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brick-boat-blog · 6 years ago

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There’s Only So Much Time Ch.2

Summary: It’s not knowing too much that’s the problem.

It’s what you do about it.

Word Count: 31.1k

FF.net: Here

AO3: Here

Ch.1: Here

A/N: Me: You know, we should really make that second chapter already it's been awhile. Also Me: Okay but what if we made it twice as long as the first. Also Me: And sat on it for a year and a half. Me:

Anyway, I'm done. Take it. TAKE IT, I SAY.

Jirou stared wide-eyed.

Gran Torino glared back.

Silence hung in the air between them.

Seconds ticked by.

Jirou grimaced.

Her breath got caught in her throat.

Well.

This was it.

She was here.

She found who she was looking for.

And now they were alone.

In a building.

And the only way out was blocked.

There really was no turning back now, was there.

She looked to the side. Then behind her. Partly because she wanted to get a better look at her surroundings. Mostly because she'd probably crack if she tried to keep eye contact any longer.

The room looked more like an apartment than any kind of hero office. There wasn't a reception desk or anything that would normally be used to greet clients. The closest thing to it were a pair of blue couches with a coffee table in between them to her right – maybe the table for two behind it as well. To the right of them was a small kitchenette with a fireplace next to it. And all the way in the back stood a shelf stuffed with books, with various papers and newspaper clippings spanning from a single corkboard next to it.

It wasn't a fancy establishment (actually, to say it was run-down would really be an understatement), but it also wasn't a place she'd expect a pro hero to work – or even live in. If anything, it seemed like the kind of place she'd expect to find a college student tight on cash. Or even a small fry villain who wanted their own secret hideout. Not a professional hero.

Though décor aside, there was a worrying amount of cracks and dents in, well, everything. The floor, walls, and even the ceiling had what looked to be impact damage. Was there some kind of fight in here recently? Gran Torino didn't look like he had any injuries. Maybe he just got the building that way. But whatever it was, Jirou guessed they weren't too bad, since he'd never bothered to patch them up.

Speaking of which – Gran Torino tapped his foot impatiently.

“Go on.”

Ergh.

She fiddled with one of her lobes, letting it stretch down to her waist. She rubbed her neck with the other hand. She could feel her face stretch into a nervous grin.

“Man, where do I even start?”

There were the conversations she wasn't supposed to listen in on. There were the meetings everyone knew about, but no one knew what they were about. There were things like how Midoriya's body wasn't acclimated to his quirk and couldn't draw out its full potential. There were other like how All Might was still in on an investigation despite being retired.

What was important?

What wasn't important?

How was she supposed to know?

Were there things even he didn't know?

There was a lot of information to go over.

There were a lot of questions to ask.

But what was it he really wanted to know?

...

Gran Torino sighed.

He began to close the gap between them.

Jirou flinched.

Her hands were in front of her before she realized it.

But instead of attacking, interrogating, or even yelling at her, Gran Torino gestured to the couches. His voice softened, but remained stern.

“Go sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”

He made his way to the microwave. She followed orders and took a seat on the couch facing the door, setting her bag down by her feet. An open manila folder sat open on the coffee table between them, papers stacked neatly on top of one another in two piles inside it. She peered down.

The paper on top had a picture of a guy not too much older than her with white hair. He was wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. A detached hand covered his face, and more hands were latched onto various parts of his body. The picture itself was a little blurry – like it was taken in the field; not a mugshot or anything. The name next to the picture identified the man as 'Tomura Shigaraki'.

...

Huh.

She'd never actually seen him before, but that wasn't what she expected based on everyone's descriptions. The hand was an obvious thing Tsuyu and the rest all recounted easily, but Jirou had expected him to look more, well, villain-like. Not that he didn't look weird at all (see: hands). It's just that more often than not villains were generally, well, big and buff and super scary-looking. This guy looked like he'd have trouble just being a mook.

That aside, the fact that there were so many pages in the stacks themselves said there was a fair amount of information on the case. Too bad she couldn't just pick of the folder and leaf through it. Though one thing she did notice on that top page was another name under the first-

A plate of taiyaki was unceremoniously dropped on top of the very paper she was just looking at.

She flinched.

Gran Torino sat a glass of water next to the folder, then took a seat across from her with a cup of his own. He motioned to the plate.

“Take one.”

So she did.

One bite. Then another. Not bad at all, but it did make her realize how hungry she really was. She hadn't had microwave taiyaki since she was a kid. And this was the last place she expected to have it again. It took more than a bit of self-restraint to stop herself from wolfing it down all in one go and chugging the water with it.

Gran Torino didn't say anything as she ate, and waited until she finished to ask:

“Feel better?”

She nodded.

“Yeah.”

Gran Torino folded his arms. His voice was calm and even with underlying focus. He hadn't let his guard down entirely, but at least it looked like he didn't think she was some kind of villain.

