"I have your test results."
Izuku hums, not looking at Recovery Girl even as she speaks. He swings his feet over the edge of the bed, staring at his cat socks. He lost his shoe privileges about an hour ago, as he accidentally managed to throw them off the roof during the storm that's still rocking the entire building and land them in a nice, large pile of mud. He had to put them in the wash, and they won't be done for a little while more at least.
He thinks it was worth it, even though it earned him a five minute long lecture from Snipe about not playing around on the roof during a storm.
It was kind of funny, Izuku contends. The only reason Snipe scolded him to begin with is because Vlad insisted someone had to, as neither Yamada, Aizawa, nor Yagi were available at the time.
"Why don't you do it then if you're so upset about it, Kan?" Kayama snorts.
"Because I would be fired if I handled it my way," Vlad King responds, glaring daggers at Izuku, who's standing awkwardly beside Ectoplasm and avoiding eye contact. In this room full of abnormally large people, he feels like an ant.
It's kind of embarrassing to sit here and listen to them discuss who's going to lecture him. Kinda weird, too. What kind of functioning team does that? Still, it's probably better than all of them deciding to yell at him at once.
Kayama laughs. "C'mon, all the boy did was accidentally drop his shoes off the side."
"He threw them two hundred yards out, actually," Ectoplasm cuts in, clearing his throat. He's still wet due to having fetched Izuku's shoes for him. "We have video footage of him using his quirk to do it. Besides, he's not allowed on the roof. No students are."
Oh, shit. He really was caught in 4K quality.
At this, Kayama turns to look at Izuku. "Geez, kiddo, only two hundred yards? That's pretty low for you. Were ya not trying your best or something?"
Izuku fidgets with the muddy shoes in his hand, ashamed. "I was distracted."
"Can we focus on the important thing here? Somebody's gotta do something about this or I'm calling Nezu!" Vlad exclaims haughtily.
Across the room, Snipe gets up from his desk and sighs. "Fine. Guess I gotta do it. You know, you really are getting to be unbearable these days, Kan. Live a little."
He takes Izuku by the shoulder and leads him out of the room. They arrive fairly quickly at the laundry area on the other side of campus, where Snipe proceeds to give a long, 'straight from the UA policy handbook' talk to Izuku that even Aizawa would've been proud of.
It's so good that it probably should be life changing! But it isn't. It only makes Izuku want to do even more bad things.
"Your blood has changed again."
Izuku blinks, realizing he's still at the nurse's office. "Blood is always changing," he says automatically.
"Not like yours," she counters, and her arms are crossed. She's studying Izuku with a glint to her eyes.
He shrugs in response. "Well, two million new red blood cells are made every single second in the body, ma'am. Weird things are bound to happen."
"You may be able to get away with lying your ass off to everyone else around you, but not with me, boy. Look at me."
Slowly, Izuku looks up. He keeps his expression smooth, and he tries to hide the way his hands are itching to scratch at his back. He's sure she notices it anyway, as she's always been keen about that sort of stuff, but she doesn't mention it this time. "Yes?"
"What happened at Hosu?"
Well, that's blunt. Izuku wishes he had some water to make his throat not as dry. "I'm not sure what you're asking."
"I've been monitoring your blood and your healing progress. Everything was going relatively fine until just recently. Why is that?"
Izuku's nails dig into his palms. "I'm not really good at science, so I don't think I can—"
"I'll make this easier for you then." Recovery Girl tilts her head, fingers drumming along her skin. "Have there been any recent developments with One for All?"
"Not really," he says, thinking of the voices bickering at the back of his mind every now and then.
"What does that mean?"
He shrugs. "It means no."
"That's not reassuring."
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you want me to say."
"You could try the truth."
Izuku takes a long, deep breath in. When he lets it out, his chest quivers a little. He figures that's bad, but he doesn't pay any mind to it. So what if his throat has been itchy and his nose has been a little runny? And so what if he's had this horrible migraine for three days now? He can't be getting sick. There's no way.
So this is probably just a fluke.
"I'm not lying," he says.
"So if I call the detective in here and he asks you the same thing, you'll tell him the same thing?"
At the mention of Tsukauchi, Izuku falters a little. He pauses, biting the inside of his bottom lip. "He's kinda busy these days, so I don't think that would be plausible."
"I don't appreciate you avoiding my question, young man." Her words, though no-nonsense, aren't exactly mean. Izuku knows that Recovery Girl is being a lot nicer than she could be right now.
Izuku looks down at his lap, mulling over what she's asking. He knows how this looks to outsiders; he's not stupid.
A week ago, his recovery after the fire incident was going relatively smoothly. He was eating more, gaining more weight, having more regular moods, and becoming overall healthier than he's ever been. And now, after everything that's happened during Hosu... all of that seems to be in the trash.
But not just physically, on the outermost parts of himself. No, now it's all showing inside.
Recovery Girl did another routine blood test, and what she's most likely seeing is the result of more quirks being added to Izuku's body and nervous system. She's seeing everything his blood is doing to take it all in and replicate the DNA from those quirks. Without the DNA, Izuku can't have the functions.
But how can he tell her that? How is he supposed to explain that to her?
'Your blood has changed again.'
Yeah, because now Izuku has around ten more parts of himself to take in and grow around. He is constantly changing, and so his blood. Taking those quirks just made everything worse, really.
