Reviews are, as ever, appreciated.

Izuku hated hospitals. He wasn't sure if it was him, or it was Jason. Could be both, actually. Jason hated being laid up, because it made him feel vulnerable. And Izuku…Izuku was never going to forget the absolute apathy of the doctor who had told him to give up on all his dreams, would never forget the cold, chemical smell of the room where his dreams had first been crushed.

Christ he was miserable today. Weren't painkillers supposed to send you to a happy, dreamy place? Izuku felt like it was actively unfair that the cliché didn't apply. He wanted to have some sort of soft, cottony dreaminess, and all he had was grief and rage.

If Izuku was to be completely honest with himself- and he did try, usually- then it was mostly rage. Tomura Shigaraki, he thought vindictively, engraving the name into his mind. Tomura Shigaraki, leader of the League of Villains, the man who had tried to kill all of Izuku's class- all of the friends he tentatively thought he was making- and had cost Izuku an arm. He might have cost Izuku his dream, his hope to be a Pro Hero.

Vigilante plan, version ten. Find Tomura Shigaraki and string him from a lamppost with his guts open to the air. Izuku shuddered, catching himself before he sank too deeply into hatred. No. No torture, no playing around, no stupidity. Just a man and a bullet and, later on, a corpse. Nothing else. Jason had made the mistake of sinking deeply into his hate and his malice, and where had that gotten him? And Jason had had an excuse ready-made. The Lazarus Pit, after all, drove people mad. When Ra's Al Ghul had dumped Jason's body into it, Jason had come out screaming, fighting, alive and insane. Izuku wasn't quite…he knew that he was missing a lot of memories. All he remembered of that was an impression of blood and broken glass and freezing cold and then, what he knew was months later, Gotham. The Pit Rage had made Jason's plan to force Bruce to kill the Joker seem sensible. Seem right.

Three months after that, by the time Jason regained some semblance of sanity- after a head injury, if Izuku remembered correctly- he'd asked himself a simple question: why not just kill the Joker himself? Why take the risk of Bruce failing him again? But by then Bruce had been on the alert, and he'd made sure to keep Jason away from the clown.

Izuku could just about remember two years after that, hearing what the Joker had done to Superman. He'd gotten into a fight with Bruce over that, he remembered, unthinkingly commenting that if Bruce had gotten over his hang-ups all those people would have survived. Izuku could taste the bitter regret that if he'd come back to his senses earlier- if he hadn't been so intent on punishing Bruce- the Joker would never have had the chance to kill millions. Izuku didn't have the luxury of pretending that it was the Pit that sparked the anger in him. He didn't have the defence that resurrection had driven him mad.

Izuku Midoriya wanted to kill, and he wanted it all on his own. He couldn't say he felt any real regret over that fact. If Shigaraki wanted to kill kids, then…it seemed only just that one of those kids killed him in return. If he got the chance. If he didn't, if the other Heroes took Shigaraki down, what then? Would he break into Tartarus, to take his revenge? Izuku moved his tongue, the cut pressing against his teeth, and the dull flare of pain that broke through the drugs brought him back to his senses. No. No, of course not. If Shigaraki escaped, if Izuku had the chance, then he'd put a bullet through the man. Otherwise? A lifetime in prison would satisfy Izuku, so long as Shigaraki stayed there.

"Izuku?"

Izuku slowly turned his head, rolling it over on the pillow. He managed to find a smile from somewhere deep inside, although it must have looked ghoulish on his face.

"Mom?"

He'd only spoken to his mom for a moment before he went into surgery, just long enough to get her permission. He searched his brain, scattered thoughts coalescing. Right. Right. He'd needed surgery because, even if the field cauterisation had saved his life, it wasn't exactly good for healing. They'd had to amputate his arm a few inches above the initial injury, and the sooner the better with that sort of thing. He blinked, closing his eyes for a moment and willing some of the haze to leave him. Apparently that part of the cliché hadn't had the decency to stay away from him. His Mom sniffed loudly, drawing his attention back to her.

"Oh, Izuku!"

She swooped down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and sobbing against his shoulder. A spike of pain flitted through his heart- emotional, not from his injured ribs- and he returned the hug, his own eyes filling with tears. His right arm curled around her shoulders in return, and a pang went through his as he realised, for perhaps the first time, that he would never be able to properly hug his mom again. Oh, modern prosthetics were incredible- but they wouldn't properly translate feeling. They wouldn't correctly relay the sense of touch. For the rest of his life, his left arm would always be harder, colder than the right, an endless reminder that villains had come into his life and he hadn't left unscathed.

And there was that rage again. Izuku buried it under a wave of affection for his mom and hoped that he wouldn't be required to get therapy, because God only knew what might come out. Somehow he suspected that occasional murderous impulses might not be looked upon too favourably in a Hero student. Well, given how Bakugo acted, maybe only murderous impulses that didn't use a quirk. Who knew. But for the moment…for the moment Izuku leaned into his Mom, tears soaking into her cardigan, and let himself cry. They stayed that way for several minutes, before Inko's sobbing turned to hiccoughing sniffles and she pulled away, wiping at her teary eyes. Izuku sniffed, leaning back onto the pillow, although her fingers stayed wrapped around his in a comforting grip.

"Oh, sweetheart. Your arm," she whispered. Izuku craned his neck around, seeing what remained. He guessed that the amputation was a few inches above his elbow, but the arm was wrapped in swathes of clean white bandages. It didn't hurt, through the painkillers, but his chest stung with dull regret. If he'd been faster- if he'd been better prepared, he could have stopped Shigaraki before he ever reached him. He didn't regret saving Ashido, but he still…he still felt like he had failed, in some way. His Mom sniffled again, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief. Somehow the innocuousness of it made him smile, weak and watery though it must have been. His Mom managed something that could be called a smile in return, tucking the handkerchief back into her pocket.

"I'm glad you're awake, honey," she said, taking the seat next to his bed, "But did you really have to pull all your teachers into asking me not to remove you from the Hero Course?"

Izuku choked on thin air, coughing into his elbow before he straightened.

"I- I didn't expect them to-"

"You made quite an impression," Recovery Girl called, walking through the room and vanishing next door. Izuku stared blankly after her, a blush crawling up his cheeks. He…vaguely…remembered asking Principal Nedzu and All Might to help persuade his Mom, but he hadn't thought they'd be so quick about it. His Mom rested her hand on his, where it lay on top of the sheet.

