As ever, I hope you enjoy.
Monday morning dawned much like any other Monday, just with a missing arm. Izuku found himself a corner on the train, almost unconsciously keeping his left side against the wall of the carriage. Nobody paid him any attention, his uniform covered with a grey hoody that he'd found in his wardrobe. There was still a mob of reporters camped in front of the gates, but the disguise he'd used the first time, a bored General Studies student, held just as well as it ever had, with his left sleeve tucked into a pocket of the hoody to hide the missing portion.
"Midoriya!"
Izuku cringed at the loud voice, hunching down and looking around. Fortunately it looked like Iida hadn't drawn the attention of the ever-hungry press outside. Still, when Izuku changed his course to head over to Iida and Uraraka he made sure that his path still took him further away from the gate. Uraraka waved, her kind face etched with concern.
"Hey, are you ok? Should you even be here? Is your arm alright, we didn't know if-"
Izuku probably could have handled it better than wriggling out of his hoody and folding it over his right arm, but he just wasn't sure how to delicately broach the subject. Uraraka made a sort of horrified squeak. Izuku ducked as Iida chopped his hand at the air, seemingly without thinking.
"It's, um, it's been better," he offered, waving his stump. He was wearing his blazer, but he'd pinned up the sleeve to stop it from flopping around, making the missing part of his limb unfortunately obvious.
"Is it safe for you to continue on the path of the hero?" Iida asked. It was…incredibly blunt…but Izuku was sure that it came from a place of good will. Iida struck him as someone who, actually, wasn't all that well socialised.
God, the class was full of them. He wondered if he could convince Kirishima to take on Iida as his next project, after he either civilised Kacchan or gave up in despair and fear. Too dark for Monday morning, maybe.
"I doubt it'll be safe," Izuku managed, "But I'll do it anyway."
Iida looked embarrassed, his brow wrinkling.
"Of course! My apologies, Midoriya!" he barked out. He even bowed. Izuku could feel the flush crawling up his cheeks as he waved his hand.
"No, no, don't worry about it, it's really kind of you to be worried. What about the two of you, were you okay after the USJ? I haven't really heard that much about what happened."
A little bit of a lie, given that he'd been in contact with Mina and Tsuyu over the weekend, but it would distract Iida. Izuku felt a wash of relief as the attention was taken off him, Iida beginning to lament that his role was to escape and warn the teachers, a role that he somehow felt was dishonourable. Oh good, another hero complex. Izuku was feeling like his role in the class was being infringed on.
At least he'd always have the gimmick of being Quirkless, he consoled himself.
Uraraka was talking enthusiastically with Iida, but Izuku couldn't help but notice that she was giving him glances from the corner of her eye, as though checking that he was alright. He supposed it made a little bit of sense- maybe she was more sensitive to someone losing limbs, since her Quirk was focused in her fingertips? Either way, he resolved, he might have to talk to her. Losing an arm was…okay, it wasn't ideal, but it wasn't going to be the end of the world. He'd already gotten his hand on a plan for the arm he'd eventually have, and he'd planned out a number of upgrades that should work just fine and possibly make him even better at being a Hero.
Yep, Izuku was feeling optimistic today, despite it being a Monday. It was all good and fine and his mood brightened even more as they came around the corner to the classroom and found Mina waiting for them. She waved enthusiastically.
"Hey, you three!"
"Hey, Mina," Izuku said, his greeting almost buried under the other two. Mina beamed at him.
"Hey, Midori. Everything going well? You said you'd let me and Tsu know how the surgery had gone, but you didn't get in touch again."
"Oh," Izuku said, flushing, "Sorry. I, um, I was sort of sedated for most of the weekend. Recovery Girl said that it would help? I only got home yesterday and I spent most of it sleeping."
"Ah," Mina said, nodding, "Makes sense."
"Wait," Uraraka said, chopping her hands in an x, "Surgery? Midoriya?"
Izuku rubbed at the back of his head, smiling in an embarrassed fashion.
"O-oh, yeah. Sorry. I needed to get some surgery done on my arm, so I can get a prosthetic. It's like a…like an implant, in the stump, that'll connect my nerves to the prosthetic? It takes a few days to heal, Recovery Girl said, but the operation went well so it should be alright to get a basic prosthetic today, actually. I'm supposed to head to the infirmary after classes."
Uraraka waved her hands in the air and Iida smiled in a way that was stern, but pleased. Izuku wondered if, like Yaoyorozu, Iida had considered a career in teaching. No, he was the child of a whole lineage of Heroes. He'd probably never even considered doing something else.
"That is excellent news, Midoriya," he said, "Although I was under the impression that it would take longer for a prosthetic to be created? Each one is personal, of course."
"Ah, yeah," Izuku said, letting Mina lead the way into the classroom, "Apparently it's easier if you're, um, you're Quirkless? A lot of the time needed for prosthetics is making sure that they work with a Quirk- like, Ectoplasm has prosthetic legs, but apparently it took almost a year to get them to the point that his cloning Quirk could properly replicate them? And with strength Quirks, or something like Endeavour has, it's even harder."
For a moment Izuku wondered if All Might had considered replacement organs. Technological organs might be an answer, although they might not be able to withstand the force of All Might's Quirk. But then, what about stem cell organ cloning, or even 3-D organ printing? Was the danger of a transplant too high? Was there a Quirk issue?
Was medical technology here unable to provide replacement organs as he remembered from Jason's memories? Izuku filed the thoughts away for later research. He wasn't sure he could remember enough to replicate something like that, but maybe he could put together some sort of team- or find some people already working on it- and try to help them with what he could remember. Better to return to his conversation now.
"But I don't have any problems like that, it's just the time needed for my nerves to acclimate. Probably a few weeks, although I wonder how closely the weight is calculated…if the arm was much stronger than my flesh arm, what sort of impact would it have? Would I be able to properly manage my strength, or would my nervous system be slightly off when judging the strength of my strikes? Even then, would it damage my shoulder, since that's baseline human as well? What would be the maximum limit for strength in my arm, since it isn't too large, and mechanics are largely inferior to Quirks? Would it be possible to create a whole exoskeleton, linked to my nervous system through the prosthetic, that-"
"Breathe, Midori," Mina said, tapping him on the shoulder, "We aren't going anywhere."
Izuku sucked in a lungful of air, rubbing nervously at his collarbone with his hand. Yeah. Yeah, probably better to save that for later. Hatsume would probably love the idea of building an exoskeleton armour capable of throwing down with powerfully Quirked people, although he made a mental note to get some extra supervision when building something like that. Nothing against Power Loader, but the man had probably been as crazy as Hatsume once to get into his current position.
