They say that love is the cruelest poison of them all. It seeps through the cracks in your bones and squeezes your heart until it stops beating, driving away all rational thought and voice of reason. They say it kills you slowly, like a parasite sucking at the back of your neck every night underneath your pillow: silent, slow, and deadly.
Midoriya Inko, however, disagrees.
Love can be cruel, sure. But it's not the cruelest. Love was never the cruelest thing to happen to her.
Hate was.
You may argue that love and hate aren't all that different from each other, but to Inko, there couldn't have been two more opposite things in her life.
Hate for her was her own naivety. Hate for her was her failures. Hate for her was that quirk.
She sits at a steel bench somewhere inside the city in the far parts of southern Japan, throwing oats onto the ground for the birds to eat.
At night, the park pigeons are her best distraction. Unraveling the pecking order can be all-consuming to Inko.
The red one is alpha, as he's hogging most of the food and bullying the others away with his large size. Yellow speckles seems to be next, since it's obvious he doesn't have a problem with continuously challenging the red one. And the poor little green-footed pigeon is clearly low on the list, as he's barely eating at all.
Inko throws more in his direction, using her shoe to ward off the other two dueling pigeons.
It's not a particularly nice night, as it's cold and dark and overall damp, but she prefers it like this. She enjoys the smell of the oncoming rain, and she likes to hear the disgruntled murmurs of the crowds of people in the distance on their way back home from work. It makes her feel whole again.
Something she hasn't been in what seems like ever.
Another pigeon joins the trio, this one all black with a gray neck, and she watches with minor curiosity to see what this will do to the unspoken hierarchy.
Red immediately goes for the bodyslam, but the little green pigeon is the one to stand up for the newcomer this time. He pecks the red pigeon in the throat one good time, and that seems to resolve the issue.
The order is maintained, but there's less bullying now.
Inko smiles and wishes all of life could work that way.
Watching the environment around her is something she had to learn to enjoy. When she was younger, she didn't care much for the little things. She wasn't into the bird-watching or people-observing thing. She found it weird, honestly. But now—upon her therapist's instruction—she finds that maybe it does help.
And maybe she does like it.
The truth is, if she's left alone for too long with nothing else living around her, she becomes... unsure again. She sees things. She hears them.
She doesn't like not knowing if those things are real or not. She dealt with that every day for years, and she doesn't want to go back.
At least the pigeons are real. She likes that they're brightly colored. Most pigeons are like that nowadays, as mutant and transformation powers seemed to affect them the most when quirks first started developing. They've evolved into something even more beautiful. Inko doesn't know how she didn't see it back then.
Late night joggers pass by and laugh at her kindly, and people with children walk and coo at the growing number of birds by Inko's feet.
She doesn't look at the parents. She never does.
When the moon rises higher into the sky and droplets of rain soak into her skin, Inko takes out her umbrella and walks the lengths of the city. She always takes the long way home.
As she makes towards her place, she can't help but remember the day things finally started to change for the better.
"You have a poison inside of you. I can sense it, ma'am. It's strong."
Inko grips the edges of her skirt tightly, knuckles going white. A poison, she thinks, mind numb. Something real. Something not fake.
"It's obvious to me that you have been experiencing the effects of a quirk for over five years now. I can feel it occupying the space where a quirk would normally be felt by me."
Like grease left over on an emptied pan.
"But I don't have a quirk," Inko says, confused and maybe a little scared. "So how is that possible?"
The woman takes off her glasses, breathes onto them, and wipes them down on her coat. "It's rare, but some quirks allow their users to impart long lasting effects on their victims if they use it on another person. It's entirely possible that someone may have used theirs on you, whether maliciously or not, and caused this to happen. Yes, even over the span of years."
Inko hears the words but doesn't truly process them immediately. She's busy remembering all of the creatures she had to grow accustomed to over the years. Some of them were even given names.
"From what you've described to me, it seems to have flare ups. You said it was worse a few years ago?"
"Yes," she answers, tongue feeling like sandpaper. "Before I moved away from my hometown."
She gets a nod in reply. "So perhaps it grew worse when you were around a certain someone, or even something. Having thoughts about those things may also amplify the symptoms."
Is that why it got weaker when Inko left?
The intake of breath before she speaks next feels like an important one. "Can you fix it?"