Because now someone has noticed it, and it's the worst case scenario that he could have ever imagined. This has always been one of his biggest fears: someone knowing.
It's only a matter of time before she puts the pieces together and is forced to tell.
"One for All has been growing stronger," Izuku settles on eventually, wishing the storm outside was somehow strong enough to drown out his entire being. "I feel I can do more things with it now. I can control it a little easier. But there's..." His tongue is sandpaper. He swallows back nothing but air and shakes his head, frustrated with himself. "There's nothing else that's new. Nothing important."
"So why is your body changing so drastically in such a short amount of time? If you were anyone else, Midoriya, you would be in a grave."
It's amusing to Izuku that that's not the first time he's heard that in a week's time. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it has nothing to do with One for All. I promise."
Recovery Girl studies him for a long moment. Her gaze searches him, but he doesn't continue or go back on what he said. He just lets the silence hang heavy in the air and hopes that she'll lay off of him.
The healer lets out a noncommittal noise. "Then what about your other quirk?"
"Boost?"
"Any developments with that?"
"Uh, no. One for All has strengthened it, of course, but if you're talking about recent stuff, no. It's... the same as always."
"I bet it is."
Izuku stares at her, heart racing as he waits to see the rest of her reaction. She rubs a hand down her face, seemingly exhausted, and Izuku hates that he's doing this to her. Hates that he's lying to her so openly and making her life so much more difficult than it should be. Her job is to protect and save, and by keeping his silence, Izuku is impeding on that.
"Young man, you are aware that for major injuries, I need to focus on specific parts of the body and be thinking about them in order to direct my quirk to heal those places, yes?" She barely waits for Izuku's nod before continuing. "If you told me, honestly this time, what is causing this to happen to you, I may be able to help. I can't promise that it will get rid of the problem, but it may make things better for you. More comfortable. I'm able to keep my mouth shut about the details if it means I can heal you to an extent. I can tell you that."
Izuku feels something warm spread throughout his veins. Having that option there is nice, though he knows it's unrealistic. She won't be able to heal him. What he has... it's an incurable disease. The only way anyone could fix the problem she's talking about is if they call All for One up and have him take back the quirks Izuku stole. All of them.
Only then would he be free from all of those heartaches.
But Izuku knows that even that is farfetched and not possible, so he has to be content the way he is.
"Thank you," he says quietly. "I appreciate it, ma'am, but it wouldn't do anything even if I told you. As I said before, this is just who I am. My blood has been like this since I was a kid."
Recovery Girl huffs and spins around in her chair, typing away on her computer. "Whatever, boy. Onto my other question: have you told Yagi about the damages that One for All is causing on your health?"
Izuku winces. "No, but I still don't think it's necessary! I already told you that One for All isn't what's causing this to—"
"Since you won't tell me anything more, that's what I'm going to assume. And All Might deserves to know that this is a possibility, so don't make excuses. I will tell him myself if you're having issues."
"But he's going to get upset if I make him think that the quirk he gave me is what's making me have problems! He—he'll be guilty! And he'll worry a lot! It's not a big deal!"
She whirls back around and points her cane at Izuku's chest, her fiery eyes narrowed. "I'm giving you three more days to do it yourself, and then I'm dragging the both of you in here and forcing it outta you in a more old fashioned way if I must, got it? I'm not sitting here and listening to your foolish shenanigans any longer!"
Izuku isn't even given the chance to argue, as he's then being ushered out of the room with a cane whacking at his heels.
He guesses he'll just have to find a way to tell Yagi the news gently, and soon.
The teachers have developed a system to help keep track of Izuku.
They all have their names in a list, even Vlad King, much to the man's own distaste, and are thus on a cycle to see who has to watch over Izuku on that given day.
It's a way to make things fair, Izuku figures, though he still thinks it's stupid. Why are the teachers creating more work for themselves? Why can't they let Izuku be alone? He's sure they have much better things to be doing.
Sure, some of them said that they really don't mind, as Izuku's pranks keep things livelier than they've been in years, but still.
His babysitter for the day is Nezu himself, which is fantastic saying as the mammal doesn't give a rat's ass (pun intended) about what he does or where he goes.
Izuku can do whatever he pleases for the time allotted where Nezu has to 'watch' him. He's not stupid, however. He knows Nezu really is watching him, just not physically.
No, the mammal is doing it in a creepy way. Through cameras. And maybe even a tracking signal coming from Izuku's phone! The boy already removed the one tracker on the inside of it, but he's unsure if there are more. He'd have to run it through a scanner. He'll make sure to do that before doing anything too incriminating.
The only bad thing about having Nezu watch over him is that everyone else knows the Principal isn't actually doing anything, so the stricter teachers (not naming names or anything... Vlad and Ectoplasm, surprisingly) make sure to pay extra attention to Izuku to make up for Nezu's leniency.
Which means that on Nezu days, Izuku is kept in check by nearly everyone.
It's extremely annoying, challenging, yet fun.
Well, for Izuku it's fun. He can't speak for some of the others. But what he can say for sure is that Chad King absolutely hates his guts by now.
The blood hero is fucking fast. Izuku never realized it before, but, hell, he'd even argue that Vlad King is faster than Aizawa in terms of reaction time. For such a big man, he doesn't hesitate or have any problems with moving around. He's quite durable, Izuku finds.
Scary, too. Really, really scary.