"So, your prosthetics. Do you have a projected time of recovery?" Iida prompted. Izuku nodded.
"Um…I think Recovery Girl said about three or four weeks for the initial prosthetic- that'll be a really simple one- to settle in so that my nerves are working properly again, then maybe two months before my coordination and reflexes are completely back to what they were with my flesh arm. So I should be fine in time for the final exams."
"Aww, but you'll probably miss the Sports Festival!" Uraraka interjected. Izuku wondered if he should just outright state that he didn't really mind that much- the Sports Festival was good and all, but he wasn't really looking for fame and recognition. And, more importantly, it always ended in a series of single combats in a flat, open, featureless arena. Izuku could think of positions that would put him more at a disadvantage, but not many. Even the thought of trying to face down someone like Todoroki without either cover or his gear brought a cold shudder to the back of his neck. Even if he hadn't lost an arm that was a losing proposition. And worse, he might have ended up facing Kacchan. There would be no way that would end well.
"I doubt that the Sports Festival will still take place," Iida said, shaking his head, "After the attack at the USJ, the Sports Festival would be a prime target for a repeat! And especially with the injuries inflicted, it would make sense to call the Festival off, or at least delay it."
"But what about the other two years? They didn't get attacked, and there'll probably be tons of Heroes there," Uraraka argued. Iida frowned.
"Yes, a good point."
A growl from the corridor drew all their attention as Bakugo stomped around the corner and into the classroom. Kirishima, only steps behind him, shrugged at them. Mina moved to talk quietly to him, but Izuku couldn't quite hear them as they all made their way into the classroom and took their seats. Bakugo sneered at Izuku as he walked past, but didn't say anything.
From what Izuku had heard, Kacchan had tried to take on the Nomu himself and gotten flattened in an instant. Maybe it would humble him. Izuku tried to relax into his seat as the rest of the class filed in, talking quietly among themselves, although most of them offered him a greeting, seeming glad to see him in good health. He was listening as their conversations started up again- he didn't quite catch all that Sero said, but he heard Mineta wailing about how frightening it was. It didn't surprise Izuku in the slightest when Bakugo leapt to his feet and spun around, slamming his palms onto Izuku's desk. At least there wasn't any explosion.
"Listen here you grape fuck, if you don't shut your mouth-"
"Alright, quiet down," Aizawa said, strolling into the room and taking his place at his desk. Izuku heard Mineta whimper as Bakugo angrily subsided but kept his eyes on Aizawa. Aizawa's dark eyes swept across them, gaze tired- the bandage from the last time Izuku had seen him was gone.
"Good to see that you all came back," he started, his voice slightly less gravelly than normal, "If you run at the first sight of danger you aren't fit to be heroes. Courage is important, because your fight isn't over yet."
Izuku saw Kacchan thrum with expectant violence and heard Mineta barely choke back a sob. Christ, that little bastard was starting to wear on his nerves. You would think he'd been the one to lose a limb, the way he was moaning.
Was Izuku being unfair to someone who was, admittedly, only fifteen and probably didn't have any prior experience in life-threatening situations? Maybe. Did Izuku care? Absolutely not. If Mineta wanted to be a hero, he needed to get his act together. And, extrapolating what Aizawa was looking at from his eyeline, it had better be quick. Aizawa leaned forwards, a look that could only be described as malevolent in his eyes.
"After all, the U.A. Sports Festival is nearly here."
Someone fell off their chair. Aizawa grinned, a thin thing that had far too many teeth. Even being around him was starting to give Izuku emotional whiplash, although he was fairly certain that Aizawa just liked messing with people.
"That's a super normal event," Kirishima croaked, sounding like he'd been through a complete emotional journey. Aizawa's grin turned to a smirk.
"I wouldn't call an event bigger than the Olympic Games normal, but sure. Call it that."
"Wait," interrupted Kaminari, "Is it, like, safe?"
"Yeah," Jirou added, "What if villains attack again? It'd even be televised!"
Aizawa shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"Apparently the school board feels that holding the Festival demonstrates the efficacy of our crisis management system," he said, the words sounding almost painfully rehearsed, "And security will be five times heavier than normal. Besides that, the Sports Festival is an unrivalled chance for all of you."
Aizawa's gaze shifted away from whatever poor person had been its previous victim and rested on Izuku. Izuku didn't cringe under the stare, although something shrivelled in his chest at being the target of those basilisk eyes.
"It's the largest sporting event in Japan," Aizawa continued evenly, "And for all of you who want to get a head-start on being noticed by the public and top heroes, this is your best chance. You've only got three Sports Festivals to make a splash, so if you're really set on going Pro…your path starts here."
All around the class whispered, and a sick, empty feeling settled in Izuku's stomach. Somehow, he hadn't thought that…it seemed counterproductive for someone who intended to be an Underground Hero to show off all of their skills out in the open. In fact, it seemed like the whole game was rigged. But there was subtlety, and there was obscurity, and Izuku didn't want to fade into the second. But with only one arm, without his gear, could he even accomplish anything? Aizawa, still looking at him, cleared his throat.
"If you're really serious about this…make sure not to slack on your preparations. Homeroom is dismissed- except you, Mineta. I want a word."
Izuku was the first to look away, squeezing his eyes shut before dragging them open again and walking out of the room. So the deck was stacked against him, again.
What was one more time?
Izuku would have liked to say that he didn't fret through every lesson until lunch, but he absolutely fretted through every lesson until lunch. He knew the basic layout of the Festival: two events that were randomly chosen to thin out the herd, so to speak, and then a series of one against one arena combats.
Boy, Izuku loved bloodsports.
But that raised far too many uncomfortable questions. Would he be able to beat anybody in his class with an arm missing? He didn't think that his prosthetic would be on a level that would really help, it might even just hinder him by being more fragile. If he couldn't take any gear with him…would he even be able to reach the third round? To say that he was worried was an understatement, although at least he had three weeks. When the bell rang to signal the start of lunch Izuku remained in his seat, frozen in place. He was only broken out of his stupor when Tsuyu put a hand on his shoulder, her brow bearing the faintest wrinkles of concern.
"You alright there, Midoriya?"
Idly Izuku wondered why she still called him Midoriya while being insistent on being called Tsuyu. He blinked again, shaking his head.
"I…yeah. Just lost in my head. Thanks."
