke shirts. 'Maybe I should take her up on that shopping trip offer.' Second, he sent out a message to his new client that he was on his way to the gym. He would probably get there a little early but it was much better to be there early than late. And finally, he put in his headphones as he pulled up the newest album Jirou had recommended him; Pressure by a band called Wage War.

After giving his mom a quick hug and taking a granola bar from the kitchen, he made his way out the apartment and started his jog to the bus station. It was a beautiful morning, clear skies, birds singing their songs, even the air smelled cleaner than usual. Strangers smiled at him as he ran by, children played in the small local park while their parents watched, and the smell emanating from the bakery up ahead was so good it nearly causes the boy to change course. Everything indicated that today was going to be a good day.

At least, until he arrived at the bus station.

Sitting on the bench was Katsuki Bakugou, dressed in a nice pair of slacks and a clean white button up. Slowing down and taking out his head phones, Izuku approached the bench with a slight air of caution. It had been nearly a month since they'd talked in his room, and they had hardly spoken to each other since. Forget talking, they had hardly acknowledged each other's presence. Slowing to a walk and removing his headphones, Izuku cautiously sat down on the bench, leaving plenty of room between the two boys, and let out a friendly greeting. "Hey Kacchan."

Katsuki looked at him and let out a noncommittal grunt. The boy looked tired, as if he hadn't been sleeping well, deep and heavy bags under his eyes. With seemingly nothing else to say to Izuku the explosive blond turned away and closed his eyes as if he were planning on napping until the bus arrived.

That was perfectly fine with Izuku, he didn't really have anything to say either. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to fill the space with idle conversation. After a few moments, the quiet was broken by the soft hum of Izuku's phone vibrating in his pocket, alerting him to a new message. He absentmindedly reached for it, expecting another run-of-the-mill notification, but when he glanced at the screen and saw who had texted him, a genuine smile spread across his face.

Vision_Knight: The All Might Spring Festival statue and the Grand Operation poster arrived undamaged. Thank you for going the extra mile with the packing foam, these items will be a wonderful addition to my collection.

Izuku couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the message. He clicked on the image attached to the text and examined the photo of the statue and poster now safely settled in their new home. But as his eyes roamed over the picture, something unusual caught his attention. There was something oddly familiar about the background—he could have sworn he had seen that room somewhere before. Was it in a photo? Or maybe a video?

His curiosity deepened as he took in the scene. The walls were plastered with All Might posters, almost like wallpaper. The bookshelves in the background were lined with action figures, each meticulously displayed in their original packaging. Everything about the room was neat and orderly, almost obsessively so. But that wasn't what made Izuku's breath catch in his throat.

In the far corner of the photo, barely visible, was something… a hand. A blue hand. It was just on the edge of the frame, almost as if it wasn't meant to be seen, but it was there. Izuku's heart skipped a beat as his mind raced to connect the dots. Was… Was Vision_Knight—

Before he could finish his thought, his musings were abruptly cut short by the sound of familiar voices calling his name. He jerked his head up, momentarily shaken out of his deepening suspicions, and blinked as reality snapped back into focus.

"Well look who it is. Deku came out of his cave."

"Waiting for the bus, Deku? You sure you don't need a special one for people like you?"

It was Tsubasa and Yubi from school. While most people were content to ignore him, avoiding even a glance in his direction, these two seemed to find joy in tormenting him whenever they could. Izuku's heart sank at the sight of them. He could already feel the tension tightening in his chest, as if a heavy weight had suddenly settled there. "H-h-hey guys. It's been a while." Izuku stammered, forcing the words out despite the tightness in his throat.

"He probably needs someone to hold his hand to even get on the bus. You know, like a little kid. Though with no quirk, you're basically useless, huh?" Tsubasa flared his wings, continuing to mock him as if he never opened his mouth.

Izuku's eyes darted to his side, silently hoping Katsuki would intervene, or at least wake up. But the blond appeared as if he had actually fallen asleep, his head resting back against the bench, face relaxed. Was he truly oblivious? Or was he just pretending not to notice?

"It's kind of pathetic, isn't it?" Yubi started, flanking Izuku's other side. "Everyone else is out there getting stronger, mastering their quirks, and you're just... waiting. What's the point, Deku? You're always gonna be a zero."

