The pristine walls of the infirmary enclosed around him. A sterile scent wafted into his nose, something that had grown sickening within the first hour of his stay.
Izuku has been confined there overnight. By now, the first lights began to peek through the distant horizon beyond the window.
To make matters worse, Momo was already long released, providing the old Recovery Girl as his only source of conversation. At least he wasn't particularly dehydrated for that and, despite the distinctly aged topics in her speech, U.A's resident nurse was exactly like every old lady he's imagined; kind, placating, and warm.
Overall, it was a fine time, made all the more bearable by the constant rush of mana that continued to refill his core.
'According to Recovery Girl, I should be released within the school day. I hope she's lying, though, when she says it'll be sometime during recess.' Izuku looked down through the window, gazing upon the stream of students steadily trickling past U.A.'s gates.
He could scarcely find the patience to wait until he's back among them.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a series of knocks, echoing softly from the door. Briefly, he wondered who it was. "Come in!"
The door clicked open, greeting Izuku with a surprising sight; Mitsuki and Masaru, Katsuki's parents, stood beyond the entrance. A trace of guilt seemed to linger in their eyes. The reason behind that, of course, felt crystal clear.
"Why are you two here?" Izuku asked, feigning surprise.
Masaru walked in with his head tucked low. "We wanted to talk about yesterday… about what our son did."
"That boy!" Mitsuki audibly clicked her tongue. "Hard to believe that he's so sloppy. How could he have accidentally done that?"
'Because it wasn't an accident,' Izuku almost found himself saying but he held back. "The heat of battle, I'd say. I, too, had trouble restraining myself." Not that he needed to do a smidge of that, considering the sheer ease with which Bakugo handled him.
Even now, that reality still rattled his heart.
Masaru nodded, gentle eyes regarding Izuku's form. He looked considerably better than yesterday but he knew some injuries remained visible. "Is there anything we could do to make you feel better?"
"Don't worry about an apology, though." Mitsuki snorted. "We've talked to the brat. Ordered him to apologize to you later."
The green-haired boy pursed his lips. He shook his head, murmuring, "It's fine. He doesn't need to do that."
"You sure?" One of her brows jumped up.
"Very. Let's just consider that the favor?"
The pair stared at him incredulously. Of course, Izuku knew what was going through their minds; the more he refused their help, after all, the more the Bakugo parents would feel guilty. That is how it often was, especially with the way he knew them to be. They utterly despised having debts.
But it wasn't some kind of ploy. He simply didn't see the need for an apology or a favor.
He lost, fair and square.
Nothing else to it.
The din of the bell screeched throughout the winding passages of U.A., accompanied by the soft rumble of students clamoring out their class in the hundreds. For the first time in far too long, Izuku joined in on the commotion, trudging out of the infirmary. To his right and left there walked Iida and Uraraka respectively. All three donned their school's iconic uniform.
"You really didn't have to accompany me."
"What are you talking about?" Ochako snorted, folding her arms under her chest. "You're not getting away from me, mister."
"Besides," the bespectacled boy looked around, "do you remember the way back to class? Or to the cafeteria, for that matter?"
"Ugh…" He scratched his cheek. It was the first time he ever went to U.A.'s infirmary, to be fair. "Well, no. Can't say I do." Iida nodded at his response.
"Exactly."
Their class was scarcely populated. More than likely, the others had gone to the cafeteria or another preferred spot within the far reaches of the school. All in good will, in truth. If the class was full, he feared the rising clamor would be too much for him.
"Midoriya-san! How are you?"
"You were so cool yesterday!"
"Well man, ya definitely would've beaten any of us other than Bakugo… or Todoroki."
To his right, Iida stepped up, words hanging by the edge of his lips. Before he could, however, Izuku swallowed his nervousness and gave a shaky smile.
"T-Thank you, all of you." He said. "And I wouldn't be so sure, Kaminari-san. Your Quirk is electricity, right? Water doesn't respond very well to that." Hearing that, the boy's eyes shone.
"Whoa, ya really think so?" He chuckled with a slight pinkness dusting his cheeks.
Beside him, Jiro gave a pat on his shoulder. "Only because you're a bad matchup for Midoriya here. Don't go around thinking ya can beat just about anyone, alright?"
He pouted but nevertheless nodded. "I know, I know."
It wasn't long before the small crowd dispersed. Kaminari, smiling and with the faint blush still residing on his face, went back to his seat. Jiro—for the briefest of moments—glanced at Izuku, her gaze unreadable, before she turned and followed her friend close.
With that out of the way, Izuku sighed in relief. He made a harder scan of the students that were inside.