"No problem," she murmured, watching while he stood. The rest of the class was venting their pent-up excitement about the Sports Festival, and Izuku felt concern thicken in his stomach.
"Worried, Midoriya?" Tsuyu asked, far too perceptive as usual. Izuku looked down, clearing his throat.
"I just…this is important, and I don't know if I can even compete. Even if I had two arms, how am I supposed to match up to people like Todoroki, or Kirishima, or you? I'm not…I've got nothing, really. And I don't know how people will react to a Quirkless student, what if it's announced and the crowd all start to boo? What if I get expelled because a petition is drawn up against me? What if-"
"Midoriya!"
Izuku sucked in a breath, forcibly calming down. Tsuyu looked worried.
"When I asked if you were alright, I didn't expect that," she admitted. She tapped at her mouth before nodding.
"Kirishima!"
Kirishima strolled over.
"Yeah, Tsuyu?"
"Midoriya's halfway to a panic attack. Help me talk him down."
Izuku laughed, only a little hysterically. Kirishima frowned, genuine concern flooding his face.
"Damn. You alright, Mido? You're looking kinda pale."
"He's worried that he won't be able to compete at the Sports Festival," Tsuyu said, well-meaning traitor that she was. Kirishima made a soft noise of comprehension.
"Ah. Yeah, alright. Hey, Mido. You still with us, man?"
Izuku dragged in a slow, deep breath, holding it for a few heartbeats, and slowly nodded as he let it out. Kirishima made a move as though he was about to put his hand on Izuku's shoulder, but aborted it at the last moment.
"Alright. You're worried about the Festival, right? You know you'd probably rock most of us if you were in top condition? Man, I wouldn't want to take you on."
Izuku shook his head.
"I just…all I'll have is my skills. It's always the same, a tiny arena. How am I supposed to…you've all got such strong Quirks."
Kirishima snorted, though he was smiling.
"I thought you said that Quirks weren't everything, Midoriya. Look. I know Aizawa was talking about, you know, this is your chance, this is important. But really, how much attention usually gets paid to the First Years? I mean, maybe we'll get some more, thanks to the USJ, but we won't be the most exciting thing on the field. You'll have two years after to take us all down."
"Besides," Tsuyu added dryly, "If you're worried about taking on someone like Todoroki or Yaoyorozu, you aren't alone."
Kirishima laughed.
"Aw, hell yeah. Taking on Todoroki- I'm shivering at the thought! Man, not having a plan right now isn't anything to be ashamed of. We've got three weeks to go, I'll still bet on you three weeks from now."
Izuku sniffed, scrubbing his arm across his face, but he was smiling.
"I…yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks, Kirishima, Tsuyu."
"No sweat, man."
"No problem, ribbit. But…you said something about a petition. I…"
Tsuyu hesitated, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. Izuku let out a watery chuckle.
"I…yeah. There's, um, there's been a bit of an upswell in anti-Quirkless statement directed towards U.A. There's, um, there've been three hit pieces that are trending on social media."
Kirishima's smile creased into a snarl.
"Hit pieces?" he growled, "Unbelievable. Just because they couldn't get into U.A. themselves, they think they can just talk crap about someone who did? Practically villains themselves."
Izuku shook his head.
"Leave it, Kirishima. They…people can think what they want," he said, straightening his back and sniffing, steeling himself now that he was past his moment of self-doubt and fear. Kirishima didn't look convinced, but he contented himself with folding his arms and shaking his head. They were all distracted by a growling scream from the other side of the room- for a moment Izuku was convinced that Aizawa was secretly the headman for a heavy metal band and they'd walked into one of his practices.
"Everyone!" Uraraka roared, an absolutely demonic look contorting her gentle features, "I'm going to do my best!"
Izuku, having recently come into possession of a healthy self-preservation instinct, eyed the closest chair and then the closest window. It probably wouldn't go through, but how would he know if he didn't try? Tsuyu stepped on his foot.
"Jumping out the window isn't safer than going past Uraraka, ribbit."
Izuku eyed Uraraka, who was now getting the rest of the class worked up via indiscriminate application of absolute existential terror.
"I don't know, if I fall only my body will be in danger. Uraraka is probably threatening our souls."
Tsuyu tucked a finger against her lips, thinking.
"You may have a point there."
"I might be able to break the window if I push my Quirk to the limit," Kirishima helpfully added. Izuku sized him up, nodding. Now that he was focused on something else his heartbeat began to slow, his mind returning to a more even keel. He still needed to talk to Hatsume and probably Aizawa, if he was going to try the Sports Festival, but he wasn't sure if he would even be allowed to compete. For the moment he had to escape the classroom without being consumed by the cult that Uraraka seemed intent on creating.
"Hey, Tsuyu."
Izuku, Kirishima and Tsuyu all turned as the voice interrupted their plotting. Somewhere deep inside Izuku was amused to note that Kirishima began to loom menacingly the moment he saw Mineta, standing near to them. Distantly, because Izuku was suddenly tempted to see if he could break the window with Mineta. Tsuyu's expression turned hard and closed off.
"You call me Asui," she said, her tone even, but Izuku could detect irritation in it. Mineta snuffled, waving his hands. Izuku wasn't about to criticise someone for crying at the drop of a hat, but the display of cowardice- or possibly attempted manipulation- seemed to sit poorly with Kirishima, who stepped closer to Mineta before Tsuyu wrapped her tongue around his arm and pulled him back.
"Aww, come on, Kirishima! Think about her, in her costume, it's so tight, any man would-"
"Stop talking," Izuku interrupted, "Right now."
There was no way he was scarier than Tsuyu or Kirishima. He was barely taller than Tsuyu, almost as slight, no Quirk, one armed, his freckled face better described as cute than intimidating, and yet Mineta almost choked as his mouth snapped shut. Izuku stared at him before gently massaging the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.
"If you've got something to say to me," Tsuyu said, "Just say it."
Mineta swallowed noisily, sniffing.
"I…I'm sorry. For not helping you at the USJ, and for groping you, and it won't happen again."
The first part, at least, sounded sincere. The second part…Izuku wouldn't bet his other arm on it. He opened his eyes again to see that Mineta was staring hopefully at Tsuyu. Izuku would have liked to say that Mineta's gaze was directed at Tsuyu's chest because of his short height- he was probably under five feet tall- but he wasn't feeling charitable.
"Good," Tsuyu said, "Now if that's all, ribbit, I have lunch to get to. Come on, Midoriya, Kirishima."
As they walked away from a flabbergasted Mineta, probably already tearing up with crocodile tears, Izuku only said one thing.
