A/N: So, here's the second chapter.
As always,
Have fun Human beings.
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Izuku blinks at the title of his schedule. It says "Joint Timetable 1-A & 1-B (If Shouta actually has students this time o-)". "Eh, Aizawa-sensei?" he asks the man who shucks the other possible timetables into the trash bin.
"What is it, Midoriya?"
"I-Is that a microphone emoji?"
Aizawa-sensei raises an eyebrow and motions for Izuku to let him take a look at the paper again. The boy obliges. Tired, bloodshot eyes fly over the first sentence and he sighs. It's not a normal sigh by any means - it manages to convey fondness, exasperation as well as disbelief all in one.
Izuku thinks he hears a muffled "Goddamn it, Hizashi" but Aizawa-sensei just hands him the schedule back and nods. "Yes" he says out loud, "No wonder that, you'll have lessons with Mic's class after all."
"W-With Present Mic's class?!" Izuku eagerly asks, "He's the homeroom teacher of 1-B?"
"Yes. And your English teacher." Aizawa supplies.
For a moment, it seems as if Izuku's vibrating with the amount of enthusiasm he displays. He now happily reads over the rest of his timetable. In the mornings, he'll have homeroom with Aizawa-sensei in class 1-A. However, homeroom isn't the only class Eraserhead teaches. Izuku frowns at the afternoon classes he apparently has twice a week. It doesn't really say which subject it is; it's only marked as being with Eraserhead and, just as homeroom, 1-A exclusive.
"What about the afternoon classes?"
Izuku gulps when he sees how sinister Aizawa-sensei grins. "Let's just call them Underground Heroics. I have to be honest with you; someone like you will have to rely on stealth, dirty fighting, weapons and intelligence to become a hero, either underground or limelight. Vlad King can teach you the basics and I'll drill tactics and tricks I've learnt on the streets into you. Do you have any other afternoon activities? If so, you'll have to tell me whether they overlap with the plan."
The boy thinks about his schedule for a moment and then shakes his head. "No" he tells the man, "I have a parcours class on Saturday, another one on Tuesday. Taekwondo is on Wednesday and late in the evening on Saturday and football on Friday and Sunday. Mondays and Thursdays are pretty much free normally, so that's quite well. Eh - I mean..." sheepishly, he shuts up. His teacher's grin somehow intensifies.
"That's good. I won't have to go easy on you then." Izuku has probably just condemned himself to a life full of pain. Shouldn't he feel a bit less giddy about that? Ah, well...
"I'll see you tomorrow, Midoriya." Sensei grabs his yellow sleeping bag and shuffles out of classroom 1-A. Izuku stares after him, still not truly comprehending this day's events. One cannot fault him for that, in all honesty. This day felt like a week. Maybe it has something to do with how quickly everyone else had been expelled.
In a haze, the fifteen year old trots out of UA's facility and to the train station. On his way, he sees a villain fight from afar. A heroine called Stonehunch fires pebbles at high speed out of her rocky hunchback at a sickly thin man with sharp, pointy feet. Izuku knows the heroine will win because the villain already looks as if he's nearly keeling over.
He doesn't unpack his Hero Analysis notebook (current number: 16) because he's pretty sure he wrote down a page or two about Stonehunch in the 14th one. Absent-mindedly, he throws a glance at his phone. The train will arrive in twenty minutes anyways. It's not as if anyone but his mom is waiting for him at home, though, so even if he misses it no harm's done. He swallows down a bitter sigh, adjusting his subtle dark blue All Might backpack on his sore shoulders. The Sir Nighteye charm rustles against the fabric.
Today, the weather's objectively beautiful. A mostly cloudless sky lets the sun through perfectly. It isn't even uncomfortably hot. Apart from a couple of other people, he's alone at the train station. That's no wonder as Aizawa-sensei's test hasn't lasted longer than the usual opening ceremony. Izuku is surprised the principal allowed his homeroom teacher to skip it. Then again, Aizawa-sensei probably just smiled at his boss once and Nedzu caved in. Those smiles... Izuku shudders when he thinks about them.
He wishes he could grin like that. It would definitely scare the hell out of villains. Is Eraserhead's smile the underground equivalent to All Might's?
"U-Um, e-e-excuse m-me?" a timid voice asks directly next to his ear. Izuku, who had been too invested in his thought process, shrieks and with adrenaline pumping in his veins he spins around, punching forward reflexively. Only after he hears a sickeningly crunch the freckled boy stops in his tracks. He winces at the sight of a boy holding his nose. Red liquid drops onto the asphalt below. A couple of seconds later, the realization settles in. Izuku has probably broken someone's nose just now... oh. Oh, shit.