Also protective. Vlad King loves his dog, and he's very sensitive about what people say about her. Izuku made an offhand comment about how Vlad looks very similar to her, saying as he has prominent canines jutting out of his upper gums too. Izuku then asked politely if they both shared the same asshole personality, which was obviously too far.
This was made apparent when Vlad King stood up from his desk in the teacher's lounge and attempted to grab Izuku to get him to apologize publicly.
So, naturally, now Izuku is running from him. He only feels a little bit bad.
For the dog. Not for Chad.
Another arc of hardened blood attempts to catch Izuku in a cage, but the boy squeaks and ducks under it. He wills his legs to move faster and is off again like lightning, favoring his arm. It's aching, which is admittedly a lot better than being numb like it was before, but it still hurts.
It's so uncomfortable that Izuku has to grit his teeth to stop himself from making some embarrassing noise.
He has to bounce off the walls and corners with Boost to make sure Chad King won't be in range. He can't risk the vents, as the man could probably yank him out of them with his quirk, so he has no other choice but to keep running until Vlad either calls it quits and leaves or until Izuku can find a hiding spot.
Izuku pants, trying to think of something smart fast. The muscles in his legs start to spasm, and Izuku wants to cry. It's like the universe is trying to tell him to give up and just accept his fate.
His knee buckles when he rounds a corner, and as a result he goes slamming into the wall. He slides down it, eyes squeezed shut. Well, at least now his arm is numb again. That's a plus!
Izuku feels Vlad's power catching up; he'll be on him in a matter of seconds. He forces himself to his feet, powering up One for All as he does. He's sure as hell not going to lose like this. That's just pathetic!
He spots a neon green object high above, and it's like a silver lining has just shone down from the heavens. Perfect.
Izuku uses the wall behind him as a spring to go sailing all the way up, and he twists in midair so his feet hit the ceiling right as his fingers curl around the sticky smoke bomb he planted there for emergencies a couple weeks ago.
He pushes off, heading straight for where Vlad King is skidding to a halt below him. The pro hero's mouth falls open, and Izuku notices clearly the golden specks in those dark red eyes of his.
His blood spurts out immediately, surrounding Izuku as he gets closer, but the bomb hits first.
It lands at Vlad's feet and explodes on impact, covering the room instantaneously in black smoke. It's so thick that Izuku can't even see a few feet in front of his face. He has to rely on the feeling of Vlad King's quirk in order to plant his boots on the man's chest. The hero is sent skidding back, and before he can even shout anything in response, Izuku is taking off, back in the direction they came.
The smoke won't hinder the pro hero for long, so Izuku has to fall back on the one plan he's certain won't fail him: seeking refuge with another teacher.
And there's only one other teacher close by that Izuku knows will protect him from Vlad King's assault.
It takes less than five seconds for Izuku to find his quirk. He's teaching a class right now, and Izuku hesitates because of this, but then he hears Vlad King yell his name from a hallway away, and all of his qualms vanish.
"Mic-sensei!"
Izuku's screech echoes as he slams into the door. He rights himself and throws it open, the hair on the back of his neck rising at the feeling of Vlad getting even closer.
"Sensei!" Izuku stumbles inside and nearly falls on his ass immediately. "Sensei, hide me! Hide me!"
Izuku spots an unoccupied desk and grabs it, throwing it in front of the door after locking it.
When he turns around, Yamada is there with a panicked expression, and he grips Izuku's shoulders to get him to look at him. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Listener, what's—!"
"He's gonna kill me!" Izuku says breathlessly, pulling away from him. "I've gotta hide!"
The second he spots Yamada's desk, which is on the other side of the room and facing the door, Izuku is shooting over there. He jumps over it and then ducks to hide under the overhang, eternally grateful that the front of Yamada's desk goes all the way down and thus will cover Izuku from the view of anyone coming in.
Yamada still sounds worried. "Kiddo, what is going—"
Just then, the door bursts open, causing the desk that was propped up against it to fall to the floor. Izuku's breathing ceases completely, and the room, which was filled with the confused murmurs of the third year students, goes silent. It's so quiet that Izuku swears he can hear an eyelash drop onto the ground.
Did he see me?
Number one speaks up, sounding soft and amused. We'll find out soon enough.
Izuku brings his knees to his chest and doesn't make a sound, praying to whoever will hear him. He doesn't want to cause a bigger scene in front of all these people by getting caught by Vlad.
"Oh," Yamada says after another few moments, and the understanding in his voice almost makes Izuku give himself away by laughing. "Well, y'all, it seems we have a visitor."
"Where did he go?" Vlad asks, coming further into the room. His words are low and deadly, as if he doesn't want the other occupants to hear him.
Yamada makes a negative sound. "Who? I haven't seen anyone come around here recently. Right, class?"
The reply is immediate and uniform. Nearly everyone speaks up, voices strong. "Yes, sensei!"
"See?" Yamada continues, as if that proves his point.
"That grin on your face says otherwise, Mic."
"Grin? I'm just happy to be teaching. Not everyone is so grumpy all the time like you, Vlad King, pal. Come on, class, let's give him a warm welcome!" From this angle, Izuku can just about see the way Yamada raises his arms and tips his head to one side. "Actually, fun fact! Did you all know this man got an award for being the most unhappy student in his grade way back when? Super emo, amirite?"
Oh. My. God.
There are snickers around the class, and Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth to make sure none of the noises are coming from him.
