CHAPTER 8 HAS BEEN REWRITTEN

-\ XXX /-

Denki winced as Ashido's head whacked against the lunch table. A split second of worry wormed in his gut before a long, dramatic groan escaped her throat. A look around the cafeteria made it clear she wasn't the only victim. It wasn't just the flunkies or casual students weighed down by the exhaustion and panic and frustration and… well, you get it. It was everybody, even the smartest girl in their class seemed tapped out.

Jirou muttered as she set her tray down, "Yep, she's dead."

"Who?" asked Denki as his attention refocused.

Jirou yawned in her hand as a finger nudged one of Ashido's horns.

"I'm just happy we don't have to deal with a practical exam," sighed Shinso as he sat.

Jirou whirled one of her jacks around her finger, "Yep, now we only have to kick the crap out of each other for our classmates' entertainment."

"Don't forget the humiliation of losing on a screen – that can be recorded and shared," added Shinso with a tired smirk.

"Yay~!" was cried ,neutrally, while they clinked their drinks together.

Again, a long, dramatic groan roared from Ashido with more build-up and a trailing

"Life of the party, you lot," joked Denki.

"Speaking of 'life of the party'," whether Jirou said that in utter sarcasm or simple indifference was unknown to Denki, "Where's Midoriya?"

"Huh? How am I supposed to know?"

Jirou pointed with her chopsticks, "Aren't you besties joined by the hip or something?"

"No." Denki shook his head, "And we're not besties."

Shinso blinked, "Really?" He tilted his head, "With the way you talked about the guy, I thought you knew him well."

"Eh? What're you, a stalker?" questioned Jirou in obvious disgust – the fact that it could be genuine was painful.

"Oi, oi, oi, let's cool it, yeah?" parlayed Denki. "Guy reminded me of you, dude."

Shinso's eyes widened, "Huh?"

Denki shrugged with a smirk of his own, "Lonely guy in the corner of a room, desperate need of friends."

"D-Desperate?" echoed Shinso.

Ashido turned her head, barely lifting her face, "Like Jirou?"

"Oi!" Jirou wiggled the girl's horn, causing her to squirm, while fighting a blush on her cheeks, "Go back to being dead."

"Ah! I'm being bullied!"

"Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean 'desperate'?"

Denki deepened his voice far past reasonable degree, "I'm Shinso Hitoshi, all of you are obstacles I must overcome. I have no intention of making friends."

"So edgy~," cooed Ashido.

"A-Ah…"

Jirou gasped dramatically, looking at her finger, "Oh, no, I think I got a cut."

"Cause it's so edgy~," clarified Ashido.

Shinso's head fell into his hands, "Oh my god, shut up…" He groaned, "It wasn't edgy. It was a declaration."

"I'm a loner," declared Ashido.

"I don't have friends," declared Jirou.

"I am a Dark-Flame Master~!" declared Denki with proper flourish.

"Shut up!" cried Shinso as his body winced and crumpled in his seat. "It was so… not… long ago…"

"How they grow up so fast…" said Denki, wiping away a 'tear'. "From loner to straight-man, no truer journey."

A voice coughed, pulling the group's attention to another, "H-Hey, I'm sorry." A guy their age with wood-like skin stood there, tray in hand, "I, uh, overheard you guys. You were wondering where Midoriya was?"

"Hm? Yeah, we were."

"He's back in the workshop," he offered.

Jirou raised a brow, "The Support Course Workshop? We just finished Midterms today."

"Yeah, a few people really wanted to hop on their joint-projects."

Ashido tilted her head, "What about you?"

As if on cue, a loud growl echoed from the tree-guy's abdomen. "A-Ah, w-well…" He blushed, maybe… it was hard to tell. "That's where he is," he cried as he rushed away, food nearly toppling in hand.

"Well, that answer's that question," said Jirou. She turned to Ashido, a tilted grin on her face, "Now, what was that about me?"

"Jirou went from loner to bully," said Ashido with a pout, turning away.

Jirou rolled her eyes, "Loner to tired, more like," which challenged a genuine smile.