The woman nods quickly, as if wondering why she even asked. "Of course! It's an easy enough thing to handle for us here at QR&R, so don't worry about that. But I won't lie to you, it will be difficult to start living again once you've figured this out. The residue of this quirk... it has been a part of you for a while now. Losing it will put you in a fragile spot, mentally and physically, I reckon. But this is needed. I can tell just by looking at you."
Inko nods numbly, eyes already beginning to overflow with silent tears. So, all of that time with her son, all of those terror-filled nights and dark shadows... it was never real? None of it? He never hurt her? The monsters never actually attacked?
Was it really just all in her head? No, it can't be. How much of it could've been true? How much of it wasn't?
How much did she think was true?
Inko feels sick and yet surprisingly happier than she's ever been before. The idea that it wasn't her, it wasn't her just seeing things or being haunted or going crazy... it makes her hopeful.
And yet with that excitement comes the dawning horror. The tears come out faster, burning her cheeks and dripping down onto her hands.
She hurt him. Over and over again. And what she was seeing back then might not have even been real. She was hurting him while trying to protect him, but now it seems there was nothing she needed to protect him from anyway.
She was hurting him just to hurt.
The woman gently takes her hand in her own, looking into her eyes with a face filled with understanding and kindness that Inko doesn't think she deserves. "Quirks can be a curse just as much as they can be a blessing. There are some dark powers out there, and I fear you were the victim to one of them. I'm sorry you've lost things because of it, but I'm certain that now you can start over."
Lost things? Is that what happened to Inko? To her, it felt like something much worse. She didn't just lose something. She lost herself, and she lost her baby.
"You can live again," comes the next declaration, and it makes Inko's head spin.
Live. Inko can live. It's such a weird notion.
Unfamiliar. Dangerous. Even impossible.
Inko survived with her son. She never lived. And now that she doesn't have him, she doesn't know if she should even get that second chance.
Why should she when she took away her son's chance from the very start?
"Recovery is a slow process," the woman starts, squeezing her hand before pulling away, "but we can begin with identifying the real and not real from back then."
Inko will never regret loving her son. Her love for him, though broken, wasn't the worst poison inside of her, no.
Her insensible, volatile hatred for him in the end was.
That's the only thing she truly regrets.
"You're telling me..."
Izuku rolls his eyes at Yagi's disbelieving tone and turns away, crossing his arms. Here we go again.
"...that Chiyo thinks One for All is killing you."
Raising up a finger, Izuku wags it at Yagi. "Not kill! I'm not dying! What I said is that she thinks it's making me sick. Those are two very different things."
Yagi pauses what he's doing and puts his hands together in a sort of prayer. "Oh, God," he says quietly, closing his eyes. "How is that even possible? How is—why is that even—?"
"It's not possible, which is why I'm telling you it's not true. Chiyo is off her rockers."
"Hey. Watch how you speak of her, young man. I trust she knows what she's talking about better than you do."
"It's my body," Izuku argues, hopping off of the arm of the chair in the living room and walking towards him. He's getting frustrated now only because they've been over this already. All Might just doesn't seem to want to let it go. "I told her that my blood has been like that since—since forever. Even before One for All! It has nothing to do with—"
"One for All could have made things worse for you still," Yagi points out, "which, based on what I've been monitoring of you lately, doesn't seem unlikely."
"Monitoring? You've been monitoring me?"
Yagi turns to him, holding the sheets he's using for the blanket fort Izuku proposed they do in his bony hands. "You're not well, Midoriya. That's obvious."
"Yeah, I know! But that has—it's—One for All hasn't done anything to me that hasn't already been done, All Might! I know because it's me. I've had to live like this! I know what's hurting me and what isn't!"
"So if it isn't One for All, what is it?"
Izuku huffs at him. "Nothing. My quirk is just always a little unstable this time of year."
"My boy, that doesn't make any sense."
"Sir, the only reason I told you is because she said she'd tell you herself if I didn't. And I—I just didn't want her to, like, freak you out."
"You're telling me that your blood is undergoing a process that shouldn't be possible, Midoriya. It's a little hard to not be freaked out by that."
Izuku hugs himself tightly and screws up his face. "This is why I said we should make the blanket fort before I told you. It was supposed to make you not mad."
"I'm not mad, I'm just..." Yagi lets a soft breath pass between his teeth. "I'm upset."
"I feel like I should be the one upset here, not you."
"You hush up," All Might retorts, throwing a half-hearted glare at him. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me sooner about this. What were you thinking, keeping it from me?"
Izuku puffs up his cheeks and turns away. "Like I said, it's not true, so I didn't see the point. But I'm telling you now, anyway, so you still shouldn't be upset."
