It was strange, in a way, how quickly a person could fall into routine.
Even someone like Leo Blackwood — the so-called "mystery transfer student" of Aldera Junior High — had found himself locked into the quiet rhythm of day-to-day life in Musutafu. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't flashy. But it was life, and for now, it was enough.
His mornings were always the same. The moment the first ray of sunlight managed to slip through the thin gap in his curtains, Leo was already awake — not because he wanted to be, but because years of living under the roof of Toshinori Yagi had conditioned him into being an early riser whether he liked it or not. There was just something about being raised by a man who treated early mornings like sacred ground that had beaten the habit into Leo's bones.
Stretching his broad, well-trained frame with a quiet groan, Leo wandered toward the small kitchenette of his apartment, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while his other hand blindly fumbled for a protein bar left on the counter from the night before. His place was quiet — too quiet, sometimes — especially after living with Toshinori, whose mere presence tended to fill every available space like an oversized, awkward dad-shaped shadow.
He tore open the wrapper of the bar with his teeth, chewing lazily as he scrolled through his phone, idly thumbing past headlines about hero rankings and Pro Hero gossip until one particularly bold title made him snort under his breath.
"Japan's Top 10 Pro Heroes We'd Want to Train Under!"
And, of course, sitting pretty at number one — bold gold lettering and all — was All Might.
Figures, Leo thought dryly, rolling his eyes as he shook his head with a faint grunt of amusement. Already did my time under that lunatic.
The rest of his morning played out as it always did — shower, dressed, grab his bag, and head out the door — the only real difference these days being that sometimes, more often than not now, he ended up running into Izuku Midoriya on the way to school.
And sure enough, the moment Leo locked his apartment door behind him and turned toward the stairwell, there was the green-haired kid himself, halfway through tying his shoe in a rush, mumbling feverishly to himself about something-or-other regarding hero stats, battle tactics, or obscure trivia only Izuku seemed to know or care about at this hour.
Leo paused, arching a brow, watching the smaller boy trip over his own words before letting out a faint snort of amusement.
"Yo," he greeted simply, his voice low, gravelly in that way that sounded naturally tired even when he wasn't.
Izuku flinched like a cat caught in the act, jerking his head up so fast it was a miracle he didn't pull something.
"O-Oh! L-Leo-san! G-Good morning!" Izuku stammered, cheeks flushing slightly as he scrambled to his feet, clutching that ever-present, battered Hero Analysis notebook of his like a shield.
Leo shook his head faintly, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Relax, nerd. Pretty sure I'm not scary enough to eat you for breakfast."
Izuku let out an awkward, breathy laugh, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment as the two of them fell into step beside one another, heading down the street toward Aldera Junior High.
It had become... routine.
Unspoken, but steady.
Despite Leo's sharp tongue and natural snark, Izuku had never been afraid of him in the same way the rest of the class seemed to be — and Leo, for reasons he still didn't fully understand, didn't mind the kid's company.
But that didn't mean the whispers stopped.
If anything, they'd only gotten worse.
As they walked, Leo could hear them — the murmurs, the sideways glances, the whispers just barely out of earshot.
"That's him."
"Yeah, Blackwood. The American transfer."
"Nobody's even seen his Quirk yet."
"I heard it's a dragon."
Leo, to his credit, didn't so much as twitch at the latest addition to the rumor mill.
A dragon, huh?
That was a new one.
Not the worst rumor he'd ever heard, but definitely top ten for creativity.
Izuku, however, looked mildly horrified, glancing at Leo with a nervous kind of awe, like maybe — just maybe — it was true.
"L-Leo-san," Izuku whispered, hesitant, "th-there's been a lot of... um... rumors about you lately..."
Leo sighed through his nose, shaking his head slowly. "Yeah, shocker," he deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. "A dragon, huh? Really leaning into that whole 'scary foreign transfer student' vibe, I guess."
Izuku blinked, green eyes wide with curiosity.
"Is... is it true?" he asked softly, almost hopefully.
Leo slowed his steps just enough to side-eye the poor kid.
"If I had a dragon, Midoriya," Leo said flatly, voice dry as a desert, "I wouldn't be wasting my time sitting in math class dodging Bakugo's ego trips. I'd be flying around Japan charging five bucks a ride, or maybe snatching tourists right off Ferris wheels like some kaiju Uber service."
