Chapter 50: Midoriya Izuku XLV

A/N: Ahem. Well. I'm back from an… unscheduled and unannounced hiatus? Hmm… Yeah, let's go with that. Good news is: I finally have time to write again. I apologize for the long absence, but that's life for you. I do want to put it out there though: I'm not abandoning this, and never will. This fic will be completed, no matter how long it takes. So, on that note, I do hope that you all enjoy the chapter. It's more of a prelude of what's to come, *cough* training camp *cough* but nonetheless it gets a good portion of setup out of the way. So… enjoy.

A quick port via Kurogiri's warp gate later, and the trio find themselves away from their nighttime escapade in Aichi and back into the relative comfort of the bar.

Once Izuku settles onto his feet, he finds that apart from his group there's nobody around that isn't already part of the usual scene — Kurogiri lounging behind the bar and Tomura playing his games, that is. And yet, despite the familiarity of what he sees, he can't quite stop an odd sense of dread from overcoming him.

And so, before his companions can find themselves running off to the relative comfort of their rooms, Izuku pulls on both of their collars, drawing up a bubble of nullified sound as he does so to drown out their sounds of distress.

"Whoa! Whisper!" Mustard fusses. "What gives?"

"Yeah!" Toga exclaims. "I mean, out in the open? If you really—"

"About tonight," Izuku interrupts with his quirk, letting go of their collars as he does so. "I have a favor to ask."

Toga immediately nods her head in fervor, while Mustard stops to fix his collar before he himself nods. Nonetheless, by the looks of things the two of them prove eager to follow through with Izuku's request, even despite his rough handling.

Suffice to say, Izuku likes what he sees.

"Our plan?" Izuku continues, crossing his arms together. "All that stuff about dismantling the Shie Hassaikai and what not?"

The both of them nod.

"Try to keep it among yourselves, if you will."

Toga wrinkles her nose in response. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you think I mean," Izuku replies. "Keep both of your mouths shut about our plans, regardless of whether you're talking with strangers or with allies or friends. And yes, that does include the other members of the League."

"The other League members?" Mustard repeats. "Why? Is it because…" Mustard trails off.

"I simply don't want it to get out what we are trying to do," Izuku supplies. "And a… few of our members have loose lips. And some especially don't have any control over said loose lips."

Izuku allows the moment to fall into a lull, allowing his words to sink in to his compatriots.

"And… yes," he eventually continues after some contemplation. "To supply an answer to your unasked question." He looks to Mustard specifically as he says that. "Member-wise, there are some glaring examples of which I can point to that stand as serious issues. There's a reason certain members haven't been given the invitation to stay here at the bar."

Toga sneers. "Serves Moony right! Always shoving the blood from his activities off to the foreground. I always found his artistic form to be lacking! And it must be true if even Whispy finds something off about him!"

"Don't go pointing fingers now," Izuku says, neither confirming nor denying Toga's beliefs (even if they are true). "I'd rather we stay cohesive for at least a little bit. It'd be a shame if our ragtag group fell apart at the seams before we could even properly debut."

"But didn't you directly disapprove of Muscular and Moonfish's recruitment?" Mustard asks. "I mean, they're a far cry from the others. You know that they won't play up to your standards, right?"

I suppose that it was kind of obvious who I was talking about. But still… "And yet I don't solely make the decisions here," Izuku laments. "And so here we are. Regardless, this upcoming operation of ours will be the true test — it'll be what determines whether or not each and every one of you have what it takes to be a part of the League." Izuku cocks his head. "Well, those of you who I haven't already seen in action, anyways."

"Oh!" Toga squeals. "That means that both Musty and myself have passed, doesn't it!"

"Don't call me that!"

Izuku clears his throat. "That's up to you to determine. Though, to be fair, hero students and their teachers are leagues above the street fodder we've faced so far… barring our most recent encounter. And we didn't actually fight anybody that matters. So it's still up in the air, really."

Toga gives off a conspiratory smile. "Is it really, though?"

Izuku sighs, rolling his eyes. With a whim of his thoughts, the bubble around them disperses and sounds of the bar (Tomura's games mostly) come rushing back in.

"That's all for now," Izuku says. "Head up to bed; we're done for the night. Just remember your promise."

"Will do!" Toga cheers, beginning her march towards the stairs.

Mustard does much of the same, but is however stopped in his tracks.

"Not you," Izuku says in response, once again pulling on the boy's collar. "We have something to discuss."

"Ow," Mustard complains. "Again?"

Izuku opens his mouth to continue, but pauses, narrowing his eyes.

"We, as in Mustard and myself. Alone," Izuku broadcasts, straight at the spot Toga's taken to hide herself behind. "It's a private matter."

"But I want private time too!" Toga harrumphs, stomping out from her hiding place.

Izuku sighs. "Please?"