“Alright, start from the beginning.”

So she did.

She told him how she overheard some of the conversations between All Might and Recovery Girl earlier on in the year. How she thought that it was just a disease All Might had. How the mentions of old injuries made that option seem less and less likely.

She told him how she told one of her friends that she thought All Might was sick. How the class came together and gave him a card. How she was called into the principal's office and had a talk with him because of it. How he didn't tell her anything else. How certain areas of the school were now soundproofed.

She told him how Recovery Girl called Midoriya All Might's successor. How Midoriya's childhood friend had called him quirkless at the beginning of the school year. How she came to the conclusion that Midoriya got All Might's quirk, but didn't have any evidence to back it up until much later (and even then, it was nothing physical).

And she told him that now there wasn't any explanation she could think of but that. And that she knew there was way more to this than even what she overheard. And that she wanted to know more – because this was huge, and she had a feeling things weren't quite over yet when it came to the Villain Alliance.

Gran Torino stayed quiet through the whole thing, but kept his eyes fixed on her. He gave the occasional nod and kept up a poker face. But things like the heartbeat, breathing, and small gulps were enough to show he hadn't become a statue (even if he didn't like what he was hearing). At least her explanation didn't activate any fight-or-flight instincts.

And when she finished, she stopped talking. Silence hung in the air for a few moments. Until Gran Torino cut through it with another question.

“And how exactly did that bring you here?”

There was an perplexed edge to his voice. Jirou couldn't blame him. She'd be weirded out too if some stranger showed up on her doorstep talking about things no one besides a select few should even be aware of.

“Your name was mentioned once when All Might-sensei and Detective Tsukauchi were talking. I also heard your conversation with Midoriya about the internships.”

He frowned.

“Eavesdropping's real rude, kid.”

“I know. I just-” She didn't mention the promise, and she wasn't going to try and justify what she was doing. It probably wouldn't make any difference in however he reacted. “I did research of my own too.”

“That doesn't explain how you found my address. I don't have a website or a public number. It keeps the riffraff away.” Yeah. Things would've been way easier if he did. And she wouldn't have had to waste countless hours on google and other search engines instead of doing something more productive with her time.

“There was this little hero forum I found – I can give you the link if you want.” Though she'd have to check her bookmarks for the name again; it wasn't Lurkers or even one of its offshoots. “But all it had was a map someone drew in Paint. I didn't expect to actually find you here.”

It was almost surreal how things managed to turn out this way. Here she was sitting on a stranger's couch an hour away from anyone she actually knew chatting about things with more weight than anything a high schooler should be in on. Said stranger being one of the few people in the whole world in the know about the greatest secret of Japan's (former) #1 hero. And Jirou had somehow managed to find vague directions to his home, managed to follow those vague directions without getting lost, and managed to find the right person on top of it. And she was lucky enough not to get immediately booted out and reported to the authorities. Instead she was let in, and fed taiyaki of all things.

Maybe she should spring for a lottery ticket on the way home.

Gran Torino snorted, but his face stayed solemn.

“And you know you can't tell anyone else about any of this.”

“Yes.”

“But you want to know more.”

“I do.”

“And that's why your here.”

“It is.”

Gran Torino paused for a moment, pondering, then asked:

“So whaddaya wanna know?”

Jirou blinked.

“Just like that?”

“Don't get me wrong, Kid. I'm not gonna answer your questions outta the goodness of my heart.” The fingers on one hand rapped on his upper arm. “You already know enough to be dangerous. Might as well sate your curiosity before you do something stupid.”

Well that made her feel a whole lot better.

A small bit of apprehension ticked at the back of her mind, but she pushed it down. This was her only chance to get some answers. She had to make it count.

“Well... I'd like some clarification on a few things first, if that's okay.”

“Alright. Shoot.”

“Well... I guess to start...” She clenched her fists at her knees. Her gaze drifted to her left. “So Midoriya got his quirk from All Might-sensei, right?”

She knew the answer to that, but it was as good a lead-in as any.

“He did.”

“Did All Might-sensei get that quirk from someone else?”

“Yep.”

So it was a line of succession thing. But if she had to guess where he got it from...

“Was it you?”

“Good lord no.” She could see him stifle a laugh at that. Hey, it wasn't like she had anyone else to guess.

“Then who?”

“A close friend of mine.” It was his turn to look away. “You wouldn't know her.”

Okay, but a name would've been nice.

“Well she was a hero, right? Did she do most of her work underground?”

All Might had been a hero longer than Jirou'd been alive; and from what she could gather, that power was slowly leeched from the former user after they transferred their quirk. That coupled with the fact that she'd never heard anyone so much as mention this mystery predecessor said she was retired at the very least.

Though the lingering ache in his voice said the reality was likely not so good.