All Might sighs in frustration and fastens the next blanket with a clip, muttering to himself. "What would my master say if she were here? She'd smack you for being so foolish—and then me for not noticing it sooner."
He's right, Shimura says, almost smugly.
Izuku shivers at the thought. Remind me to stay away from you the next time I visit One for All.
"And Gran!" Yagi shudders visibly, face as white as the sheets in his hand. "I can only imagine what he'll do once we tell him—"
"What!" Izuku screeches. "We can't tell him about this! None of it!"
What if he makes the connection? He's already suspicious of me; I can feel it every time I'm around him! He's going to find me out if he hears all of this!
"Young Midoriya," Yagi says gravely, garnering his attention and ignoring his protest altogether. "If you have been like this for a long time, why hasn't it been fixed yet? Did you not receive treatment?"
Izuku almost laughs at the thought. "It's not something to fix, All Might. It's just how Boost works. For my body to be enhanced like it is, my DNA has to constantly... rewrite itself, if that makes sense."
"No, it doesn't make sense. That's not—"
"My father tried," Izuku admits, staring somewhere behind Yagi. "To see what could be done, I mean. But he... he had the same condition. It's normal for us. He's living a long life, too." An extremely fucking long one. "So it's... it's not like One for All is going to do anything bad to me. If anything, it's been helping. I'm fine. Really!"
"You told me Chiyo said there's no way this could be happening without some kind of harm coming to you. So what you're saying cannot be true."
"What does it matter? Even if it's hurting me, what's to be done? Father, he—he could never fix himself. And he couldn't fix me, either. So there's really nothing to be done."
Yagi lowers his head to catch his gaze. "I'm sure we have more resources now. We can take you to the best centers in the world to get you treated and—"
"My father had the best resource," Izuku says through gritted teeth, fists clenching. He remembers studded goggles and a white coat with a dark mustache to go with it. He thinks of tubes stuck under his skin and electrodes attached to every spare inch of his chest and stomach. "Yagi, it's fine. I'm fine. This is just a flare up. It happens sometimes! I'll get better soon. Really soon."
For a few moments, Yagi searches Izuku's face with sharp, calculating eyes. Izuku resolutely avoids the hard gaze, much preferring to count the number of quirks he can feel in the building at this very second. Now he regrets ever telling Yagi about what Recovery Girl said. He knew, obviously, that he wouldn't take it well, but Izuku had kind of hoped he would believe him a little more!
Of course he doesn't believe you, En says. You're lying straight to his face. He isn't blind.
Izuku's frustration boils over. Did I ask for your input?
The calm reply comes immediately. No. But you're getting it anyway. Cope, Ninth.
"My boy, I—"
"Can we finish the fort, please? It looks sloppy."
Yagi shakes his head and drops the sheet he's holding. "No, we cannot. As a matter of fact, sit down." He points to the end of the large L-shaped couch, tone brooking no room for argument.
Izuku obeys, but not without a loud, annoyed huff first.
Yagi walks over and pulls a loveseat with him so he can sit in front of Izuku. He's a few feet away from Izuku now, but it's still too close. He doesn't like it.
"Is this an intervention or something?" Izuku grumbles, glaring to the side at the stacks of blankets they still haven't used yet.
"It should be," Yagi retorts. His bones creak when he shifts, but Izuku has the good sense not to make a joke about it now. "We're not doing anything until we talk about this. That's what you said you came here for, right? So, let's talk. As... openly and truthfully as possible."
"You can't use my own words against me. That's unfair."
"What's unfair is you continuously dodging my questions and deflecting when I ask you something. This is a serious issue, and I don't appreciate you making a joke out of it. You could be dying. I know you may not care, but we—"
"I already said One for All is not—"
"You could be wrong. I know you hate having to hear that, my boy, but it's the truth." He leans forward and pushes on Izuku's forehead with a finger until he's looking at him again. "You need to get that through that thick skull of yours. And quickly."
Izuku ducks away from his hand. "This is literally a time where I am right, though. I'm not lying!"
"I didn't say you were lying, what I—"
"That doesn't matter," Izuku says hotly, feeling that irritation from before come back with a swift vengeance, clouding his senses. "I'm not stupid."
"Now, I didn't say that either. You need to—"
"You didn't have to say it," Izuku counters, glaring accusingly. "You know, you're acting just like Aizawa did after my apartment blew up, Yagi."