Izuku felt the familiar sting of tears beginning to form in his eyes, but he fought them back, keeping his gaze on the ground. His lips twisted into a forced smile, plastered across his face like a poorly made mask. It was easier this way, he told himself. Easier to endure it with a smile than to try and fight back. "Well, you know how it is... Gotta do something," he muttered, his voice small and flat. He hated how weak he sounded but in moments like these, he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"Oh, don't be so hard on him, Yubi," Tsubasa jeered, his wings fluttering slightly as he leaned closer. "He's not totally useless. Someone's gotta be the punching bag, right?"

"Maybe we should help him out," Yubi said with a wicked grin, extending his fingers until they resembled claws. He reached out and grabbed Izuku's shirt, twisting the fabric in his grip. "Give him a head start on being the punching bag he was born to be."

Izuku's heart pounded in his chest as Yubi's grip tightened. He could feel his hands trembling slightly, though he tried to remain as still as possible. Then, suddenly, the air around them shifted. All three froze at the unmistakable sound of crackling explosions, sharp and menacing. Katsuki's hands were lighting up like a string of fireworks, each burst sending a clear and dangerous message. The sound was fast and constant, like a rattlesnake's warning signal that even the smallest wrong move would result in a vicious bite.

"Piss off," Katsuki growled, his voice low and rough with exhaustion. His body was rigid, every muscle taut with barely restrained energy. "Get a goddamn life, you two."

Yubi's fingers immediately loosened from Izuku's shirt, but despite the threat practically crackling in the air around him, he seemed to completely miss the danger Katsuki was radiating. With a chuckle, Yubi raised his hands in mock surrender. "Come on, man, we're just messing around," he said, trying to brush it off as if nothing serious had happened.

Tsubasa, however, was more wary. His eyes kept darting down to Katsuki's still-sparking hands, watching the erratic flickers of light and the way they danced along his palms like wild, untamed energy. There was something off about the way Bakugou was acting. "What's up with you lately?" Tsubasa asked, his voice cautious, trying to mask his growing unease. "You haven't been the same since the slime-"

That was the last word he managed to get out. The moment Tsubasa tried to mention the incident with the sludge villain, Katsuki's entire body jerked into motion. He launched himself off the bench with sudden, explosive force, his face twisted into a vicious snarl. His hands flared brighter, the sparks now crackling wildly, no longer contained. He was fully poised to attack, his body angled toward the winged boy, ready to unleash his frustration and fury.

Izuku stood up quickly, instinctively stepping forward to place himself between Katsuki and Tsubasa. His heart raced even faster, a mix of fear and desperation flooding his mind. But before he could move any closer, a loud, rumbling sound filled the air. The roar of a large engine echoed down the street, cutting through the tension like a knife. The bus had arrived, its hulking form slowly crawling to a standstill beside them.

The arrival of the bus halted everything. Katsuki froze mid-step, his hands smoking but gone was the wild explosions, no longer at the ready to strike. Tsubasa quickly stepped back, his wings fluttering nervously as he put some distance between himself and the fuming Katsuki. Yubi, too, took a few steps away, glancing between his friend and the bus as if unsure whether he should stay or flee.

Izuku, seizing the opportunity to escape, was the first to board the bus. He moved quickly, eager to put as much distance between himself and the two bullies as possible. But as he hurried up the steps, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He glanced back, just in time to see Yubi and Tsubasa sprinting down the street, fleeing the scene as quickly as their legs could carry them. Izuku turned his gaze to Katsuki, who was still standing by the bench. A self-satisfied smirk curled on the blonde's lips, his earlier rage seemingly forgotten in the wake of his small victory.

Izuku decided to head to his usual seat at the back of the bus, passing by an empty seat in the middle on his way down the aisle. It was only when he reached the back did he notice that every seat besides that one was full. Seeing no other option, he sheepishly made his way back to the middle of the bus to sit next to Katsuki once more. Izuku was still weary of the boy, while he had done nothing to him, in fact he even defended him today, the anger he had seen in the boy's eyes screamed at him that he should be cautious. Sitting on the very edge of the seat, making sure he left plenty of room between them, he was nearly thrown off the seat when the bus made a turn. At which point Katsuki half-yelled, his tone harsh and impatient., "Just sit on the damn seat!"

Izuku flinched at the outburst, his body stiffening reflexively. His heart skipped a beat, the sudden surge of Katsuki's anger sending a wave of anxiety through him. But this wasn't the same raw, explosive fury Izuku had seen earlier. This was more... exasperation. As if Bakugou couldn't deal with the added nuisance of Izuku's awkward hovering on top of everything else.