"Where's Bakugo?" He whispered. He didn't even intend for it, but thinly veiled venom laced his voice.
"Probably the gymnasium with Kirishima-san again." Spoke Iida.
"Momo?"
"Already on a first name basis?" Questioned Uraraka, giving a slight smirk that made him blush.
"I-It's not like that. She told me I could use it."
"So there's a chance your feelings are reciprocated, eh?" The girl continued, unrelenting.
Fortunately, before Izuku could turn into a full-blown tomato —it's been ages since that happened— Iida let out an amused yet exasperated sigh. "That's enough teasing now, Ochako."
"No fun." She rolled her eyes. "But to answer your question, I have nothing." She said with a simple shrugged. Likewise, Iida shook his head; the prospects were about the same with him. They had left as soon as the bell rang to go and see Izuku, of course, so he may as well have asked a wall if he desired a useful answer from them.
A voice, squeaky small, suddenly filled his ears.
"She's in the gymnasium, as well." Turning, they saw that it had come from a disembodied voice… Toru. "Left almost as soon as Bakugo did."
"I see… well, thanks, Toru."
"It's my pleasure."
Silence once again reigned between them. Now that he thought about it, the girl had grown more reserved recently. A little bit like how she had been when they first met.
Shaking away those thoughts, he turned smilingly to his friends —making sure to do so longer when it came to the floating set of clothes that is Toru— Izuku invited them to the cafeteria. That wasn't all, though. Not today.
"We'll still have a lot of time, of course, so how about we go to Gamma right after we eat?"
Izuku never liked the idea of going there. He's tried once, but as he quickly grasped, the place was basically bursting at the seams with other students, most of which were seemingly far older than he was.
But now, there was a newfound reason for him to return.
"Is it because of Momo?"
"Ye– W-Wait, no!" He slapped himself at the face. "I mean, yeah, but not for the reason you're thinking of. Her Quirk is extremely versatile… so I was thinking of roping her in alongside us. Our training would be all the more efficient, no? I get to experiment more with my water manipulation, you get to train your gravity Quirk with a whole slew of items, —ah, perhaps many small things at once?— Iida could go and find ways to improve the exhausts on his legs —though his family probably already thought of that— but still, you could do varied training, Hagakure, well, invisibility works by refracting light so she could try out different some new techniques based off that, and then if we—"
"That's… enough." Uraraka smiled gingerly. "I think I heard you saying my name there? Squished between those mountains? What did you say again?"
"Just a few methods for us to strengthen our Quirks." Iida said. His eyes flickered back to Izuku. "And yes, that's been a common method in my family."
Izuku felt a nudge by his side. Even before turning, he already felt Toru's gaze. "Thanks for the advice, Izuku. I'll see if I could try that out." After a brief silence, her voice turned anxious, unsure. "Um… you don't usually go on rants about Quirks, right? I mean I could be wrong but…"
"It's fine." He replied softly. "And yes, I don't usually do that."
'Almost a year now since I bothered myself with Quirks. Just the ramblings of a… hopeful child.' Once again, he thought of Frieren. 'Her and magic are basically all I think about these days. At least, when I'm not worrying about mom.'
Somewhere far from civilization, Frieren sneezed suddenly. 'Is someone thinking of me?'
Shaking away those thoughts, she looked down to the brownies splayed on her plate. A small chunk was missing. Beside it were dozens of papers, stained yellow by age, filled with drawings and a language only she knew.
After eating, the four made their way to Gym Gamma.
It was an impressive sight, much like everything else within U.A. It stood tall —easily half a dozen stories— on its pure white walls which ended in an arched roof. The sides were framed with countless blue windows.
And, of course, it was currently doused by a heavy carpet of rain.
The three of them stood on the precipice of the drumming rain, their forms shielded by a rather vast cornice jutting out of the walls. Hagakure followed the three, but as it is, she hesitated in what —if there was anything— to say.
Up ahead, they could see students wandering the field between the main building of U.A and Gym Gamma, each holding up U.A-issued umbrellas or their own personal brands. Unfortunately, that was all the umbrellas present; you had to wait for another student to return if you wanted to use one.
And by the looks of the many students crowding around, waiting for their turns, that chance wasn't arriving anytime soon.
You could dare the torrent, of course, but it was hardly an appealing thought. Who would want to besmirch the uniform of U.A, of all places?
"Perhaps we shouldn't have gone to the cafeteria first…" Uraraka mumbled. "Maybe then we could've gotten an umbrella first."
"Yeah." Toru agreed.
