Mrs. Midoriya, Mr. Midoriya, I'm glad to say that, with future visits in mind, we will be discharging you from the hospital today."

Izuku and Inko stepped forward, looking to the luggage case left on the hospital bed. It was flanked by two police officers. One said, "Your belongings." He patted the top of it, "There's not much of a case – at least, we don't need evidence for it." He opened it and Izuku looked through it. The 'Maneuver Belt' sat atop of it all; condition was good. Though, he could feel the crackling flakes of dried blood on the fabric and metal. He set it in the open top of the case before looking at the suit underneath it. The gash across its torso was obvious with his own blood staining it. There was a ripple up the back of his neck before he looked over his shoulder. Inko wasn't looking at him, but staring past him. The suit was set back down before the belt was resettled and case closed.

Izuku smiled at the officers, "Thanks." He lifted the case off the bed, "Sorry, if it was any trouble at all."

"Not at all." He leaned against the foot of the bed, "I understand why you'd want that back." He chuckled, "Seems like one hell of toy."

Inko stepped forward quickly, taking the case handle, "Excuse me – we should be leaving."

The officer blinked as Inko made a quick turn, "Oh, of course…" Izuku flashed a smile before quickly following his mother out the door. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Probably," answered his partner. "You are an idiot," she clarified.

"I'm sure you're quite excited to get back out there, but please don't strain yourself too much." He added, "Dr. Yaritezawa at Shiketsu Academy has agreed to continue your physical therapy, and they have more than enough equipment to facilitate it."

Izuku laughed as he jogged down the road, leaving the building's parking lot. "Freedom!", he cried, pumping his fists into the air. His mom was mix of embarrassed and amused, giggling while hushing him. He was dressed in a spare shirt and shorts – old stuff from the family apartment – alongside that big yellow backpack. His smile waned as she held the briefcase close. He paused before scratching the back of his head. He closed the difference before nudging his mom, "Hey, once we drop these off at my dorm, why don't we get something to eat?" He sneaked his hand onto the briefcase's handle, lifting it slightly before she slowly relinquished it, "It's almost lunch, after all."

"R-Right…" She slowly pushed up a smile, "What did you have in mind?"

Izuku blinked, chuckling, "Uh… Actually, I don't know what's around here to eat…" He scratched his cheek, "The only place I know is… a jazz cafe."

"Oh, a jazz cafe?" She tilted her head, "Is that what the kids are into nowadays?"

"I…" His face contorted before he tilted his head, "I have no idea what anyone's into, honestly." He tucked a hand into his pocket, "But, after all that hospital food, I kinda want something greasy…"

"I don't think that's the best idea," she countered. "We should stick to something healthy." Izuku feigned disappointment and took the amused scolding on the chin.

"Now, before you leave, Mr. Midoriya, I do want to say what you did was brave, and in a world filled with Heroes, I'm sure it felt almost natural to rush into danger to protect Mr. Iida." A sigh, "But…"

Izuku laid the case on his dorm's dinner table before turning to meet his mother at the door. "Are you sure you want to keep something like that?" They left the dorm, locking the door behind them. "We could've left that in the hands of the police." She fought the frown, forming on her face, "I mean… Having something like that… It's… stained…"

He led them down the stairs, "Well, it still technically belongs to the school." He shrugged, "And I worked really hard on it."

Inko shook her head, "I'm sure you did, but… I…" She shook her head as they stepped onto ground level, "I just don't like you having it…"

Izuku paused before the dorm's front gate before turning to her, "Mom…"

"Midoriya?" questioned a nearing voice. Both Midoriyas turned to see Shinso and Jirou walking through the gate – in uniform with bags in hand.

"What're you doing here?" followed up Jirou.

Izuku blinked before tilting his head, "Eh? Did you forget I live here?"

Her gaze immediately flattened, "Oh quit it." She rolled her eyes before a slight smile rose, "God, I think I liked you better when you were quiet."

"You finally out of the hospital or just out for a walk?" asked Shinso after a chuckle.

Izuku nodded, "Yeah, I got let out, but now Dr. Yaritezawa is in charge of my physical therapy."

"Ah, my condolences," said Shinso.

He blinked, "Eh?"

"Hey, Mrs. Midoriya," offered Jirou.

"Oh, please, call me Inko," she said. "Two Midoriyas might make things a bit confusing."

"Oh, sure."