"They- the Principal and All Might- were quite earnest," she said, smiling shakily, "Although I think they just wanted me to talk to you. Izuku…I…you're so badly injured. I…"

Izuku knew what she was going to say next. She'd been worried about him all of his life, because he was Quirkless. Because he was powerless. He loved her too much to really hold it against her, but this would have just reinforced what she had thought. She would pull him out of U.A., and he couldn't say that it was unjustified. He closed his eyes, smile falling from his face as tears prickled at him. He could still fall back on his vigilante plan, of course, but…without gear, without support, how long would he last? His Vigilante Plans still ended in his death, all except the most optimistic- and those involved most of his lifetime spent in prison. Izuku wasn't sure he preferred those ones. Was it really living, to spent so long imprisoned, to return to society branded as a criminal? No. No. His Mom spoke again, a soft hand pressing against his brow.

"Izuku? Izuku, baby, look at me."

He forced his eyes open, his eyes meeting hers. Inko- his Mom- had the same colour eyes as he did, a deep forest green. More evidence that the eye and hair colour was some sort of mutation, they matched too closely. His Mom peered at him, her expression wrinkling in concern.

"I…I want you to be safe, Izuku. You were supposed to be safe."

"I- I couldn't leave Ashido," Izuku whispered, his voice catching in his throat, "She was going to…she was going to die, Mom. I didn't even think. I just moved."

His Mom sniffed again, taking her hand away from his head to wipe at her eyes.

"I know, Izuku. My little Hero. I'm just so worried, and you were attacked by villains, and you've been hurt so badly. I…I was going to take you out of U.A., when I heard."

Izuku felt a cold hand settle in his chest, squeezing his heart. He tried to speak, to protest, but only a wisp of air came from his lips. His Mom shushed him, regardless, continuing quietly.

"But then Principal Nedzu and All Might talked to me. They said…that if you hadn't been there, the two other students might have died. And you'll be…you'll be targeted."

She laughed, sounding almost hysterical.

"All Might apologised. So, so many times. I couldn't believe it. H-he said that he couldn't tell me what to think, or do, but that I should…I should ask you. I…Izuku…do you really still want to be a Hero?"

There was only one answer to that, and Izuku's fingers twisted into the sheets on the bed again as he set his jaw.

"More than anything in the world," he whispered. He'd found his voice again, and he knew he'd best make use of it, make his arguments now.

"Mom, I…I'm Quirkless. Everyone has always looked down on me for something I…I was born with. They always laughed when I said I wanted to be a Hero. And I…I want to prove them wrong. So badly. I want to know that they- that they aren't right. I didn't…I didn't want to get hurt. I don't want to get hurt. But I- if it's my arm, or Ashido dying. Or anyone dying. I- I'd do it again, anytime."

"I know, Izuku," his Mom said, so softly, without tears. Somehow, her dry face frightened him more than any crying ever had. A memory rose up- barely a day after he'd been diagnosed as Quirkless, watching that same old video of All Might saving so many people, and asking his Mom: could I still be a hero? She'd cried then, he dimly remembered, but he'd never gotten an answer. He drew in a sniffing breath, the air feeling cold against his tear-stained cheeks. His Mom nodded, her fingers clamping onto his.

"Izuku," she said, quietly, "I won't take you out of the Hero Course. I…I'll believe in you, if you want to stay. Even if I'm so frightened…I'll believe that you can be a Hero."

Over a decade later, Izuku thought, and he finally had his answer. He smiled, fragile and gentle.

"Thank you," he whispered. His Mom nodded, ducking her head. Her voice remained quiet, though, as she asked another question.

"Izuku. If…if I had taken you out of the Hero course…would you have tried? Would you have gone to another school, a university, and left all of this behind?"

He tried to tell her that he would have, but the lie caught in his throat and he flushed, shame curdling in his chest. No. No, he wouldn't have. Ten years he'd spent being put down, being belittled, being the victim. Selfish as it was, he wanted to be a Hero to escape from that as much as he wanted to help people. Cowardly as it might be, he couldn't stand the thought of the rest of his life being like that, defined by nothing more than his Quirklessness, a constant reminder of a humanity that was. Weak though it made him…there was a reason behind all those Vigilante Plans. His Mom nodded, slowly.

"Of course. I…I know you don't want to hear it, Izuku, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I couldn't help you."

Izuku looked up at her, the flash of anger fading as the words worked through his mind. An apology for not being able to help him, not an apology for his birth. He sniffed, feeling the tears trickle down his cheeks, and pulled his Mom into another hug, his own apology going unvoiced. Recovery Girl walked over, presumably sensing that the most emotionally charged portion of the conversation was over. She gave Izuku a smile, wrinkled face crinkling further, as his Mom pulled back.

"There we are, dears. If you have the time, I'd like to walk the two of you through the treatment process going forwards?"

Izuku nodded, and his Mom mimicked him. Recovery Girl took a seat on the bed next to him, settling her cane across her knees.

"As I said earlier, it normally takes months for an effective prosthetic to be adjusted to Quirks and inherited mutations. In this case, however, you are…shall we say baseline human, and therefore don't have that problem. The first step is a surgery to connect your nervous system to the…port, I suppose, for the prosthetic. We've called in a specialist surgeon, she'll be here later today."

"Not you?" Izuku's Mom asked, peering at Recovery Girl. Recovery Girl shook her head.

"I carried out the initial surgery- I am a licensed and experienced surgeon- but I'm getting a little old for the delicate work of rethreading nerves, dear. I would have done it if I had no choice, but this way is better."

Izuku nodded and Recovery Girl offered him another smile.

"That implant will take a few days to heal, even with my Quirk, I'm afraid. Once it's healed, however, you'll have an initial prosthetic. It'll be simple, unlikely to manage more delicate motions, but it's necessary to acclimate your nerves to functioning with the implant. Over the next weeks and months we'll continue to replace and upgrade the prosthetic, until in the end you have a full function high-class prosthetic that has almost all of the functions of your arm. You'll still lack some things…your sense of touch won't be the same, mostly, but you will be capable of just about anything your flesh arm could manage. Some Heroes like to add all sorts of things, but personally I don't advise it. Your shoulder and most of your upper arm is still intact, so you need to be careful of that."

Recovery Girl hesitated before clearing her throat.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but Hero Students receive a more favourable level of healthcare compared to civilians. The average level of expense support is about five percent higher- a prosthetic for a civilian needs their insurance to pay about fifteen percent. Given that you were injured during an exercise, U.A. will pay your medical expenses. Principal Nedzu was quite insistent on that."