Immediately, his mentor's eyebrows fly to his hairline. "Excuse me?" He asks, tone shifting into something dangerous. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
There's a stir inside of One for All. Izuku, Shimura chides, matching her successor's voice.
Listening to the warning for once, Izuku bites his tongue hard. He hates having conversations like this, and while he knows he technically asked for it, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. The walls are closing in on him. He doesn't like this at all! Yagi needs to stop talking. Right now, preferably.
"That wasn't rhetorical," All Might tells him, folding his arms and straightening his back. "Answer me."
Heat soaks into Izuku's skin, and he rubs his arms to get rid of the burning sensation. "Nothing. It didn't mean anything."
"Right," Yagi says flatly. "Maybe we should be having this conversation with your other teachers here then if—"
"No!" Izuku shouts, nearly shooting up from his spot on the couch. "No, no! We don't need to do that!"
"You said this wasn't a huge deal, yes? So it shouldn't matter if Aizawa or Yamada knows."
Bastard!
Izuku shakes his head rapidly. "It's not a big deal! But they—they're gonna be even more dramatic about this! Then I'll—I'll probably never be able to go out as—" His jaw clicks shut at the realization of what he was about to say. His heart drops, and the walls are even closer now.
Yagi doesn't seem the least bit surprised though. His blue eyes are as keen as ever. "As what?"
Izuku doesn't say one word, but he doesn't have to.
All Might takes in Izuku's appearance—his clenched fists resting on his thighs, his thin lips and shadowed expression—and swipes a hand down his face. "Young Midoriya. The fact that you think telling your teachers about this medical issue will make them bench you from partaking in those life-threatening activities is already a telling sign."
You don't get it, Izuku wants to say, a decade of practiced lies hiding beneath his tongue and even more empty promises stapled to the roof of his mouth. It's not like that. You just don't see it.
"I'm already benched," Izuku says sullenly, drilling holes into the fabric of his pants with his eyes.
"Good. You severely need this break."
Izuku flinches. Yagi might not see it as an insult, but to Izuku it very much was. Saying he needs a break is insinuating that Izuku can't handle his own shit. It implies that he's too weak to do what he's been training to do since he was seven years old.
"I'm just sick right now because I pushed myself a lot during Hosu," he admits softly after a while. "I didn't realize it then, but I did. That's it, though. I'll heal, just like always! It just... it takes a while sometimes."
I need to give my body more time to deal with all those quirks.
Yagi taps his clenched fists, and it might just be Izuku, but his mentor suddenly looks more unsure than he ever has before. His following words are awkward, though the genuineness behind them makes up for it. "I'm not calling you weak, or defenseless, or incapable. Nothing like that, kid. But as I've told you time and time again, it's important to take care of you. The world's not going to crumble in the few days you're absent from your vigilantism or—or whatever else it is you teenagers do these days. You shouldn't have to be shouldering all of this by yourself. You can let others carry the weight."
That's exactly what Yamada told him, isn't it? If both of them are saying it, it has to be true, doesn't it? It's only logical.
"I only wish you would've confided in me about this sooner," Yagi says, "but I understand why you waited. In the future, I need you to trust that I can help you with these things. I don't claim to be perfect, or to automatically know what needs to be done in every situation that arises, but what I do know is that it's always better to take things on as a team."
"You don't work with a team, though," Izuku points out.
"My agency of a couple hundred says otherwise." He punches Izuku gently in the arm. "As do you."
We're a team?
Izuku's brows furrow as he thinks about it. Somehow he's not upset at the notion. He's... happy. In a weird kind of way, of course.
"You know I can't just let this go, right?" Despite the gentle way he asks it, he doesn't sound apologetic. "I'm going to talk to Chiyo more about this, and hopefully we can find some options out there to get a sense of what this all means."
"It doesn't mean anything like what—"
"Nothing you say is going to deter me, my boy. Your health is my top priority, even if it's not your own priority. Do you understand?"
Izuku hates that Yagi always asks that. Scratch that—they all say that. Yamada, Aizawa, and Yagi all ask if he understands. They don't ask if he agrees or accepts it, of course. They know he would object. But by asking if he understands what they're saying, they're not giving Izuku the option to opt out of it.
So Izuku nods even though he's unhappy about it. He'd be lying if he says some part of himself doesn't light up at the way Yagi smiles brightly at him because of it.
Yagi slaps his palms on his knees, as if ending the conversation there. "Alright! Back to working on the structural integrity of this fort."