Izuku pondered, "Where's Kaminari and Ashido?"

"Oh, heh, Mid-Term scores rolled out," explained Shinso. "Posted for all to see."

"What did you guys get?"

Shinso took off his cap before frizzing up his hair, "Six, just barely touched the Top Five."

"Ten – which ain't bad, honestly," said Jirou.

"So… Kaminari and Ashido…"

"Twenty and Nineteen, respectively."

"You're kidding! We studied together and everything!"

"To be fair, they were still passing – barely, but passing," clarified Shinso.

"They got held up by Mr. Haimawari – probably for remedial stuff," explained Jirou.

Inko stepped forward, "I'm sorry to interject, but you wouldn't have happen to catch Izuku's score?"

Shinso tapped his chin, "Oh, yeah, it was, uh… Rank Four, right?"

"Only a single percent behind Three,"said Jirou.

"Really?" He blinked, "Huh… I barely remember the test…"

Inko gave a partial hug, "Good job, Izuku!"

"Thanks, Mom," he chuckled.

Shinso said, "Well, probably shouldn't hold you two up any further."

"Oh, well, why don't you join us?" offered Inko.

"Oh," Shinso shared a look with Jirou, "uh, we wouldn't want to intrude."

"Not at all!" Inko said, "We were just talking about lunch."

Shinso blinked, "Um, well, I could eat…"

"I don't—" started Jirou before a grumble rumbled from her stomach. Heat rushed to her face before she forced off a cough, "I would like to join you…"

Inko clapped her hands together, "That's great!" She nodded, "I'm sure you two would want to change first, so we'll wait."

"Thanks," said Shinso.

Jirou nodded, "We'll be right back." The uniformed students rushed to their respective dorms to dress up for their outing – leaving mother and son alone. They didn't see fit to stand near the staircase to wait, but stepped out of the gate to wait off to the side.

Inko blinked, placing a hand on her cheek, "Oh… Was I too forceful?" She sighed, "I really hope it didn't feel as if I was twisting their arms."

"I doubt it," said Izuku as he leaned against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck.

"As you are a Quirkless person, and as your current doctor, I must implore you that you avoid any such dangers going forward. I have seen many a Hero and civilian come through these doors: young, old, retired. Putting themselves in danger, getting caught in the crossfire, or as mere collateral. There are good cases and worst ones – I'm sure you understand how close yours was."

"Thanks for the food, Mrs. Inko," said Jirou. The group of four were at a casual restaurant – almost a cafe but not quite. They had finished most of their plates and were relaxing. They fell into small talk, bouncing to and fro topics. It wasn't much of an event, a bout of normalcy after such dramatic times… Izuku's leg was bouncing underneath the table.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," said Inko before leaving to powder her nose.

Jirou smiled, "Your mom's real nice Midoriya."

"Thanks…" He chuckled, "Feels kinda weird to be the one to accept that." He tugged at his shirt as it rubbed against the scar.

Shinso coughed, turning, "Hey, Midoriya, I have to ask you something… And… it's been a long time coming…"

Jirou blinked before nodding, "Oh, yeah, definitely." She propped up her elbows, leaning forward, "We need some answers, Midoriya."

"Uh, okay…" murmured Izuku, looking between the two.

"Now, don't take this the wrong way…" Shinso leaned against his propped-up hands, "…" He let out a breath, "What is that shirt?" He shook his head, "It literally just says, 'Dress Shirt'."

Izuku blinked before leaning back in his seat, looking between them, "It's a gag shirt." His smile was both confused and defensive, "It's funny."

"Is it?" pitched Jirou, whirling one of her jacks around her finger.

Izuku's head turned between the two, "Well, I… I'm not so sure any… more."

"Well, let's phrase it like this," said Shinso. He brought his palms together before pointing forward, "Who told you it was funny?"

"Ba…" he trailed off. His face contorted slowly before a hum drawled out, "Hm…"

Jirou frowned, "Please don't tell it was your bully…"

"You know… um…" He straightened his back, clapping his hands, "I still think it's funny." He put his hands on the table, "It's funny."

Jirou took a swig from her cup, "Is it just the one?"

There was a loud silence…

"How many Midoriya?" she asked, setting her cup down.

Izuku adjusted himself in his seat, "Um… Like… Like all of them…"

Jirou covered her mouth, "Pfft."