Realizing how foolish he must have looked, Izuku quickly slid back fully onto the seat, doing his best to sit properly this time while still making sure Katsuki had his space. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks as embarrassment settled over him. His heart still raced, but now it was out of awkwardness rather than fear.

Deciding it would be best to distract himself until he reached his stop, Izuku took out his phone to review his agenda for the day.

He pulled up the Analytica DMs he received on Tuesday;

ChivalrousRiot: hey man did you slip a note into my locker?

All Green: No? Who is this?

ChivalrousRiot: sorry, but I got a note in my locker this morning about you doing quirk consultation?

All Green: I am. I put up a site for people to contact me on. A note?

ChivalrousRiot: yeah just some note in my locker. it's just a bit weird as I was literally talking to my friends about my problem yesterday and one of them mentioned getting a consultation

All Green: I swear I didn't put anything in your locker. I don't know who did.

All Green: But if you do want a consultation I am offering. I ask only for a small fee and a review on my site upon completion.

ChivalrousRiot: no offence man but this is setting off some alarm bells in my head.

All Green: I understand. I won't be offended if you say no. I would be suspicious if someone left a random not in my locker as well.

ChivalrousRiot: you got any proof you are a consultant?

All Green: No. I made this site, Green Thoughts, but there are no reviews yet. It only went live two days ago.

A few minutes of no response

ChivalrousRiot: it says you're a kid with no real experience?

All Green: Yes. Im trying to get some experience to help when I do this more professionally. I tried to make that as obvious as possible up front.

All Green: Should I make that text bigger? I don't want to trick anyone into thinking I'm a pro.

ChivalrousRiot: no its fine the way it is. I actually feel a little better talking to you now.

Talks went well after that, after some back and forth they decided on a gym that was close to both of them and went decided the weekend would perfect for them. Izuku was about to pull up the Gym's hours when he was pulled out of focus by the sound of yelling next to him.

Pulled back into the real world he looked away from his phone to see an angry Katsuki next to him. "-just let me off!"

Izuku only caught the tail end of what was said but it was obvious that he was trying to get off the bus, so the green haired teen scrambled to get off the seat and let the explosive boy through. After his classmate left and the bus started moving once again, he noticed that a good amount of people were looking at him, staring at him with accusing eyes as if he had done something.

He just ducked down and retreated back into his phone. Hopefully the rest of his day would be better.

Suji Gym was very different from the gym he went to with Momo. It was still large, being a quirk gym, but the outside looked fairly beat up, the alley to the side looked filthy, and upon walking in Izuku notices that the door was propped up by a brick and a fan was trying it's hardest to keep the reception area cool. While the difference was night and day Izuku didn't mind, in fact he felt more comfortable here.

His eyes fell on the reception desk, manned by a hulking figure. The man was middle-aged, with a shaved head and arms like tree trunks, his biceps bulging to the point they looked larger than Izuku's torso. The name plaque on the desk said his name was Iwao Gekido.

"Hello, I'm Izuku Midoriya." The green-haired boy greeted politely. "I called earlier this week about making a reservation today?"

Iwao barely lifted his gaze from the magazine in his hands, his expression one of complete indifference as he sized Izuku up with a single glance. "You're too young," he grunted dismissively, before returning his focus to the magazine, as if the conversation had ended.

With a tilt of his head Izuku stated, "I was unaware of an age policy." The man didn't respond right away. Instead, he let a few heavy seconds pass, scrutinizing Izuku with a hard stare before flipping the page of his magazine, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. "I'm sorry, but I have someone I'm meeting here today. Can I just pay for this visit and I'll find another gym for next time?"

Iwao exhaled sharply through his nose, finally tearing his eyes from the magazine. His face twisted into a scowl. "I ain't letting a couple of kids destroy my gym," he growled. "I run a business here, not a damn daycare. If you and your little friend want to play around and wreck the place, do it at the beach."

Izuku straightened his posture, feeling the weight of the man's harsh words settle on him like a challenge. Jirou had been pushing him to act more confident lately, but in moments like these, he worried it came off as forced. Still, he squared his shoulders and met Iwao's glare with as much calm as he could muster. "I'll clean up after myself," he stated firmly.

"I don't want to see anything out of place when the timer rings. Otherwise, I'm doubling the price." The man finally conceded, clearly just wanting this conversation to end.

The tension in the air released, Izuku relaxed and dug out the money from his wallet. "I understand sir. I promise we will be responsible."