“She was a hero, yeah; but you're not gonna find much more info for her than you would me.”

“So pretty much nothing.” That probably sounded almost callous knowing that this predecessor was probably, well, not alive. But it would also be presumptuous of her to jump straight to sympathy for 'Gran Torino's loss'.

“Yep.” Thankfully, Gran Torino didn't seem to think anything of it.

It was weird, though: Why would he make a point not to mention neither her hero nor real name? Jirou knew better that to press that one particular issue when there was so much more to ask. That meant she would have to look up female heroes with quirks eerily similar to All Might's if she wanted any info. And it would all be decades old at the very least.

“Is there any way we could get in touch with her or even any of the other people that had that quirk?”

This woman had never been mentioned before in any of the conversations she'd listened in on, but that didn't mean she was gone entirely. After all, Gran Torino was old – it was rare-enough (relatively) when heroes continued working past their prime; but continuing until they were old and grey was nearly unheard of. And anyone that had the quirk before her would be straight-up ancient. For all Jirou knew, one or a few of All Might's predecessors could be living it up all retired somewhere despite the signs that made the answer as obvious as a megaphone blaring in her ear.

But Gran Torino sighed.

His looked down at his cup.

Ah.

“Sorry, kid. All the others died in battle.” A grimace flickered across his face. “All Might's the exception, not the rule.”

And All Might was retired. Which meant he wasn't going to be doing anymore hero work. Which meant no more battles. And no more saving anyone. And everyone else who had that quirk probably never lived to an old age.

And coupled with everything she knew from before...

“So does that mean...” She gulped, but continued on.

“Is All Might dying?”

She knew the answer to that – no one lived forever, after all. She wasn't sure why she even bothered to ask. No one had said it outright. Maybe in a way, she just wanted someone else to confirm it so she could brace for the inevitable.

Gran Torino quirked an eyebrow.

“...I take it that means he still hasn't told the kid yet.”

So that was a yes.

He hadn't stated it directly, but Jirou wasn't sure how else that statement could be interpreted. She ignored the hollow pit that began to form in her chest.

“Well... I can't listen in on their conversations-” anymore “-but I don't think he has. Or at least, nothing about Midoriya says that he knows.”

Gran Torino grimaced at that.

“So what gave you the idea then?”

“Well... Recovery Girl said he'd be lucky to make it to Midoriya's graduation.” Though All Might himself had beaten worse odds before. “I don't know what it is, exactly; but it has to do with his old injuries, right? I mean- transferring his quirk isn't gonna be what kills him, right?”

“It's not likely.” Though his tone said that was a straight 'no'.

“If the transfer's not what's doing it, what is it? Shouldn't his retirement be enough to stop his condition from worsening if it was just his hero work?” All Might wasn't beating up baddies anymore. The most exercise he got now was the walking he did around campus. If anything, that meant he should make it to their graduation with a few years to spare.

“It ain't that simple, Kid.” The dread that came along with it said that was a real understatement.

“How come?”

A simple-enough question.

“...Let's change the subject.”

Or not.

“Okay...” As suspicious as it was for him to avoid saying that, Jirou wasn't going to argue just yet. “What about the quirk itself? I've never heard of a quirk able to be passed down to other people.”

A pause.

“I'll probably regret telling you this, but...” Gran Torino grabbed a taiyaki off the plate and continued. Jirou leaned in slightly closer and listened quietly.

“His quirk: It's called One for All.”

“Its user aren't exactly known for their permanence.”

“The kid's number nine in a line of users. Think about how long quirks have been around and do the math.”

Jirou gulped.

“What happened to them...?” She knew they died fighting, but they way he was describing it made it seem like more than just a coincidence.

“You know that villain All Might fought? That one in the Kamino ward?”

“Yeah?”

“That guy? His quirk is its counterpart: It's called All for One. The whole purpose of passing down One for All is taking 'im down eventually.” He took another swig from his mug and continued.

“I'm sure you can figure how they kicked it.”

“But All Might did that.” She saw the fight on TV. He won. That villain was carted off in an iron maiden. Everyone saw it live.

“And with any luck, all the kid'll have to deal with is the 'Symbol of Peace' mantle when he graduates.”

What?

“'With any luck?' That villain's in a maximum-security prison! He's in Tartarus!”

She hadn't meant to raise her voice like that, but that guy even took out Endeavor like he was nothing. How was anyone supposed to beat him now that All Might himself was out of commission?!

But Gran Torino didn't even flinch.

“We're talking about a quirk that can steal other quirks and compound them. You really think they're gonna be able to keep him there forever?”

What?

“All for One can steal quirks...?”

“M'hm.”

“Is... that what happened to Ragdoll?” She heard the news. Ragdoll couldn't use her quirk anymore. And if it was stolen, it probably wasn't coming back on its own.