"Not just that. It's also because you guys had to wait for me from the infirmary…" He gave a sigh. "I'm—"
"No." Iida interrupted with a firm shake of his head. "That was our decision. Not your fault." Beside him, the brown-haired girl eagerly nodded.
"Thanks." Izuku replied, his eyes soft. Out of the blue, the corner of his lips twisted. "But I want to apologize. How about I use my Quirk to shield us?"
Neither of them immediately protested. They looked at each other, then at him, and Uraraka asked, "You're allowed to?"
"If you're not, then I must refuse." Iida firmly added.
"Me too." Toru finished.
"Well… only in Gym Gamma, I think. Should still be fine though, right?" Neither of them looked convinced. He tilted his head, searching the crowd. It wasn't long before he could see Ectoplasm. "How about we just ask a teacher?"
Walking closer, they greeted the teacher. It wasn't their first time seeing him again since the Entrance Exams, of course; he was their maths teacher. That alone made someone recognizable, if only for how much people seem to hate that subject. They liked Ectoplasm as a teacher, however.
Surprisingly, Ectoplasm allowed them, albeit he did say it was a special case; it's better not to waste your time.
And so, Izuku helped his friends across by holding up a rather thick sheet of water overhead. The rain dripped into the makeshift umbrella, causing the surface to ripple but remain unpenetrated.
'A shame I still can't keep up with the sheer number of raindrops. I've gotten quicker but still not enough.' He thought, recalling the Villainess he almost died to back in the mall invasion. When they reached the other side, the water dispersed like a fountain, creating a sparkle as they caught the nearby lights.
They didn't immediately reach the training area. Going through the door, they entered a hallway that branched into two paths, each marked by large signs of a blue man or a pink woman. Both donned colorful Hero costumes. Nestled in between was a huge steel double-door, presumably leading towards the actual gym. After changing into their gym attire, that was the door they went through.
When they walked inside, the first they were greeted by was a series of explosions, ringing through the confined space. It seemed to be coming from beyond a tall, concrete wall; it trembled from time to time. They greeted Cementoss with a polite nod —he stood on a platform a distance away, floating high to give him a good vantage of the whole place— and made their way further in. There were perhaps dozens of students from various years training.
Right after, Izuku noticed a familiar mop of black, cascading in a whip strewn down her slim back. Surrounding the figure were matryoshka dolls, lined up neatly against the wall, and an assortment of random items attributed by different sizes and shapes. Even with her back to them, there was little need to wonder who it was.
Momo was standing in front of a barrel though they couldn't see what was inside. Her gym shirt was unzipped, revealing a black sports bra, while the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Her hand was encased in a black glove. Dipping it in, she took it out soon after. It partly glistened for a moment before the luster faded.
"Yaoyorozu!" Ochako called out, all cheerful.
The raven-haired girl jolted in surprise. Snapping to Ochako, she blinked. "Uraraka-san?"
Then her gaze drifted to the others, but punctuated with her eyes widening, they lingered on Izuku a great deal longer than the others. Those dark pools wavered briefly. Her arm quickly darted to the side, followed by a colorful sparkle as she threw a blanket over the top. With a hurried step, she walked towards them.
"Izuku." She greeted with a firm nod before she did the same for the others. She didn't bother asking what they were here for; it seemed quite obvious.
"Can we train with you, Momo?" Izuku stepped forward.
"All of you?"
"Yeah." Uraraka nodded, softly pouting as she playfully glared at Iida. "Still a bit pissed about my loss…"
"I-I apologize!" When the girl offered nothing more, he simply fidgeted, not knowing what else to do.
"Me too." Despite her quiet voice, Hagakure seemed firm.
The girl nodded. "Very well. Practice partners would be useful. Just…" she glanced at the cloth-covered barrel, "let me remove some of these."
Training was good.
The sweat, pouring down the narrow paths of his muscles; the satisfying aches that linger even after you've finished; the simple act of swinging around his staff, sending jets of water, it all made him feel like he was *something*. He didn't know exactly what.
But it felt good.
Yet even then… even with all that, seeing Bakugo's arrogant smirk—as if taunting the fact that Izuku failed to prove himself superior to him—rattled at his heart. It made all the hard-earned satisfaction morph into frustration.
A boastful chime shook him out of his thoughts.
Suddenly, he once again noticed that he was holding a sizzling pan, the scrambled eggs on it already reduced to a rough char by the edges. Cursing as he yelled out, "Coming!", he dropped the sad excuse of an egg on his plate and practically ran towards the door. Opening it to the sound of rain and the sight of his mother, Izuku smiled.
