The cityscape surrounds him, yet he‘s left alone under a light-polluted sky. There’s no moon tonight, no clouds either, just a blank black slate where there should be stars.
Izuku stares out at the skyline, tracing it with his eyes. His breathing is still shaky. He growls a sigh while trembling hands clutch at the worn batman hoodie Kuroda lent him.
“My name is Midoriya Izuku.” He mutters, “I’m in class 1-A. I’m Quirkless. My friends are Uraraka, Shinsou, Iida, Todoroki, Daisy, Kuroda and Dabi. Mom’s okay, she’s in bed, I checked before I came up here. She’s okay. She’s not—“ laying on the carpet floor in a pool of blood, waiting for Izuku to come home and find her. “It was just a dream.” The fear it carves into him is very, very real.
He continues to trace the skyline.
Time is an abstract concept at the moment, but he knows it’s been a while when he spots an incoming figure.
Eraserhead’s demeanor is still pretty much the same as it is in the classroom: straight to the point and no room for nonsense. “You should be asleep.”
Izuku snorts, looking away from his teacher. “According to other people, I should be a lot of things.” Like useless, and weak. Oh, can’t forget about worthless, though one could argue useless means the same thing.
Eraserhead sighs — he tends to do that whenever Izuku’s around — and looks around before taking a seat five feet from Izuku. “So, what was it?”
Izuku‘s already refocused on the fascinating pattern streetlights made, he has to mentally insert himself back into the conversation. “Hm?”
“The nightmare, what was it?”
Izuku scowls. “Who says it was a nightmare?” He demands, “Even if it was, why would I tell you?”
“Kid,” He’s already breaking out the ‘don’t pull this shit’ tone, joy. “you do not want to play this game right now.”
“Maybe I do. Maybe I’ve dedicated myself to the goal of making your life harder.”
“Midoriya.”
Izuku bites the inside of his cheek, already regretting what he’s about to say. “It was my mom, okay? Every time I close my eyes, there’s a fifty-fifty chance I see her bleeding out on the floor.” And if his brain really wants to screw him over, Kuroda’s there, too, with his mangled arm and dead, accusing eyes.
Eraserhead doesn’t day anything for a while. He just sits there next to Izuku, staring out at the skyline with him. Izuku almost laughs at the sight they must make, a couple of jackasses up on a roof.
“You’ll think it’s rich, coming from me, but it helps to talk about it.”
He’ll probably take offense if Izuku comments on how he’s starting to sound like Kuroda. Instead, he shakes his head, “I have people. I’m handling it.”
“You’re up here at,” He checks his phone, “two-thirty in the morning. It’s not handled.”
Why is it that every time Izuku talks to his teacher, he ends up being judged? He doesn’t even have a response to that because it’s true. It’s true and Izuku wants to be angry but he can’t, all he is is tired. “Look, we’ve done this song and dance before, let’s just skip the part where we have a heart-to-heart and get to the point where you tell me to fuck off and go the hell to sleep?”
“Language.” Eraserhead ignores how Izuku snorts at that. “First off, I’m not going to dismiss what’s going on with you. If I’ve given you that impression, then I’m obviously doing something wrong — as a teacher and as a hero.”
“Hey, don’t knock yourself too hard. You’re actually one of the best teachers I’ve had.”
“I’ve only had you a portion of the year.”
Izuku shrugs yet again, “Most of my teacher’s have been shit.” He admits, “None of them wanted to defend the only Quirkless kid in school. It was easier to ignore the problem, ignore me. You, at least, care enough to call me out.”
There’s a definite shift in Eraserhead’s tone. “I see.”
Izuku bobs his head at that. “It’s kind of a shit show.” He watches as the red flashing of an ambulance goes down one of the side-streets, the wailing siren a mere whisper from this height.
“You‘ve never considered pursuing legal action?”