Just as the man handed him the key to a room, Kirishima burst through the door panting heavily. "Sorry I'm late," he said between breaths. "Bus broke down and I had run here." As soon as the black-haired teen caught his breath, he stood up straight and flashed a sharp smile, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

Izuku couldn't help but smile back, something about the boy's aura exuded kindness. "It's no problem at all, I just got here myself." He gestured to the hall, "Shall we get started?"

The two walked down the hall, passing by several private rooms being used. They couldn't see inside but they could clearly hear people working hard in developing their quirks, one room had a sound that sounded like a dozen of flapping wings, while another they heard a constant banging noise as if someone was bashing metal against metal.

Finally, they reached their assigned room but just as Izuku was about to swipe the keycard he remembered something important. "I'm sorry," He said as he turned to face the boy, "But would it be alright if I got a quick picture of you? It's for my mom, safety precaution you know?" He finished with a nervous chuckle, but it was a lot easier to ask this of a boy than a pretty girl.

Kirishima for his part didn't even hesitate, instead he just instantly got into a flexing pose ready to have a picture taken. "Make sure you get my good side!" He laughed as Izuku took the picture.

Izuku just couldn't place it, but there was something about this guy that made him feel at ease. Finally swiping the keycard, the door clicked open and a timer instantly started counting down. "Well, time to get to work."

At first Izuku had Kirishima run through some basic exercises to get a baseline for his athletic ability. He watched closely as Kirishima moved through each exercise with determination etched into his face. It was clear that the boy was serious about improving, but there were noticeable areas of weakness. He wasn't particularly flexible, and while his stamina was above average, it wasn't exceptional. What truly stood out, though, was Kirishima's strength. For someone only slightly bigger than Izuku, though admittedly far bulkier, he was able to lift an impressive amount of weight. Once he had the numbers all written down (in a much more organized spreadsheet this time) he asked Kirishima to sit on the bench and take a breather while they talked about his quirk.

"I know you sent me a brief summary online, but do you mind explaining it one more time? Just so I have everything fresh in my mind."

Kirishima sat up straight, eager to discuss it. "Of course. My quirk's called Hardening. It's not flashy or complicated, my body just increases its durability at will." To demonstrate, he flexed his arms and hardened them, the skin turning into a solid, rocklike substance. "The problem is," he continued, the confidence in his voice wavering slightly, "I can't seem to find a proper way to train it. I've hit a wall. I know I'm not getting any stronger, and honestly, I'm starting to worry that if I don't find a way over it, I'll fail the UA entrance exam."

Izuku looked up from his notebook. "How did you train until now?"

"Well, I used to just pound on a punching back until I couldn't keep my hands hardened anymore. After I started punching through the bag, I moved on to punching a wall." He laughed sheepishly, "Got into pretty big trouble after that one. But I found this abandoned building that no one seems to mind me wrecking. After that I realized my hands were way harder than the rest of me, so I started hitting myself with a baseball bat. That worked but now I can't seem to increase how hard I get at all."

Izuku took notes on everything that was said before speaking himself. "I believe this wall your hitting has s simple answer." He saw the boy perk up at that, "Your quirk is probably responding to the level of pressure you apply when you train. From what you've described, you've reached the limit of what you can achieve by yourself. Your body is no longer being challenged by the same old methods." He gestured toward the specialized equipment scattered throughout the room. "That's why quirk gyms like this one have become so popular. They've got specialized machines designed to push quirks in ways regular equipment can't. For example," Izuku walked over to a deceptively simple machine, a tall metal pole angled slightly with a digital screen in the center, "this machine is designed to swing this pole with varying levels of force. Most people use it to keep the pole steady without getting pushed back, but you could use it like a machine-driven baseball bat to hit yourself with precise, controlled force."

Kirishima's eyes followed Izuku, his jaw dropping slightly in amazement.

"And over here," Izuku continued, moving quickly across the room to another machine, this one appearing as a sealed glass cylinder, "is a device that slowly increases pressure using condensed air. It's designed to push your body to its absolute limits without causing unnecessary damage. You could use this to train your entire body instead of just your hands."

Kirishima's eyes were wide with wonder as he spoke, "I never knew these types of machines existed. I never even thought to look it up." He put his face into his hands, slightly ashamed at his own stupidity. "How much time have I wasted?"

Izuku quickly sat beside him, his expression softening. "Don't beat yourself up over it," he said gently. "You've been doing your best with what you had. It's not about how much time you've lost, it's about what you do with the time you have now."