“It is.”

“Then is there any way to make him give it back?”

“All for One can bestow quirks too, but good luck ever getting him to do it willingly.”

Jirou knew full well that real life quirks weren't balanced like they would be in a movie or videogame, but this was just ridiculous. Some people had super hearing. Jirou had super hearing and stretchy ears and the ability to channel her heartbeat to blow things up. But here's a guy who could take quirks, use them (if the Kamino footage was any indication), and give them to other people. How was anyone supposed to take that down?

“Who's he given quirks to then?”

“The first user of One for All, for starters. It's why the quirk exists in the first place.”

“What? How'd that even work?”

“One for All was created when All for One forced a strength quirk onto his younger brother, who unbeknownst to him had a quirk that could pass itself and nothing else. The two somehow combined and now here we are.”

“Wait what? Seriously, what?”

“Yep.” Not helpful.

Ugh. Okay fine. So All for One's the big bad and his brother was One for All (for lack of a better name). Apparently quirks can combine now. All for One's so old he was around back when there was no way to test if someone had a quirk or not. Which meant he had some kind of immortality quirk as well.

Great. Just. Great.

Though that did make her wonder.

“Then how'd he figure out he could pass it on?”

“Let's just stick to the stuff that's relevant for now. I'm telling you how the first user got it in the first place so you'd have context on just why we're doing this, but there's nothing else I could tell you about the other early ones in general that would help you now.”

And that was the truth. Even if she managed to get that specific bit of info, it would probably be extraneous at best. And like he said, all the other users but All Might and Midoriya were dead. At this point it mattered more the fact that the quirk could transfer at all than how the first user figured out how to do it.

“Okay... But if All for One did that, couldn't he just steal the quirk back?”

“It's funny you ask that. One for All's the one quirk he can't steal – he'd have done just that otherwise. Lucky for us, it can only be given willingly.”

Lucky indeed, since basic logic dictated that One for All was one of the only quirks that could take him down. And she wasn't sure if there were any others.

It was a little weird, though. You'd think transferring a quirk would make you unable to use it at all. But both Midoriya and All Might used that super strength during those first few months.

“So Midoriya got that quirk, but All Might was still doing hero work through the school year. Does that mean it's a gradual process?”

“Nope. The way the quirk works is that the power each user gets stacked from user to user; but once you transfer it, you're left with a finite amount and that's it.”

“So that incident with All for One...”

Gran Torino grimaced.

“Yep. Kamino took out what was left.”

Which didn't make her feel any better.

Now that All Might didn't have One for All, the source of the power that made him the strongest hero in all of Japan, he probably wouldn't be able to take on any other villains that strong even if he was perfectly healthy. Top that off with all his injuries and it's no wonder his retirement was permanent.

So then if All for One was going to break out...

That meant it would fall on All Might's successor to take him down again.

But All Might's injury was old. Midoriya clearly hadn't had the quirk for that long. Which made her wonder.

“So then... why Midoriya?”

“Huh?”

“I mean- All for One's been around for what, a century? More? What made All Might choose Midoriya of all people to be his successor?”

Midoriya was doing really well for someone with a quirk he didn't grow up with, even if his body wasn't used to it. But his inherent quirklessness was already a strike against him. Sure, there were a few quirkless heroes here and there, but they were really rare and none of them had ever made it to the upper echelons of the hero rankings. And most of them relied on gadgets. And he, well, didn't.

Wouldn't it make more sense to give it to someone who already had a quirk? Someone like Todoroki, for example, would go from being the class juggernaut to straight-up terrifying.

It wasn't like Jirou thought Midoriya was undeserving or anything. He was one of the quickest in class to throw himself headfirst into danger, consequences be damned. He was one of the best strategists out of all of them. He was great at adapting in team exercises and coordinating everyone's quirks. He was making steady progress at controlling his own quirk. He was one of the most motivated and hardest working kids in a department of 40 kids per year that regularly had almost 11,000 applications during the entrance exams.

It's just that he didn't have the obvious build or charisma one would expect from the Symbol of Peace's successor. And apparently he'd only gotten into U.A. because he rescued Uraraka from the no-point robot during the exam and shattered most of his limbs in the process. He was, to put it bluntly, a total dweeb at the beginning of the school year. It didn't make sense that All Might would choose someone like that with the threat of annihilation looming over his head.

Gran Torino sighed. He knew what she meant.

“Well, we thought All for One died six years ago – same time All Might got his injury. It wasn't until a couple months ago we realized that wasn't the case.”

“And by then, the quirk had already been transferred...” Jirou said to herself, soft but still audible.

“Yep.”

That made sense.

Wait- she wasn't trying to sound like she didn't want him to have that quirk or anything. Or trying to argue that it was a bad idea. Man, that's not what she was going for.