Izuku doesn't get up from the couch immediately. He watches Yagi stand and pick up the discarded blankets and clips, and it's only when the man turns to him with an expectant eyebrow that he speaks.
"You're not going to tell them about it, right?" He swallows back the shame on his tongue when he asks.
"About what?"
"One for all. And what Chiyo said."
For a moment, All Might is completely unreadable for Izuku. He can't sense any conflicting emotions, nor see any change in his expression. He's probably trying not to show anything, Izuku realizes.
"No," Yagi says after a minute, clipping a thick sheet onto the counter and pulling it to the dining table. "One for All is your quirk now as well as it is mine. I won't tell them anything without you knowing, at least as long as it's not detrimental. Besides, I fear they're both going to kick my ass if they find out I gave you such a dangerous quirk and didn't tell them."
Izuku cracks a smile, figuring that that's most definitely going to be the case.
"But we will eventually have to tell them in the future, so just... work with me for now. And we'll be alright until then. How does that sound?"
"I can do future," Izuku says, walking up to him to help.
"As can I." Suddenly, All Might inflates into his bigger form with a bloody cough, a wide grin on his face. "But I didn't forget what you said about Aizawa, young man! I'll be telling him, rest assured!"
Izuku is never one to let a threat slide, even if it's a childish one, so—naturally—he fires up One for All, spins on his heel, and aims a powerful kick at the number one hero.
Snitches should be eradicated.
"I remember blanket forts being much smaller back in my day."
Izuku turns his head towards Yagi, who is all the way on the other end of the floor where the tunnel to the fort begins. "That's because you guys lacked creativity and drive. You all missed out on true fun."
"I didn't even know I had this many sheets and blankets," Yagi grunts, making his way over slowly to where Izuku is.
Izuku figures it's not a good time to tell him that he actually didn't have this much; he took it upon himself to use Pull to snatch some clean sheets from the bottom of the bedding chute.
And can you believe that? The billionaires in this skyscraper don't even have to do their own laundry! They just put their dirty laundry or bedding down the chute and in an hour or so the clean clothing will shoot back up in a different tube.
Izuku doesn't consider what he did stealing, though. The people living in this place are rich enough to not realize a few sheets are missing, surely.
While the fort they made is extremely large in the sense that it spans nearly the entire length of the floor, it's not very tall. It's only around four and a half feet in height in the tallest spots, which means the both of them have to either crawl or waddle to get around.
They left a big open overhang in the fort so that they can watch some television on the large hologram in the living room, and there's enough airflow to ensure it's not hot at all.
Overall, it's an incredible, strategic build. Izuku's experience with having to reinforce his old building's walls and floors so he wouldn't die in the middle of the night due to a collapse has really helped him with structural integrity and design.
Izuku chews on leftover popcorn and yawns with his mouth full, nearly choking on a kernel. It's getting pretty late, and dark clouds are hanging low in the sky now, blocking their view of the city from the window. It takes strength to open his eyes again every time he blinks, and his limbs become even heavier to move. He leans his head back against the multitude of pillows beneath him and then curls up against the blankets he took from the other residents of the building.
To his surprise, Yagi hasn't left him to go to his bedroom yet. Rather, he's made his own makeshift bed of sheets and comforters a little ways away. At least his back won't suffer because of this, Izuku thinks.
Yagi chose a spot closer to the wall, and Izuku finds out why when he sees what the man brought into the fort: A night light is plugged into the wall, and immediately the blankets above them are lit up with stars and swirling galaxies.
Izuku can't help the gasp this tears from him. He leans back even more, eyes blowing wide as he takes it all in. The colors are neon and cloud-like, and the stars are twinkling like actual burning balls of gas. He didn't expect the night light to be so... realistic! It's like the one Yamada brought out that night, except this one is much better!
It's as if he could reach up and touch the stars and feel the heat from them on his fingertips. He almost wishes it were possible.
"Woah," Izuku breathes, following the rippling universes as they move alongside each other. "I didn't know you liked night lights, All Might."
"I like to have it with me on the rare nights I can actually sleep in. I find that I don't like not having it on."
At this, Izuku turns on his side to stare at him, cheek squished against his pillow. "You're afraid of the dark?" He whispers, and it's childish, the way he asks it, as if he can't believe it. As if he wouldn't have thought it even possible.
All Might, the Symbol of Peace, the literal pillar of Justice—scared of the dark? No, no. Normal people can be afraid. But Yagi?