Kirishima lowered his hands and looked at Izuku, a small but grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That was so manly, I really needed to hear that."

Izuku smiled back, feeling a swell of warmth in his chest. "No problem. Let's get started, and we'll make sure you're ready for the entrance exam."

Kirishima nodded, his resolve renewed. The worry and self-doubt that had been eating at him seemed to fade, replaced by the fire of determination. He wasn't just going to train harder—he was going to train smarter.

Together, the two teens spent the next hour experimenting with the various machines scattered around the gym. Izuku observed Kirishima closely as he tested the limits of his Hardening quirk, guiding him on the proper use of each machine and making adjustments to ensure they pushed his limits without risking injury. After a particularly tough round with pully system like device, Kirishima wiped the sweat from his brow, grinning through the exhaustion. "Man, this is a whole new way of training! I feel like I'm really starting to get somewhere."

Izuku smiled back, pleased with the progress they'd made. A quick glance at the timer on the wall showed they only had fifteen minutes left. Izuku decided it was time to wrap things up and give Kirishima his final thoughts. He closed his notebook and took a deep breath before speaking. "Overall, I think you have an amazing grasp on your quirk already," he began, his voice steady and encouraging. "Your problem isn't with your quirk, it's with how you're training. You've been trying to work alone, and that's holding you back."

Kirishima listened intently, his focus completely on Izuku now.

"You can't truly train by hitting yourself," Izuku continued. "No matter how strong your quirk is, there's always going to be a part of your mind that tells you to hold back—whether it's fear of pain or injury, or just an instinctive act of self-care. Even if you know you can handle the impact, your brain won't let you go all out on yourself. That's why you need an external force; a machine or, better yet, someone you trust to push you further than you could go on your own. That's the key to breaking through the wall you've hit." Izuku looked up from his notes, giving him a small, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I don't have more advice to give beyond that."

"Are you kidding me?" Kirishima exclaimed, his voice bursting with gratitude. Before Izuku could react, the boy pulled him into a bear hug that nearly squeezed the air out of him. "You just saved my chances of getting into UA! I can't thank you enough!"

Izuku, caught off guard by the sudden hug, awkwardly patted Kirishima on the back, trying to catch his breath as Kirishima released him. "Uh, you're welcome!" he managed to say, his cheeks flushing slightly from the intensity of the gratitude.

Kirishima's eyes suddenly widened, as if he'd remembered something important. "Oh, right!" he said hastily, fumbling for his wallet. "I almost forgot, sorry, man." He quickly extracted a wad of bills, handing it over to Izuku with a sheepish grin. "Here's your payment, as promised. You sure this is enough?"

Izuku nervously accepted the money, unsure if he will ever get used to taking payments from people. "Trust me, it's more than enough." With that settled he looked back at the clock. Five minutes remaining. "You should probably head out," he suggested. "I'll stay behind and clean up a bit before I leave."

Kirishima looked around the room, noticing the light mess they'd made with some of the equipment and the sweat lingering on the floor. "You sure? I can help with the cleanup, no problem," he offered, clearly not wanting to leave Izuku with all the work.

But Izuku waved him off with a smile. "No worries. I've got it covered. Besides, you've already done a lot today. You need to get home and rest up. Recovery is just as important as training."

Kirishima chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks again, Izuku. I'll let you know how things go."

With a final wave, Kirishima made his way to the door, his steps lighter than they had been when he first walked in. He turned back one last time before stepping out. "Seriously, man, you've helped me out so much. I'm gonna work even harder now."

"I know you will," Izuku replied, smiling warmly. "Good luck, Kirishima. I'm rooting for you."

The door clicked shut behind Kirishima, leaving Izuku alone in the room. He glanced around at the equipment they'd used, the satisfaction of a job well done settling over him. He couldn't help but feel proud not just for the work they'd done, but for the progress Kirishima had made. He knew UA's entrance exam was tough, but if anyone had the determination to push through, it was him.

The door creaked open, and the man from earlier, Iwao Gekido, stepped in without so much as a knock. His heavy footsteps echoed in the quiet room as he silently looked around, inspecting the machines and weight racks with a critical eye. His large arms crossed over his chest, he grumbled under his breath, though his words were clear enough. "Honestly, it's cleaner than before the two of you used it," he muttered. There was a gruffness to his tone, but also a hint of surprise. "Did you kids even use it, or did you just pay a fee to clean? This some weird internet trend?" he asked, his confusion apparent as he glanced back at Izuku.