“Oh- I didn't mean anything by that, by the way.” She shook her hands in front of her chest, then moved one to the back of her head. “It's just- well-”

Gran Torino just sighed and waved a hand dismissively.

“Nah, I understand. Kids your age almost all have quirks and you're at U.A. to boot. Makes sense to wonder why he's the chosen one.” There was a little bite to that sentence, but nothing scathing. In fact, it brought a small smile to his lips instead.

Anyway, whether Midoriya was originally quirkless or not didn't matter anymore now that he had One for All. Sure, he didn't have anything to augment it, but that wouldn't be much of a problem once he was strong-enough to punch through buildings and propel himself forward faster than even some people with speed quirks.

But how was All Might going to fight if the villains attacked again if he didn't have it anymore??

“Actually, speaking of quirks...” She brought both hands back to her lap. “I know All Might-sensei's never told the media what his quirk really is, but is his other one at least something he can use?”

Maybe he had a really powerful healing factor? Maybe he had something completely useless like bendy fingers or nose extension? Whatever it was, she hoped it was something he could at least utilize to some degree.

“Seriously, kid?” What? It's not like she had any idea of what it actually was.

“I mean- I've only ever seen his super strength. And that's what One for All is, right?” She scratched her head. “And it's not like the other one got overwritten, right?”

“Doesn't matter. He's not going back on the front lines.”

Both sentences had hidden subtext, but Jirou wasn't sure how to parse it. Of course he wasn't going back on the front lines. He technically wasn't a hero anymore, after all. But certainly did matter what his quirk was. How else was he going to fight if he had to? Gadgets? Martial arts? A gun?

“Well I mean- I know he's retired, but what is he supposed to do if we do get attacked again?”

She gulped.

Her hands balled into fists.

More words fell out her mouth before she could even think to stop.

“What are we supposed to do?”

Gran Torino stared at the table for a moment.

Then sighed.

“Guess you think I've got all the answers, huh kid.”

“I mean... You've told me more than anyone else has. And you seem to know everything that's going on.” And are actually willing to answer questions about it. “So that means there's gotta be some kinda plan, right?”

“Like you said: All Might's retired, so he's focusing on teaching. But otherwise the plan is to just round up everyone affiliated with the Villain Alliance before they can do any real damage – including going after you kids again.”

“And what about Midoriya?”

Gran Torino blinked.

“What about 'im?”

“Well... Midoriya's the center of all this, isn't he? What's his role specifically?” Obviously he wasn't going to be hunting down league members on by himself or anything like that, but he could potentially get in on the lighter end of the action right now.

“He's All Might's successor. That's his role.” Nothing else? “But the idea is to get all this nonsense settled before he has to deal with it himself. Can't do much with just a provisional license anyway.”

“Yeah.” And being confined to U.A. meant he wasn't going to be able to sneak out and do hero stuff on his own regardless. “I'm pretty sure he's interning with Sir Nighteye, though. Are they targeting the league?”

“Sir Nighteye and All Might haven't coordinated anything in years.” The annoyance in his tone said that there was a reason for that. “Even so, I doubt he's gonna let the kid get in too much trouble on his own.”

“So right now he's just focusing on getting stronger.” Simple enough. That's what everyone else at school was doing too. And seeing as how they were in the country's top hero school, there wasn't going to be any question on how much that education would benefit them all.

“Yep.”

“Makes sense.”

Gran Torino paused to grab another taiyaki.

Then took a bite.

Then suggested:

“And you're figuring that since he's a good friend of yours, you'll help him out with that.”

…

Huh.

'Friend.'

Gran Torino had said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and his logic made sense, but...

“Well... He's not, to be honest.” She did consider Midoriya a friend, yeah; but only in the same way she considered everyone else in Class A her friend. It wasn't like they went out of their way to talk or get to know each other. They were friendly acquaintances at most.

“You're going this far to help him.”

Anyone would if they knew what she did.

“I'd have already told him I knew if we were. Everything I know about this is from hearing it secondhand.”

It wasn't that she avoided him or anything. It was more that their friend groups didn't really overlap. Jirou mostly hung out with the other girls, and Uraraka was the only girl Midoriya talked with on a regular basis. Midoriya mostly spent time with Iida and Todoroki; Jirou never had a reason to getting buddy-buddy with either of them.

She continued, gently waving her hands in front of her.

“Don't get me wrong – he's a really good guy! We've just never had any reason to get close.”

Gran Torino's eyes furrowed.

“...Then just what are you planning on doing with this information, kid?”

Indeed, what.

She came for answers. She was getting those answers. But in hindsight, she hadn't actually put much thought into what would happen after getting those answers. Part of it was because she didn't know what she didn't know. Another was because she never expected to get this far in the first place. So...

“Well... I don't know, to be honest.”