Izuku choked — actually choked — on absolutely nothing, coughing into his sleeve as Leo continued walking without missing a beat, lips curling into a faint, rare smirk of genuine amusement.
"Kidding," Leo added after a beat. "Mostly."
Izuku's helpless laughter followed them the rest of the way.
And for a little while... the walk didn't feel so heavy.
Just routine.
Just theirs.
Just life.
Aldera Junior High was already buzzing by the time Leo and Midoriya crossed through the front gates.
The familiar din of students yelling across the courtyard, groups huddled near shoe lockers, the occasional distant pop of someone messing around with their Quirk — it was all becoming background noise to Leo at this point. It was loud. Messy. A little immature.
But honestly?
It wasn't all that different from the schools he'd survived back in the States.
Kids were kids, no matter the country.
The only real difference was the language and the uniforms.
Leo casually changed into his indoor shoes, stuffing his outdoor ones into his locker before walking side-by-side with Midoriya toward Class 3-A — their homeroom.
He caught a few side glances thrown his way — eyes quickly darting away when he met them — but Leo didn't react. He never did.
Let them whisper.
Let them wonder.
Better than dealing with idiots trying to test him like back in Cheyenne.
Stepping into the classroom, Leo immediately picked out the usual suspects.
There, by the window with his feet up on the desk like he owned the entire country, was him.
Katsuki Bakugo.
Loud.
Cocky.
Absolutely dripping in the kind of arrogance only someone with a legitimately dangerous Quirk and a superiority complex the size of a skyscraper could pull off.
Leo didn't even blink at the sight.
If Bakugo thought his attitude was going to rattle him like the rest of these kids?
Man was he in for a lifetime of disappointment.
Leo slid into his seat near the back — just far enough away to keep an eye on the class, just close enough to disengage from the chaos if need be. Midoriya quietly took his usual spot a few rows ahead, already shrinking into himself the moment Bakugo's eyes locked onto him.
Tch.
Typical.
Bakugo's sneer practically stretched across his face as he noticed the green-haired boy sitting there with his battered little notebook out, scribbling nervously.
Leo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, already predicting the oncoming garbage before it even started.
And right on cue —
"Hey, Deku."
Bakugo's voice was like a wolf's growl — low, mocking, sharp enough to make the surrounding lackeys snicker on instinct.
"Still dreaming about UA, huh? That's rich."
Leo exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes half-lidded, watching the scene unfold like a tired lion watching hyenas bicker over scraps.
Bakugo was relentless, ripping the application form out of Midoriya's hand with a rough tug, holding it up like it was offensive just existing.
"With a Quirk like yours? Oh wait — that's right." The smirk on Bakugo's face twisted cruel. "You don't even have one."
Leo's jaw clenched ever so slightly.
Not out of surprise.
But out of sheer, bone-deep annoyance.
Bullies were universal.
Different language. Same garbage.
The homeroom teacher arrived right on time — a man in his mid-thirties with tired eyes and a perpetually slouched posture, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here. Dropping a stack of papers onto the desk at the front, he gestured lazily toward the class.
"Alright, settle down. Time to talk career paths."
Leo blinked.
...Career paths?
Wait a second.
His brows furrowed ever so slightly as the teacher elaborated — explaining how this was standard procedure in Japan for third-years to start thinking seriously about their futures.
Leo sat there, dead silent, processing.
In the States... this was high school stuff.
Not middle school.
Career planning at thirteen, fourteen years old?
Man... Japan really didn't mess around.
A faint mutter left him without thinking.
"...I barely figured out where the hell my garbage goes and now I'm supposed to know what I'm doing for the rest of my life?"
Midoriya, sitting just ahead of him, stiffened in his seat — probably not expecting Leo's dry commentary — before his shoulders started to shake in silent, helpless laughter.
The room was quiet for all of three seconds before the teacher casually mentioned that almost everyone probably wanted to be a hero.
And just like that — the classroom erupted into pure, unfiltered chaos.
Sparks, shouts, kids flashing their quirks like it was some half-assed talent show.
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose.
Great.
Here we go.
And of course — right in the middle of it all — Bakugo stood up like some golden-haired goblin king, soaking in the attention like it fueled him.
"I'm gonna get into UA and become the Number One Hero!" Bakugo announced, grinning like a madman. "Then I'll leave the rest of you extras choking on my dust!"
Leo deadpanned.
Extras, huh?
This kid really thought life was a shonen manga.