Izuku straightened up from where he'd been wiping down one of the machines, offering a polite smile despite the man's brusque tone. "We used it, sir. The strength and durability testers were really helpful today."

Iwao continued to look around, his gaze lingering on the spotless surfaces as Izuku finished the last of the cleanup. "That shark-toothed brat didn't stay to help you out?" he asked with a grunt, his voice tinged with mild irritation.

"I told him to leave," Izuku explained, keeping his tone respectful despite his growing discomfort. He didn't like the way Iwao referred to Kirishima. They had only met today, but Izuku could already tell Kirishima was far too kind-hearted to deserve offhanded insults. "It was a small enough mess that I could handle it myself."

The man makes another circle, "Why you even here kid, you look like a stiff breeze would blow you down, a regular gym would be a better choice over a quirk gym."

Izuku flinched, but he reminded himself that this man had no reason to expect he was quirkless. "It's not for me sir, I help out others figure out and better their quirks. Give them guidance, or at least I try to."

Iwao raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his otherwise stoic face. "A consultant?" he asked, the word coming out with a hint of skepticism.

"Yeah," Izuku perked up upon hearing the correct name, "Do many of them use this gym? I would love to ask for some advice."

At that question, Iwao's expression shifted almost instantly. His face darkened, and his jaw clenched as visible anger bubbled to the surface. "Yeah, right," he growled, his voice dripping with bitterness. "This gym ain't worth the dirt on those jackasses' boots. If they even wore boots, the pretentious silver spooners, sitting high in their ivory towers..." His voice grew louder as his frustration flared, and Izuku instinctively took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest.

Realizing that his outburst had startled Izuku, Iwao took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He rubbed a hand over his shaved head and muttered something under his breath before speaking again, this time in a quieter, more controlled voice. "No consultants come down here, kid," he said, his tone resigned. "People old enough for this gym ain't got the funds for those parasites and have to train each other. It's worked out for the ones who want to be boxers, but it's been a disaster for the others who need help figuring out their quirks." He shook his head, his voice dropping to a barely audible murmur as he added, "Still need to order that sound machine..."

"I didn't know that," Izuku admitted quietly. "I mean, I knew consultants made a lot of money, but I always assumed-"

"What?" Iwao interrupted, his voice gruff but not angry this time. "That they'd do some charity work?"

Izuku shook his head, choosing his words carefully. "That everyone started somewhere," he said, his tone soft but earnest.

Iwao gave Izuku a long, hard look, as if weighing his words carefully. After a moment, he exhaled sharply and rubbed his temples. "So, you're trying to be a consultant?" he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism once again. "Why ain't you haggling with those spoiled brats at Narushisuto or Tokken?"

Izuku hesitated, feeling a bit nervous under Iwao's scrutiny. "I just wanted to get some experience," he explained. "It's a reputation-built field, so I figured I needed to start somewhere. And... well, I saw the prices people charged, so I thought maybe I could be the cheap guy. I mean, I'm just a kid, and I have no real experience, so I try to make that as clear as possible, and muttermuttermutter-"

"Alright kid shut up!" Izuku clamps his hands over his mouth. Why can't he get over that habit after all these years? The man lets out a big sigh and tries to remain calm, reminding himself he is dealing with a child and not a cocky adult. "Listen kid, you seem like you have good intentions, and from the cleaning you were doing you seem to be more responsible than most of the brats your age. So, here's what I'm going to do. You can keep coming back here for your little sessions, and I won't even charge you for the time. I'll keep this time's payment as a deposit of sorts in case something breaks. All I ask in return is you help those who need it, and you give me at minimum a four-day notice so I can clear a block for you."

Izuku felt a rush of excitement flood his chest. His heart leaped at the offer, and he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing on his feet in his eagerness. He bowed deeply, his words tumbling out in a stream of gratitude. "I promise I won't let you down!"

Iwao waved a hand dismissively, clearly trying to maintain his gruff exterior despite the small smile now playing on his lips. "Alright, alright, enough with the thanks," he grumbled. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

Izuku straightened up, still grinning from ear to ear. With a final bow, he quickly gathered his things and made his way to the door. As he stepped outside into the cool evening air, his heart still racing with excitement, today really was a great day.