He shakes his head. “People would ask too many questions about my life.” Like just how a Quirkless kid could outperform the hundreds of other, powered students that applied to Yuuei. Kei could definitely file a negligence lawsuit, but that would require testimonies and long hours in a courtroom Izuku simply doesn’t want to go through. He does not have the time or the energy to put up with that shit.
It’s for the best his old bullies and enabling teachers to forget about him. Just...store any memory of the helpless boy he used to be in the darkest corner of their minds so they can look into the mirror and tell themselves they‘re good people.
He switches the topic. “I updated the file I have on the League.”
“Oh?” Eraserhead leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Any new observations?”
It’s the way he says it — like he’s in a tactics meeting, not sitting with an emotional teenager on a roof — that has Izuku opening his mouth. “Shigaraki might have a delay time when disintegrating certain materials. Synthesized fabrics and living tissue take longer than organic, non-living material.”
“So, hypothetically, you could take him on if you were wearing nothing but spandex?”
Izuku chokes on his spit. “Did— did you just make a joke?” Eraserhead’s face remains carefully blank, but Izuku swears up and down he sees a little quirk of his lips. “Oh my god. It must be the end-times.”
“I do have a sense of humor, you know.”
“Logically? Yeah, I know. You can’t have a stick up your ass all the—“ He stops that train of thought when Eraserhead shoots him a look. “I guess I’ve never gotten the chance to see it myself.”
“Yeah, admin wouldn’t appreciate me joking with the students. Not after what happened last time.”
Izuku can’t help it, he laughs. “Last time? There’s a story there.”
“There is, but you’re not gonna hear it.”
This is probably the first time Izuku’s seen his teacher be anything besides irritated, he’s not letting this go. “Oh come on! You’ve seen me do all kinds of stupid stuff.”
There’s a definite smirk on Eraserhead’s face. “I have. Still not telling you.”
Smug bastard.
The residual fear from his nightmare dies, giving one last breath and leaving as an exhale. They’re quiet for a bit, just sitting there, watching the city. Thing is, Eraserhead isn’t terrible. He just has a different set of values, a set that often puts him in Izuku’s way. Were Izuku an adult, maybe they’d be friends. The kind that we’re constant assholes to each other.
“how about this: I’ll tell you what happened, if you answer a question for me.”
Any other time, Izuku would’ve said no...but sitting here, so far up from the ground, his chest still warm from laughter and fear a distant memory, it makes things a bit easier. “Sure.”
“How did being Kuroko save your life?”
Ah, he should’ve expected Eraserhead to pick up on that. “You already know I was bullied.” Has he ever told anyone this? The question makes him pause. “It got worse the closer I got to high school. Everyone and their mother knew I wanted to be a hero.”
Eraserhead is silent.
“Bakugou used to be the worst of them.” Crackling palms, a smile too sinister to be a kid’s. “He wanted to be the only one from our school to get into Yuuei. The teacher mentioned I planned on applying, too. He...didn’t take that well.”
His teacher’s face is blank again, but that set of his mouth promises nothing good. “Hey,” Izuku says, “it’s different now that I’m at Yuuei. I don’t take his shit anymore, and he can’t do anything without risking expulsion.” Izuku looks back to the city, “he’s actually mellower than he was before. But that isn’t the point here.” Here we go, moment of truth. He hopes it doesn’t bite him in the ass. “He didn’t like the idea of me ruining his grand plan, I guess. So he told me to take a leap off the roof and pray I’d have a Quirk in the next life.”
“I didn’t, as you can see.” He adds quickly, “But it was a close thing. There’s only so much you can put up with, you know? I was walking home when I met Kuroda. He was a lot cooler back then. This mysterious guy who took a guy twice his size down without breaking a sweat. Then he just calls up the police and tells me we gotta get away from the crime scene cause what he did was technically vigilantism.”
“Reflex Quirk?”