The only thing that broke the ridiculousness of it all was the faint, almost inaudible sound of Midoriya scribbling frantically in his notebook — trying to keep his head down while the rest of the class gawked and whispered about UA.
Leo's sharp green eyes tracked him for a moment longer than necessary.
No Quirk.
No status.
Still holding onto that dream like it was all he had.
For the first time in a long while, Leo felt something stir in his chest that wasn't annoyance.
As soon as the final bell rang, the classroom practically erupted into a storm of noise and movement, like caged animals released all at once. Bags were slung over shoulders, chatter echoed off the walls, and footsteps pounded toward freedom.
Leo Blackwood, however, was in no particular rush.
Leaning back in his chair, his long legs stretched beneath the desk, he let out a slow exhale through his nose. Another day survived at Aldera. Another round of dealing with Bakugo's obnoxious yelling, half the class kissing his ass, and the rest trying their best not to draw attention to themselves.
Typical.
Honestly, Leo could handle the noise. It wasn't like schools in the States were any less chaotic — hell, if anything, they'd been worse — but what still threw him off were the tiny details.
Like how he was expected to pick a career at barely fifteen.
Or how bathrooms here were still sometimes weird as hell.
Speaking of…
Leo grimaced quietly to himself as the sharp pang in his lower gut reminded him that he needed to use the john, and quickly.
"...Tch."
Dragging himself upright with a stretch that made his joints pop faintly, Leo grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, leaving his bag behind on instinct.
He didn't need to take everything with him.
A quick trip.
Five minutes, tops.
But as he turned back toward the classroom door — strolling lazily into the hall — Leo couldn't have known just how perfectly terrible his timing would be.
When he returned — hands shoved into his pockets, steps slow, tired eyes half-lidded — it was the voices that hit him first.
Voices sharp enough to slice through the leftover haze of afternoon exhaustion.
Bakugo's voice.
And not the usual loud, obnoxious posturing either.
No... this was different.
Cruel.
Targeted.
Leo's steps slowed, the faint arch of his brow tugging downward as the scene began to take shape through the partially open classroom door.
The sound of paper tearing — of something crackling with heat.
The faint, bitter scent of scorched paper and smoke drifted faintly into the hall.
Leo's jaw tensed.
He knew exactly what that smell was.
The growl of Bakugo's snide laughter filtered out next, followed by the unmistakable sound of snickering from his two brain-dead followers.
Leo's hands curled into slow, deliberate fists within his pockets.
Stepping silently forward, his sharp green eyes slid past the doorframe — and what he saw made something deep in his chest go still.
Izuku Midoriya — sitting at his desk, smaller than ever, his hands half-raised like he was reaching out for something precious.
Bakugo stood over him, smirk curled sharp and venomous, holding the burnt remains of Midoriya's treasured Hero Analysis notebook like it was a piece of trash barely worth noticing.
And with the same casual cruelty that Leo had seen in so many bullies back home — Bakugo turned, walked toward the open window, and without even a second thought, tossed the ruined notebook out into the breeze like discarding garbage.
But it wasn't even that act that made Leo's blood go cold.
It was what came next.
That line.
Those words.
The kind of words that didn't just bruise.
They scarred.
"If you want a Quirk so bad, Deku... why don't you take a swan dive off the roof and hope you get lucky in your next life?"
For a heartbeat — maybe longer — everything in Leo's mind went blank.
Not out of shock.
Not out of disbelief.
But because something ancient, something deeply carved into his very bones, snapped; it was like his quirk responded to his inner turmoil and reacted respectfully.
Slowly, with all the weight of a coming storm, Leo stepped into the classroom.
The floor creaked beneath his boots — just enough sound to make Bakugo glance lazily over his shoulder, still riding high on his own self-importance.
But the second Bakugo's eyes landed on Leo — the grin faltered.
Because the Leo Blackwood standing in the doorway now wasn't the calm, quiet transfer student who cracked dry jokes and shrugged off nonsense like water off stone.
No.
This was something else entirely.
Leo's eyes — that sharp, wild green — weren't tired anymore.
They burned.
His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscle in his cheek jumped, and when he spoke... his voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It was low.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
"Say that again."
Bakugo blinked — the full weight of the situation catching up to him a fraction too late.
"What's it to you, Blackwood?" Bakugo scoffed, trying — and failing — to sound unaffected.
Leo's boots hit the floor slowly, each step deliberate as he closed the distance.