"You know, Tsuyu, you can call me Izuku if you want."
If there was anything to say for the rest of the day, it was that Izuku was less worried than the rest of it. Or, at least, he was less worried for the Sports Festival. He was still fairly concerned about talking to Hatsume. He didn't think that she'd mean any harm, but…he didn't want to end up with a bomb strapped to his arm.
Or at least, not one he didn't put there himself. Was that idea incredibly reckless? Yes. Would it be incredibly cathartic to see some villain who had torn off his prosthetic explode from a hidden bomb? Also, very much yes. Either way, Izuku managed to pay more attention all the way through the day, until the final bell rang. Uraraka was the first up- from what he'd heard almost everyone was planning to head to one of the training grounds for a few hours of, well, training, and she was one of the most fired up about it. Izuku, half turning in his seat to pick up his bag, had an excellent view of the way she froze as she opened the door, and the reason.
"Oh, that's quite a crowd," Tsuyu noted, just loudly enough for Izuku to hear from across the room. Izuku heard a low growl rumble from Kacchan's throat as he rose- Izuku looked longingly at the window.
"What are you all doing here?" Iida asked aloud, chopping his hand through the air as he did so. Bakugo made a mocking noise.
"Isn't it obvious, Four-Eyes?" he asked, "They're here to scope out the competition."
Kacchan strolled up to the door, his chin dipping. Izuku knew, from personal experience, that it made Kacchan's bangs shadow part of his face, his crimson eyes glaring bloodily from the shadows, his teeth bright and sharp in a wolfish grin. Intentional or not it was extremely intimidating, and several of the crowd shrank away from Kacchan.
"It's a waste of time," he said, his tone smoothing from a growl to a sort of mocking murmur, "Extras like you…you'll never amount to anything. Cheat and sneak around all you like, you'll always be cut-rate background characters."
Holy shit. Was Bakugo trying to start a fight? Actually, Izuku silently encouraged him. Seeing Kacchan get stomped out by a pack of rabid General Studies students would absolutely make Izuku's day.
One day, he'd get therapy. One day, he'd try to get over his issues.
Today was not that day.
"You know," a new person interrupted, sauntering through the crowd, "I just came here to see the famous Class 1-A. But you seem pretty arrogant, and I'm not a fan of that."
A tall, lanky boy with a shock of purple hair and a jaded, exhausted expression edged through the crowd, standing just inches away from Bakugo. Bakugo bristled- Izuku thought that even his hair spiked further, like the hair on the back of a particularly vicious dog.
"What are you saying?" Kacchan asked, some of the snarl back in his voice. Izuku mentally began going through hostage negotiation tactics in his head as Tsuyu and Kirishima came to stand next to him, Mina joining them a moment later.
"Think we should take the window, ribbit?"
"Let's see how this plays out," Kirishima muttered, before biting his lip, "Though I can take hits best. I should head over, in case I need to intervene."
"Good luck," Izuku muttered. Kirishima fist-bumped him before heading forwards.
"I'm just saying," the student confronting Bakugo said, "If all the Hero Course students are like this then it's pretty disillusioning. You know, there are quite a few people in the other courses because they didn't make it into the Hero Course."
Izuku didn't need to see Bakugo's face to know that he was sneering. The other student continued without missing a beat.
"But, we've still got a chance. See, depending on the results of the Sports Festival, we might get a transfer. And it would seem to me, that…Hero students might also be transferred out."
Izuku felt a pulse of ice wrap around his heart, barely hearing the words that followed.
"So, don't think of this as a scouting expedition. Think of it…as a declaration of war."
Some maniac from Class 1-B broke the tension as Izuku pulled himself together, taking careful breaths, all too aware of Tsuyu and Mina taking careful glances at him. Bakugo shook his head, shouldering through the crowd, and Kirishima called out to him.
"Hey, Bakugo! You aren't gonna say anything, after getting everyone all riled up like that?"
Bakugo glanced back, with a blank expression that didn't suit him at all.
"It doesn't matter," he said, his eyes glittering with some emotion that Izuku couldn't quite place, "They can yap all they like. I don't listen to the words of the weak."
"You know," Mina said, "If he wasn't so insufferable he'd be kinda cool."
Izuku laughed shakily.
"Yeah, that's…that's Kacchan. He's, um, he's got a lot of personality."
Tsuyu, who was eyeing the door Bakugo had walked through with an expressionless gaze, made a soft humming noise.
"He's got no fear, I'll say that. Are you going to see Hatsume, Izuku?"
Izuku shook his head. His first name sounded odd coming from someone other than his Mom, but it wasn't unpleasant.
"I need to go to the infirmary first, to get my arm looked at. I can meet you on the training field later?"
"We'll come with you, Midori," Mina said cheerfully, "Moral support is what friends are for. Come on. Kiri! You coming with us?"
The crowd of students outside hadn't dispersed, but they were less closely packed now that Bakugo had shoved through them and they stepped aside further as Izuku and his friends walked through in a single block. Izuku felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as they walked through the stares, silently grateful that Mina and Kirishima had taken his left side, close enough that his missing arm would be hidden. This was no place to be looking vulnerable. They headed through the corridors and out, towards the infirmary.
"So, where are we going?" Kirishima asked, and Izuku belatedly realised that nobody had actually told Kirishima.
"Um, I need to go the infirmary, to get my initial prosthetic sorted. You can head to the training field if you like, Kirishima."
Kirishima laughed, shaking his head.
"Nah, don't worry about it! Moral support, you know?"
Mina and Kirishima fist-bumped immediately afterwards and Tsuyu let out a croaking chuckle.
"Looks like you're stuck with us, Izuku."
"Yeah," Izuku muttered, although he was smiling, "I guess so."
Izuku didn't say anything more as they continued, content to listen to the chatter. Mina, in particular, was impressed that Mineta had managed something that sounded like a sincere apology.
"Mr Aizawa must have put the fear of God into him," she exuberantly said, "To get the little perv to pay attention. All I could hear during the Quirk Assessment on the first day was him drooling over Yaoyorozu, it was disgusting."
Kirishima made a faint noise of disapproval and Mina nodded.
"I know. And sure, her costume is a bit much, but he doesn't have to be like that. He could at least try to have some self-control."
"I'm pretty sure Mineta considers looking and not touching a lot of self-control, ribbit."
"God damnit," Mina muttered, before speaking more loudly, "If he keeps his shit up I'll be tempted to switch to a costume like Midori's. At least then he'd have nothing to drool over- and it might not be stylish but it's still pretty cool!"