“Reflex Quirk.” Izuku confirms, “Though he calls it his ‘Spidey Sense’. Made me read through a two-foot stack of comics to understand all his references.” He got at least four paper cuts in the endeavor, but Kuroda’s face when he quipped an obscure comic book fact made it more than worth it. “He was different from any adult I ever met. Everyone else, I could see the pity in their eyes, you know? Even my mom. Kuroda — he never looked at me like that. He looked me in the eye told me I could make a difference.“ he gestures to himself, “So yeah, that’s how all this got started. Being Kuroko gave me an outlet for all those bad feelings, right when they were getting to be too much.”
“And now that it’s gone, they’re building up again.” Eraserhead surmises with a sigh.
“Like I said, it’s kind of a shit show.” Izuku shuffles, turning to face his teacher. “Now that I’ve told you my oh-so-tragic origin, you have to tell me what got admin to ban you from telling jokes.”
Eraserhead ducks his head. It doesn’t fool Izuku for a second, he can see that smile a mile away. Which is weird, cause he’s pretty sure this is the first genuine, non-sarcastic smile he’s seen on the guy’s face. “Yeah, a deal’s a deal.”
Things aren’t okay, not by a long shot. But under a dull night sky, laughing with the kind of airiness he thought lost to time, they’re a bit more bearable. That’s all he can hope for.
——
Three hours of sleep leave him in an eye-opening spiteful haze. Nedzu wants to pair him up with Nighteye and Toogata? Sure, fine. What the fuck ever. He has some sort of meeting with the hero after school, so Izuku decides to get a step ahead of the game and do some recon.
Still, talking to Toogata feels like peeling away a band-aid. Which is why he hits the “fuck it” button and rips the thing off. “Toogata, can I talk to you?”
It’s lunchtime. The sun’s shining bright and he’s got maybe three hours before Armageddon. He might be exaggerating here, but at this point he’s fairly certain he and Nighteye won’t be able to be in the same room without him trying to throw at least one punch. He’s done his research, and from the brief meeting they had when Izuku generously handed them all his information on the League, he’s pretty sure Nighteye’s going to be an asshole about this whole arrangement.
There’s a girl with him, a ridiculous amount of blue hair on her head that reaches mid-thigh Before tapering off. She looks between him and Izuku with interest. “Do you know him, Toogata?”
Toogata smiles like the sun, something that makes Izuku almost regret asking in the first place. “Yeah, this is the guy who got transferred to 1-A. The one I was telling you about.”
Izuku takes a physical step back when she shoves herself into his personal space. “Really?” She inspects him like he’s some sort of fascinating animal at a zoo, “If you’re Quirkless, how did you get transferred?”
He didn’t have enough sleep to deal with this shit. He bristles, ready to spit out a few pointed words before Toogata drags her away from him and out of the line of fire. “Sorry about her.” He’s quick to say, “Sometimes her mouth gets ahead of her. I’m sure she didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”
The rude girl juts her hand out. “Hi! My name’s Hado Nejire.”
Izuku eyes the offered appendage like it might bite him. “Midoriya Izuku.” He replies, decidedly not taking her hand. He looks at Toogata again, “Well?”
The guy’s all to happy to agree. How can anyone can stay that cheery? It’s gotta be exhausting. “Sure. What about?”
“I kind of wanted to talk about it privately.”
Hado claps her hands, “No problem! I’ll see you later, Toogata.” She hops off the table she was sitting on and honest to god skips away. Do all upperclassmen have annoying, bubbly personalities? Statistically, no, but he’s yet to meet one. Please let him meet one soon, Izuku won’t be able to take all this cheeriness for much longer.
Toogatas a bit more serious than the last time they talked, so at least there’s that. “Hey, I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I really am sorry—“
“I’m over it.” Izuku lies, “It’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, anyways. What can you tell me about Nighteye’s Quirk?”
Toogata’s lips thin, “Ah, that’s a bit of a touchy subject. You wouldn’t believe the amount of Non-Disclosure Agreements I had to sign before even working for him.”
“So you can’t tell me anything?” Izuku fakes a disappointed sigh, storing away the bubbling frustration for later. “I guess I should have expected that.”