"You know..." Leo's voice rumbled like distant thunder, his gaze never once leaving Bakugo's. "Where I'm from? Guys like you... guys who run their mouths like that about ending someone's life... they don't last long."
Bakugo's sneer wavered.
"You think blasting a notebook makes you scary?" Leo asked, tone flat, deadly calm. "You think tossing words like that around makes you big?"
The next step echoed louder.
Leo was taller.
Broader.
And right there.
Closer than Bakugo liked.
Leo's lips curled into the faintest, sharpest smirk — all teeth, no humor.
"You ain't scary, Bakugo."
Pause.
"You're small."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Even Bakugo's lackeys didn't dare breathe.
Leo turned — not sparing another glance for the blond hothead — and crouched near Midoriya, who sat frozen, wide-eyed, pale, still staring at the window like his world had just shattered.
Leo's voice dropped — softer now, rough but real.
"For what it's worth, Green Bean..." Leo muttered, grabbing Midoriya's bag and standing effortlessly, "guys like him? They talk big because deep down... they know they ain't."
Leo didn't wait for a reply.
Didn't wait for permission.
He just walked — slow, steady — straight for the door.
And as he passed Bakugo, his final words landed like the swing of a guillotine.
"You wanna be the Number One Hero someday?" Leo asked, voice sharp as broken glass.
Then — without missing a beat —
"Act like one."
The air outside Aldera Junior High was crisp — a lingering bite of early spring clinging to the breeze like a reminder that winter hadn't quite surrendered yet. The sky overhead was cloudless, the kind of bright, endless blue that felt too peaceful to belong to the same world Leo Blackwood had just walked out of.
But peaceful or not, Leo's blood was still simmering beneath the surface.
Even now, after everything, he could feel the faint burn in his jaw from clenching his teeth too hard back there. That line — those words — Bakugo had spat like it was nothing... it replayed in Leo's head on an endless loop.
"Go take a swan dive..."
Leo exhaled slowly through his nose, like a beast calming itself after nearly baring its fangs.
To his side, Izuku Midoriya walked with his head down, his steps quiet, almost fragile in their hesitation. The kid clutched his once-prized Hero Analysis notebook — charred around the edges, bent from the fall — like it was something precious, like holding it too tightly might break it all over again.
Leo walked beside him without speaking for a long stretch of sidewalk.
Not because he didn't know what to say.
But because he knew words were useless if they didn't mean something.
It wasn't until they were halfway down the hill toward the underpass — a route Leo had come to learn was their usual way home — that he finally broke the silence.
"You know..."
His voice was low, rough, but it cut through the quiet like a knife through fog.
"You don't gotta take shit like that."
Izuku flinched faintly beside him, blinking up with wide, startled eyes.
"I..." Izuku's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm used to it."
Leo's steps slowed.
That — right there — pissed him off more than anything Bakugo could've said.
Used to it.
Like being treated like garbage was just normal.
Like being stepped on was just part of life.
Leo snorted, shaking his head with a dry, bitter edge.
"Tch... That's the saddest thing I've heard all day."
Izuku looked down again, small hands tightening around his notebook.
"But... he's right, isn't he?" Izuku said quietly, almost hollow. "I don't have a Quirk. I've never had one. No one expects anything from me. I'm just... Deku."
Leo stopped walking.
Right there, mid-step, on the empty sidewalk bathed in the golden wash of afternoon sunlight.
Izuku froze a few paces ahead, confused, turning slightly to look back.
Leo's sharp green eyes were fixed on him — unwavering, hard, but not cruel.
"You're wrong," Leo said, voice rough and solid like stone. "You're Izuku Midoriya. That's who you are."
Izuku stared.
"And I don't care what Bakugo or anyone else says — you're more of a damn hero than half of those wannabes back there combined."
For a heartbeat — maybe longer — Izuku just... stared at him.
Like no one had ever told him that before.
Like maybe, just maybe, this scary foreign transfer student with his rough voice and sharp glares wasn't scary at all.
Leo stepped forward again, falling back into pace beside him, hands shoved lazily in his pockets.
"And just so we're clear," Leo added, a faint, crooked smirk curling at the edge of his mouth, "now that I'm your friend — anyone tries that 'jump off the roof' shit again?"
His green eyes glinted.
"They're gonna be real familiar with what a swan dive into the pavement feels like."
Izuku choked on his own breath.