Tick, tick, tick…

That damn clock was going to be the end of him he swore. Katsuki sat on the couch, rapidly tapping his foot while waiting for the hour to go by. All because the old hag wanted him go to fucking therapy. Worried about PTSD was her excuse, but he was fine damn it. So what if he blew up at school the next day, it was their own fault for not leaving him the hell alone! A person can only be reminded they almost suffocated to death so many times before someone gets clocked in the jaw!

Tick, tick, tick…

"Don't you have anything to say?" He asked the old man sitting in front of him.

"Only if you do." The man said stubbornly.

Katsuki guessed the man, Shiatsu, wasn't that bad. The old hag definitely could have gotten a worse therapist. The man didn't bother him with incessant questions every five seconds. In fact, he spends more time building that ship in a bottle than he did paying attention to the blonde.

Tick, tick, tick…

The room was also more comfortable than he expected. No half bed half couch thing to lay on as the man hovered above you taking notes like on tv. It looked no different than your normal corner office. The only things that would be out of place were the furniture was more comfortable, and the bookshelf of shipped bottles. And that oversized grandfather clock in the back of the room.

Tick, tick, tick…

"I saw him today." Katsuki had to speak, if just to drown out that clock.

"Hmm?"

"Dek- Izuku. We were at the same bus stop."

"Did you speak to him?" Shiatsu asked while fiddling with a piece. It looked like he was having some trouble keeping it in the tweezers grasp.

"No. Not at first. I was tired."

That perked the therapist up. "Trouble sleeping?"

"Yea." It had been a while since he had a good night's rest. He always went to bed early, nothing had changed there, but lately he found himself just staring at the ceiling for hours on end before he managed to shut his eyes.

Shiatsu seemed to think for a moment before responding, finally wrangling in… whatever it was he was trying to grab. "While I am able to prescribe sleeping medication, I would first suggest some over the counter melatonin." He spoke clearly, as if this wasn't the first time someone had asked him for sleeping pills. "If that doesn't work, we will try some test runs on stronger medication."

"Yeah, sure." He just needed to sleep, he didn't care what it was that caused it.

Tick, tick, tick…

Shiatsu was silent once more. He never prodded Katsuki for extra information, perfectly content to just wait for him to speak. A blessing and a curse. After a few moments, Katsuki finally spoke up, his voice gruff and hesitant. "A couple of former friends arrived."

Shiatsu didn't look up from his ship, but his attention was clear. "Former?" he asked quietly.

Katsuki hesitated, his foot tapping erratically against the floor, trying to work out exactly how he felt about them. "I don't know if we're still friends." He shrugged, his shoulders tense. "Don't know if we ever were. Part of me doesn't care."

"And this distressed you?" Shiatsu asked, his voice calm as always, though there was a subtle shift in his posture, like he was trying to understand where this was going.

Katsuki snorted, shaking his head. "No. But then they started…" His words trailed off, his jaw tightening as his mind replayed the events. He couldn't help but hear the ticking of that damn clock again, growing louder and more irritating with every passing second.

Tick, tick, tick…

"They started fucking with him." His voice started rising, but he made an effort to keep his hands pop free. "I didn't know what to do. It wasn't the first time, far from it. Hell, I ain't innocent either. I've done my share of messing with him… more than my share." His voice dropped slightly, a rare moment of admission, but then his eyes hardened again. "But they took it too far. They were going to make it physical."

"And you didn't like this?"

"Of course I fucking didn't." Katsuki snapped, the very suggestion sparked a fire in him but he didn't understand why. His foot was tapping even faster now, and yet still he could hear the ticking of that damn clock.

"So, what did you do?"

"I told them to piss off!" The boy yelled.

"That's all?" Shiatsu prompted.

He was caught off guard slightly, still not used to every action he took being scrutinized and examined. "... No."

Tick, tick, tick…

"They tried to act like nothing was wrong. And then they brought up the damn slime bastard." The anger in his voice was palpable, his hands started to sizzle even with his efforts to keep them explosion free.

Shiatsu's gaze was steady, his hands pausing briefly over his work. "Did you attack them?" he asked, his voice still calm, but there was an edge to it now, a quiet expectation.

Tick, tick, tick…

"Technically no," Katsuki spat, glaring at the therapist. He could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter in his chest. The therapist's silence was suffocating, his calm gaze like a spotlight burning into him. Finally, Katsuki broke. "I was going to, but Izuku got between us."

Shiatsu's brow furrowed slightly in surprise. "Brave boy, getting in your way."

"Yeah. Sure." Katsuki muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm, but there was something else there.