"Is that a compliment?" Izuku whispered to Tsuyu, who shrugged.
"Take it as one."
Well, that was fair enough. They reached the infirmary a few minutes later, with Mina and Kirishima still deep in discussion about costume design and whether armour was more important than style. Izuku found it a little bit fascinating, in all honesty, and regretted having to leave it behind to head into the infirmary.
"We'll wait here, Izuku," Tsuyu said, leaning against the wall. Mina and Kirishima both waved and Izuku took a deep breath, proceeding into the room. Recovery Girl spun around on her chair and beamed at him.
"Oh, hello dear! You're very prompt. Take a seat on the bed, there, and we'll get started in a minute. Don't want to leave your friends waiting for too long."
Izuku awkwardly eased himself up onto the bed, struggling only slightly to boost himself with his one arm. Recovery Girl watched him critically, nodding.
"Alright, dear, take off your blazer and shirt and we'll get started."
She reached into a box on her desk and carefully pulled out a skeletal limb that looked like it was straight out of Star Wars. She must have seen his staring, because she chuckled.
"I know, the designer barely avoided a lawsuit. Still, it works very well, and that's what matters most! Now, the way this works. The port surgically connected to your arm has four connecters that fit into this prosthetic, that'll connect your nerves. There's a degree of technology involved- if you get caught in an EMP or something you'll lose all function in this arm. The complete prosthetic won't be as bad, there'll be some mechanical sections that'll maintain function, but my advice is, well, don't get caught in an EMP. The actual arm is built from a titanium composite. I hear some support companies are looking into plastics, but there's not that much research done yet."
Izuku shrugged his way out of his shirt, letting it pool around his waist where it was still tucked into his trousers, and Recovery Girl made her way up to him.
"Luckily this sort of thing is practically idiot proof, easy to install. You'll feel a bit of a shock, dear- don't be afraid to give a yelp."
Maybe Recovery Girl liked to underestimate. Maybe Izuku had developed a low pain tolerance in the last few days, but he wouldn't call a jolt that went from the end of his stump to roughly his knees 'a bit of a shock'. Izuku ground his teeth to keep back the yelp and Recovery Girl clucked her tongue.
"Young Heroes, so macho. Give it a minute."
Izuku blinked, the jolt having brought tears to his eyes, and carefully opened his mouth.
"Is it going to do that again?"
Recovery Girl beamed at him.
"Oh, probably not! Now then, can you lift your arm?"
Probably not? Izuku didn't really like the sound of that. Still…how was he meant to lift his arm? Did it just work like it had before? Was there some particular method of getting his nerves back in line? What if his nerves had connected wrongly, what-
"Don't overthink it, dear," Recovery Girl interrupted, "Not that your rambling isn't adorable, but we don't have all day."
She tapped her cane on the ground, thinking.
"Hmm. Here, catch."
She tossed a roll of bandages at him and Izuku arms came up in an attempt to catch. He completely fumbled it of course, his right arm coming close before cool metal knocked it away and sent the bandages spilling onto the floor, but…
"It moved," he whispered. Recovery Girl chuckled warmly.
"It did, didn't it? Now, dear, lift your arm to shoulder height. We'll check how fine a motion you can manage afterwards."
Slowly, eyes locked on the limb, Izuku straightened his arm out. Lifting it was his shoulder, of course, but straightening the artificial elbow was…bizarre. There was nothing there, no sense, almost like he'd been sleeping on his arm and numbed it. At Recovery Girl's direction he slowly rotated his arm, turning his wrist and elbow. Recovery Girl hummed, placing her cane under the forearm…his forearm.
"Now your fingers, Midoriya. Usually this is where the most delays are found. Can you make a fist?"
Izuku had never really thought about how exactly his fingers worked. It didn't even take much thought to move his fingers, it was just…automatic. There wasn't any impression or feeling to rely on. He frowned, flexing the fingers on his right hand, trying to replicate it. There was a noticeable delay, and then the prosthetic fingers curled in like the legs of a dying spider.
"Hmm, about a second of delay. A little below average, that's good. Now, can you unfold them again?"
Unfolding every finger, making a fist, touching his thumb to the tip of each finger, Izuku ran through a series of exercises. The delay remained, just under a second every time, and a faint, phantom ache began in his arm. Recovery Girl tutted sympathetically when he told her about it.
"It's not uncommon as your nerves begin to adjust. So long as you stick to relatively low levels of use it'll pass. It looks like the connection has been successful, although we'll still do check-ups every second day. Now, the arm doesn't need to be detached or recharged or anything like that: the battery in it is good for five years, I'm told. However, putting too much stress on the limb will damage the implant and the nervous connection. If you do something reckless, like have the arm torn off, or twisted too badly, or anything like that, you'll need a whole second surgery to repair the implant and reconnect the nerves. It'll set your recovery back by weeks, maybe even months."
Izuku swallowed, carefully pulling his shirt back on.
"And…the Sports Festival?"
Recovery Girl let out a deep sigh.
"I…I know how much the Festival means to your year, dear. I won't tell you that you definitely won't be able to compete, because I don't want to underestimate you. But it's in three weeks time. That's the very lowest end of the estimate for when you'll replace this first prosthetic- this one is far too fragile for you to compete. But I don't want to lie to you either: it's unlikely that you'll be able to compete."
Izuku felt metal scrape at his throat and collarbone, his hand moving without conscious thought. Suddenly he realised that he didn't have any feeling in the prosthetic, the only way he could even tell that he'd given in to the strange tick of rubbing at his throat was the feel of metal against his skin, and he blinked hard to clear the gathering tears.
"I know," he said quietly, "I didn't think…but I still want to try. I don't want to be…left behind."
Recovery Girl sighed, her brow wrinkling with concern.
"Of course you don't, dear. We won't say anything for certain now, we'll keep checking on you until the last moment. But if you can't compete, it isn't your fault and nobody should hold it against you."
Should, she said. Izuku noticed that, nodding slowly. They shouldn't, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be cruelty, in the people who would say that he shouldn't be in the Hero course at all, or the people who would want to take his place. And yet, when it came to it…did Izuku regret losing his arm? Yes. Yes, of course he did. But did he regret losing his arm to save Mina?
No. And he never would. It had been…it had been the right thing to do. That was all that mattered.
"Thank you," he told Recovery Girl, sliding to his feet. It was easier to put his blazer back on, carefully cutting the stitches that had held it up with a small pair of scissors she loaned him. The nurse nodded to him, smiling gently.