His hands are a blur as he frantically says, “Wait! I can tell you one thing, at least.”
Izuku really should feel bad for playing Toogata like this, but he honestly can’t give a damn.
Toogata bites his lip, looking around for Nighteye like the guy‘ll pop out of nowhere if he says it. “I can’t say much — I wont betray Sir’s trust like that — but eye contact has something to do with how he reads your future.”
Eye contact. Okay. Vague as fuck, but Izuku can work with it. “Thanks.” He turns around and makes to leave.
“Wait,” Mirio calls after him “is that all you wanted to talk about?”
Izuku pauses and turns around. “Yeah. What were you expecting?“
“Well, I did make it my goal to be your friend.” Toogata hops up from the table and approaches. “Maybe we could learn more about each other? We’re gonna be working together soon, hopefully.”
Izuku weighs his options. On one hand, Toogata, on the other, he could learn a bit more about Nighteye himself, if not how his Quirk works. Izuku sighs and takes one for the team. “Sure.”
Toogata lights up like Izuku just agreed to be his best man at the wedding. “Awesome!” He jogs to catch up with Izuku, “What do you like to do for fun?”
“Reading.” Izuku deadpans. Scouring over police reports and speculation on the League counts, right? “What’s working for Nighteye like?”
“He’s really tough.” Toogata admits, “Man, those first few months, I thought I was gonna die! But he’s a great teacher, I would be nowhere near where I am today if it wasn’t for him.”
“Yeah. I watched your first year sports festival.”
Toogata isn’t embarrassed by this, he just laughs. “Yeah, I was a real mess! Hey, what’s your favorite color?”
It continues like this until the bell rings. By then, Izuku knows all about Toogata’s likes and dislikes, his friend Amajiki Tamaki, and that he loves dogs. Yet for all Izuku’s newfound Toogata trivia, he still knows next to nothing about Nighteye. A hardass that happens to be good at teaching and needs eye contact for his Quirk to work, Izuku wants to hit his head against the wall because that’s the exact same description as Eraserhead. He’s gotten nowhere and made Toogata think he was genuinely interested in being the guy’s friend. Fuck.
English is now his unofficial brainstorm class. Mic doesn’t know the first thing about interacting with Izuku, so he prefers to ignore him — nothing new there — and call on other students. Izuku takes out his notebook and taps the empty page with his pen. Breathing in, he gets to work, writing out every possible way Nighteye could use his Quirk with eye contact. It could be like Eraserhead, who only needs to look at the person, or it could be that he needs to meet eye-to-eye with the person. How long could he keep it activated, anyways? Izuku bets finding Sensei’s real name wouldn’t be as hard as figuring this bastard out.
English ends and Izuku’s got two things: jack and shit. Final bell rolls around and he has three things: jack, shit, and a fuck-ton of frustration because of the first two things. Nighteye’s office isn’t even walking distance, Izuku’s gotta take the bus to get there. He stands in front fo the regular looking building and is relieved it doesn’t look like other, more garish hero agencies.
The doorbell rings when Izuku pushes it open. The waiting room he steps into is spacious, with white tile floors and equally white walls. Tasteful furniture sits to the side, a handful of hero magazines resting on the coffee table. It’s so standard business-esque Izuku has half the mind to recheck the address he’d been given. It’s the woman that pops up behind the desk that convinces him otherwise. He looks away from the barely covered bottom half of her breasts with heated cheeks. Only in heroism is half-nudity acceptable dress-code. Then again, who’s he to judge?
Bubble Girl — he’s done his research, okay? She was listed as the only female hero/sidekick working here — smiles. “Oh! You must be Midoriya. Sir told me you would be coming today.” She gestures to the furniture Izuku noted when he came in, “Please, take a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
He gives her a quick thankful nod before doing what she said. The couch cushions sink under him, making him bounce a little. He takes out his phone and sends a quick text.
Sent: 3:25 PM
To: Fox Mook
Bout to see Sir Asshole. If I don’t text you in thirty minutes, avenge me.