"Welcome, mom! I made you dinner."
She smiled gently. It was a sight he would kill for. "Thank you, Izuku." She imparted a kiss on his forehead.
Flushing happily, he helped her drop her bag and raincoat, before closing the door behind her, dulling the constant hubbub outside. They went to the dining room… where she immediately noticed the monstrosity within.
His cheeks flushed again—this time, out of embarrassment—when she giggled. "What's this supposed to be, Izuku?"
"A mistake." He said gloomily before he pointed to another plate. By contrast, it almost looked like a perfect son. "A magnum opus. This one's yours."
"Are you sure? I'm fine if you want to switch."
Izuku puffed out his chest. "'A man has to face his mistake head on'. That's what dad would've said."
Her lips curled into a smile. Giggling, she nodded before she sat down in front of the plate that held her son's masterpiece. It was just a normal scrambled egg, to be sure —sprinkled with a light dusting of seasoning and accompanied by some rice— it was hardly a rich man's delicacy.
But it was made by her son, so she greedily ate it.
"How was school?" She asked casually with a pleasant swallow.
He was starting to take his second bite of his own plate —it took much effort just to not grimace— when she gave her question. Izuku tilted his head, thoughtful.
'It went awfully,' he almost said, his mind flickering back to Bakugo.
'It was boring,' he almost remarked, thinking of the long, droll class that took place after their break. A shame that it was 1-B's turn to have Foundational Heroics today.
In the end, though, there was only one truth.
"It's great." He smiled. "Everything I ever wanted." There were unpleasant experiences here and there, of course, but he'd much rather have that a million times over than the meaningless life he led back at Aldera.
Inko flashed a smile that didn't reach her eyes, lasting for barely an instant before they widened to their fullest. She shook away the guilt that had plagued her.
A small part of her —a stray thought really— wanted to hear him say that he hated his days at U.A, that he would like nothing more than to leave. At least then she would have had an excuse.
But no. Being your happiest self often meant pursuing your harshest path, Frieren had said, and Inko couldn't help but agree with her.
After all, if she truly sought the safest option, she wouldn't have ever chosen to be with a reckless man like her late husband. Yet she did and, despite all the pain his death brought, she would never replace him with anyone else.
Indeed, this was the right choice, she thought.
CRACK!
"Mom?"
Looking down, Inko noticed that the wooden chopsticks in her grip had splintered in a mess of remains. The fragments populated her plate, marring Izuku's dish.
"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me..." She shook her head.
"It's fine. But I don't think you should eat that anymore, mom." He offered his hand. "Here, I'll clean it up. I'll make you a new one as well."
"No," she shook her head, "it's alright. I can make my own."
Inko stared down sourly at the plate. "I'm so sorry, Izuku… the food you made…" Izuku just waved off her words, saying that it was fine. He seemed more worried for her than anything else.
"Do you want me to help out? You know, cooking? I've gotten way better."
"I wouldn't say that to charcoal, Izuku." She joked, laughing lightly at his flushed expression. Her mirth dimmed to a soft smile. "I'm kidding. You've gotten better, there's no denying that… but I just want to cook. Get my mind off things."
Izuku nodded but the disappointment was clearly drawn across his face. Continuing to chuckle at that, she drifted towards the kitchen. It was a space with a chunk of the wall cut out, which directly yawned towards the dining table, so it didn't truly provide her the seclusion she desired; at least until Izuku stood up and left for his room.
The air was stifled by the sudden loudness of silence. She freed a breath that she didn't even realize she had been holding captive.
She was fine with Izuku going to U.A.
Though her nights were filled with restless dreams, wondering if there would ever be a night where she came home to a mute space, she could handle that. She could handle anything.
As long as Izuku was happy… and safe.
Frieren stood amidst a mass of huddled forms stained black with soot and dust. Donning an attire and hair that was a spotless white, she was the object of much unwarranted attention.
Not that she truly cared.
Besides, she wasn't the only thing that stood out in these glum slums. In front of her loomed a building that was painted vibrant pink; due to the sheer incongruity between the structure and its surroundings, it almost seemed to give off an eye-scrunching sheen. Just beyond the glass walls were rows of cakes and sweets splayed to form high mountains, their presence roaring with allure towards the many gaunt figures out on the street.
Weeks ago, when she first came to this street, she would have gazed upon the sweets with plenty desire.
Now, all she felt was wary curiosity.
Perched along the sizeable cornice was a set of words, dusted with gleaming gold; an odd sight in a place so barren of luxury. The words —fairly on the nose— read: Super Sweet Store and Everything Else.