Wide-eyed.
Flustered.
But for the first time since they left school, he smiled.
A small, real, genuine little thing.
"...You really are something, Leo-san."
Leo huffed a faint laugh.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy on me now."
And for the first time in a while — maybe longer than he cared to admit — the weight on Izuku's shoulders seemed a little lighter.
But fate — as it often did — wasn't about to let them have their peace for long.
Because just as they rounded the corner into the underpass — that awful, wet, gurgling sound hit Leo's ears.
Something thick.
Something wrong.
And then — that stench.
Heavy.
Oily.
Rotten sewage mixed with something like burning tar.
Izuku froze like a deer in headlights.
Leo's eyes snapped upward — sharp, instinctual — landing immediately on the mass of green sludge shifting and slithering its way out from a nearby drain.
Multiple eyes.
Multiple mouths.
Too many teeth for something that shouldn't even have a mouth.
The villain's body twisted unnaturally, oozing upward with sickening, squelching sounds.
"Aww... jackpot," the Sludge Villain gurgled, its hideous grin stretching far too wide. "Two kids... nice and easy prey."
Izuku's breath hitched in terror.
But Leo?
Leo's jaw tightened.
The hum beneath his skin — that old, familiar thrum — began to rise.
Hot.
Alive.
The first instinct wasn't to run.
It was to fight.
Low in his throat — beneath his breath — a sound began to build.
A growl.
Deep.
Animalistic.
Warning.
The Bear within him stirred — not fully summoned, but close — like it recognized the danger even before Leo's conscious mind caught up.
He slowly raised an arm, placing himself between Midoriya and the writhing beast of a villain, eyes narrowing into something cold.
"Midoriya," Leo said lowly, voice steady, muscles coiling beneath his skin. "Get back."
But before the Sludge Villain could lunge forward — before Leo could fully unleash the power simmering just beneath his surface — a familiar voice tore through the underpass like a cannon blast.
"I AM HERE!"
The impact was immediate.
A gust of wind.
A presence so overwhelming it crushed the alley with its sheer force.
And standing there — cape billowing, grin wide, sunlight practically breaking behind him — was All Might.
Leo's stare locked with his.
Father.
Mentor.
Pain-in-the-ass guardian.
And even now — that dumb, proud grin still made something in Leo's chest loosen.
All Might threw a thumbs-up their way, voice booming.
"No need to worry, boys! Why?"
His grin glinted.
"Because I have arrived!"
The fight — if it could even be called that — was over in seconds.
All Might stood there, towering like some myth brought to life, sunlight catching against the sharp angles of his heroic frame, casting long shadows across the pavement of the underpass.
Where moments ago there had been fear... chaos... a monster of sludge twisting and slithering with far too many teeth — now there were just soda bottles. Six in total. Crammed full of thrashing, gurgling villain goo, sealed tight with crushed plastic caps like the world's weirdest recycling project.
Leo stood back, hands shoved into his pockets, watching the scene unfold with a familiar sort of tired amusement.
Of course it was All Might.
Of course it was him.
Even after years of living under the man's roof — seeing the highs, the lows, the weary bones beneath that ridiculous grin — there was still something about seeing All Might in action that brought a weight to Leo's chest.
Not awe.
Not anymore.
But something quieter.
Something deeper.
Respect.
Next to him, however, stood a boy experiencing that awe for the very first time in raw, unfiltered form.
Izuku Midoriya was shaking.
Not from fear.
But from sheer, blinding excitement.
It radiated off him in waves — this impossible energy that seemed to curl around him like static, his whole frame vibrating with barely-contained emotion as he stared — stared — at his lifelong idol standing only a few feet away.
And then — just like that — the dam broke.
"A-A-A-A-ALL MIGHT!"
The yell cracked through the air like thunder, so loud, so desperate, so painfully sincere that Leo almost winced on instinct.
There it is.
Leo cast a slow glance toward the kid beside him — watching, almost in morbid curiosity, as Izuku scrambled desperately through his half-scorched backpack, fingers fumbling clumsily until, finally — finally — he produced what remained of his precious Hero Analysis notebook.
The same notebook that had been scorched by Bakugo's quirk.
The same notebook that had been thrown out like garbage.
But here it was.
Held out.
Offered like a fragile, sacred thing in trembling hands.