From the corner of his eye Izuku saw his Mom relax, a faint smile curving the corners of her lips. They weren't desperate for money- his Dad had a good job, sending money back from overseas- but they weren't particularly well off. The cost of a high-quality prosthetic wouldn't break them, but it would have made finances tighter.

"Less happily," Recovery Girl continued, "There have been some problems with the press. They were…one of the reporters asked, quite publicly, if the injured student was Quirkless. We- that is, Principal Nedzu and Mr Aizawa- don't think that they know you're Quirkless. They just know that there's a Quirkless student in Class 1-A, and…"

"Quirkless discrimination did the rest," Izuku said, his voice still hoarse and grating. Recovery Girl nodded sharply. Strangely, the anger he had half expected just…wasn't there. There was a just a cool numbness, an exhausted apathy. He saw the sympathy in Recovery Girl's eyes. Earlier today- or perhaps yesterday, he didn't know the time- it might have fanned the flames of anger in him, aggravation as pity raked at his sensitive soul. Today it just soothed him, and he sank back into the pillows, closing his eyes. He heard a soft click as Recovery Girl hopped down from the bed.

"I'll give you a few minutes, Midoriya. More if you want. Some of your classmates wanted to see you- do you mind if I send them in, in ten minutes or so?"

"I-I don't mind. But I thought- what time is it?"

"It's…half past eight, Friday morning. You slept through the night after your surgery. Your class has the day off, but some of them came in anyway, to check on you," Recovery Girl said, smiling at him. Izuku sniffled again, smiling gratefully at his Mom as she pressed a tissue into his hand. He wiped his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. Friday morning. Just yesterday he had been on his way to school, fresh and cheerful-ish. He hadn't really expected to end up in a hospital bed. Maybe if there had been another Battle Training exercise and he'd ended up facing Kacchan. Izuku laughed at the darkly humorous thought, a watery and strangled noise. His Mom looked at him, concern wrinkling her brow, and he shook his head.

"Just remembering a- a joke, Mom."

She didn't look convinced, but she let it lie. Izuku let out a slow breath, letting the back of his mind work over the question of how exactly the reporters had known he was Quirkless. He didn't think that U.A. would release any information like that, but there was no such thing as complete secrecy.

Well. What was the old saying- two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead? Something like that. But there was definitely more than one person in the know here. Izuku supposed that, overall, it didn't really matter. Sure he might draw some attention, but if he went Underground he might be able to avoid the whole thing. Didn't make him dislike it any less, but there it was. Two months to get back to fighting condition…Izuku wasn't fond of that. But, depending on how the prosthetic worked, he might be able to…he wasn't a mechanical genius, but Jason had known plenty. Practical knowledge, too. Izuku might well be able to upgrade the arm, although was that really a good idea? Having one arm noticeably stronger than the other could throw him off, but he guessed that he could find out. Izuku opened his eyes again, taking a deep breath and smiling as best he could. His Mom looked down at him, her eyes crinkling in a gentle smile.

"Izuku," she said softly, "I'm glad that you're making friends. When you were in your junior school, I was…so worried."

Izuku didn't meet her eyes. His Mom had been friends with Kacchan's parents for a lot longer than he'd been alive. How could he just come out and tell her that Kacchan had been, well, bullying him, for almost a decade? She'd go off to confront Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugo, he knew that, and it could break their whole friendship. He couldn't do something like that. Besides, he had to wonder which of his classmates might come to see him. He hadn't thought that they would have gotten to know him well enough to come check on him on a day off…his Mom turned as there was a faint knock on the door, shuffling away from him a little. She kept her hand on his, though, warmly reassuring, and Izuku felt a pang of affection deep in his chest. The door opened, and a mess of fluffy pink hair poked through.

"Midori?"

Izuku smiled, wider than normal, though his eyes watered. Ashido peeked around the door and walked in, waving timidly. He'd never expected her to be awkward, but he wasn't right all the time.

"Hey, Ashido."

Izuku wasn't ashamed to admit that it took him a moment to remember to wave with his right hand and not his left. Part of him found the thought of waving his stump in greeting absolutely hilarious, but Izuku was still just about sane enough to realise that that part was probably Jason, who'd liked to make death jokes. About his own death, specifically, because…Izuku honestly couldn't say exactly why. Insanity, maybe. But either way, he hadn't horribly embarrassed himself yet. His Mom smiled at his classmate.

"Hello, dear. I'm Inko Midoriya- Izuku's Mom."

Ashido offered a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs Midoriya. I'm, um, Mina Ashido. I was- I came to say thanks, Midori. You, um, you…"

Ashido trailed off, her cheeks growing somehow pinker. Her voice had cracked a little near the end of her sentence, her black and gold eyes fixed on him. Izuku couldn't quite follow the line of her gaze, but he was pretty sure that she was looking at the mass of bandages enclosing what was left of his arm- he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. He blinked tears away himself. He was an empathetic crier- his Mom was probably tearing up right now as well.

"Ashido was with me at the USJ, Mom," he said, thickly, "She was…I jumped in front of Shigaraki when he tried to attack her."

His Mom made a little sound of understanding, ducking her head and wiping at her eyes before coming up smiling. Ashido looked wrong-footed- the smile must have cut the apology she was building up to off at the knees. She still tried, though.

"I- Mrs Midoriya, it was my fault Midori got hurt, if I hadn't-"

"It wasn't your fault," Izuku interrupted. He blushed when both of them turned to him- he didn't normally cut in on people- but it needed to be said.

"Shigaraki was going to attack anyone in range, and he was too- too fast for any of us. Someone was going to get hurt either way. It's better that it was my arm than your face."

A prosthetic arm was just an inconvenience, especially compared to losing your head. His Mom buried her face in a handkerchief, sniffling, and Ashido waved her hands about. Normally she was quite a tactile person- Izuku suspected she would have gone in for a hug if it weren't for the fact that he didn't like being touched. She noticed that a few days ago, in the cafeteria. Izuku remembered the way she'd moved back when he'd flinched at her getting too close. Actually, he really hoped she didn't think that he was afraid of her Quirk. He wasn't, really, he hadn't even thought about it, but now he was and Izuku forced himself to concentrate on the here and now.

"Don't," he said quietly, "Please. The only person I blame is Shigaraki. I- if we were back there, I'd do the same thing again."

Well, maybe he'd be a bit more careful with the slash at Shigaraki's throat. But other than that, he honestly didn't regret his actions. Ashido waved her hands again and walked over to a chair, slumping into it.