When Izuku was little, he used to think the word scared was simply not in All Might's vocabulary. He still kind of does.
"Not afraid," Yagi responds, but he doesn't say it defensively. His words are soft, as if he wouldn't be ashamed of the idea if it were true. As if he wouldn't be afraid to admit it aloud if so. Something about that makes Izuku feel better about himself, though he'll never admit it aloud. "I just don't like being alone with myself sometimes. The stars help, I think. They ground me. They remind me that we're all under the same sky, no matter where we are or what stage of life we're at. Our predecessors have grown and lived under the same constellations as us, and our own successors will do just the same."
All Might sighs and visibly relaxes as he lets himself sink into the blankets. The vibrant stars reflect in his shadowed eyes.
Izuku wonders briefly if that's how bright his eyes used to shine before everything that happened to him.
"We all face our own troubles," Yagi continues. "But the sky reminds us we're never truly alone."
Izuku frowns to himself. His teacher sounds practiced. Like he's reciting it from somewhere. The boy is willing to bet this was probably Shimura's doing sometime long ago.
Thinking of a situation where maybe Yagi was in his same position once, Izuku rolls over to face the stars again. "I like that," he says. "Thanks."
"Of course," comes Yagi's warm reply.
Huh. Maybe Izuku will ask Yamada if he can have one of these to put in his room.
Suits aren't really Izuku's thing.
They're tight, heavy, and overall not really a good outfit to fight crime in. Plus, they're extremely expensive. Horrifically expensive. The kind of expensive that should put suit-makers in prison for fifteen years.
That kind of expensive.
Izuku stares at the price tag on the suit. He blinks once, twice, and then rubs his eyes.
"Yagi," he whispers loudly, calling the man over. "There has to be a mistake. Look at the price tag."
The number one hero trudges over to him and frowns. "Oh, this one looks nice. It would look great on you."
"Yagi. The price."
All Might smiles widely. "Wow! It's on clearance. If you want that one to try on, go right ahead and ask to have someone fit it for you. You can keep looking at the others, though. You don't have to get the cheapest one, y'know."
Sometimes it's hard for Izuku to remember that they're both in two very different tax brackets. Now is not one of those times.
"Daddy, look!" A little girl bounces around excitedly upon seeing the two of them. "It's All Might!"
Yagi hunches over immediately. "Shit," he hisses.
Izuku snorts and walks away from him. "This is why you shouldn't go around in your big form."
"I need a new suit, too, so I have to show them my measurements—ah, hello, there!" All Might whips around with a wide smile to greet the little girl, who ran up to him with a book and pen in hand.
Her father rushes after her, looking apologetic. "Hey, what did I tell you about interrupting people when they're—"
Izuku tunes out the rest, only keeping an ear out for any danger. He browses the suits on display for people his size and finds that he hates everything he sees.
The fabric is either too scratchy and uncomfortable to the touch, or it's just ugly. Honestly, even Izuku has standards! He may not care about how he looks, but if he's going to some fancy restaurant with All Might and Endeavor, he needs to look classy at least. On the off chance that a reporter finds them (Izuku is praying they won't), he doesn't want to embarrass his teacher by looking—how did that one third year student say it?— scrunkly.
He sees a white one with golden embroidery and then another with red accents. He likes the red, but not the white. Are you supposed to wear white suits to restaurants? Or is that only for weddings?
Does he stick with the unoriginal black suit? Does he wear an office tie or a bow tie?
Izuku chews on his lip and tries to remember the suits his father used to wear. He always wore the same tie, but his suits differed occasionally. He never wore white, though.
That's probably because the blood would show up more clearly, but Izuku doesn't want to think that far.
"Okay," he mutters. "No white. Black is a maybe. What about... velvet green? No, it'll be too hot." He circles around the store to the suit he was first looking at. It's still the cheapest in the entire building, so that's already a plus in his book.
He runs his finger along it and likes the texture. It's not unbearable. It's a simple black suit with dark red accents. Actually, it almost reminds Izuku of his lightning whenever he uses One for All.
The red runs from the blazer all the way down to the pant legs, creating jagged patterns that accentuate how it will look fitted on Izuku. When Izuku moves around it, he notices that roses pop up on the fabric. When the light hits it right, it looks as if the vines around the roses are moving.
Izuku wonders how the manufacturer did it. Maybe he could do something similar with his Rabbit costume!
"Well," All Might says from behind. He sounds out of breath. Izuku reckons the girl asked him a shit ton of questions. "Did you find anything else?"