"I-IS IT OKAY IF I GET YOUR AUTOGRAPH?!" Izuku practically screamed, his entire face flushed red, sweat pouring down his temple like a waterfall of nerves, green eyes sparkling so hard Leo wondered if the kid might just pass out standing up.
For a beat — a long, stunned beat — there was nothing but silence.
And then... Leo couldn't help it.
A sharp snort of laughter broke from his throat — low, rough, but undeniably real — the sound slipping free before he could even think to stop it.
God, this kid...
Leo shook his head slowly, an amused, almost incredulous grin tugging at the edge of his mouth.
"You're a real piece of work, Green Bean..." he muttered under his breath, voice edged with something dangerously close to fondness.
And then — as if perfectly cued — All Might's signature booming laughter erupted through the underpass like a blast of sunshine.
"HO HO HO! OF COURSE, YOUNG MAN!"
The hero's grin was wide, radiant, unmistakably proud.
"A TRUE HERO NEVER REFUSES THE REQUEST OF A FAN!"
Without hesitation — without even blinking — All Might reached into seemingly nowhere (seriously, where did he keep that marker?) and produced a thick black pen, taking the battered, burnt notebook from Izuku's shaking hands with the same care one might handle a medal of honor.
In broad, sweeping strokes — precise despite his size — All Might scrawled his signature across the page, bold and bright, the kanji for All Might almost bursting off the paper with energy.
"There we are!" All Might declared proudly, handing the notebook back with a heroic flourish and his signature thumbs-up pose. "Treasure it well, young man!"
Izuku...
Izuku looked like he had just witnessed God Himself descend from the heavens.
The poor kid was shaking so badly Leo half-expected him to drop the damn thing right there on the asphalt.
But he didn't.
He clutched that notebook like it was his lifeline.
His dream — reaffirmed. Blessed.
Leo watched him out of the corner of his eye, that rare smile still playing faintly across his lips.
It was ridiculous.
Stupid.
Childish.
And yet...
Leo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone so genuinely, stupidly happy.
Maybe never.
But life, as always, had its own clock ticking.
Because as All Might straightened, casually slinging the soda bottles filled with villain sludge over his shoulder like an oversized grocery bag, Leo caught the subtle signs.
The faint wisp of steam curling off All Might's body.
The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth — strain just barely hidden beneath that perfect grin.
Leo's eyes narrowed.
Shit.
Toshinori was almost out of time.
Leo knew the signs better than anyone.
And sure enough — with a booming declaration of duty — All Might crouched low, preparing to launch himself skyward.
"WELL THEN!" All Might called, booming and bright. "TIME TO DELIVER THIS VILLAIN TO THE AUTHORITIES!"
Izuku — still swimming in post-autograph bliss — bowed deeply, practically yelling his gratitude like it was the last thing he'd ever get to say.
"THANK YOU SO MUCH, ALL MIGHT!"
And then...
That moment.
That reckless, ridiculous, painfully sincere moment.
Izuku lunged.
"W-WAIT!"
His hands shot out — grabbing desperately onto All Might's leg just as the hero pushed off the ground with an explosive BOOM of wind and power.
Leo's heart dropped clean into his stomach.
Eyes wide.
"...Oh, you idiot," Leo exhaled under his breath.
And just like that — in a flurry of wind, dust, and sheer disbelief — All Might and Izuku blasted off into the sky together, vanishing into the afternoon clouds.
Leo stood there.
Alone.
In the dead silence of the underpass.
Slowly — painfully slowly — he dragged a rough hand down his face.
"Midoriya..." Leo muttered, staring blankly at the now-empty sky.
"What the hell am I even supposed to do with you?"
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
But even as the frustration simmered low in his chest...
That small, reluctant grin tugged at his lips all over again.
"...Dumbass."
The walk back to his apartment was... quiet.
Almost too quiet.
The streets of Musutafu were always peaceful around this time of day — the sun dipping low over the distant skyline, painting the streets in soft gold and warm orange, while the distant hum of cicadas settled into a constant background lull.
But for Leo — that peace felt heavier tonight.
He still wasn't sure how to process what had happened.
Midoriya — that scrawny, nervous kid with stars in his eyes — had clung to All Might's leg like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like it hadn't even crossed his mind to hesitate.
Tch.
Crazy little bastard.
Leo let out a low, tired exhale, dragging a hand through his wild hair as he climbed the stairs to his floor, the familiar creak of the apartment building's old boards beneath his boots grounding him back into reality.
Still...