Gran Torino just snorted at that.

“You tracked me down, found out where I live, rode a train for god-knows-how-long, and you don't know.”

Well when he put it that way...

“I mean, I want to help him.” She grimaced. “I just don't know how.”

“So what're you expecting to do? Follow him around and protect 'im without 'im knowing it like some kinda guardian angel?”

Hah. That would be a sight to see.

“I know he can take care of himself.” And she knew she would be the one getting saved if there was another attack at this point. “It's just... I know this is something big. If there's anything I can do to help, I want to do it. And I know more than pretty much anyone else at school.”

More than Midoriya himself, at this point.

“Users of One for All usually have a close friend they can trust to keep their secret. I was Nana's. Toshi- All Might has that cop friend of his. Who's the kid got, if not you?”

Good question.

She thought back over the school year. There wasn't anyone who actively disliked Midoriya (anymore, at least), but of the people he hung out with the most...

Uraraka was his closest female friend, and was apparently the first person in their class (Bakugou aside) that he'd met in the beginning of the school year. She wore her heart on her sleeve, even if she was trying to change that; but Jirou had never seen anything that said she knew more than she was letting on.

Iida was the class president and next in line to take on the Ingenium name. He was earnest to a fault and there was no way he would refuse Midoriya if asked for assistance. Plus trusting a secret with someone with that kind of lineage would have its benefits. But there was no way he wouldn't have mentioned it at least once behind closed doors.

Todoroki was the kid of the now-#1-hero. Jirou didn't exactly know the context of what Midoriya yelled at him during the sports festival; but whatever it was, it got through to him and he chilled out after (for the most part; he still had some latent anger issues he really needed to work on). And now the two of them were best friends. And yet he never said anything suspicious either.

Those three looked to be the kids he was closest to, and Jirou knew they were all good people; but not one of them had ever given any hints of knowing anything more than the others. Which was nothing. Apparently Todoroki thought Midoriya was All Might's kid at one point, but that was the closest thing any one of them had and it was still way off the mark.

But if they weren't in on it, who else could...

...

Memories of the night following the license exam crept back into her mind.

The fight that occurred while seemingly no one else was awake.

How it was All Might himself who put a stop to it.

How it took the two of them a strangely long time to come back to the dorms after.

How the strain on their relationship was almost gone now, even if it didn't look it at a glance.

…

That was probably the answer.

“Well... there's Katsuki Bakugou. I think.”

Gran Torino cocked an eyebrow.

“That spiky ball a' TNT?”

Yes that spiky ball of TNT.

“Yeah. I'm not a 100% sure on it, but if there's anyone else our age that knows about Midoriya's quirk, it's probably him.”

She continued. “But besides maybe him, I don't think anyone knows but me. He's got some close friends, but it doesn't sound like he's told them yet.”

“So you think you're gonna do it in their stead?”

Could she?

She shrugged.

“I guess so.”

Gran Torino locked eyes with her.

She froze.

He spoke.

“You don't sound too sure.”

She really wasn't.

Jirou wasn't useless, but there was no chance that Midoriya would choose her over any one of his actual friends to carry his secret on if he had any say in the matter.

And given the gravity of the situation, it made sense he hadn't told any of them yet. He didn't like it when people worried about him, after all.

But Jirou knew his secret, and there wasn't anything he could do to change that.

She wasn't the strongest.

Or the fastest.

Or the smartest.

She just had a quirk that let her hear things she shouldn't and enough of a brain to put two and two together.

But if he really didn't have anyone else...

She gulped.

Then nodded.

“I will.”

Gran Torino reached over to grab the last taiyaki off the plate.

“You're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for, kid.” He took a bite. “I can tell you that.”

Gee. Thanks. Not like she wasn't already getting more than she bargained for.

“So what can I do in the meantime?”

“Get stronger and give 'im support when he needs it.”

“Nothing specific?”

“Not unless yer' planning on being his sidekick or his secretary.”

“Yeah no.” She had her own plans for the future and they didn't revolve around Midoriya, as much as she was worrying now. There wasn't even any guarantee that things were gonna get worse from here on out. She wasn't to put everything on hold for something that wasn't even certain.

“Just make sure you two actually have a talk sooner than later. The middle of a fight's not the place to be droppin' a bombshell like that.”

That... was something she had to do, wasn't it. Midoriya wasn't exactly a mind reader. He wasn't going to know she knew unless she told him directly. And unless she did... well... how else was he gonna know?

She swallowed, then looked Gran Torino in the eye and said in the most determined tone of voice she could muster:

“Got it.”

But she broke eye contact as soon as she finished that sentence.

Gran Torino looked like he was considering something. He brought a curled finger to his chin. It was a few moments before he spoke again.

“...Tell me, kid. What's the range of that quirk of yours?”

Huh. That came out of nowhere.