"No." He touches the fabric again. "Are you sure we can't just rent a suit? I don't need one to just have."
"Nonsense! Everyone needs a nice suit for special occasions. Besides, you'll need to get used to wearing one. As a hero, you'll be doing lots of conferences."
"Aizawa never does any."
"Only because reporters are usually scared of him."
Izuku figures that's fair. He's about to ask Yagi what he thinks about the roses, but when he turns, the man is beckoning a worker over and asking him to help fit it to Izuku.
This is going to be a long day.
Izuku reads the latest text Dragon Lady sent him and beams, typing out his reply with quick fingers. Thanks, again. Truly.
She answers immediately. Do I want to ask why you wanted me to do this on such late notice?
It's a bird trap.
I figured that much. But what makes you think the weapons you made me spread around are going to damage Hawks even a little bit?
They won't. But they're not supposed to.
She sends a sarcastic thinking emoji next. Somehow that doesn't make sense. Also, why did you choose this warehouse?
Because that's where he brought me before. When I eventually get Hawks' attention while I'm on patrol in the next week or so, that's where I'll lead him.
A link to an online funeral planning service is the only thing he receives in response, not that he expected anything else from her.
Early this morning, before All Might even woke up, Izuku asked her to do him a favor. And that favor was to bring some of Izuku's old, specialty weapons from the safe houses he used to share with her to the abandoned warehouse Hawks dropped him in that night.
He told her exactly where to place the weapons and traps, how to manipulate the environment to be as anti-Hawks as possible, and also how to hide the weapons so curious civilians won't get their hands on them.
Yeah. Izuku did a lot of research on the schematics of that old building.
Izuku is extremely grateful she decided to help out. He knows she's busy right now with everything that's recently been happening, so he's grateful she took precious time out of her day to help.
He doesn't plan to do anything rash yet. He has to wait until he has a good opportunity to somehow get Hawks' attention and lead him to the trap. Hawks has unpredictable schedules, though, and so does Izuku now, so that will prove to be hard to do. He may not have the chance to do anything for a few weeks.
"Nervous?" Yagi asks. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel of his car and adjusts the rear view mirror.
When Izuku saw that Yagi owned a million dollar car, he nearly shit himself. He's only ever seen the old American car Yagi usually drives to UA and back. Izuku didn't know he had multiple cars, much less this beast.
It looks like the fucking Batmobile!
"Not really," Izuku says, staring out the window and putting his phone in his suit jacket.
"You're not? You're better than me, then."
Izuku glances at him. "You're the number one hero. You could take Endeavor easily in a fight, so why are you nervous?"
All Might hums lowly. "My boy, strength isn't everything."
"Okay," Izuku concedes. "But you're still smarter than him."
This gets a fond roll of the eye from him. "I appreciate your confidence, but you shouldn't underestimate Endeavor. He is where he is because he worked for it. That counts for something."
"You should challenge each other in a sword fight. No quirks."
Yagi laughs. "He'd kill me for sure."
"I wouldn't let him. But even if he could, I'd avenge you. Just ask and I'll kill him for you. Well, try to. I'm good with swords."
"You shouldn't say things like that, Young Midoriya."
"Why? I mean it."
Yagi only sighs and shakes his head. "We're supposed to be cordial. It's a friendly dinner, not a death match. Please don't be so liberal with handing out such challenges. Villains will see that as an invitation to take you on. You'll be swarmed before you know it."
"Maybe I want that," Izuku jokes.
"If I weren't currently driving I'd smack you for that."
"You can't touch me. I'm wearing a nice suit. It's illegal to hit someone wearing an expensive suit."
"My boy, didn't you used to steal from people wearing expensive suits?"
Izuku huffs. "That was literally so long ago. I haven't done that in, like, weeks."
"Uh-huh."
When they pull into the restaurant, there's barely anyone in the line. Izuku figures that only the richest of the rich go here. That's the only reason it could be so barren.
They stop at the very front of the restaurant in the middle of the road, but before Izuku can get out, a security guard is opening the car door for him and welcoming him. Izuku looks back at Yagi, who is already out of the car and handing the keys to a boy with a big hat. What the fuck.
"All Might," the security guard greets. "It's a pleasure to see you here. You're the first of your party to arrive, but you'll find that your seats are already ready for you."
"Great!" Yagi clasps his hands together and walks around the car to lead Izuku in. In a lower voice so only Izuku can hear, he adds, "I bet Endeavor is going to skip. He didn't look too happy at our meeting a couple of hours ago."