"Mic," Vlad says, but he sounds almost sheepish.
"Dunno what to tell ya! I've just been teaching some good ol' English to my lovely students. I haven't seen anything. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Yamada sticks his tongue out and turns to the board behind him, picking up a marker—a clear dismissal.
Vlad King grumbles something distasteful under his breath and storms off without another word, but not before picking up the discarded desk and placing it where Izuku stole it.
Izuku waits for his quirk to fade away into the distance, and only then does he allow himself to breathe. Great, he's in the safe zone! He has a feeling Vlad just gave up and didn't want to deal with him any longer, to be honest, but whatever.
Hah! His plan worked.
"You can come out," Yamada prompts in English.
Izuku does so with a sigh of relief. He hops over the desk and bows low before his teacher, hands folded together. "Thank you so much, Yama. I'll leave now, I promise! Thank you for—" Izuku chokes when a hand snags his collar, pulling him back from where he was headed for the door.
"Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast, kiddo." Yamada clicks his tongue, voice taking on a sadistic tone. It sounds even scarier since he's still speaking English. "You interrupted my class time, so that means you can help with this next demonstration for everyone, yeah? Let's get started!"
He can't be serious...
Fifth busts out laughing. That's what you get for playing too damn much!
Izuku groans. "Yama," he whispers, back to the rest of the class, "you know I hate people."
Yamada whispers back to him. "Well, I hate having to be interrupted, but we can't always have what we want." He moves Izuku so he's standing in the front of the room, staring directly at the sea of curious students. His next words are a lot louder, and they're so bright and cheery that Izuku wants to melt into the floor. "Everyone, this is Midoriya Izuku from Class 1-A. Representative for all first years! Cool, right? You may have seen him on TV during the festival. He got second!"
He pats his shoulders, as if he isn't causing Izuku infinite mental damage just by doing this.
Izuku scans the room and everyone in it, craving violence now that he's been reminded that he didn't get first place.
"Midoriya, since this is an advanced English class, this is a combined group of students from both class 3-A and class 3-B. Say hello!"
Izuku doesn't say anything until Yamada gives him a little nudge, and only then does he raise a shaking hand in a meek wave. But then he remembers that his scars from Hosu are on full display, and he quickly puts his arm back down again.
He wonders who in this room would be able to kill him the fastest. The quirks here are buzzing with energy, and they're so fucking strong. They're all so powerful that he can feel his fingers twitching in response. Some of these quirks he recognizes, others he doesn't.
He wants them all.
"He's kind of skrunkly," someone says, which prompts everyone else to speak too.
"He's so small and cute! Oh my gosh!"
"What are you talking about? He looks like he eats food out of a trash can."
Izuku blanches, offended now. So what if he used to? It's not that big of a deal. How dramatic of them.
Before Yamada can continue on with the procedures, a girl with periwinkle hair bounces up to him, bending down a bit to look him in the face. "Hi, Midoriya! I'm Nejire!"
Izuku blinks at her, taken aback.
Hadou Nejire. 3-A. Blood type: B. Quirk: Wave Motion.
Izuku's eyes widen a little once her file comes into mind. She's ranked as being in the top 3 of this school, isn't she? She has a damn good quirk.
"That's your first name," Izuku says dumbly.
Hadou laughs. "Yeah! I don't mind if you call me that!"
Izuku wracks his brain, trying to remember what the polite response to this kind of reaction is, but then even more people get up to greet him. Oh, God. Is this standard for these classes? Aizawa would never let his students do this to a guest. Is this even—
A boy with beady eyes and blond hair comes up on the side of Izuku, making the boy shrink back and bump into Yamada, who steps away.
"Heya!" The new boy says, and, wow, he's pretty tall. He has nice hair, too. "You're a funny looking guy, aren't you!"
Tougata Mirio. 3-B. Blood type: O. Quirk: Permeation.
How cool would it be to see that power in action?
He wrings his hands as more people surround him. They're all mostly big, and he can't move to get away from them. Hadou and Tougata talk to each other as they reach over to touch Izuku.
Izuku is damn near about to bite them for crowding around so close, but then the blond pats his hair—once, twice, and then a third time before letting his hand sink further into Izuku's curls. He scratches gently at Izuku's scalp, and it should be weird, it should be invasive, but somehow it isn't.
He freezes up at the feeling but then melts into it, heart thumping inside his chest. Oh, that feels good, what the fuck.
Izuku shivers, bones turning to mush. He falls, and Tougata doesn't stop talking as he catches Izuku and easily supports his weight.
"Sensei, is this who's been wandering around campus this whole week?"
Izuku doesn't even hear Yamada's response; he's too busy focusing on the feeling of the other boy patting his head like one would the family dog.
But all too soon, the students are being ushered back to their seats, and Izuku has to shake himself back to normal.
"Alright, everybody! Partner up! We'll be working on the pluperfect tense again!" Yamada points at him. "Midoriya here will demonstrate the exercise with me."
And so the torment continues.
Eventually, school activity starts back up as usual.
After nearly a week of talking to nobody but the teachers and the occasional third year brave enough to approach him, it's a little uncomfortable walking (running, actually) into the hallway after doing his latest stunt and being confronted by a sea of other students.
He felt their quirks when they came in, sure, but he's been using that sense of his so often nowadays that he's no longer overwhelmed or bothered by the feeling of quirks or even people's emotions. He's been getting better at controlling himself.