Toga hums. "Oh fiiinneee. But only because you asked nicely! Night Whispy!" She waves and then skips off, disappearing up the stairs. With his quirk, Izuku confirms that the girl actually heads into her room, and stays put.

Izuku nods to himself. "Seems like she'll leave us alone for now. That's a relief."

Izuku can't see it, but he can hear the way Mustard frowns underneath his mask. "That's a dangerous game that you're playing, you know."

Izuku scoffs. "You don't say?" He shakes his head. "I know plenty enough of the dangers I'm exposing myself to by following through with this venture. Though, that being said…"

Izuku takes a few steps back, stopping when he finds a good view of Mustard standing across from him. "Do you share the same level of awareness, Nakajima?"

Mustard's taken aback, both due to the sudden use of his surname and the unexpected question.

"Uh… A-what? What do you mean?"

Izuku hums. "Tell me, what do you think about the League's first official operation? What's the first thing that comes to mind when the details of our mission cross your mind?"

Mustard cocks his head off to the side. Before he answers, he takes his mask off, placing it on a table nearby. He takes a breath. "You mean, after the logistics? Battle strategies and opportune team compositions and the like?"

Izuku simply nods.

A smirk comes across Mustard's face, almost as if a switch's been flipped in his mind. The calculating and subtly ruthless Mustard from before is gone, within seconds replaced with a visage marked with cruelty and wicked pleasure.

"That's easy," Mustard remarks, voice tinged with excitement. "I finally get to crack some Yuuei kids' skulls."

…

"Uh huh," Izuku mutters, voice laced with disappointment. "Just as I thought." He shakes his head.

It'll hurt, and it'll set our progress back. By how much I don't really know. But… But I have to. For his sake.

Izuku takes a breath. "I'll give you the straight and narrow, Mustard: you have a problem."

"A problem?" Mustard narrows his eyes. "The heck are you talking about?"

"What's my goal? The goal that you, as you have previously admitted to, outright wish to commit yourself to within the best of your ability?"

"Whisper, I don't see the poin—"

"What. Is. My. Goal?"

Mustard gulps. "I… Er—" He takes a breath. "You… you want to make a society where one doesn't have to worry about being discriminated against for something they can't control. You want to advance the views of the masses to where a stranger can willingly accept the oddities of another. You want crime and needless violence to be wiped from the face of the Earth. And you pursue such ideals through whatever means necessary, so long as innocents don't needlessly suffer and only those who truly deserve it face your wrath."

Izuku smiles. "Good, good. You understand." He clenches and unclenches his hands, fingers writhing to and fro. "And yet…"

Mustard blinks. "And yet?"

"There's a fine line between vengeance and teaching a lesson, versus outright murder. And I've been around you enough to notice the dissonance you hold between those that represent Yuuei and those who don't. The thing is, most of those Yuuei kids have never actually done anything to you personally. As you said, they're innocents who do not needlessly need to suffer."

"But that's not true!" Mustard exclaims.

"Really?"

Mustard scoffs. "You wouldn't understand."

It's Izuku's turn to scoff. "You think I don't? Well then, picture this: a boy no younger than a toddler, eagerly awaiting the day he gets his quirk. His peers begin to sprout one by one. One gets elastic abilities. Another the abilities of an ox. A lucky kid is gifted with the revered and well-sought after strength and flight package. But the boy has yet to sprout, and he begins to worry – Am I quirkless? If I am, then…"

"But suddenly, finally, the boy gets his quirk. Except it isn't something flashy like laser beams or elemental constructs. Nothing near super strength or super speed or lightning-fast reflexes. No, just a simple quirk with a simple use. It isn't useless, far from it. It has utility and capability in offense and defense in spades."

"Of course, this is all clear as day to the boy. But, do the other kids see his quirk that way? See the potential, see the untold growth and strength just waiting to be groomed? Or do they judge on what they see at that very moment; something weak, something to deride, something to mock and make fun of?"

"The first few years are mild. Playground insults, exclusions from playtime. But from there it only grows. Pranks, if you can call such vile and inhumane acts as such. Outright hatred, whether as an outlet for their own insecurities, or for the blooming prejudices society imbeds into the minds of their young. Violence, stretching from bullying to actions akin to what a villain eats for breakfast."

"And what's the boy to do but stew in anger, stew in depression and regret and unabashed hatred at the world? At everyone who ever looked down upon him. To everyone who never believed him. To those who he should have been able to trust, should have been loved by, only to be unloved and met with negligence?"

"Until one day the opportunity arises, something within him just… snaps. The world is what's wrong, not him. His anger and hysteria and pain and need for love lashes out, striking out for the first time since his birth. And it feels good. Delectable. A craving unlike anything ever experienced before. And suddenly you're searching for that high. For that chance to strike back against the world that mistreated you for years. To take what you've learned and change the world… for the better."

"Tell me, Nakajima," Izuku says. "Does any of that sound familiar to you?"

Mustard's heart is beating in his chest, irate and indignant. The sweat in his palms and scalp runs fervently, the sputtering erupting from his mouth like someone gasping for breath.