"I…I guess, Midori. But I still feel like…if I'd been faster, or smarter, or if I'd insisted we go through the landslide zone and take a little longer, this wouldn't have happened."

All Izuku could offer was a shrug.

"We…we did what we thought was best, and it went wrong. We couldn't help that. And…if we hadn't been there, Shigaraki might just have attacked someone else. It could have been Mr Aizawa, or another student, or…anyone. So it…no-one died, and we'll all be ok. So it didn't turn out for the best, but it didn't turn out…badly."

An inspirational speaker he was not. There was a slightly amused croak from the door as Tsuyu came into the room.

"Told you he'd say that, Ashido. You look well, Midoriya. Except for your arm."

Wow. It was true, but still. Wow.

"Nice to see you too, Tsuyu," Izuku said, smiling. The sheer nonchalance was honestly pretty refreshing. Kirishima followed Tsuyu into the room, grinning.

"Hey, Mido. How's it going?"

"It's been better," Izuku admitted, "Mom, these are Tsuyu Asui and, um…"

Kirishima took pity on Izuku.

"Eijiro Kirishima. Nice to meet you, Mrs Midoriya! Honestly most of the class wanted to come in and check on you, but we got dibs!"

"And if you're too loud I'll revoke your access, so keep it down dear."

Kirishima hunched in on himself faster than Izuku thought possible as Recovery Girl called from the next room over.

"Yes Ma'am, Recovery Girl!"

"Good lad."

Tsuyu shook her head at him, slipping into the seat next to Ashido. Kirishima chose to lean against the wall instead, shaking his head.

"You really lost your arm, huh? That's messed up, man. Guess it was a pretty heroic way to lose it, though. You gonna be ok?"

Izuku smiled slightly, looking down.

"Yeah. I…yeah. I'm getting a prosthetic, so in a few months it'll be…just like new."

He looked up to see that Kirishima had tilted his head, arms folded and eyes narrowed. Tsuyu croaked, in a manner that sounded distinctly unimpressed, and Izuku couldn't see Ashido without obviously turning his head. Kirishima shrugged, smiled.

"Yeah, guess you'll be back to showing us all up pretty soon then! Good thing too, I wanted to ask if you could give me some pointers on fighting. My Quirk's alright, but it'd be better to know how to fight too, right?"

Kirishima flexed one arm, his forearm turning to stone as he did so. Once again, Izuku silently thanked him for not calling out the obvious lie earlier. He forced the guilty-shame feeling out of his chest, ignoring it.

"What happened to the two of you at the USJ? I haven't heard from anyone else other than just that you were all okay," he said. Kirishima grimaced.

"Ah. Yeah, the USJ. I was with Bakugo, right, got grabbed up by that teleporter? We landed in the Fire Zone, villains all over the place. Bakugo went off on one without even looking. It was super cool, don't get me wrong, he's got real manly passion, but the way he was blowing people about was pretty harsh. I could've gotten hurt if my Quirk wasn't so useful. Though I'm sure he knew that! If someone who would have been in danger was there I'm sure he would've held back!"

Izuku didn't burst Kirishima's bubble. There was something in Kirishima's eyes that told him that he might not have to, but he couldn't blame the other boy for having hope. Kacchan was, despite everything, pretty cool, as well as being smart and strong. If his personality wasn't so grating he would have been a great person.

Izuku wondered if there was a way to test yourself for Stockholm Syndrome without getting a therapist. Kirishima might need it in the future. But either way, it sounded like it hadn't been that bad for Kirishima.

"I mean, could have done without him rushing off to join the fight. We can't all go blasting around at high speed, right? And it ain't cool to just leave your colleagues in the middle of the fight. But yeah, it wasn't too bad for me. What about you, Asui?"

Tsuyu shifted in her seat, drawing her legs up. A faint croak rumbled in her throat.

"Call me Tsuyu, Kirishima. I ended up in the Rain zone, along with Hagakure and Mineta."

Tsuyu's expression almost didn't change, but Izuku saw the corners of her eyes tighten a fraction and there was a faint rumble in her voice that sounded angry. He sat up in his bed, eyes fixing onto her. She looked to the side, shaking her head.

"There weren't as many villains there, I think. The news said that there were seventy-two in total, but most of those were in the central plaza. There were ten, maybe? Anyway. Mineta started crying as soon as we got dropped in, wailing that he didn't want to die a virgin."

"Ah," Kirishima said. Izuku's Mom turned her head round to look at Tsuyu, and Ashido made a noise of disgust. Tsuyu rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, while he was crying Hagakure and I managed to take out most of the villains and get away, and I grabbed Mineta-" -her tongue rolled out to illustrate for a moment- "and brought him with us. We jumped up into a building to get away, trying to hide. The villains there didn't seem to have very good movement abilities, so we were pretty safe."

Tsuyu paused again, another croak rolling from her. This one sounded like it came from somewhere deep inside, darkened with anger.

"So Mineta decided it would be a good time to fling himself on my back and get a good feel of my chest."

"That little bastard," Kirishima said, a yelp immediately following, "Sorry, Mrs Midoriya!"

"Don't worry about it, dear," Izuku's Mom said distractedly, still looking at Tsuyu, "He groped you in the middle of a villain attack, dear?"

Tsuyu's expression settled into vague irritation. If Izuku had to guess, from the context of the limited emoting that she did, for a normal person that would be the equivalent of a snarling rage. Izuku pressed his lips together to keep his own growl off his face, the anger surging sourly in him. For Christs sake it was 2335, casual sexual assault was supposed to have been left in the early twentieth century! Surely someone must have done something about it. Tsuyu looked at his Mom, nodding.

"I guess so, yeah. I almost threw him out the window, but the villains were breaking down the door a floor below so we had to keep moving. Could have done without him calling me 'Frog-boobs' the whole time, too."

Alright. Injured or not, Izuku was going to beat the crap out of Mineta the first chance he got. He'd given him the benefit of the doubt even when he'd noticed the generally lecherous nature of the comments Mineta made, and it turned out he shouldn't have. Then again, maybe he'd have to get in line. Ashido was looking murderous, and Kirishima wasn't smiling for once.

"Have you told anyone?" Izuku asked, his voice somehow remaining level. Tsuyu glanced at him and shrugged.

"Not yet. Didn't really think it would matter, since we'd been attacked by villains."