So feeling them and seeing them are two very different things for Izuku. He didn't want to come to school today anyway, but he knew he had to. He wouldn't be allowed to stay at the apartment by himself (for good reason, if he's being honest).
Besides, Yamada said he'd take him to the mall this weekend, and while Izuku was at first dreading it, as he still isn't okay with the whole spending their hard-earned money thing, he's kind of excited. He's been stuck inside, either at school or at the apartment, for so long now that he's about ready to pull his hair out.
And so now the mall seems like a great idea. He doesn't want to ruin that opportunity by making Yamada disappointed in him. He's going to try and be on his best behavior... around Yamada.
Everyone else is fair game.
Izuku now waits at the top of the vents, searching the crowd with nothing but his senses. He has his back against the vent wall, and he can't see the students down below, but he can feel them.
His mind makes a little pinging noise whenever he finds who he's looking for, and he checks the names off mentally.
But then, right at the time Izuku predicted, the boy he's really looking for walks through the gates. He tracks the feeling of his quirk as he makes his way through the courtyard and into the building, and only then does Izuku move.
He opens his eyes and then the vent hatch, getting his newest invention ready. He props the large gun up on his shoulder and aims it, making sure to keep himself steady. He wouldn't want to hit the wrong student.
When Explosion passes right underneath Izuku, allowing him a glimpse of familiar blond hair, the release latch is yanked back.
And nothing happens. There's not even a kickback.
Izuku immediately feels like a dumbass for having his gun fail on him like that, as he spent three whole days perfecting it and now has to spend some more time fixing it.
He moves it around and looks into the wide barrel, wondering how the fuck he managed to mess this all up—which is probably the dumbest decision he's made this morning. Everyone knows that pointing any type of gun at your face, whether deadly or not, is a no-no.
The first time he did that around his father, All for One used one of his many quirks to pull the trigger while it was still pointed at Izuku.
Granted, it was only a dart gun that contained poison that doesn't actually affect Izuku due to his metabolism, so it's not like it posed a huge threat, but the point remains. Izuku is sure All for One would've done it even if it did have a real bullet in it.
So, really, Izuku should've learned.
True to his luck, a similar thing happens this time. There's a whump, followed by a click, which Izuku has come to know as the sound the gun makes when the spring is released.
Well.
He doesn't have enough time to move out of the way before the silver, shimmering net is being ejected out of the barrel. It spreads out and envelopes Izuku immediately. The magnets buzz on and snap together with their closest partners, enclosing Izuku in a tight ball. Because it was so close to him when it fired, the force of the blast causes Izuku to hit the wall hard and slide sideways, right toward the open vent hatch.
And because the net itself is lined with quirk suppressant probes (he stole the blueprints from Nezu) and has a near untearable transparent barrier, Izuku isn't able to grab onto anything to stop himself.
He drops like a rock from around thirty feet up, shrieking an incoherent mixture of oh, shit, oh, shit, I'm fucked!
He hears some of the other students scream too, but it's not like they can do anything. He's falling pretty fast, and even if they could catch him, it would be pretty awkward to get a good hold of him since the barrier is sleek. They'd have to grab the rope that's attached to the net itself and somehow be able to—
Izuku hits the ground hard. He manages to twist just in time so his good side takes the brunt of the impact, but it still sends his whole body into a shock. The breath is knocked out of him, and for a good ten seconds he's reduced to a still corpse on the floor, his lips parted but otherwise not moving as he tries to suck in some air.
Stars appear in the corners of his vision, and he swears some of them are dancing together. One of the pairs is definitely doing the bachata. He's sure of it.
"Is he okay?"
"What just happened?"
"Did he fall from the ceiling? And is that a rodent trap?"
"Someone call a teacher!"
Izuku curls into a fetal position, his muscles spasming again as he tries to force One for All to come to him despite knowing it's impossible to actually use it inside the bubble. Curse his past self for being so smart.
He shakes his head, and the world swims as he wheezes out a response. "Nuh. Nuh, 'm fine. Don do that. 'S all good."
The people don't seem convinced, and they shouldn't be, really. He did just fall from like three stories, which could've paralyzed an average child. How are they supposed to know that Izuku is built differently? It's not their fault.
But then a familiar rough voice speaks above the growing sound of concern and disbelief. "Oi! Get away from him!" Kacchan pushes his way through the throng, and Izuku wants to kick himself for forgetting how lovely his best friend looks.
Every time he sees him he just gets so flustered, as he never remembers how—
"What the hell is this, Shitku?" Kacchan presses on the net, only to pull back immediately as if the touch burned him. "Did ya make this yourself? It'd be cool if you weren't so stupid." He grabs for the gun and the rope, beginning to tighten the slack using the lever on the side of the weapon. "Huh, staying silent now, idiot?"
Kacchan scoffs at Izuku's lack of reply and just drags him through the hallway, towards a more secluded spot.
Izuku, who is still trying to drag in more breaths to speak again, can't do anything but let it happen. Some of the witnesses try to stop Kacchan and tell him to take Izuku to the nurse, but the blond takes one look at his friend's frantic head shakes and tells them to fuck right off.
How chivalrous.
"There's a closet in the hall to the right," Izuku wheezes the moment he can. "That'll be good."