"Oh, buddy…" said Shinso.

His body dug into his chair, "God… I'm not sure whether or not I should feel this embarrassed… I wanna crawl in a hole and die… Round Two, here I come…"

"Just don't tell Ashido – she might play dress up," said Shinso.

"Well, luckily, none of us have money like that," commented Jirou.

Shinso groaned, "Did you forget about the Business Course?"

All form of life seemed to have dropped from her face, "Oh, god…"

Izuku looked between them, "What? Why? Why're you 'oh, god'-ing?"

Shinso shook his head, "The Business Course has a 'Fashion' Department." He twirled his finger. "It's dedicated to making Heroes look good for the cameras like an amateur modeling agency," the words seemed to die before exasperation grew. "A bunch of fashionistas surrounding you and poking at you to fulfill whatever portfolio they got."

"They dress you up and down. You'll see spots for days and if you're lucky, you'll actually look good in any one of their photos," said Jirou.

"It was one of our first collaborations. Like the Field Support thing, we teamed up with a pair of FD students and they'd dress us, take pictures. Girls with girls; guys with guys."

Jirou's face flushed, "It was a mess – I think only two people had an okay time, but most of us agreed, that that crap wasn't what we signed up for." She crossed her arms, "It was also embarrassing as hell…"

Shinso explained, "Issue from that was the First Business Class needed models – Hero models for their projects, but almost everyone gave 'em a flat no." He snapped his fingers, "So, they came up with a solution. You model, you get free clothes."

"Some of the crap they have is high quality, so some were more willing to put up with it for a nice bag they spotted or shoes."

Shinso gave, "Kaminari volunteered and sold this nice leather jacket he got for quick cash."

"Ashido volunteers for fun, I think. She only partners with the person she worked with the project, though," added Jirou.

"All-in-all, they're probably desperate enough to extend the offer to other Courses, and if they catch wind of your wardrobe…"

Jirou and Shinso in unison, "Good luck."

"Just the idea…" said Izuku with a shiver. "I can't even imagine… God, I feel embarrassed by proxy."

"Hm? Embarrassed about what?" echoed Inko as she stepped back towards the table.

Izuku explained, "Oh, they're just telling about one of their class projects – modeling."

"They have something like that?"

Shinso shook his head, "Afraid so, ma'am."

"Huh…Well, it seems we're all finished with our meals, I'll pay and then we can be on our way, okay?"

"Cool," Shinso.

Jirou, "Yep!"

"Thanks, Mom," said Izuku.

"I don't wish to see you lose your life. You're brave and judging by your school of choice – you're smart. And those are qualities of a Hero, however, you simply aren't one." A breath followed by a cautious continuation, "It is best to leave this life to those who are best suited for it. This is the reality of things" He pleaded, "So, please, when next you see danger, call a Hero, call the police, and run."

Shinso and Jirou went back to the dorms, leaving mother and son to make their way towards the train station. The night had rolled in; paving darkness that was illuminated by wavering businesses and hanging bulbs. They were quiet – exhausted their energy with company and now had little for each other. Left Izuku to his mind and the words that seem to keep echoing within it. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he ruminated. Inko was no better, finding herself wandering back over the past few days.

They stepped onto the train platform, waiting for the last one to arrive. Inko took a breath, "This is it…" She paced back and forth, "Same rules… Double check your locks, I'll send you your allowance every weekend, but… I'll need text messages – when you're home after school. And if anything happens – anything, call me immediately."

Izuku nodded, "I will."

"Izuku… I…" she trailed off. "I don't like you having that suit…"

Izuku pondered for a moment, "…" He let out a breath, offering a smile, "It does belong to the school. I do have to give it back."

Inko nodded, "I know…"

"…"

"Hey, Mom, I kinda have a weird question for you…" he said, scratching the back of his head.

She coughed, "Yes, Izuku?"

Izuku opened his mouth and shut it. A smile was replaced by frown before reverting. His face contorted before relaxing and contorting again, "Mom…" He swallowed before taking a deep breath and smiling, "Do you think I can be a Hero?"

"…" She blinked – emotions washing and flickering before confusion found its place, "What?" For a moment, a brief moment, she saw a little boy again – eyes half-full of tears and voice quivering.

"Please stand back – behind the yellow line."