Received: 3:26 PM
From: Fox Mook
*thumbs up emoji*
Who taught Kuroda Emojis? Izuku’s gonna have to have a serious talk with them. No time for that now, though, Izuku can see Bubble Girl picking up the phone. Sure enough, she waves him over once she’s hung up.
“He’s ready to see you now,” she tells him. Pointing down the hallway to her right, she adds, “his office is the last door on the left. Good luck!”
He thanks her and starts to head down the hall. The closer he gets to the end of it, the faster his heart gets. He scowls and wipes his palms against the straps of his backpack.
The door to Nighteye’s office is no different from the other doors. Izuku stares at it for a whopping two seconds before he forces down any apprehension he has and knocks.
“Come in.”
Izuku opens the door and — holy hell that is a lot of merchandise. Almost every available piece of wall space is covered in an All Might poster. Izuku can spot a biography or two about the hero on the bookshelf behind Nighteye’s desk. Mercifully, there is no memorabilia on the guy’s desk. Izuku might have laughed out loud if there was. He’s already on Nighteye’s shit list, no need to move himself further up on it.
Speak of the devil, Nighteye looks him up and down from that cozy aforementioned desk. From Izuku’s past experience, the guy’s expressions vary between “constipated” to “your very presence insults me”. Today, he looks like he’s solidly in the middle. “Well, I suppose we should get to it.”
Izuku doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even sit down until Nighteye sighs again and says “You can sit down.” If Nighteye wants to play the stubborn asshole, Izuku’s gonna dish it back tenfold, cause that’s just how he works now.
“I won’t mince words with you, I did not want you to come here for your ‘internship’.” Nighteye begins, “But when All Might himself asked me to do it, it was hard to say no.”
Hold up. “All Might told you to do this?” Izuku repeats, “What the hell possessed him to do that?”
Nighteye looks genuinely surprised, which is the first sign to Izuku that some tomfuckery is about. “I was under the impression you knew already.”
Great, now Nighteye’s keeping him in the dark about something. “Look, the few times I’ve actually talked to the guy, he’s either shot my dreams down, attempted horribly at small talk, or carried my unconscious body out of a villain hideout.”
“So that’s it, then? He chooses you as his successor, even when you have no idea what that means?” Nighteye scowls, “Typical. That man always looked past what was right in front of him.”
Ooookay, this is veering from “odd” territory to “what the fuck is going on”. Izuku leans back in his seat. “Look, can we get to the point? I’ve got places to be, and I won’t be late because you wanna lament about some lover’s quarrel between you and All Might.”
Nighteye honest-to-god splutters, “A-All Might and I are not involved—!“
“Hey, gay rights got legalized...two hundred years ago? Do who you want, man.” Nighteye’s level up from spluttering to flustered blushing is impossible not to smile at.
Nighteye forces his mouth shut and breathes heavily out his nose. “Eraserhead told me you would be problematic. I’d hoped he was exaggerating, but now I see I was wrong.”
“Well, I’ve always been an overachiever.” Izuku quips back. “Seriously though, are you going to tell me what being ‘his successor’ means?”
“If he hasn’t told you yet, it’s not my place to do so.” The guy looks like he swallowed a lemon and downed it with vinegar. “Either way, Toogata Mirio would be a far better choice.”
Ah, the plot thickens, shame Izuku still doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. “Toogata?” Izuku asks, “The guy almost flashed me the first time we met. Though I bet that permeation Quirk makes him unstoppable, combat-wise.” Has Izuku ever seen Toogata in action? Could he even stand up against a Quirk like that? How the hell is he supposed to hit the guy? Izuku purses his lips and files those thoughts away. Questions for later.
“All the more reason he should’ve been chosen over you.”
“Look, if he wants the successor thing so bad, he can have it. I’m not all that interested in All Might anymore.”
Nighteye slams his fist on the desk. “All Might is the greatest hero of all time! You should be honored he would even think of you as a candidate!”