He couldn't deny it.
Somewhere deep down, buried beneath the sarcasm and the rough exterior, there was a piece of him that... respected it.
That raw, stupid, fearless heart.
That refusal to just stay down.
Not so different from a certain scarred-up, tattooed transfer student from the States, after all.
As he approached his front door — the simple, quiet space that was now entirely his — Leo fished his key from his pocket, unlocking the door with a soft click, stepping inside into the familiar stillness of his apartment.
It wasn't big.
It wasn't flashy.
But it was his.
The faint smell of laundry soap from earlier in the week still lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp scent of the evening breeze filtering through the cracked balcony door.
Leo kicked off his boots lazily, walking toward the kitchen with the automatic muscle memory of someone who lived alone — but then...
He froze.
His sharp green eyes landed on the counter.
A letter.
Perfectly placed.
Unmistakably deliberate.
Leo blinked once, caught off guard, before stepping closer — the second his gaze hit the handwriting across the envelope, that guarded, tired look on his face cracked just a little.
He knew that handwriting.
Hell, he could recognize it a mile away.
"Tch..." Leo huffed under his breath, a small, rare grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. "Old man..."
Carefully — almost reverently — he picked it up, sliding a thumb beneath the seal and unfolding the paper inside.
And then...
He read.
"Leo,"
"Have you been eating well? Are you getting enough sleep? And please tell me you're actually doing your laundry and not just leaving your clothes in a pile somewhere like you did back in Wyoming."
Leo couldn't stop the snort of laughter that broke from him — low, rough, but undeniably real.
Of course Toshinori would start it like that.
Japan's Number One Hero — the Symbol of Peace — writing letters like a worried, awkward dad checking up on his stubborn son.
Classic.
Leo leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes scanning the words with something close to fondness.
"I know you're probably rolling your eyes reading this," the letter continued, "but humor me, alright?"
"I'm writing this because I didn't get a chance to say everything I wanted before you moved out."
"Leo..."
"I'm proud of you."
The words hit harder than Leo expected.
Simple.
Uncomplicated.
But raw.
True.
"Moving out... deciding to live on your own... it's not an easy thing. Especially after everything you've been through. Especially with your past."
"The apartment's been quiet without you. Lonely, if I'm being honest. I keep catching myself waiting to hear you rummaging through the fridge at night or yelling at me for hogging the remote."
"But that's the sign of growth, isn't it? We raise the next generation to leave the nest eventually."
Leo's grip on the letter tightened faintly — not hard enough to crease it, but enough to feel the weight of it sink into his chest.
But it was the next part that really made him pause.
"You might not see it, Leo... but I do."
"I've seen it for years now."
"The heart of a hero."
"It's not in your Quirk. It's not in your tattoos or your strength or your sharp tongue."
"It's in the way you always help people without expecting anything in return."
"It's in the way you helped that old woman carry her bags when no one else would."
"It's in how you spent hours helping that little girl find her lost cat, even though you grumbled the entire time."
"It's in the way you stand between others and danger without hesitation."
That's what makes a real hero."
"Your heart."
Leo let out a slow breath — long, steady — feeling the words settle deep into the cracks of old wounds he never quite knew how to heal.
But Toshinori — damn him — always knew just how to sneak past his walls.
Always.
And then... of course... the last paragraph.
Leo could practically hear Toshinori's awkward, sheepish laughter in the words.
"By the way..."
"I left you a bit of an allowance in the top kitchen drawer."
"Use it for necessities... groceries... bills... whatever you need."
"But — and I mean this — if you happen to meet a girl you like..."
"Take her out somewhere nice. You deserve to smile, Leo."
Leo barked out a short, rough laugh — shaking his head slowly as he rubbed a hand over his face.
"Dumb old man..." he muttered, voice rough but undeniably warm.
But even as he folded the letter carefully, placing it back on the counter with a quiet reverence, he couldn't deny the way something in his chest felt just a little lighter.
A little steadier.
Leo glanced toward the kitchen drawer Toshinori had mentioned — eyeing it like it might bite him — before chuckling under his breath again.
"Yeah, yeah... I hear you, old man."
And just like that — for the first time all day — Leo Blackwood felt like he was home.
Really home.
Not because of the walls.
Not because of the space.
But because somewhere out there...
Somewhere behind the impossible grin and the mountain of hero duties...
There was still someone who believed in him.
Completely.
Without hesitation.