Izuku felt a muscle jump in his jaw. The door to the other room slammed open and Izuku almost launched himself out of his bed. There was a pen on the desk nearby and he was right-handed, good chance that he could hit someone in the eye. Recovery Girl came through with a walk that was really more of a stomp. A woman who was in her seventies or eighties and barely five feet tall shouldn't be so intimidating, but she was putting off an aura murderous enough that it immediately displaced both Aizawa and Shigaraki in Izuku's personal list of intimidating people.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said, sounding like the only thing she was sorry about was that there wasn't someone worthy inside her personal radius of violence, "But did you just say that your classmate, during a Villain attack, responded by crying and then groping you? Intentionally?"

Looked like Mineta might learn that kneecaps were a privilege and not a right before Izuku, Ashido or Kirishima could get to him. That was a shame. Part of friendship was hiding the bodies of creeps making your friends uncomfortable, right? Tsuyu blinked.

"Um…yes?"

Recovery Girl drew in a deep, deep breath. Izuku shifted towards the side of the bed closest to the desk, wondering if he could take the old heroine if she snapped and decided to go on a rampage. Actually, if she went after Mineta, would he even care to?

"Alright, dear. I need to speak to a few people. I can trust all of you to make sure that Midoriya doesn't do anything stupid while I'm gone, can't I?"

Kirishima nodded silently, raising his hands in a manner that screamed 'I'm trying to look inoffensive'. Izuku would have been betrayed, but in Kirishima's place he probably would have done the same thing. Tsuyu blinked innocently.

"I was…going to talk to Mr Aizawa the next time we were in class, ribbit."

"No need to worry, dear," Recovery Girl said, already at the door, "The sooner he knows the better. Stay with your friends and keep an eye on Midoriya, if you don't mind. I'll go and talk to Aizawa."

Recovery Girl stalked out of the room, leaving them all in shocked silence for a few moments. Ashido was the one to break it, her first words since Tsuyu and Kirishima had entered.

"You think she's going to kill Mineta?"

"Do we really care?" Kirishima asked. Izuku managed a shrug that, being one-armed, probably looked a bit pathetic.

"It's not really heroic?" he tried. Even Tsuyu looked at him after that one.

"You don't sound convinced, Midoriya," she noted. Izuku sank down into his pillows, because killing people wasn't really heroic, but there were some people who- and that was a dangerous thought line that he wasn't going to go down today.

"I'm pretty sure she's gone to tell Aizawa, so maybe Mineta really won't survive," Kirishima added. Tsuyu looked thoughtful for a moment before she shrugged.

"I guess that it only speeds up him learning about it," she admitted, "And it was a bit annoying."

A bit annoying. It sounded slightly worse than that, but Izuku didn't want to keep pestering her. Kirishima looked annoyed, but didn't say anything. Ashido leaned forward.

"So, Midori," she said, "You'll be as good as new in a few months, right? I was hoping to get some tips, same as Kiri. I could probably do with the help, right?"

Izuku, who distinctly remembered seeing Ashido land an almost perfect roundhouse kick on some unlucky villain, doubted that she needed that much help, but was all too familiar with anxiety. Best to try and head that off, even if she was just trying to make conversation. Ashido kept talking, though, so he didn't really get the chance.

"I mean, I'm ok at the whole fighting thing, right? But you took me out easily in battle training, and when those thugs jumped us you took down like sixty percent of them! It was super cool, even when that guy grabbed you-"

Izuku, having turned his head to look at Ashido, saw her brow wrinkle, her mouth still open. She frowned, her mouth closing before she spoke again.

"That guy who grabbed you. He had fingers made of rock, right. And on the bus…you said that you knew a guy, once, who had a power like Kiri's, only it only covered his fingers."

Ah. Ah-huh. He had said that, hadn't he? Really there were two ways he could do this: he could try to convince them that he'd run with a bad crowd, and therefore hide that he'd been sort of pathetic, in terms of fighting, until about ten months before. Well, given the time it had taken him to acclimate, more like until about six months before, but that was just nit-picking. Or he could tell them that he'd tripped ten months ago, hit his head, and been an unknown combat genius the whole time.

Actually, the second one might cause less trouble.

"Ah…yeah. Yeah, he, um, yeah."

"That's very eloquent, Midoriya," Tsuyu said dryly, "Though I think Ashido wanted a little more."

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, pinching at his forehead with his free hand.

"I…um. It's not really…he was a few years ahead of me, when I first went into Middle School. He liked to bully…well, anyone. But since I'm Quirkless, I guess I was a sort of easy target?"

Ashido rocked forward on her chair, the back legs lifting off the ground for a moment and clacking back down. Her eyes met Izuku's, her brows drawn down.

"So you hit him, right? Knocked him off his feet?"

Izuku looked away.

"I…no. I…until a few months ago, I- I wasn't much of a fighter. He just, well, he…I didn't really do anything. He punched a wall, to try and intimidate me, broke a finger because he didn't know how to punch. It was just the normal thing, back then."

He had not meant to say that. That wasn't good. Ashido moved as though she was about to stand. From the corner of his eye Izuku saw Kirishima unfold from the wall, and Tsuyu move as though to stand. His Mom was staring at him, her green eyes dark with worry.

"The normal thing."

Ashido sounded far too calm for her narrow-eyed expression. Izuku looked down at the sheets, closing his eyes for a long breath before he looked at her again.

"The normal thing. Yeah."

Izuku took a deep breath, because there were some things that probably needed to be said, before anyone got the wrong idea. He spared a few seconds to throw together a story that would sort of sound reasonable and started to speak again.

"About ten months ago, I was in class. It was pretty normal, other than the teacher telling everyone that I was applying for U.A."

And – hmm. Actually, Izuku wondered about that. There might be something there, so long as he got a moment to think on it. Not now, though.

"A couple of people took offence, threw my notebook out the window, said a couple of…things. Just stuff about me not being able to be a Hero, that sort of thing. So I got my notebook back and went up to the school roof, just to think about it."

Had he gone up to the roof just to think about it? The time immediately before the memories induced blackout was a bit fuzzy, but Izuku didn't think he'd been genuinely contemplating taking a jump off the roof. For starters, it just wasn't a very nice place to do so. Three storeys wasn't too bad, but he couldn't help but think that if he was going to jump off anywhere with that sort of intent he'd pick somewhere much taller. The only thing worse than being the Quirkless loser would be being the Quirkless loser who'd tried to kill himself and failed. No, Izuku was reasonably sure that, no matter what Bakugo had said, he'd gone up there to think.