“If you mean the surveillance part: it depends on where I am and the noise around me; but if I'm in a building, I can usually hear everything going on inside.”

Gran Torino nodded, then reached into his pocket.

“Alright, gimme your phone.”

...

“Huh?”

“And put your number in mine.” He tossed the smartphone onto her lap and finished the last bite of the taiyaki in his other hand. “You're still a brat now, but that power could be useful later.”

There was an implicit 'for this investigation' at the end. She chose not to have him confirm that.

Instead she unlocked her phone and handed it to him with a small “okay.”, then went to fill in her contact info on his.

It was quick. Just her name and number. No selfie pic or anything extra.

She hit finish. Her contact was open. She instinctively hit the back button.

There were only a few names on the list. She saw Midoriya's and Detective Tsukauchi's among them, but didn't recognize any of the others. Shouldn't All Might's number be there too? Well- he probably wouldn't be labeled 'All Might' if they'd known each other that long. What was his real name again?

Though one name did catch her eye. It was located right above her own.

'Nana Shimura'.

Huh. Where had she heard that name befo-

Oh.

Gran Torino had mentioned a Nana before.

And the context her name was used in said she was All Might's predecessor.

There was only one Nana on that list.

It couldn't be her, could it?

That Nana was dead. And likely had been for a very long time.

And Nana was a pretty common name, right?

It was probably someone else.

Except...

Something else clicked.

The surname.

Jirou's eyes were on the now-empty taiyaki plate before she realized it.

...

She grimaced and reopened her own contact page. Best to pretend she didn't see anything. She wasn't even trying to snoop this time.

Thankfully Gran Torino's eyes were focused on her phone.

He looked up a moment later. They locked eyes.

“Y'done?”

There was really no reason for that to startle her. But it did.

“Um- yeah.”

“Alright. Give it here.”

They traded their phones back (without any tossing this time). Jirou looked at the name on the contact page.

Jii Torino.

That wasn't his real name, was it? It wasn't often that heroes used their own names as their aliases, though there were kanji here as opposed to the normal katakana (if pages upon pages of google search results with that name were any indication). Though the fact that the Jii used the kanji for 'old man' was a good indication that the spelling for his name was different, if nothing else.

Gran Torino seemed to read her mind.

“It's not my real name, but you should be able to remember it's me.”

She probably should've done the same thing.

“Oh, I put my real name in yours. Should I change it? I can-”

“Forget it. I'll do it later.”

“Okay...”

So that was that. She was curious about that contact and the potential connections that came with it, but obviously she couldn't just bring it up directly.

Hopefully the next weird segue wouldn't give him that much of a clue.

Jirou gulped.

“So, if I can ask...”

“Yeah?”

“Just... who is Tomura Shigaraki?” Her eyes flicked to the plate again.

Gran Torino frowned. It didn't get past him.

“Those documents're classified.”

Truth, but also a deflection.

“All Might and Detective Tsukauchi were talking about him.”

“And?”

“And it doesn't make sense that All Might would be asking about just him if he were being kept up on everyone else All for One was associated with.” The league wasn't huge, but there was a number of members. Those members were equally deadly in their own right, but they didn't seem to be a bunch of zealots blindly spreading the word of their leader. In that case, nabbing Shigaraki wouldn't lead to much if they didn't get all the others with him.

“...You're real observant, kid. I'll give you that. But he's a criminal – one who's hurt a lot of people.”

“He doesn't look that much older than us.”

An observation more than any kind of argument. She knew what he was capable of. He was the one who led the charge on the attacks against U.A.. He didn't see anything wrong with trying to kill literal teenagers if he meant getting to All Might. Aizawa took weeks to recover after USJ even with Recovery Girl helping with the treatment. Anyone who knew that would be an idiot to underestimate him.

“He isn't. But that doesn't make him any less dangerous.” Gran Torino laced his fingers together. “It looks like All for One's propping him up to be his successor, which means Shigaraki is going to try and rebuild his empire. The sooner he's behind bars, the better.”

He said it as if it were certain, but his tone said otherwise. His words were calm and controlled, but Jirou could hear the tiny ounce of strain that came with them. The strain of regret – that kind that things didn't have to be this way. He didn't want a criminal running loose in the streets if he could help it, obviously.

But even with a few words alone, Jirou could tell he had far too much emotional stock in a man that shouldn't be half as hard to deal with as his predecessor was.

Which all but outright stated they had some sort of connection.

So then...

“It's really weird, though.” Jirou brought a curled finger to her chin, and focused her eyes down on the table. “All for One's gotta be ancient. Why would he choose a guy so young to succeed him? What makes Shigaraki so special?”