Izuku was left at Yagi's apartment for a little bit of time to explore while the man attended his meeting. All Izuku did to pass the time was stand on the balcony, make his way to the roof while blindfolded, and use Yagi's gym. All on a repeated cycle!
He still wishes he could've been able to spy on the top-secret meeting, but he guesses he probably would have been murdered if he were caught, so maybe it was a good thing he didn't go.
Izuku keeps close to All Might as they walk inside and make for their reserved seating. The people in this restaurant just scream wealthy, and Izuku doesn't know why, but he's immediately intimidated. Their quirks don't feel like anything special, but it's just their aura that's making him shiver.
They feel like backstabbing cretins, and maybe he's generalizing them, but still. He should remain on guard here.
It turns out that they have their own little room to themselves with a wine wall, pool table, and soda machine. In one corner is also a salad and fruit bar.
Izuku tips his head. "I didn't think these kinds of places had pool and soda."
Yagi waves off the hostess and allows him to shut the crystal double doors to their private room. "I'll tell you a secret, Young Midoriya. The more wealthy the person is, the less they care about their image. Billionaires don't care about 'acting' rich, I can assure you. The uber rich aren't the ones you can pick out from a crowd. They choose to blend in nicely."
"So you're telling me I could've gone for poorer looking civilians while stealing and hit the jackpot with a trillionaire?"
All Might snorts. "That probably wouldn't have been the best thing to do, so no."
"I've gotta test the theory out."
It's a big table, if Izuku is being honest.
It's a normal rectangular table, with enough room for two chairs at each of the head spots and three on both of the longer sides. There's silverware and plates already set out, along with wine glasses.
"Why are there ten seats if there's only going to be three of us?"
"I figure the Commission wanted to make sure there was enough space between Endeavor and I," Yagi responds with a nervous laugh.
Izuku tips his head. "So they all know you both hate each other?"
"I don't hate Endeavor, my boy."
"So they know Endeavor hates you?"
"Well, he doesn't exactly make it a secret. Why don't we sit down?"
Izuku shakes his head and walks over to the pool table. "If Endeavor isn't here, why should we? We could start a game!" He throws a glance over his shoulder at All Might, who is pulling out a chair at one of the head spots and already sitting down. In the light of the room, Izuku can just barely see the white steam coming off of him. "Nevermind."
It's obvious All Might is trying to not do anything too strenuous. He's been in his big form for around thirty minutes already today, and he has to sit through this dinner too.
Izuku picks up the pool stick and runs his finger along it. "Are you sure this is a good idea? How much longer do you have?"
All Might fixes his bowtie in the reflection of the wine glass. "You know that when I'm fighting, I can usually only do thirty minutes at a time. But I've been trying to see how much farther I can go when not straining. I can hold my form like this for a few hours."
"That's good! But, like, still." He gives the man a solemn salute. "If you feel like you need to leave, just nudge me or something, sensei. I'll throw up so we can go. I can do it on command."
"That's... alarming."
"Aizawa said it's a good skill."
Yagi seems to consider it now that he's heard his coworker's opinion on it. "I see. Then I'll keep that in mind."
Leaving his mentor to his own thoughts, Izuku tries to remember what he knows about playing pool. He was too poor to ever go to places that had it with his mother, but he was too rich to see it while with his father. All for One called it a poor man's game, so he never allowed Izuku to play.
Izuku takes the triangle barrier off of the balls and sets himself up to start. When he stretches out his arms, he wishes again that he wasn't wearing this stupid suit. While he does think this one is kinda pretty, it's still tight. He should probably take off his jacket and—
"My boy, wait! This isn't regular pool—!"
It's a second too late, as Izuku has already hit the first ball with a jab of the stick and sent it flying. Instead of hitting the bunch of other balls, it instead goes over them and launches off of the table—right toward the glass doors.
All Might is out of his seat in a flash, trying to catch it, and Izuku has his palm raised instinctively with Pull on his fingertips, but the ball moves impossibly faster than both of them.
In less than half a second, it's crashing right through one of the doors and sending glass shattering everywhere.
Izuku freezes, stomach dropping to his ass.
Oh. My. God.
For a moment, neither of them say anything, but then All Might turns, very slowly, to stare at Izuku, who shrinks in on himself.
"I swear," Izuku begins, voice cracking already, "that I didn't even use my quirks."
All Might just covers his own eyes with his palm.