Kaminari leaned forward, cocking a brow, "So, you know you're a loner."

"Thanks for pointing that out," sighed Jirou with a furrowing brow.

Just before one of her jacks flew across the table and stabbed Denki's ear, "AH!"

-XXX-

Izuku grunted as he tightened the valve, sealing the pressurized cartridge to the carbon tubing. This fed to a launcher-like device bolted to a metal table. A rope-line was wrapped around a reel which fed into a gun-like barrel. It was simple: a metal tube embedded in a cylinder of wood finished by a set of metal rings to hold it together. He pulled on the reel, turning the line taut. A metal hook was attached to its other end, slithering towards the device. It was a mix between the common grappling hook and a harpoon. Its metal glinted and its edges cut through the table's surface. It snapped into place before he stood.

Izuku then finally synced a wireless button to the device's activation key, taking a step behind the testing range's terminal. A wall of plexiglass rose between him and the launcher. He tapped at his phone, beginning a recording. "Testing Prototype Nine of Grappling Gear Device. Variation: Magnesium Alloy for Hook, Higher PSI on pressure release. Target: a brick."

"Firing in three… two… one…" The button clicked and the hook fired into the distance. Metal pierced the brick, cracking its form. "Accuracy is still good. Projectile speed comes to… estimation: sixty-eight meters per second." He set the button down, "Releasing pressure and retrieving hook…" Gas hissed, and metal scraped free from hardened clay. "Hook is damaged. Superficial scratches and… potentially fatal crack." His finger nudged the metal before a snap echoed throughout the range. "A fatal break," he sighed. "Hook's design may require readjusting…"

"Narrating your own tests, I see," called Mr. Abraham as he entered the range.

Izuku blinked, "M-Mr. Abraham, uh…" He stepped over to his phone, ending the recording, "Yeah…"

Mr. Abraham nodded, "Good to voice all those thoughts. You may have a million ideas throughout the creative process of success and failure. And any of those little thoughts may prove to be a diamond amongst coal."

"Uh, I guess. I… don't feel like I had any of those thoughts, though…"

"You may or may not, it is a process," he chuckled. "Lunch is reaching its end, you know."

"Uh, yeah, it is…"

"Are you not hungry?"

"I'm fine," said Izuku before a bellowing growl escaped from his abdomen.

Mr. Abraham chuckled, "I see, thought so." He raised his hand: a packaged sandwich, "I just happened to find something for you."

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, taking the mini-meal, "T-Thanks."

"Don't give it another thought," he waved off. He tucked his hands behind his back, "You are hungry, why not eat? It is Saturday, time for everyone to take in their favorite meal."

"I was focused on this…" said Izuku, gesturing to the device.

"That focus achieved much," complimented Mr. Abraham. "A grappling device?"

"Yes. You mentioned for the Joint-Assignment that we'd need to design things for ourselves as well. So, I thought of something that could help me move around."

"Sensible." Mr. Abraham then said, "I also see you're putting our CO2 cartridges to good use."

"I was also thinking of… maybe using the… War-Hammer?" posed Izuku.

"On your classmates?"

"Y-Yes…?"

Mr. Abraham looked at his student for a moment before breaking contact. After looking off for a moment, he nodded, "I will consider it. The Hero Course Quirks are formidable, after all."

"Thank you."

"I took a look at your outlines, very interesting," said Mr. Abraham. "A chemical polymer for Ms. Utsushimi's Quirk and a guidance system for Mr. Kaminari's."

"Yeah… Though, I'm not sure where to start…"

"Understanding their Quirks will always be the beginning," said Mr. Abraham. "Run tests and observe them without constraint, after receiving consent, of course."

Izuku nodded, taking nibbles at his sandwich, "Hm, right."

"Something on your mind, Mr. Midoriya?"

"N-No…"

Mr. Abraham tilted his head, "Perhaps, it's the news? Of that villain prowling the streets?"

"No, I haven't really been keeping up with that story," said Izuku.

"I see. That's understandable. It isn't a very… uplifting story."