"I've always wanted to be a Hero, right? Everyone does, I guess," he continued, not looking at any of them, "But I hadn't really done anything about it. If I'd gone into the Entrance Exam like I was, I wouldn't have gotten a single point. So I guess I…I needed to think if I really wanted to be a Hero. And I guess that…I guess that the answer was yes? So I really started training myself, from then."

"Well, I'm pretty glad you did," Ashido said, breaking the quiet. Izuku offered her a small smile.

"Thanks, Ashido."

She waved her hands, grinning at him.

"Ah, c'mon Midori. You kinda saved my life, you might as well call me Mina."

Izuku flailed as best he could, although Ashido- Mina, he guessed- had already looked away. Tsuyu leaned forward and cleared her throat.

"Hatsume was worried about you as well, Midoriya," she said. Izuku blinked at her.

"Hatsume?"

Tsuyu nodded.

"She contacted me to find out what had happened, she said she couldn't get in touch with you. Sounded worried."

"How did she…"

"Oh. Well, apparently she built a device in her first day that records the phone numbers of everyone within a certain radius – about the area of the Support Lab? It's a little bit invasive."

"Is…is that even legal?" Kirishima asked, looking like he was rethinking something. Tsuyu shrugged again.

"Power Loader came on the phone just afterwards, he sounded like he was somewhere between incredibly proud and on the verge of crying. It was quite impressive. I wonder if it reminds him of his earlier days."

Izuku took a moment to consider that. Actually, it made a sick sort of sense. Power Loader had been a firebrand in his early days, and he was paying for it now. The karmic nature of it made it a pleasant theory.

"You know, I wanted to go and talk to some Support people," Kirishima said, "But I'm getting more frightened every time anyone talks about them."

"They aren't that bad," Izuku protested. Tsuyu turned a flat look on him and he shrugged.

"Hatsume is alright."

"I know that you like having someone around to bounce ideas off, Midoriya, but Hatsume is a mad scientist at the best of times. And her classmates let her test her experiments on them. They don't have a single survival instinct between them," Tsuyu said. Izuku opened his mouth. Frowned. Thought about it.

Izuku closed his mouth without saying a word and Tsuyu nodded in a satisfied manner.

"I knew you'd see sense. Try and talk some into Hatsume, maybe, she was already talking about building you a cannon arm."

"A cannon arm would be pretty cool, though," Kirishima said. Tsuyu glanced at him.

"Not built by Hatsume. Her 'babies' have about a forty percent chance of exploding."

Izuku silently looked at his good arm, staring at his fingers to calm his instinctive panic. Kirishima slipped out of his cool pose against the wall, flailing and landing in a heap, and Ashido looked somewhere between horrified and fascinated. Izuku's Mom looked even more alarmed than any of them. Tsuyu, who apparently had no mercy, continued.

"I talked to her for less than twenty minutes to tell her about the USJ, and I heard four separate explosions in the background. I think Power Loader was crying. Really, it's a good thing that you make your own gear, Midoriya."

Izuku silently counted to five- he would have tried ten but he didn't have the fingers to accompany it- and folded his hand into a fist.

"I don't think she would give me something likely to explode," he said, trying to be the sane and reasonable person here, "Just that her prototyping process involves a lot of stress testing."

"It sounds like it's mostly stress testing Power Loader," A- Mina said. Kirishima snorted from the floor, and Tsuyu's poker face cracked for a moment, a smile curling her lips. Izuku caught his Mom's eye and saw her smiling at him.

"I'm so glad you're making friends," she whispered, squeezing his hand, and Izuku sniffed, vision blurring again from tears. That was what it was, wasn't it? Tsuyu, Mina and Kirishima- they hadn't come to check on him out of pity. They had come to check on him because they were worried about him. Izuku blinked hard, the thickening tears smearing the lights into blurs as he wiped at his eyes. None of the three said anything, although he thought there was a knowingness in the looks they were sending him. He sniffed, quietly coughing to clear his throat.

"You know, I've been wanting to ask- Hatsume. She's like, your own personal tech dude…ette. Dudette. Right, so how did that happen? Is there a secret handshake or something?" Mina asked. Izuku sagged.

"I…she stole my notebook."

Mina stared at him before raising a hand and whirling it in a 'and then?' gesture. Izuku flushed, hunching.

"I went to the Support Department to get my equipment checked over because I made it all myself and I didn't want it to fail and she was there and just…grabbed my notebook? And then she found some of it interesting and just declared herself my technician I guess?"

"And then she terrified the rest of her class by testing random experiments on them," Tsuyu added, croaking in an amused way. Izuku covered his face with his hand, but his mumble was just about loud enough to be heard.

"She used one of my experiment designs on someone and they nearly suffocated."

Mina choked on a laugh.

"He…he nearly suffocated?" she wheezed. Izuku nodded sadly.

"Power Loader could barely believe it."

"He just looked resigned to me," Tsuyu helpfully added, putting a finger next to her mouth in a thinking gesture.

"I wonder if the Support Course has more medical problems than the Hero course?"

"Not usually," someone interrupted in a voice that was like tar-soaked gravel, "Because after the first few weeks the survivors are smart enough to take cover, while Hero students keep doing ridiculous things."

Aizawa sauntered through the door, still in his Hero costume. He had a bandage wrapped around his face, but otherwise seemed healed. Mina and Kirishima both straightened as though they would jump to their feet and Aizawa rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, just visiting Midoriya."

Somehow that seemed to make them worry more as he wandered in and turned his gaze onto Izuku. He sighed after a few seconds.

"You mind giving us a few minutes? I won't throw you out, Mrs Midoriya, but this sort of stuff probably isn't great to tell to every student I see."

His classmates quickly stood. To Izuku's surprise, his Mom followed suite.

"I don't want you to hide anything because I'm in the room, dear," she explained, leaning down and hugging him, "So I'll just wait outside."

"Thanks, Mom," Izuku whispered back, offering a wave to his classmates as they left, calling cheerful farewells. Aizawa sighed again when the door clicked shut, wandering over to the wall near the chair Tsuyu had just vacated and leaning against it.

"Sorry to do this so soon, Midoriya," he said, almost sounding sympathetic rather than dead inside, "But it's better to let you know earlier. Recovery Girl told you about the press, right? That they know there's a Quirkless Student in the school?"

Izuku nodded. Aizawa ran a hand through his hair.