“I don’t even know what I’m a candidate for!” Izuku rebuts, throwing his hands up, “And — side note — the guy isn’t a god! I’ve seen his real form. You’ve seen it, too.” Izuku calls it a win to see Nighteye surprised at the admission, “He’s been reduced to a three hour time limit and coughing up blood every other moment. He made himself the only pillar society sits on, and we’re weaker because of it. What do you think will happen when he retires? Or worse, is killed in a fight?” Izuku shakes his head, “We’d go back to square one: with villains running around unchecked and heroes trying desperately to pick up the slack he left.”
And oh man, Izuku’s definitely touched a nerve there. Nighteye shoots up from his desk, all sharp angles and righteous fanboy fury. “Oh, and being a vigilante has made you so much wiser? Ever since Yuuei gave you that second chance, you’ve been nothing but disrespectful and insubordinate, verbally attacking whenever a hero comes within five feet of you. You’re no better than a chained up dog.”
The thrum of Izuku’s heart rushes through his ears. His face heats up and he curls his fists tighter. “Better than being a pathetic man who gets his kicks talking shit to a teenager.” He turns around, making sure he puts enough pressure on his heel to make the tile squeak annoyingly. “It’s obvious Nedzu was wrong about your ability to be civil. I’ll see myself out.”
“You’ll sit down if you want any internship at all.”
Izuku clicks his tongue, “You see, that’s the thing.” He looks over his shoulder, “You’re overestimating how much I want this. I’ll put up with a lot of shit, but if this is what I have to look forward to for my internship?” He shakes his head, “I’ll have Nedzu find someone else. Maybe they won’t be a complete asshole. But hey, I shouldn’t get my hopes up.” He’s got the door halfway open before Nighteye calls out.
“How about a challenge, then?”
Eh, Izuku’s already wasted his time coming out here, what’s a few more minutes? He turns around. “What kind?”
“A test of your fighting prowess.” Nighteye wields an office stamp up for Izuku to see. “If you can take this from me, I’ll take back everything I’ve said. I’ll even tell you what being All Might’s successor means.”
“And if I fail?”
“You do your internship here, by the book.”
Just when he thought Nighteye would say something that made sense. “I’m sorry, but weren’t you just talking about how you didn’t want me to intern here?”
“Do you agree to the terms or not?”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Izuku turns back around to face Nighteye. “Your Quirk is foresight, Nighteye.” Ugh, this sucks to say. “I don’t know how it works, but there’d be no chance of me winning once you activate it.”
“So you’ll give up? Just like that?” There’s an almost gleeful shine in the guy’s eyes. It’s more than unsettling.
And oh, Izuku would love to fall for that bait, he really would, but as much as he hates to say it, the days for being reckless are over. “More of a strategic retreat, really.” He replies, “I don’t have all the information right now. But I’ve spent years observing and taking apart Quirks, how long do you think it’ll take for me to figure out yours?”
Nighteye says nothing, but the set of his mouth tells Izuku all he needs to hear.
“Toogata said you were a good mentor, but I’ll level with you, I don’t see it. So far, you’ve just insulted me and dragged me into some schoolyard slap-fight between you and All Might. Maybe vigilantism isn’t up to your standards, but it works for me, and that’s what matters.” Izuku rubs his neck, remembering how it felt for the last few scabs to flake off. “I don’t know why you’ve got beef with me, or what’s going on between you and All Might, but keep in mind if you push me, I’m pushing back. I didn’t deal with one schoolyard bully just to pick up another.”
Nighteye is livid, but unlike minutes before, he keeps it hidden under a mask of pained professionalism. “Noted, Midoriya. I’m sure you can see yourself out.”
“Yes fucking sir.” Izuku does a mocking salute and closes the door, leaving the asshole hero to sit alone in his office. He waves goodbye to Bubble Girl with a fake smile and drops it the moment he turns away. Stepping out into the great outdoors, Izuku sets off for Kuroda’s apartment.
Fuck today.