"I…" the boy begins. "I didn't know that you…"

"Yes, Ayumu. We are more alike than you think."

"But if that's true then you have to understand!" Mustard yells out. "You should know that Yuuei is the sole representation of all that we've faced! All of the hardships! All the pain!"

"Wrong."

"Wrong? Wrong! How can you—"

"It's simple, really. Learn to hate the individual, rather than the collective. It's irrational to hate a whole group because of the actions of a single person. Do I hate all heroes because of the faulty actions one did in my youth? No, just a broad number of them. Do I hate everyone because of my bullied past? No, because a few people turned out alright in the end."

"But—"

"Aren't you adopting their ideologies, by thinking like that? Like how they hate you or me because of our quirks that are 'weak' or 'useless?' Are you not following down the same paths of prejudice and misconduct, treating someone as an 'other?' Are you not supplanting within yourself a hypocrite, willing to do what they believe is right, when in truth you're gaslighting yourself of your own faults? Are you not becoming one of the monsters yourself?"

That rightly clams up Mustard.

Izuku lets out a slow nod. "Of course, that doesn't mean that you forgive and forget. Now that would be even stupider. Look." Izuku lifts up his costume, showcasing a brief strip of flesh above his waistline.

Mustard's eyes widen in surprise, eyeing the various starburst-shaped scars that populate the space.

"One of my abusers did this," Izuku reveals. "Quite a nasty fucker, he is. But the truth is that these marks? They're almost second nature to me now. Sure, they're there, and the ache from time to time, require proper care and all that. But there's nothing about them that I can change. And yes, the person who did this to me currently attends Yuuei."

"Then—!"

"BUT," Izuku interjects before Mustard can get any further. "At the same time, my dearest friend, perhaps the one thing I value most in this shitty and uncaring world, is also a Yuuei student. She isn't some stuck-up know-it-all, an ignorant rich kid, somebody who'd lord her ability over others, or anything like that. She's a kind, gentle soul. One who's trying her best to change things for the better, one who doesn't quite fit in within our cutthroat society, and faces the dangers of the world crushing her beneath its feet."

"I might not even be here today, if it wasn't for her."

Izuku shakes his head. "So you see, Ayumu, your conflict isn't steeped in blacks and whites, good and evil. Rather, from the ground up it's filled with greys. You need to see that with your very own eyes. Perhaps it won't happen unless you're on the battlefield, but by then it might already be too late. So heed my advice, okay?"

Mustard clenches his fists, open, and out. Eventually, he gives a curt nod.

"Good," Izuku says. "But relax. I'm not expecting you to turn over a new leaf overnight. Realizations, moments of clarity like the ones I wish for you to face, they take time. So take as long as you need; just don't act rashly when you come to it face to face."

"Yes… Of course." Mustard says as he bows. "I apologize over my outburst, Whisper. It was rather unkind of me to lash out at you, somebody who has shown me and taught me so much."

"No need," Izuku soothes, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know that this is a rather sore subject for you. I understand."

Mustard rises with a nod. His face narrows, eyes calculating in thought before he speaks up once more. "…Does she know?"

Izuku doesn't need any clarification as to what he means. "No… she doesn't. I'd just be dragging her in if she knew. She doesn't deserve that. Not as gentle a soul as her."

Izuku takes a breath. "So. Before you go."

"Yes?"

"That gun of yours? It will be a last resort."

"I, but… Then I won't have any weapons for nonlethal takedowns?"

"Not true. You have your grenades, and a launcher that I shall provide to you the day of the operation."

"That seems… limiting? I mean, it's just my quirk but with extended range, right?"

"And that's why I had Giran procure some gear for you. More guns, since you seem to like the aesthetic. But these will only have blanks and tranquilizers."

"So simple bluffs and distractions then," Mustard muses, a hand on his chin.

"Of course. After all, if enemies find you completely willing to end them with a single bullet, what stops them from thinking the same?"

Mustard gulps. "I suppose that I never thought of it that way… Is that why you haven't had any qualms about my gun until now? Since all the villains we've been after would be out to kill regardless?"

"See?" Izuku says. "You can deduce things when you put your mind to it. So prove that I can trust you. Live rounds only when you're backed into a corner… Or if All Might's coming at you.

Mustard blinks. "You're giving me permission to shoot at All Might?"

Izuku shrugs. "Sure. He deserves a bit of a punishment, no matter how minuscule it may be. Think of it as a gift from me to him. Besides, it's not like you're actually going to hit him."

Mustard lets out a chuckle. "Yeah. I suppose you're right about that." He sighs. "So… we're good?"

Izuku nods. "We're good. Reflect over everything we've discussed tonight."

"I will, Whisper-sensei."

A/N: And that's that! I'm trying my best to get the next chapter put, so hopefully I don't leave all of you with another long absence. That being said, thank you all for reading!