"Why bring it up then…?" His eyes landed on his teacher, noticing the easygoing smile and relaxed features. Any sense of worry that trailed after Izuku seemed relieved. Though, subtle creases upon the man's forehead suggested their slow return. "You're causing trouble again…"

A pang of annoyance followed, "What trouble…?"

"They're worried about you…"

"Why…? I'm not… acting weird, am I…? I'm just… being quiet… Why does that mean I'm troubled…? Why does that mean there's a problem…?" He let out a mixture of a sigh and a grumble, "I've… always been like this…"

"Mr. Midoriya? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, really…" A smile drew across his face, "Wh-Why? Do I seem troubled?"

"The sigh was a bit obvious."

Izuku lowered his head, rubbing the back of his neck, "Right, of course…"

"Is it something you can't talk about-"

"There's nothing to talk about, really," he assured, smiling. "I'm just a bit tired, is all. And hungry."

"Well, missing lunch can have that effect," offered Mr. Abraham. "I'd recommend bringing your own lunch if you plan on making this a habit."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Mr. Abraham nodded, making his way to the range's exit before pausing, "If there's anything, ever, to talk about, my ear is always ready."

"Thank you." A low rumbling emitted from his stomach after the door slid shut, "This isn't going to be enough…" he commented as he wolfed down the rest of his meal. "I'll grab something after school…" he thought as he pushed off the terminal, moving towards his work.

-XX-

Izuku walked away from the counter with a tray of fast food. He was in his Shiketsu uniform, foregoing the cap/hat. He slid into a booth, shifting towards the farthest end, and hugging the window. "People are noticing more… Or maybe they always noticed, but just never said anything…" He ate slowly, melding into his seat, "Or maybe there was no one to notice… Except him… He was the only who noticed – only one who cared…" His face contorted, "Well, cared is a strong term…" His feature relaxed, "Mom noticed too – never said anything…"

His gaze drifted, staring into the street, "Been too obvious… Let myself go too far… In a choir, a quiet voice is drowned out… In a quartet, well… that's just a bad performance…" He sighed, "My behavior may require readjusting…"

"BAH!" was cried through the class as a pink face and her set of hands smacked against the other side of the glass.

Izuku screeched, "AH!" scrambling and falling into the booth. While a blush burned onto his face, a bright laughter rang outside while a sympathizing face made himself clear. The group moved from their side of the class to within the restaurant, seemingly unabashed by the tracking gazes of the other patrons.

"S-Sorry, Midori, I-I couldn't help myself," stuttered out Ashido through wheezes and giggles.

"You okay?" offered Shinso.

Izuku slowly sat up, "I… I'm calming down…"

"That was a pretty manly scream back there," teased Jirou.

"Uh…" He said, "Was it? That's good…" He sat up, "Would hate for anyone to think… I'm unmanly or something…"

"Catching up on lunch?" offered Kaminari.

Izuku looked at his half-touched tray, "Yeah…" He blinked for a moment before coughing, "Want to… uh… join?"

Kaminari stared for a moment before his expression brightened, smiling, "Yeah, nice to not have to look for a table."

"I'll keep the seats warm," offered Izuku.

Ashido said, "How?"

"Uh…" He slowly turned his back to them before laying down in the booth.

Shinso chuckled, "Whoa, Midoriya, down boy."

Izuku blinked, "Huh?" Shinso coughed, gesturing to Ashido and Jirou. Izuku's gaze shifted to the side, and his eyes widened when he caught the hems of skirts. "AH!" he cried, throwing himself forward and sitting up. "Your seats will be cold!"

"Heh, I'm sure we won't mind," said Jirou.

"What!?" cried Kaminari. "You're not gonna stab him?" The outrage was palatable, "Pump him full of sound?"

"Pump me full of – huh?" echoed Izuku.

Jirou's jacks hovered, "Shut. Up."

"Oh, wow…" Izuku blinked, "Can you get music through those?"

"Huh? Y-Yeah…"

Izuku smiled, "That's pretty cool."

"Uh, thanks," she responded.

Izuku nodded in turn before he looked amongst them, "Are you guys… uh… gonna get your food?"