Kacchan opens the door and quite literally throws Izuku inside upon hearing this. It's a bit of a tight spot, but at least this way they won't be stared at when they talk.
"You've gotta press the button on the bottom left side. It'll turn off the quirk suppressors, and then I can detach the magnets."
"What were you even trying to do with this?"
"Catch you and then reel you up into the vents."
Kacchan stares at him. Izuku stares back. "What?" Kacchan asks, baffled.
Izuku doesn't answer. He just blinks.
"You know, now that you said that shit, I'm not setting you free."
"Come on, I was only gonna test it out on you because I knew you'd be able to handle it!"
Kacchan's face splits into a leery grin. "Yeah, and I'd handle it better than you are."
"To be fair, I did fall from the ceiling, so—" Izuku cuts himself off with a yelp when the net suddenly splits apart and zips back into the barrel of the gun.
He stays on the floor for a moment, giddy. He knew it would at least retract correctly. It's reusable for sure! It'll be great for practical use. He wonders if it'll work on All Might. The man is pretty big, so even if Izuku manages to capture him entirely in the net, he could probably break the quirk suppressant probes by overwhelming them with his sheer strength. It would be interesting to see.
Kacchan yanks Izuku up by the shirt, pulling him so his face is mere inches away from his. Izuku's toes are barely touching the ground. "You look sick," Kacchan says, accusatory.
Izuku huffs. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm completely fine! And nice to see you, too, I guess. It's been, what, over a week since we last saw each other in person? You could at least act like you missed me or something. I'll only be accepting a Romeo and Juliet type performance, thanks."
"I've been seeing your dumbass all over the news lately," Kacchan hisses without skipping a beat. "So, trust me, I didn't miss you at all."
"You've always had such a way with words, babe."
Kacchan releases his grip, and Izuku's knees buckle. He would've fallen back to the floor had Kacchan not pushed him against the wall in the next second. "I read all the reports, you know." His words this time are much quieter. "I have a hard time believing our rat of a principal is going to turn a blind eye to everything that's happened. What are they going to do to you?"
Izuku glances away, the tips of his ears turning red. He doesn't want to repeat the words he overheard that day, so he doesn't. He settles on what the truth is right this moment. "Nothing."
"Really?" Kacchan pulls back. "I don't believe that."
Izuku rubs his sore arm then, and he doesn't miss the way Kacchan's eyes follow the action. "Well, they, uh—Aizawa, I mean, took Rabbit away. And I don't know if I'll get it back from him anytime soon. But, aside from that... They said they're going to take things one day at a time. If I step out of line again like that, I think that's when they'll turn me over or something."
Kacchan's red gaze is intense. "You really think they would do it? Turn you in?"
"Detective Tsukauchi would," Izuku says, focusing on a dark spot on Kacchan's nose. "If he thinks it will keep people safe, I know he will."
At this, Kacchan lets out a quick breath and turns around, running his hand through his hair. "Geez, Shitku. What even happened back there? You didn't tell me shit over text."
The lump returns in Izuku's throat. He blinks and sees gleaming white talons, a doll without a head, and glassy, familiar eyes. He shudders and looks at the floor. "I didn't think you'd appreciate it over the phone."
"Yeah, sure, whatever. But you'll tell me now?"
Izuku wordlessly points to the small, blinking red dot in the corner of the room. It's new; it wasn't there a few days ago. It's obvious why it was installed, though.
Kacchan sees the camera too and sets his jaw as he begins to pop the bones in his neck. "Guess you'll have to come to the house later."
Izuku winces. "Yeah, that's not happening. I'm, uh, kinda on house arrest right now."
"House arrest?" Kacchan's face quickly contorts into one of joy. "You mean you got grounded?"
"Don't say it like that! That's not what it—"
"You got fucking grounded!" The boy laughs, and it's sharp and grating. "Hah! Figured there was something else to this!"
"Kacchan!"
"This just made my week, nerd. I'm gonna tell the hag that you—"
Izuku throws himself at him, fingers grabbing for Kacchan's spiky blond hair. They grapple with each other for a bit, but Kacchan is ultimately stronger. He twists and throws Izuku right over his hip with surprising ease. When Izuku's back hits the ground, Kacchan is on him immediately. He hovers above him with his knees on either side of Izuku's legs, and he grabs both of Izuku's wrists when the boy attempts to shove him off.
Boost burns at Izuku's muscles, and he's about to break the grip his friend has on him when Kacchan points his free hand at his face, palm sparking in warning. Izuku's attempts to get him off of him cease, and he concedes with a roll of his eyes.
"You're even weaker than you already were," Kacchan says, but it's not mean. It's in a more observational tone. "What happened to you?"
Izuku's irritation flares up again. "I said I'm fine." He hikes his knees up to his chest, bringing his legs out from under Kacchan, and wraps his thighs around his friend's neck. Kacchan instinctively releases Izuku's wrists, and that's all it takes to give Izuku the upper hand. He puts one hand on the ground and the other on the side of Kacchan's head. In one quick move, Izuku flips them so he's now on top.
"See? I'm still better at—" Izuku's voice dies out. His mind comes to a halt when Extract warns him of the approaching person. He ignores Kacchan's annoyed reply and attempts to scramble off him, but it's too late.
The door is wrenched open, and the poor janitor that Izuku has talked to in passing a few times this week only stares at them, looking entirely unsurprised. Izuku doubts this is the first time this has happened to him.