"Not a problem, dearie. Now get back to your friends- I'm sure they're waiting for you."
Izuku smiled at her and walked out of the room, back to where Mina and Kirishima were playing some sort of word game and Tsuyu was watching with dry amusement. Mina was the first one to notice him.
"Midori! Hey, you're there. You got the arm?"
Izuku lifted his left arm, fingers flexing in a stilted manner. Mina gasped.
"Aw, that's cool as hell. Is it always gonna look like that?"
Izuku shook his head, folding the silver-white digits into a loose fist.
"The final version will be, um, more like an actual arm? The only real difference will be the colour. But this is just to get my nerves working properly again."
"Does that mean you'll be in the Sports Festival?" Kirishima asked, leaning in to see better. Izuku shook his head.
"I- Recovery Girl said she wasn't sure. If this gets damaged, it could cause nerve damage, and it'll take months to recover. But if I recover quickly enough to have the full prosthetic before the Festival, I can compete. I, um, I guess it would be better…but if I can't, at least I'm going to be an Underground Hero. Popularity isn't really the important thing, there."
"And Mr Aizawa is an Underground Hero, right?" Tsuyu chipped in, "If you need someone to give you internship he might be able to help you with that, ribbit."
"Yeah," Izuku said, "Hopefully."
He adjusted his bag on his back, only using his right arm to make sure that he didn't stumble with anything, and smiled at his friends. It must have been convincing, because none of them commented. Instead Kirishima pumped his fist into the air.
"Alright then! Let's head on over to the Training Grounds and get some training in! Actually, Mido, how well can you train? What sort of training do you do, because it's working pretty great!"
Izuku shrugged.
"I- mostly I do some parkour, and a set of exercises. Push-ups, sit-ups, running, all of that sort of thing. I don't think...it's sort of tailored for someone like me? I did a lot of research for it."
Kirishima looked impressed.
"Ah, really? That's cool."
Izuku nodded.
"I've been doing my best to keep up with it even after the USJ. Actually, it's a bit easier...I struggled with one-handed chin-ups before, but I guess I've lost some weight recently."
There was silence for a few seconds as Izuku realised what he'd just said, broken only by Mina's soft 'Oh my God, Midori,' before she started laughing. Izuku buried his red face in the crook of his arm and Kirishima slapped him on the back, chuckling.
"Don't worry about it, man! You'll be back to full strength in no time, and we'll all help you if you need it!"
They were all very kind. Izuku was almost tempted to just go with them, but there was something else that he needed to do.
"Ah, I'll see you all there later. I've got to go talk to Hatsume about my gear. And hopefully stop her from building anything too insane to add to my arm…"
"You sure you don't want us to come with you? Hatsume is a handful, ribbit."
Izuku smiled.
"Thanks, but I don't want to interrupt your training. I won't take long! Besides, Power Loader has a tranquiliser. I'll be okay."
Kirishima held out a closed fist, and Izuku awkwardly bumped his fist against it.
"Go for it, man! Besides, all that gear you use, it's like this is your training too, right? We'll see you later, right Mina?"
Mina gave Izuku a thumbs-up and nodded enthusiastically, and Izuku said his farewells and headed off. He walked quickly through the corridors now that he was alone, heading directly to the labs. There were no explosions on this visit, although the walls still had scorch marks. It wasn't certain to be Hatsume's fault, but somehow the thoughts of the rest of the Support Course being nearly as crazed as Hatsume wasn't very reassuring. He reached the door and knocked loudly, just to warn anyone within.
"Come in!" Power Loader called, and Izuku carefully slid the door open and stepped inside.
"Hey, um, everyone."
"Greeny!" Hatsume shouted from across the room, waving. Her other hand remained still and down, holding a welding torch that was carefully shielded, her face hidden by a welders mask. Izuku wasn't sure that a tank-top was the best outfit for that sort of thing, but he guessed that the mask was good enough. Power Loader walked over, a wide smile coming onto his face.
"Midoriya! Good to see you here again!" he boomed, leaning down a little. He wasn't a tall man, even if he was taller than Izuku, so he didn't have to lean down far. He made an approving noise when he saw Izuku's hand.
"Ah, that's a good model. Very effective. Bit fragile though, wouldn't advise getting into any fistfights. You feeling ok, kid?"
"Ah," Izuku rubbed at his left shoulder, "It's alright, I think. I don't know if I'll be in the Sports Festival, though…"
"Hmm," Power Loader murmured, rubbing his chin without commenting, "I see. Good thing you're here, kid, Hatsume's been going crazy. She was halfway through an arm-mounted plasma cannon the other day."
Izuku felt something in him shrivel at the thought of having a highly volatile weapon of destruction attached to his shoulder.
"That sounds dangerous," he managed. Power Loader snorted.
"Yeah, that's an understatement. Actually had a lower chance of exploding than the rest of her tech, but the thing vented steam to cool. You'd need a fully enclosed suit of environmentally protective power armour to use it, even if it wasn't attached to your arm. Even worse, she was four-fifths of the way through designing a suit. What kind of maniac puts a miniature fusion reactor in a set of power armour, you might ask? Mei Hatsume, that's the answer. I'm already designing another tranquiliser gun, in case the one I've got now isn't enough."
Izuku listened to Power Loader's rant with increasing concern, taking nervous glances at a happily welding Hatsume. Power Loader took a deep breath, obviously trying to find some sort of equilibrium. Or a happy place, Izuku wasn't going to judge.
"Luckily most of her designs aren't too bad. I expect you've got some yourself as well, kid? That might at least give her a direction for her enthusiasm and cut off the crazier ideas. One more plasma blade design and I might even start to think it's a good idea myself, and let me tell you that frightens me more than almost anything else."
Alright. Izuku was a fifteen year old boy, and he wasn't ashamed to say that, for a moment, the thought of having a plasma blade hidden in his forearm was almost unbearably tempting. But then, as he often did, he came to his senses.
"How was she going to power something like that?" he cautiously asked. Power Loader dragged a hand down his face.
"A miniature fusion reactor."
"Does she have a miniature fusion reactor?" Izuku asked, suddenly understanding a new meaning of fear. Power Loader squeezed his eyes shut.
"No, and that's the worst thing! I'm terrified that she's going to try and build one! Midoriya, please, you're my only hope. Distract her."
Feeling like he was being sent off as a sacrifice, Izuku swallowed his nerves and set off across the room. Hatsume finished her welding and looked up, pushing back her welder mask and beaming at him.
"Greeny! I'm so glad you're alive! I'd feel really bad using your designs if you'd died."