Jirou blinked, "Oh, right, yeah."

The group began to move as Kaminari suggested, "Shinso's paying, right?"

"You literally have a job. Pay for yourself, at least," said the bank.

Ashido clapped her hands together, "Aw, you're paying for us, Shinso?"

Izuku watched as they walked into the store. Once he was sure their eyes were focused on the menu above, he relaxed into his seat. His brightened eyes, curved brows, and smile fell flat. "I wonder if her cartilage forms in a similar manner to copper wiring… Maybe that's shared throughout her body as well… It also might mean her Quirk has less to do with sound and more to do with something like a precise control of her own bio-electricity… Emission crossed with Mutation…"

"Holy shit… Midoriya Izuku," said a vaguely familiar voice.

"No way…" was muttered.

Izuku froze for a moment before slowly shifting towards the sources.

"Little old Muttering Midoriya! Bakugo's punching bag!" recalled… Makoto? He was tall, mostly due to his own anatomy: his legs being human-sized ram legs – hooves and all. Despite being fifteen, he had a goatee and a large mane of hair. He also had two curving horns rooted in the sides of his head. He wore a school uniform that Izuku couldn't recognize.

"I think you're right," concurred… Izaya? He was average overall in height and build. The nature of his Quirk wasn't obvious unless you knew it, hidden underneath his sleeves and pant-legs. Springs were held in his forearms and calves. Whatever you could imagine a spring doing – maybe he could do it, too.

Makoto's face contorted, "What're you wearing? Is that…" His grin faltered; something changed in his eyes, "Is that a Shiketsu uniform…?"

"Shiketsu? Seriously?" echoed Izaya.

Makoto spat, "You? You. Wow… Muttering Midoriya's moving up in the world, huh?"

"Got anything to say… buddy…?"

After turning in his seat, "Hey… Makoto, Izaya…", he bowed his head to both of them

"I'm Izaya," clarified 'Makoto.'

"I'm Makoto."

"Shit…"

Izaya gritted his teeth, "Can't even remember us, huh?"

"How big for your own fucking boots," said Makoto.

Izuku shook his head, "S-Sorry, it's been so long since-"

"So, we're just forgettable, huh?"

"I didn't say-"

Izaya reached into the booth, grabbing Izuku by his collar and dragging him out, "You don't have to say shit!" He growled, "A damn Quirkless like you end up at Shiketsu? Didn't realize the place was a fucking charity."

"P-Please calm down…"

Izaya said, "You know… it's obvious that Bakugo didn't do a good enough job with you. All those beatdowns, but you're still aiming high." "What gives you the right?" He laughed, "My parents could actually afford Shiketsu, but we still couldn't get in." He scowled, "What did your mom do? Fuck the principal?!"

The vile that slipped from the bastard's tongue was numbing like a nightshade. There was something like a wave of calm washing over him before a fire flooded his veins. Blood pumped into his ears, drowning out that distant voice: calling. Whose was it – Shinso, Kaminari? "It doesn't matter…" thought Izuku as he let go of Izaya's arms.

His hands clasped together over his head before slamming down upon where bicep met forearm. The hold crumbled, freeing Izuku just enough. As his soles found footing upon Izaya's hips – letting him raise himself just a bit higher, his hands found root upon the bastard's horns. What did that video game say? It wasn't that easy – don't aim for the jaw or forehead… "GIVE ME YOUR NOSE, YOU MOTHERFUCKER…!" Izuku's browbone bashed into the bridge of Izaya's nose. A crack – something prodded against his skull as red flooded from nostrils. Rearing his head back again, browbone met browbone. Izaya was toppling, aiming became harder in free-fall. Izuku threw back his fist before sending into Izaya's temple as they hit the ground.

What sound does a spring make? Twang? Though, it wasn't as if Izuku had the time to hear it. Makoto's foot rammed against his ear; it was impossible with the ringing. A flash of white and darkness eclipsed his vision as the force sent him spiraling and bouncing across the tile floor. A set of arms wrapped around him before his crash became a slide, slipping through slate-colored muck. They changed directions, moving where the muck formed and killing their momentum.