For five long, agonizing seconds, neither party speaks. Izuku internally curses his luck, as this is like the third time someone has walked in on him doing something that's technically not disallowed but is definitely suspicious at first glance.
Kacchan sits up, pushing Izuku off. "This is—"
The door shuts, and the janitor is gone. The bell rings soon after, signaling that first period is going to start soon.
Izuku can only hope the janitor won't mention this to anyone. It wouldn't do any good.
They sit in silence for all of ten seconds, and Kacchan is the one who breaks it again, his voice matter-of-fact. "I'm going to kill you."
Izuku only sighs. "Yeah."
They're not late to first period, but it's a close thing. Izuku ignores Aizawa's stare when he and Kacchan walk in together, not wanting to deal with another fiasco today.
Time goes by faster than Izuku thought it would. He listens to his classmates talk about Hosu and all of the media coverage of it while sketching in his notebook. He tries not to let it bother him, the things they're saying, but it does.
At noon, he gets to listen to the entire lunchroom gossiping, too. Most of them talk about how horrible the destruction and the scope of the damage was, and how terrible it was that lives were lost. Someone mentions Native, and Izuku's lunch goes downhill from there.
The one thing that makes him the most bitter, though, is the fact that a few students across the room are having a debate on Stain. Some of them are obviously uneducated on who exactly the Hero Killer is and what he's done, as they're mentioning how the heroes should've given Stain a chance to speak his mind and to make a formal statement about his opinions and stances. They say that maybe it was the heroes' fault that Stain did what he did, and that things could've been solved if only they didn't immediately try to attack Stain.
Most of the other students shoot those thoughts down, but that's not the point. The point is that some of the students feel this. Some of them actually feel this way.
They actually think that Stain could have possibly been, in their words, an underground hero. As if the Hero Killer and someone like, say, Eraserhead, are even close to being the same. As if they stand for the same ideals.
Izuku has to press his hands over his ears and zone out deeply in order to not react the way he would've in any other situation. They're stupid, he thinks. Fucking stupid. But they just don't know. They weren't there. They don't know Stain. Don't know the things he did that made even Izuku, fresh out of the grasp of his father's stained hands, flinch away.
They don't know how many times Stain has looked a sobbing hero—a parent, a sibling, a friend, a savior for many—in the face and merely scoffed at their patheticness before letting the blade plunge down.
They don't know that sometimes Stain stayed and watched as his victims twitched and drowned in their own blood just to make sure they didn't have a chance at making it.
Not many ever got to see that soulless glint to Stain's white eyes like Izuku and his victims did.
The other students don't know. And in a way, Izuku is glad, but he's also angry. Some dark part of him wants them to have felt it, to have seen it, to have been there, if only to get them to shut the fuck up.
They call what happened to Iida Tensei mercy. A second chance. As if Stain allowed the hero to live out of the 'kindness' of his own heart.
It makes Izuku sick.
Why do they never talk about the Nomu? Why is it always Stain, Stain, Stain, as if the Nomu aren't just as important? Even more so? Why do they not see it!
When he glances up, he sees Iida across from him staring down at his food, brows furrowed and lips pursed. His eyes are watery.
Todoroki is nowhere to be seen. Izuku vaguely remembers feeling him walk out of the cafeteria and head for the bathroom, but he's not sure.
He might just do the same.
But then a soft touch brings him back to himself. He turns, and Uraraka has something pained on her face. "Are you okay, Deku?" It's the way she says it that tells Izuku she isn't meaning just him. She's talking about their other two as well.
Izuku sees Iida look at him, too, not saying a word, and he forces himself to give Uraraka a smile. "Yeah. Things will be a lot better than they were! I'm sure of it."
Uraraka softens, and the way her eyes light up makes Izuku think that if she can believe it, his words might have a chance at being true.
Midoriya is so obviously avoiding him.
When the kid's not trying to piss Shouta off, he takes to simply acting like he doesn't exist. The hero can't tell which is worse: having to deal with the twenty-seven pranks a day that he always ends up getting in trouble for with his boss, or having to deal with the complete and utter silence that stretches on in the instances where Midoriya and Shouta are alone together.
It's unsettling. It's awkward, and Shouta hates it. Hates it because it's never like that when Hizashi is around. It's never awkward or quiet or tense. That's just not possible with his husband.
Shouta isn't jealous, however. He could never be.
It's all just so frustrating. He knows, of course, that what Midoriya is doing is to be expected. With everything he's gone through, these types of reactions coming from an overwhelmed teenager isn't rare. In fact, it's nearly standard.
Does that make Midoriya's actions acceptable? No. But they're expected.
Shouta is having the most trouble figuring out how to respond and react to these events. It's easy to get angry, and it's easy to just dole out the punishments without any further thinking, but for this he can't do any of that. He has to be patient. He has to find that balance between hero, teacher, and sort-of guardian.
There's gotta be an overlap somewhere, he's sure.
What makes matters even more frustrating is that Hizashi was born for situations like this, it seems. He's good with Midoriya in a way that Shouta knows he himself will never be. He's kind and funny and loud and he somehow manages to hit all of the right buttons when it comes to him. He knows how to make Midoriya smile, he knows how to make him laugh—for real, not one of those fake chuckles the boy gives sometimes, and he knows how to get him out of one of his moods.
Something that Shouta hasn't been successful in doing since, well, ever.