"Great. Great. Well, Nedzu told them that it wasn't any of their business, but there are some things that are gonna come out. With your permission, Nedzu wants to draw up a plan to control the release of information…I mean, if you say no he'll probably do it anyway, but he likes to pretend to take other people into account. So we're working on that. The reporter who dropped the info on live air…I'm not gonna ask Nedzu what he's gonna do to her, and I suggest you don't either. Other than that, I need to know if you've got any idea how the information could have leaked."

"Um…when the press broke in a few days ago, wasn't something stolen? They knew the class schedules, so…"

Aizawa nodded.

"Most obvious answer. Good thinking. But no, no files were taken other than the schedule. Maybe someone took a peek, but given that Shigaraki had the power to turn stuff to dust and what happened to the gate…we're guessing he was the infiltrator."

"It seems reckless to send in the leader of an organisation like that," Izuku whispered, Aizawa apparently content to let him work through his thoughts, "Which suggests that he might just be a front-man? He seemed to command a lot of respect, but if the league of villains works like a mafia or other criminal group then he could be a trusted Lieutenant…he acts like a child though, so maybe he's more like muscle, or there's something I'm missing…but his Quirk is powerful, if he encountered any Hero in the halls he would only need a moment of advantage to grab them, so maybe…with the Warper on standby…maybe he's better at planning than I thought, but then why wouldn't he take advantage of the break-in to learn about the students? Tsuyu has an amphibian type Quirk, that doesn't absolutely mean that she's vulnerable to heat, but she mentioned being able to show off better in the water, while Bakugo and Kirishima would be worse off in the Squall Zone and Shipwreck Zone respectively, it would hamper their Quirks. And-"

Izuku cut himself off, blushing brightly under the sardonically thoughtful gaze of his teacher.

"Sorry," he whispered. Aizawa shrugged.

"Don't worry about it. Being able to think things through is important to a Hero. Just try not to get caught up in it like that. Concerning your thoughts…I agree, actually. Shigaraki should have done better. It's a good thing he didn't, but we can't rely on Villains being inexperienced and stupid all the time. We don't think your classmates leaked the information to the press, Shigaraki didn't know student Quirks and even if he did he was almost certainly too busy getting medical attention to do any revenge press work. So who leaked it?"

Aizawa rubbed at his stubble, the faint rasp of calloused fingers against hair filling the room. Izuku leaned back, trying to think who could have said something, and remembered a comment from earlier. He felt his lips twist into a grimace and straightened against his pillow, opening his eyes.

"I…I might know how the reporter knew there was a Quirkless student," Izuku said. Aizawa sank into the visitor chair with a soft sigh, folding his hands in his lap. Dark hair spilled across his teachers face, hiding the lines exhaustion had carved into his visage.

"How?" he asked. Izuku looked down, eyes locking onto his fingers as they clenched the bedsheet.

"My- in middle school, my teacher told everyone that I was applying for U.A. Everyone in my class, that is. And, um, when I got in, he told them again. They all knew I was Quirkless, so…"

"So any one of them could have talked about the Quirkless student. Or anyone they told, anyone they told, anyone- and so on. Alright. Not ideal, but it can't be helped. Not that Principal Nedzu will likely be dissuaded from trying some sort of horrible revenge, but that's none of my business."

Aizawa leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

"So, your middle school. Aldera, right?"

Izuku squinted suspiciously at him. The tone of voice that Aizawa was using was just a little more casual than normal- something was wrong.

"Aldera, yeah," he said, almost whispering. Aizawa nodded, still looking up at the ceiling as though it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

"Bakugo attended the same school, right?"

Oh. Oh. Okay, Izuku had a bit of an idea what this could be about now. To be fair, Kacchan hadn't been subtle in throwing out the whole Deku, Quirkless thing. For a moment Izuku wondered what he should do. If he was being completely fair, trying to give Kacchan the best chance possible, he should give the most ambiguous answers possible. Try to avoid incriminating him in any way, even if it was just 'yeah I was bullied and Bakugo did nothing about it'.

But then again.

Izuku really did believe that Kacchan could be a good Hero. Well, no. Maybe not good. Okay, Izuku really did believe that Bakugo could be a strong Hero. As he'd argued with Yaoyorozu, was being a bit of a dick really an issue when it came to pulling people out of burning buildings? Surely so long as they were out it didn't matter. But then, actions had consequences. In the past ten months, Izuku had started to think that…he'd started to think that it wasn't his job to cover for all the shit Bakugo had done. If Kacchan could prove himself to U.A., then Izuku wouldn't come up and spill everything. If he didn't prove himself…then that wasn't any of Izuku's business, either.

"Yeah," Izuku said, "Kacchan went there as well."

"Kacchan," Aizawa repeated, "That's a cute nickname. What's the one he has for you? Deku, right?"

Izuku didn't flinch, but it was a lot closer than he'd like. At least Aizawa wasn't looking at him. He almost told Aizawa where the nickname came from. An innocent misreading when Bakugo was young, quickly turning into a mocking epithet. Deku. Useless. Because Izuku was Quirkless. His fingers ground the sheet against his leg, the sheet scraping against exposed skin. Aizawa dropped his chin back down, dark eyes locking onto Izuku.

"Yeah. Not as friendly, is it? I guess that's mostly your business, though. Still. You said your teacher told everyone that you were going to U.A.? What did they- your class, I mean- think of a Quirkless student getting into the top Hero school in the country?"

Izuku gritted his teeth and forced the answer out. It came in a soft mumble and Aizawa raised an eyebrow. He didn't need to say that he hadn't heard. Izuku squeezed his fingers together, his hand shaking with the force, and pried his mouth open.

"I don't know. I took a route that I knew would help avoid them all. Only one of them followed me."

"Uh-huh? I take it that he didn't follow you to offer his congratulations."

Izuku sucked his lip in, remembering slamming into the wall, Kacchan snarling in his face, eyes blazing with anger. He remembered his own fury, barely held back, boiling acid in his chest.

"No," Izuku said, "He didn't."

He met Aizawa's gaze. His teacher nodded slowly, brow wrinkling in something like sympathy. Izuku, for a moment, wondered what Aizawa's school life had been like. He'd probably never know. Aizawa sighed, unfolding his hands and crossing them across his chest.

"So, your classmates weren't big fans of the Quirkless. Am I right?"

Izuku shrugged. Aizawa rolled his eyes.

"Alright. I've been a teacher for a couple of years now, I know that kids are like sharks. A hint of blood in the water and they're all over you. So, name-calling. Stolen homework? Graffiti on the desk?"