Izuku couldn't help but notice that she didn't say she wouldn't actually use his designs. All things considered…well, it was fair enough he guessed. Hatsume turned her welding torch off and put it down, next to whatever she was working on. It looked like a boot, although much larger than a normal boot. Some sort of armour? He'd ask later, maybe. Hatsume left it for a moment, walking around the table- well, it was more like a bounce. Izuku slid back slightly, moving closer to the door in case he had to run for it. Hatsume halted, eyeing him.
"So," she said, "You lost an arm? That's too bad! But also, it's great!"
Ah, fear, Izuku's oldest friend. Hatsume darted across the open space between them and it took most of Izuku's willpower not to dive away and go for the window. Muttering to herself, Hatsume pulled a tape measure from her pocket and lifted his prosthetic arm, taking measurements and closely inspecting it through the goggles she was wearing.
"So I heard from Jumpy that you lost your arm," Hatsume said distractedly, "And I thought, great! There are so many babies I've had ideas for that need some sort of cybernetics, but nobody wants that. But then you went and lost a limb anyway, and that's very thoughtful of you, Greeny. But then I thought, what if he wants stuff that he's designed himself? I got a little out of hand with the guns, since they're your babies and you like them more boring than I do, but the design is pretty good so I thought I could probably design something like that that you might love."
Hatsume put her tape measure away and pushed her goggles up. She didn't release his arm, still bent over, but she tilted her head back and looked up at him. Izuku saw the glitter of her golden eyes, for once not hidden by random posing or her wild hair.
"Eh…how much do you weigh, actually?"
Izuku blinked at the apparently random question, but answered anyway. Best to indulge maniacs.
"About sixty-two kilograms. No, wait. Actually, lost my arm…about four percent of my weight…four percent of sixty-two is…two point five…about fifty-nine kilos I guess?"
Hatsume frowned.
"Yeah, alright, this isn't gonna work. It weighs like eight kilos total."
It? Izuku wasn't sure that he liked the sound of that. Equally, it might be some mad scientist creation that would be absolutely perfect for him, so he might as well go along with it for now.
"I can carry that," he protested. Hatsume shrugged.
"Sure, but it's on your shoulder. Wouldn't be balanced. You want a grenade launcher I can build you one and it'll be loads better."
A grenade launcher? That was…a little more than he'd expected, even if Tsuyu had warned him. How long had it even been? Had she been making this before he'd even gotten injured? Hatsume released his arm, waving a hand around as she lamented.
"And I spent so much time on it! The reloading system needed to be shrunk down so much, and the targeting- do you know how hard it is to add a fully adaptive holographic sight to a miniaturised drone that will only activate when the grenade launcher itself is activated? And the difficulty of putting together all the transforming parts- if there weren't other babies I could use all of those on it would be a complete waste of time!"
Despite her ranting, Izuku was honestly touched. She'd really done all that to build a grenade launcher arm for him? Well, there was a chance that she'd just gotten hyperfixated. But Izuku wasn't going to let himself think that, because he wanted to see the best in people.
"Ah- you know, you don't have to throw it all away? I wanted to add some grenades into my arsenal anyway, so a compact grenade launcher could be really useful."
In the background Power Loader made a noise of despair. Hatsume slammed her hand onto the table.
"Right!" she bellowed, "No science is wasted! Also. I've made some progress in bullets for your guns. I call them neural disruptor rounds! If they work right, one shot should disrupt the nervous system around the impact site for almost ten minutes! They'll revolutionise police work, even if you get first access!"
"Or they would if they didn't tend to explode," Power Loader dryly added, "You can make high-explosive rounds that are a lot cheaper and more reliable, Hatsume."
Hatsume waved her hand.
"Teething problems! Teething problems, like all babies have! Once they're done they'll be magnificent!"
Izuku idly wondered if there was a law against that sort of thing. There were laws against neurotoxins, he was pretty sure, and that sounded dangerously close. Then again, maybe it was more like a taser.
"Actually, I've got some ideas that I wanted you to look over, Hatsume," he said. Hatsume spun towards him, pointing a dramatic hand.
"Greeny! I knew you were my favourite Hero Student for a reason! What have you got for me?"
"W-well, I actually have some designs for my prosthetic arm, once I get the final version that I'll actually be able to use as a full arm. And I've got some armour upgrades too- I'm not sure if it'll work completely, but it could make body armour several times more effective."
Hatsume grabbed him by the arm- his right, he noticed, possibly demonstrating that she wasn't as oblivious as she sometimes seemed- and pulled him over to a desk, pushing him onto a stool.
"Sit. Design. Tell me."
Izuku blinked at being manhandled, mentally shrugging it off rather than trying to make anything of it. He reached into his bag and produced his notepad- Hatsume immediately leaned on his shoulder, peering down as he flicked through the pages. He reached one almost at the end, with a drawing of the arm he'd end up using, carefully drawn in pencil. Hatsume tilted her head.
"It's only about as strong as your other arm, right?"
"Yeah. It still connects to my shoulder, so that's easier. Plus, there might be some issues with control if it's much stronger than my right? I guess in theory the limiters can be turned off, but that's a last ditch thing and even then it's unlikely to be much use against someone who I can't beat with skill alone, since the rest of my body wouldn't be able to tolerate that sort of combat. I've wondered about an exoskeleton, but then that runs the risk of relying too heavily on technology, and if the reactor used is damaged then…um, ignore that."
Hatsume just grinned at him, but didn't say anything. Instead she put a finger on the notepad. Izuku noticed that, despite the oil stains across her face and arms, none smudged the page. The rag she'd used to wipe her hands after putting the welding torch down probably had some impractical and terrifying technology in it.
"So you want a blade in your arm, Greeny? I like your style, but you'll have to change up your costume if you wanna do it."
"Actually, I just wanted it as a backup? In case, in case I'm captured and tied up. If I've got a blade hidden in the wrist I can cut my way out and escape."
Hatsume hummed, a crooning noise deep in her throat. Izuku fought the urge to shift away from her- she was still leaning on his shoulder, it would be too obvious.
"Yeah. Yeah. Can build you a laser blade if you want. Plasma blade needs too much power, but if you want to cut someone up…"
"I was thinking more like a curved blade," Izuku hastily interrupted, eager to avoid the introduction of possibly unstable power sources to his arm, "Sharp on the back. Can we get some kind of nanofilament blade that'll cut through almost anything with only a little pressure?"
Hatsume made a thoughtful noise.