Hizashi is the type of person that everyone would want as a partner, and he's also the perfect teacher. Shouta has only been reminded of this ever since Midoriya started staying over.
He is so, so glad that he's with this man. He's also glad that Hizashi is still here, right beside him, helping him with the struggles that Shouta has thrown his way. Without him, Shouta doesn't know how he would be keeping it together right now.
Teaching students is hard. Teaching teenagers is another thing.
But that's something you can learn to do through trial and error. Raising a kid—er, housing a vigilante, is different. It's much harder. You can't just fly by the seat of your pants and hope everything works out.
You have to be solid. You have to be that steady figure. And Shouta is not that figure. At least, he doesn't think so.
And yet, with how hard it is, Hizashi makes it seem so easy.
Admittedly, he's been relying on Hizashi to do all the emotional things thus far. He saw how the two of them clicked with each other, so Shouta never thought he should bother with growing that sort of bond with the kid. To him, it wasn't necessary nor wanted. He didn't think Midoriya would appreciate it, as he's never indicated that he wanted to have that kind of thing.
Shouta mistakenly thought that Hizashi's care alone would be enough, and now he's paying for it.
Or maybe, if he's being completely truthful, that's not exactly what it was. Maybe Shouta did think that Midoriya needed something more. Maybe he did think that the boy silently craved some kind of validation from him. Maybe the thought crossed his mind sometimes during those patrols together that Midoriya was actually missing something. Something vital. Something he didn't want but definitely should have. Something he should've had from the very beginning.
Midoriya avoided him at the start, back when they were still 'playing cops-n-robbers,' as the vigilante liked to say. He fought tooth and nail to get away from Shouta, and everything about him screamed the tale of a wounded animal desperately trying to heal itself.
But eventually, gradually, slowly, that changed. When Shouta opened up and showed that blatant, almost foolish trust first by presenting his back to him on multiple occasions and talking about a little bit of his life outside of work, Midoriya did the same.
He opened up too.
Those times seem like so long ago that Shouta has already forgotten it all, hasn't he? He's grown too... entitled, maybe. He forgot how much the both of them had to work to get to where they are. Er, were, now.
In order to repair the damage done, Shouta needs to start over. He needs to take that first step, just like he did back then.
He needs to open up. Explain himself. Something like that.
It sounds easy. God, it should be, shouldn't it? It sounds like the most simple thing in the world. And yet Shouta just... can't. His hands tremble whenever he thinks of sharing those dark thoughts of his, those thoughts that'll fully explain why he said what he did to Midoriya at the hospital.
Shouta knows he can't make excuses for himself, but he also knows that he's still right. Somewhat.
Rabbit told him one night that he never wore the mask solely to conceal his identity. He said to Shouta that he wanted to make sure the villains could never see his fear. He wanted to ensure that civilians would never have to doubt if he was capable of doing something.
But Shouta doesn't think that's all there is to it. Truthfully, Midoriya has never been terrified when faced with death. Not in Shouta's eyes.
Every single time he's come close to dying, every time he's only just barely skirted the edge during patrol—Shouta would look at his face. And he would never see fear.
Only something like disappointment. Annoyance. A bit of sadness. And shock, of course.
But never has he seen Midoriya terrified at the prospect of dying. He's only ever looked scared when it was someone else's life on the line.
And thinking about that makes Shouta feel like such a goddamn failure.
He doesn't know how to approach these topics with Midoriya. Every time he tries, the words always fail. They shrivel up before they can even leave his mouth.
It doesn't help that he's been busy with around twenty different missions right now. His mind is everywhere at once, and he can't sleep. He can't keep track of the things he would normally keep a detailed record of.
And he's just... he's been feeling weird. Off. Like it has something to do with the air. Like the Earth is spinning in a different direction, but only for him.
He gets bouts of nausea at random times during the day. He loses his balance. He zones out in the middle of lecture, hand still holding a marker and pressing it against the board.
He hasn't felt like this since he graduated and had to sleep out on the streets for weeks.
He's out of his league, here, he's sure. Jesus, he needs to ask someone for guidance if he doesn't want to fuck this up even worse. He doesn't like asking for help, but he figures this is different, as it's not just about him. It's hurting others. It's hurting Midoriya.
And so Shouta, with hands that still won't fucking stop trembling and eyes that won't quit burning even with his gel drops, grabs for his phone and searches for Inui's contact.
They never usually text each other, but that's mostly because Inui has trouble messaging anyone over the phone due to his large, furry hands. He prefers calls.
The last text Inui ever sent to Shouta was from quite a few years ago, back when Shouta was still adjusting to teacher life.
'I'm a psychologist for patients of all ages, not just children. That being said, while my office cannot ethically be open for staff due to the problem of us being coworkers, I can still lend an ear to a friend outside of work if needed.'
Shouta never answered him, and he feels bad for it now. Hopefully Inui doesn't hold a grudge for that.
Forcing himself not to hesitate or overthink, Shouta types out the text and sends it.
Almost immediately, the message is read; Shouta sees the receipt right under it.
His phone vibrates with Inui's caller ID lighting up the room, and Shouta takes a quick breath before sitting up on the couch.
This is the first step in order for Shouta to change things. He's going to try his very hardest to learn how to be better.
He swipes right on the phone icon, and when he brings the speaker up to his ear, he somehow feels lighter than he's ever been.