"You resent him for that?" It was the first time Katsuki heard the man sound confused. It was a little relieving hearing him express a bit of emotion.

"No. Yes? I don't know. He's quirkless. He's weak. Fragile. He could get hurt so damn easily but he still puts himself in harm's way."

Tick, tick, tick…

"He wanted to be a hero for most of our lives. Can you believe that?" Katsuki let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Fucker practically had a death wish."

Shiatsu's eyes softened slightly, his gaze thoughtful. "So, you were worried about his safety?"

Katsuki stiffened, his eyes flashing with anger. "... Shut up," he growled, the words coming out more defensively than he intended.

Shiatsu said nothing, simply returning to his work, the silence filling the room once more. The only sound was the relentless ticking of the clock, each tick echoing louder and louder in Katsuki's ears.

Tick, tick, tick…

Why is it so loud?

Tick, tick, tick…

Fine, talk, just drown it out. "I tried to talk to him."

"And how did that go?"

"Fucker didn't even look up. Just kept staring at his damn phone like I didn't exist." His voice was rising with each word, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He was trying to stay calm, but the memory of it, sitting there, feeling like a ghost next to him, was making his blood boil all over again. "He didn't even give me the damn time of day! Like I wasn't worth a single glance!" He stood up, pacing to room in an attempt to burn the energy he could feel brewing up. Running his hands threw his hair, scratching at his arm, cracking his neck, he just needed to move.

The therapist paused his work on the ship, his hands still but his eyes steady on Bakugou. "How did that make you feel?"

Katsuki's lip curled, his eyes narrowing. He hated that question. Every time. But he knew the answer this time, and that only made it worse. "Pissed off. Like… like he thinks he's too good to talk to me now."

There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, though, beneath the anger. Something Katsuki wasn't ready to name. Shiatsu didn't push, just nodded thoughtfully. "Do you think he was intentionally ignoring you?"

Katsuki opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again. He didn't want to admit it, but there was a part of him that wondered if maybe it wasn't on purpose. "I don't know."

"Could it be possible that he was just... preoccupied with whatever was on his phone? Not trying to ignore you, but focused on something else?"

Katsuki scoffed, his jaw tightening, but the thought lingered. Could it have been that simple? Maybe. But that didn't make it any less infuriating. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't care."

Tick, tick, tick…

But he did care. That much was clear. The therapist could see it in the way Bakugou's eyes shifted when he said those words, the tension in his posture that hadn't eased up since he'd walked in.

Tick, tick, tick…

"GOD DAMN IT!" The boy finally exploded, a sudden fiery force releasing from his hands. "Do you keep that thing in here to drive people insane?!"

Shiatsu doesn't even flinch at the outburst. He merely looked towards the direction the angry teen is pointing and walks towards the old ticking grandfather clock, opening it's body and grasping the pendulum, effectively muting it until further notice. "It's understandable that you'd feel frustrated." He continues with the session, not letting the clock distract them from what is really bothering Katsuki. "But sometimes, when we assume someone is ignoring us, it might be more about how we feel about ourselves in that moment than about the other person's intentions."

Bakugou's gaze hardened, but there was no explosion of anger this time. He just sat there, stewing in the therapist's words. He hated how they made sense, how they poked at something deep inside him that he didn't want to acknowledge. "Whatever." He grumbled.

The therapist smiled slightly but didn't press further. He knew Katsuki needed time to process. He returned to his ship, only gesture towards the door as he walked. "Our time seems to be up for today. I know you prefer to be 'literally anywhere but here.'" He quoted Katsuki's first visit at him with some amusement. "Same time next week?"

Katsuki just made a grab for his bag, his expression unreadable as he made his way to the door. "Yeah. Whatever." He said over his shoulder.

Eijiro Kirishima: Awesome consultant! I hit a wall and this guy practically tore the wall down himself. So Manly!

Authors notes;

Honestly, I don't have too many pre UA chapter left in me. Maybe 4 or 5 before I start the entrance exam crunch? It's kinda hard to tell a character interaction story when all the characters are seperated.

Bakugo got a much bigger part of this than I first intended, but I felt I was onto something during that bus stop scene.

What music would bakugou listen to? I could see metal or jazz.

Guess who's never been to therapy? This guy. Do not take medical advice from me, physical or mental. But I will forever stand by melatonin. That shit puts you to sleep. Only problem is by they time I rrealize I need it it's past midnight and too late to take it.

As always, please leave a comment. They tell me what I did wrong, what I did right, and I just enjoy getting them.