"J-Jeez... are you alright?" the green haired boy kneels down, carefully laying a hand on the other boy's shoulder. Indigo-coloured eyes widen in shock. Suddenly, Izuku finds himself with an aching behind, sitting on the ground as he stares at the retreating back of the person he's injured. The guy is running away, Izuku thinks shell-shocked. The guy is running away from him. Well, he did pretty much slam his fist into the other's face. He guesses this sort of behaviour warrants a flight instinct.
Izuku wonders, though. Hasn't that been a UA uniform he just saw on the boy? Did he break one of his future lessonmates' (because, well, they aren't in his class, those students in 1-B) nose? Damn, he hopes not. That would be awkward as hell. He groans. It already is awkward as hell.
He thinks about attempting to follow the boy - just to make sure he gets treated, of course - but there's absolutely no way he can actually find him. The shy teen was pretty damn fast... perhaps even faster than Izuku who has been playing football for four years and running parcours since he was thirteen.
Thankfully, his decision is taken care of in the form of the train pulling up to the station. He finds a seat next to one of the windows and lets his reddened cheek rest against the cool glass. Now that the shock has worn off, he feels a stab of guilt and embarrassment in his heart.
At least his reflexes are nothing to joke about if one blends out the fact that he hadn't even noticed the boy before he'd breathily spoken practically into Izuku's ear.
Situational awareness seems to be something he'll learn in Underground Heroics - now, at least, he knows he needs those afternoon classes with Aizawa-sensei.
A good quarter hour later, when the freckled youth has stopped looking like a tomato, a robotic voice announces his station will be the next destination. As usual, he stands up sooner than necessary, manoeuvring through the narrow space between the two seat rows. His hand automatically reaches for a pole to steady his equilibrium and large green orbs lazily watch buildings drift past. The train's fast; it'll arrive shortly.
Something prickles in Izuku's neck. At first he pushes it aside but then it becomes stronger.
Unexpectedly, a strange sense of loneliness settles in his stomach... albeit... it comes across differently than a normal feeling. There's something behind him. He knows, he knows, he knows that something is there. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, turning ever so slightly to assess the people. A young mother cradles her baby in her arms, gently shushing it while keeping the stroller from rolling off with the tip of her boot. Then, on the other end of the single seat bench facing the train's door, a middle-aged man in dirty blue overalls supports his head with an equally muddied palm. He has his eyes closed so he can't be the one who lets his skin crawl.
Izuku ignores the two or three passengers who stand off to the side, waiting with bored expressions for the train station. He casts them aside because, for a moment, it's as if he looks at the bottom of an ocean. His airways clog, unable to accept oxygen - how should they, how could they when he's sinking like a deadweight; down, down into the deepest of seas where no man has ever been before?
Midoriya Izuku is alone. He has always been alone.
"I'm sorry"
"Quirkless? Ew! No wonder your name can be read as Deku!"
"He's weird." "Yeah, right? Doesn't even have a quirk."
"Midoriya studies again. Well, it's all he ever does." "For what, though? Someone like him can't be a hero."
"Izukkun, why do you try so hard to become a hero? With your grades you could be everything else!"
"I'm sorry"
"I'm sorry"
"I'm sorry"
His body convulses, involuntarily shudders in pure fear. "When I die, I'm dying alone." echoes through his mind like an indoctrinated truth. He has never felt so vulnerable before - utterly at his own panic's mercy, trapped inside his head. Izuku's body betrays him, step by step repelling his determination and will.
However, reality falls into place soon enough. Green eyes frantically search for a sign of bewilderment on the other passengers' visages. No one is disturbed, the peace in this train cart has never been endangered. What a charade. He doesn't want to be pulled into the abyss of loneliness again... but Izuku is a stubborn one. When he knows that there's something terribly wrong he just has to investigate.
The man still doesn't look like much - old, worn, wrinkles caved into the surface of his saggy skin. Though, where black holes used to be are now mind-numbingly normal human eyes. What has happened? Has Izuku imagined the blind fear? Is he going insane? Firstly he injures someone and now he's fantasizing about an old man being... what exactly? A monster? A creature straight out of the worst kinds of horror stories?
He lets his lungs fill with air - sweet, wonderful air - then he slowly exhales. Above him, coming from the speakers, he faintly hears the announcement that he finally (and hasn't it been too long? The time feels so insanely off) can exit the train. The boy's heart still beats harshly against his ribcage, in an even harder pace than it had done after Aizawa-sensei's evaluation.
As soon as the door opens, he bolts out fast. He can't help himself but craning his neck back one last time to see that man.