The train blared into the station, whipping air and shaking the platform in the process. The rumbling came a close soon after, as the wheels hissed and the doors whistled open. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as people exited the train, "Sorry… I guess that was a dumb question, huh?"

Inko blinked, "Izuku…?" She stumbled, "I…"

He put his arm on her shoulders, guiding her through exiting passengers, "We don't want you to miss the train, Mom." Once her feet landed within, they separated. "I'll text you when I get back to the dorms – I promise, I'll be safe." His smile continued throughout, "Love you, Mom."

She slowly caught up with her son, "I love you, too."

He smiled and waved, stepping away as the doors slid shut. The train hissed before it started down the tracks once more. Mother and son watched as the other left. A breath slowly trickled from his mouth before he joined the departing crowd. Izuku walked the dying streets; his focus occasionally slipping towards the passing alleyways.

"Did you expect the answer to change – after all these years…?"

"I wonder if there's a way to shut you up…" he internally sighed.

"I mean, come on, after that stunt, did you really think that would change her mind…? Anyone's…? A few more seconds and Quirkless Hero becomes fucking tragic, stupid-ass nerd – trying to become more than just the extra he is… It's because of you that he got away – remember that…?"

A frown grew across Izuku's face, "He's going to be out there… He's going to hurt a lot more people…"

"And you let him…"

His hands balled into fists, "And I let him…"

"Saving Ingenium didn't change anyone's fucking mind… I mean what would…?"

"Stain."

-XXX-

The Hero Killer stepped down the fire escape, pausing at just the right height. He crouched in place and looked through the gaps of the railing. The rickety metal he stood upon was attached to a closed office building – tall enough to eclipse him from the moonlight. And gave him the perfect overlook to the street below. Specifically, he lofted over the blinking and flickering lights of the city's police station. Over the past few days, it was most active it had ever been. It held the meeting of Heroes and Sidekicks to organize a certain operation to clean a certain stain. When that failed, it plunged into chaos. When the public had learned of their failure, news outlets picked at the lights like moths. A few press conferences later and the station now enjoyed a recent peace.

Each passing second brought down their defenses bit by bit. To the point where he, media-proclaimed serial killer, could come a block from the station with nay a suspicion. He did have to disguise himself – with clothes he found in that QC apartment. The fabric were dirtied and ripped, he surely looked homeless. Which was good, the homeless were discomforting – people would strain to protect their pockets before taking in a face.

Midoriya tilted his head, causing his blood-stained cap to fall, "Do you think getting your knives back will make you whole again?"

"…"

"Oh, I see, the sword wasn't enough to kill me so you want to use something a bit more personal, huh?" Midoriya joked.

"A warrior needs his tools," said Chizome as he stood.

Midoriya scoffed, "Warrior?" He stood, leaning against the railing, "You're not a warrior – a warrior does not blitz people in alleyways."

Chizome growled as he descended the escape, "A warrior strikes when most advantageous."

"A warrior does not kill the unarmed and paralyzed," said Midoriya. "A warrior fights warriors; not victims…"

Chizome muttered, "I can't purchase more daggers – stealing is too risky," to himself as he slid down the final ladder.

"So, stealing is fine," clarified Midoriya from the other side of the ladder. Blood pattered against the ground with every step.

"I have to break into their evidence room to retrieve them."

"But you know not where that is," said Midoriya as he followed them, nearly slipping in his own blood.

"I doubt the building's schematics would be on public record…"

Midoriya shrugged, "There would be some record, though… And there is a way to get it."

"Yes," hummed Chizome as he rubbed his chin.

"You know what they say, when you want weapons or drugs, don't bother with a dealer," echoed Midoriya as blood splattered across the ground. "The best and most trusted source are your fans." He paused at the mouth of the alleyway, rubbing his chin, "Though… to abuse your fans in such a way as they would surely be arrested as accomplices to your crimes… Surely—"

Chizome stepped through Midoriya, erasing the image from his mind, "Enough." He looked up and down the street, "I need to find an Internet Cafe…"

-\ XXX /-

AN: Chapter Title is linked to the song, "Underdog" by Takayan. We're finally out of the hospital and moving onward. I do apologize for the late arrival of the chapter. I won't get into it - mainly work with some writer's block sprinkled in there. But, chapter's done now. I'm gonna get it out, so I'll keep the notes short.

With that, thank you for reading and criticize away!

Update Window: August 20th - 30th

Intended Due Date: August 20th - 25th