"Eeh…sure. Probably. It won't last long, Greeny. Not without some kinda fancy nano-tech like I hear they've got over on I-Island. But if all you want is one use, we can do that. Yeah, I can do that. Alright. That's your arm. What else?
Izuku tapped his fingers on the paper.
"I think I'm going to add similar blades to my gauntlets, actually. Still works to cut myself free if I'm tied up in costume, plus it'd be good for disarming people. And, um, if they aren't as sharp, then they can be used to bleed off speed if I'm descending down a wall on my line. I don't know if there's room for them to be completely retracted into my gauntlets, though."
Hatsume reached across the workbench and snagged a pencil and paper, sketching a rough outline of his gauntlets. She scraped the pencil over the paper as she thought, producing a harsh rasp.
"Huh. If they fold out sideways, maybe? Spring-loaded? Yeah. Yeah, that'll do. It's a bit boring, but most of your stuff is like that. If you want some good stuff…actually…you want to field-test some of my babies, Greeny? The Hover-Boots are almost ready!"
"Hover-Boots?" Izuku asked, interested despite his better inclination. Hatsume nodded, bright dreadlocks bouncing with the motion.
"Hell yeah! Based 'em on that old Hero, look!"
She sprang to her feet and strode around the table, lifting one heavy, chunky boot into the air. Izuku snapped his fingers in realisation.
"The Buster Hero, Air Jet?"
"Yes!" Hatsume barked, pointing at him, "A backpack and boots that replicate his Quirk! I just need someone to make sure that they work properly! None of these understand that progress has risks!"
She waved an arm at the rest of the room. A scatter of other Support students, working on their own projects, cringed in fright. Izuku somehow managed not to laugh, leaning in for a closer look at Hatsume produced a jetpack from under the table.
"I know! And you've got no Quirk to interfere with it, so you'll be perfect! I could even add it onto your costume, it'll massively increase your mobility so long as…hmm. Well, so long as you don't kick anything. Alright! Almost useless for you!"
Izuku nearly got whiplash from the mood change. Hatsume carefully placed the jetpack next to the boot.
"You know, Support students can take their gear into the Sports Festival with them? It's a perfect chance to get noticed by a big company, and then so long as I get sponsorship Hatsume Industries will take off!"
Hatsume pointed at the roof, stance wide. Izuku blinked at her as she snapped out of her manic episode, shrugging.
"I can even use some of your gear if you want! But it's boring, so mine is probably better. Anyway. You want knives in your gauntlets. You want them sharp on both sides? That'll be easy!"
Izuku briefly thought about blades sharp on both sides and barely crushed an instinctive retch at the memory of Dinah, sinking to her knees with blood pouring from her slashed throat, Bruce standing over her with his gauntlet gore-soaked and bloodied.
"No," he croaked, swallowing, "Just on the inner edge will be fine."
Hatsume squinted at him, shrugging.
"If you want! Now. What's this about armour?" she asked, hopping back onto his side of the workbench and leaning on his shoulder again. Izuku pinched his eyes shut for a second to regain his equilibrium and pulled his notebook over, so they could both see it properly. He flipped back a few pages, to a double-page spread covered in annotations, chemical formulae and designs. Hatsume made a soft growling noise as her eyes raked over the design. Izuku felt like he would probably characterise it as lustful, in the way a lioness might growl lustfully at a nice juicy cow. Power Loader whined in the background and Izuku took a moment to take a deep breath and forcibly slow his heartrate before he went into cardiac arrest.
"Impact resistant variable gel? Does it work?" she asked, her eyes roving over the paper. Izuku awkwardly shrugged, her arm adding additional weight to his shoulders.
"I tested a small-scale version, weeks ago. It seemed to work, but I've been refining it since then. If this works like it should…"
"It'll completely replace ceramic plates in standard body-armour," Hatsume said, her voice unhinged with glee, "It'll revolutionise the Hero Costume industry. It'll make whoever owns the rights to it rich. Midoriya…if this works, it'll make us both a fortune."
Hatsume snapped back, throwing both arms in the air and whooping.
"Alright! Time to work on whatever babies I want, with just this! Greeny, you're a godsend!"
"Pleased to help," Izuku muttered, massaging his shoulder where Hatsume had been leaning on him. It wasn't that effective, since it was his right shoulder and his new left arm wasn't exactly suited for that sort of thing, but the thought was what counted. Hatsume was right, though. Wayne Industries Defensive Matrix Gel- variant five- was a shock absorbing gel that had incredible absorptive properties. It had formed the underlayer of a lot of the Batsuits before Bruce had lost most of his resources, and was the key to much of the bullet-proofing and impact resistance that made Batman seem like more than a man. It had taken months for Izuku to create even a basic version, but he thought he'd gotten to something decent in quality. It wouldn't make him invincible, but being effectively bulletproof until the gel took too many impacts and lost consistency would make him feel a lot safer.
"How is the adhesive foam going?" he asked, looking at Power Loader since Hatsume was still dancing around. The teacher shrugged.
"Pretty well, kid. Your notes were invaluable- I've taken a look myself and I'm pretty sure that we can get your upgraded grapple built by the Sports Festival. The foam bullets and grenades, maybe a week after that? You can take a look if you like. You want to redesign the grapple completely?"
Izuku nodded slowly.
"At the moment, only having it attached to my body harness limits it. If I can get it in a separate gun, and have an easily accessible anchor point on my armour…"
"Hmm. Yeah, versatility is key to this kind of thing. A redesign shouldn't be too bad. Hatsume had some ideas for building a grapple into your arm, as well, though it'll need a lot more work. Don't want to fire it and yank your arm off."
"No, that would be bad," Izuku whispered, before shaking himself.
"I have something else, as well. I think…I might be able to build a, a sort of cryogenic ammo? It'll burst on impact and freeze the whole area, hopefully without causing any real tissue damage. But I need a safe place to test it."
Power Loader shrugged.
"Can't be any more dangerous than anything else these lunatics get up to. So long as you don't try and turn a flamethrower into an enormous cutting beam or anything like that you're welcome here."
Izuku nodded to him, smiling.
"Thank you. Um, Hatsume? Would you like to start making a test batch of the ballistic gel?"
Izuku almost lost his other arm as Hatsume dragged him over to the chemical section of the workshop.
Was Power Loader joking about all the trouble his students cause? Well, let's just say that even I'm not sure yet. Anyone waiting for Empress Ascendant, the next chapter is being proofread at the moment, so probably looking at a weekend release. And, as always, reviews are appreciated and I'll see you in the next chapter.