The stranger is looking directly at Izuku. His eyes crinkle in the mock motion of a genuine smile.
And now he knows that the loneliness isn't a by-product of his fantasy. Because it tries to claw itself into Izuku's brain again. Before it can occur, luckily, the door closes.
He watches the train leave the station. Yes, the incident was very odd. Yes, the old man's quirk was probably just something that activates on its own. Yes, Izuku shouldn't immediately jump to conclusions and interpret the scene as something other than a misunderstanding. But somehow a foreboding, raw voice screams in his mind.
It screams that this isn't over yet.
It screams that this has only just begun.
And Izuku can't do anything else than to wander homewards and wish for his instincts to be wrong.
The sun is bright, the sky cloudless and it's early afternoon when the freckled teen fingers the keys for his house out of his pocket.
"Mom, I'm back!" he calls, carelessly chucking his dark red sneakers in the general direction of the shoe rack and runns his hand once through forest green hair which isn't curly so much as it is plain messy.
"Izukkun!" Inko answers back joyously, stepping out of the kitchen to properly greet her son. Izuku blushes a bit when her gentle arms draw him into a tight embrace. Obviously the woman notices the flustered expression and laughs. "We're not even in public and I'm still managing to embarrass you?"
"No! No... I'm just... I'm out of it today. It's been a weird."
"Come on, sit down and tell me all about UA. How was it? Is it as big inside as it looks outside? Is your teacher nice? Better yet -" she pauses, hope flashing behind her eyes, "are your classmates nice?"
"Eh..." the teenager sits down and decides to unfasten his tie (god, he hates those things - he can't even tie them right or else they'd feel too constricting) and replies: "Well, first of all, the school's really huge. Like - enormous! Even the doors honestly were twice as big as normals ones. And my teacher's so cool! It's Eraserhead, mom! I have Eraserhead as my homeroom teacher!"
"The underground hero you like so much?!" Inko intercepts in disbelief.
"Yeah, it's really him! And Present Mic's gonna be my English teacher!" the boy squeals.
"No way!"
"Yes, for real!"
Inko adapts a more concerned face. "A-And your classmates, Izukkun?"
Awkwardly, Izuku clears his throat. "Well... you see... I sort of don't have them anymore?"
She frowns confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"They w-were expelled? All nineteen of them?" Izuku scratches his cheek sheepishly, "Aizawa-sensei - Eraserhead, that is - threw them out after they... well, I don't know the reason for some of them but a couple were pretty rude. To me... they were pretty rude to me."
Inko blinks, trying to process the information. Then she huffs. "Good!" she says, "Finally a teacher who actually cares about you!"
"Mom" Izuku rolls his eyes.
"Don't mom me, Izukkun. You know it's true - and forgive me my language here - that your middle school teachers were downright shit." Inko fiercely declares, catching Izuku off-guard with the unusual explicitness. She's right, though, the boy silently thinks to himself. Aizawa-sensei is better than all of his old teachers combined. It's kind of sad that he can say that with a 99% conviction before he even had his first lesson with the scruffy man.
Another question pulls him back from his musings: "So, how are you going to be taught?"
For a moment, Izuku doesn't quite understand but he catches on soon. "Mostly, I'll stay with class 1-B. Didn't met any of them yet... I hope." The last part is mumbled quietly to himself as he thinks back to the boy with elf ears and indigo hair.
"I'm sure they'll be alright." his mother optimistically states. He shrugs, not really keen on giving the notion any attention right now. Sure, if 1-B's magically any better than the ex-members of 1-A then that's great but otherwise he doesn't want to think about them quite yet when he can live for another eighteen hours in blissful ignorance.
"When's lunch going to be ready?" he asks instead.
His mother suddenly looks at him with an underlying sadness which makes Izuku feel exposed and like a fragile glass figurine.
"In an hour, dear."
Izuku nods sharply, stands up, grabs his backpack and retreats to his room. He lets the bag fall onto the floor after he closes the door and exhales heavily. It's dark in here - only a few rays of sunshine filter through nearly closed blinds. They shine onto some of his All Might merchandise, drawing reflexions on their plastic surfaces.
He unbuttons his jacket and the white shirt underneath until his chest is halfway exposed. Izuku lowers himself on the bureau chair. He grabs a random history book and starts reading on the page where he has left a bookmark last night.
"Midoriya studies again. Well, it's all he ever does."
Izuku snorts, lips contorting in a bitter grimace.
"Well, it's all he ever does."
What else should he do, though? It's not as if he's ever had any friends to hang out with.
A/N: Thank you for reading.
I hope I see you next chapter too
Anyways,
Bye Human beings!