"And a little bit of beating, when they really felt up to it," Izuku added harshly, a flare of resentment pushing him far enough to speak. Aizawa paused, nodding slowly.

"And a little bit of violence. Alright. I'd like to tell you that something'll be done about it, but I doubt there are records, right? Somehow I doubt your teachers were helpful."

"They all looked the other way," Izuku admitted. He gritted his teeth, almost choking on the next words, but managed to get them out.

"As far as they were concerned, I was Quirkless. I'd never amount to anything. It wasn't their job to look after me…I heard them say that it was for my own good. Letting me know what the world was like for people like me."

Aizawa's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, something ugly flickering in his eyes even though his expression remained unchanged.

"But they didn't do anything else? Didn't accuse you of cheating, or starting fights, or whatever?"

Izuku shook his head.

"If…if they did something like that, it might need to be investigated. And they couldn't be sure that…why would they bother, when they thought that being Quirkless would bar me from anything that would matter?"

Looking back on it, he wondered- the Meta Liberation Army had started with grand ideals, only to devolve into something more like a cult. Might makes Right, Quirk Supremacy, all of that. Izuku was fairly sure that there were still debates over the morality of the MLA. Could there be cells as well? Had he just been unlucky enough to be stuck with a bunch of MLA sympathisers? It seemed unlikely that the odds would turn out that way, but it was always possible. Maybe he should look into that. He was fairly sure that the founder of the Meta Liberation Army had written a book- because that was just the sign of a stable personality, writing your own personal manifesto and then going into the business of regime change via violence- and it was still sold in Japan. Might be interesting to give it a read. Maybe it would help him get a better look into the mindset of his foes.

Because Izuku was under no illusions. The parts of the MLA that remained, the parts that had become Quirk Supremacist organisations, they were never going to look kindly on a Quirkless kid who wanted to be a Hero. When it came down to it…sometimes it was about hitting first and hitting harder. Izuku didn't intend to become a martyr.

"Why would it matter," Aizawa mused, his voice dropping to a low growl. Izuku looked away from him, refusing to meet his teacher's eyes for fear of what he might see there. Aizawa sighed.

"Look, kid. I don't usually say this to anyone- and nobody will believe you if you tell them- but as far as I'm concerned you've got as much right to be a hero as anyone, and more than some. There are a lot of Heroes out there without a strong Quirk, and most of them don't have nearly your level of gear planning. I think you can do it. Just never make me say that again."

Izuku managed a hiccoughing laugh. His teacher, not as harsh as he seemed. Just allergic to positive emotions, apparently. He sniffed, scrubbing his palm under his nose, and looked back at Aizawa.

"Ok, sir. T- thank you."

Aizawa grunted, apparently done with his five minutes of feeling per week. Or per month, depending on how charitable you were. Izuku blinked his eyes clear, waiting, because he suspected that Aizawa had something else to ask.

"Minoru Mineta," the man said, raking a hand through his hair again. Izuku stiffened in his seat, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Aizawa's mouth twisted.

"Recovery Girl came to find me, told you what Asui said. Could you confirm it for me? I'll ask Kirishima, Ashido and Asui too, but a lot of witnesses always helps."

Izuku nodded slowly.

"Tsuyu told us," he said, speaking slowly as he tried to remember, "That she was dropped in the Squall Zone alongside Hagakure and Mineta. There were almost twenty villains there, so Tsuyu and Hagakure knocked out the closest ones and escaped into a building. Tsuyu said that Mineta just…cried. When they were escaping, um, he jumped on Tsuyu's back and, um, grabbed her chest?"

Aizawa leaned forwards and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something. Izuku faintly made out a whisper of 'every couple of years' before Aizawa clamped his lips shut.

"Alright," he said, "Moving on. What do you, personally, think of Mineta? Do you think he'd do something like that? Classmates usually know better than teachers."

Izuku squirmed under the dark gaze, shifting uncomfortably.

"I…he…I've heard him make a few remarks. Especially about Yaoyorozu. He's not really very subtle. But he got into the Hero course, so I didn't think he was a coward, really. But I guess that robots in an exam aren't the same as being attacked by villains, so…I'm sorry, sir. I don't really know."

Aizawa shook his head.

"It's only been a few days. Don't worry about it. Still, U.A. is not in the business of churning out deviants and predators."

Another slow sigh rumbled past his lips.

"Thank you for your input, Midoriya. I…I want to apologise. When Shigaraki attacked you, I…was too slow. I should have cancelled his Quirk before you were injured, but I wasn't fast enough. And for that, I am sorry."

Izuku was about to wave his hand, protest, say it wasn't Aizawa's fault, but when he looked at Aizawa he could see the exhaustion in every line of his face, in the dark glitter of his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. No matter what Izuku said, Aizawa wasn't going to accept it. He wasn't going to accept that it wasn't his fault.

It reminded Izuku of too many people Jason had seen to count, so he bowed his head in return.

"Apology accepted," he said softly, fully aware that he was confirming the guilt Aizawa felt. But Izuku was…Izuku knew, in the depths of his heart, that the absolution Aizawa sought was beyond any power Izuku had to grant.

I sort of miss the early days of Empress Ascendant, when I could throw together a six thousand word chapter that was about ninety-seven percent bad jokes and overdramatic fight scenes and call it a day. These days it's all emotions and logical consequences and attempts at setting up character development and it's much harder work. That said, it's a lot more fulfilling.

Let's just remember that the closest thing to a role model that Izuku currently has is Jason Todd who, in this version of Injustice, had the chance to evac and get medical attention and instead decided to trust that Damian was actually redeeming himself and stay to face certain death for the chance to get a shot at Superman.

Any parallels between that and Izuku hoping that Bakugo will get over himself and become a great hero are honestly unintentional, but I kinda like it now that I've noticed them. And on that note, Bakugo. I...find him insufferable, especially in the first season of MHA. He's just a real dick basically all of the time, and I pretty much resent that the show tries to make us feel sorry for him about three episodes after he tells Izuku to kill himself and then just doesn't care about it. That said, I think he still deserves his shot at redemption- and there's probably a whole essay to be written regarding my views on redemption and forgiveness and the difference therein, but it's too late in the night to do that now. Same goes for Mineta, by the way- creepy little lech, but deserves a chance to grow up and knock it off.

With that being that, I guess all there is to say is...well, it's a few days late, but Merry Christmas everyone, I hope you had a good one. As always, I'll see you in the next chapter.