When the ringing subsided, for just a moment, there was a war cry. Kaminari tackled Makoto. Shinso took a punch from the recovering Izaya. Glass shattered as two spilled onto the street outside while Izaya froze where he stood. Izuku refocused as Jirou's face came into view. She said something, muffled.

"Are you okay?", maybe?

His head pulsed, a feeling of bile in his stomach rose, his body ached, and his eyelids were so heavy. He wobbled, trying to stay… awake… But it hurt… Closing his eyes felt good like he was… falling… asleep…

-XXX-

"Is he going to be okay?" asked Denki.

The paramedic finished the bandage on the blond's cheek, "Yes." She noticed an officer wave her over, "You two stay here."

Denki leaned against the back of the ambulance, "How are you holding up, dude?"

"Ow," muttered Shinso, picking at the bandage on his nose. He sat on the step just above the ride's bumper.

"That about sums it up."

Jirou and Ashido left an officer's company, exchanging it for theirs. "How is he?" asked Jirou.

"Sleepin'," said Denki, gesturing to the stretcher within.

Ashido said, "How are you guys?"

"Ow," said Kaminari.

Shinso nodded, "Sums it up."

"Who the hell were those guys?" spat Jirou.

Shinso shook his head, "Jealous assholes by the sound of it."

"Why was being Quirkless such a big deal?" said Ashido.

"Guess some people just got a lotta pride."

Ashido peered into the ambulance, "Did they say if he's going to be okay?"

"They said so. He might even wake up soon."

A grumble and moan echoed from the ambulance as Midori rose.

"Speak of the devil," said Shinso.

"What happened…?" let out Midori as he slowly sat up. He was hardly stable, wobbling the entire way while pausing to wince and grunt.

Denki smirked, "You got jumped by two guys and broke one of their noses."

"R-Right… I… I…" His stomach grumbled as he gagged.

"Oh crap," cried Jirou.

"Uh-uh-uh, here!" cried Denki, handing Midori something.

Midori puked into the Shiketsu-labeled cap.

A look of dread consumed Denki's face.

"Is this your hat…?" noticed Midori.

Denki winced, "Yep."

"I'm sorry…"

"It's fine," Denki assured. "In fact, you know what? Keep it. I'll order a new one."

Midori cautiously rested the cap in his lap, staring into space, "Thanks… for helping me…"

"You say that like you didn't expect us, too," said Jirou.

Ashido pumped her fists together, "We got your back, Midori."

Shinso scowled, "Yeah, screw those guys. They had no business talking to you or about your mother like that."

Denki blinked, "Oh, yeah, speaking about your mother. The police are calling her. I think she'll be on her way."

"Oh…" muttered Midori. "Shit…"

-\ XXX /-

AN: So, this chapter was rewritten from an emotional word vomit to a more built-up situation. First, why the rewrite? Well, it had broken the cardinal rule: show don't tell. It was all telling and no show apart from the finale. The emotional beat had no build-up. It just happened which can relate to reality. Sometimes you get emotional and stuff pours out of your mouth, but there was no proper given reason for it to happen in the first place. And then, there's the long term. The implications of that emotional speech suggest a change of pace/character for the story. I didn't want that to happen yet. So, I needed to rein it in for the benefit of the overall story.

Now, the first half matches the original while the latter in completely new. Makoto and Izaya are OCs, of course. Now, I know what I said. Limit OC usage, but I could find the names of any Aldera Junior High students, so I just had to make some up. I wasn't going to take someone from UA or some minor character from one of the spinoffs to do it. So, OCs.

Lastly, notes will no longer be breakdowns of the chapters. I've realized I have a strong tendency to ruin the chapters by explaining every detail in them including the implied messaging. I don't know what these notes will hold from now on, but I won't pre-write defenses of my writing. No more hiding behind these things. If there's something wrong with my story, I need to take on the chin and be willing to listen.

Update Window: April 20th - 30th

Intended Due Date: April 20th - 25th

Window is getting widened due to my hours are work increasing and receiving less time at home.