A bit on the nose, but they were perfectly valid questions on their own right. A guy over a century old would have all the time in the world to find and groom the perfect successor. And nothing about Jirou's (admittedly limited) knowledge of Shigaraki suggested he was a particularly rare breed of genius or a prodigy. Someone in the business that long wouldn't choose a random kid to do it, so there had to be some reason.

But the answer she'd get would tell her what she really wanted to know.

“...No idea. There's no real background info on him.”

Yep.

Two lies in one go.

Gran Torino knew something about Shigaraki's backstory. And the small twist inside him said it was something big.

And yet he wasn't willing to share it, even though he shared pretty much everything else freely.

If Shigaraki had a normal rage, greed, or wrong-side-of-the-tracks backstory, it wouldn't make sense to hide it. Lots of villains were like that. It didn't make any difference in whether they were gonna be arrested or not. At most it would get them mandatory therapy and maybe a lighter sentence. Though Shigaraki would be lucky if ever saw the light of day again given what he'd done.

Which made it all-the-weirder that Gran Torino had misgivings about arresting him.

Maybe Gran Torino knew him.

Maybe he knew someone related to him.

That case file on the table was for Tomura Shigaraki, after all.

But Tomura Shigaraki was just an alias.

He had a real name.

'Tenko Shimura'.

And there was a Shimura in Gran Torino's contact list. The kanji were the same. Shimura wasn't exactly a common surname. That alone gave the possibility of some kind of connection.

Nana was the name of the previous One for All user.

Shimura was the only Nana in a contact list with barely any numbers.

If they were the same person, then that Shimura was a close friend of Gran Torino's.

And it would also mean that that Shimura was dead.

It could be a coincidence – Jirou didn't have any actual hard evidence one way or another; but something in her gut told her it wasn't that simple.

If Shigaraki was her son or related to her in some other way, it would only make sense for Gran Torino to feel the way he did. A lot of people looked out for their friends' kids when something happened to said friends. Obviously it would hurt to see them fall as far as he did. Even more so when their parents were such good people.

But if that was the case, then why would Shigaraki choose to become a villain? He was related to a hero. And said hero was such a good person that she was granted what had to be one of the strongest quirks in the world. She wasn't some asshole in it for the glory who couldn't care less about saving people. She was one who was, well, the complete opposite of that (considering she'd gotten One for All and everything). If anything, he should want to emulate that kind of altruism.

And even putting that aside, how come no one was able to stop him before it got to this point? People rarely became villains for no reason. Shouldn't the people around him have seen the warning signs? Did no one try and help him? Were his problems ones that even could be helped? Though it was obviously too late for that now – what, with Shigaraki being a murderous psychopath leading what was probably one of the most dangerous villain organizations in all of Japan.

Even though she wasn't there to witness All Might's fight during the USJ incident, she knew he didn't just let Shigaraki leave. And no one ever mentioned that kind of connection either even though that would be the most obvious thing to bring up if anyone was talking about him. Shigaraki's real name was right there in the police file. Sure, Shimura was dead, but wouldn't they have already made the connection anyway if there was one? Wouldn't someone have at least tried to use that to get a hold of him?

One thing the hero program always tried to hit home was that there were a lot of villains with sympathetic backstories; but just because they had their own reasons didn't mean that excused their actions. Stealing in order to help feed your family was still stealing. Murder in order to avenge a loved one was still murder. A criminal committing a crime needed to be arrested, and the judgment dealt to them needed to be through the legal system. And that included people you were related to or friends with.

But theory rarely translated perfectly into reality. Jirou wasn't sure what she'd do if she were in Gran Torino's shoes, to be honest. Ideally, she would put those feelings aside and do her job to catch the villain, regardless of how they were related to people she knew. But she also knew that she'd be a lot more willing to give someone a second chance if she knew them beforehand, and knew they were a good person despite, y'know, being a criminal.

Gran Torino was a seasoned and experienced hero (if almost completely unknown). He wouldn't make the same mistakes a rookie would – including letting someone he knew get away if he had the opportunity to catch them. Because being related to a loved one didn't lessen the impact of his crimes, or change the fact that he tried to murder people (including kids). Even if some small part of him made him think it was still possible to make Shigaraki see the light.

The regret in his voice made that clear enough.

...

“Kid, you keep starin' at that plate. Just tell me if you want me to make some more.”

That jolted Jirou back into reality.

She regained her focus. Right. Still in the middle of a stranger's apartment. Still in the middle of a conversation. Not the time to be overthinking things. Play it cool.

“Oh um- No, I'm fine.”

Jirou would be lying if she said she didn't want to know the whole story. But like Gran Torino said, that information was classified. He probably gave her that tidbit because it was related to All for One. And Jirou had a feeling that it also doubled as a way to remind himself that his friend's relative wasn't Tenko Shimura anymore.

So instead...

“Does he know about Midoriya? Shigaraki, I mean.” The attacks on U.A. were on their class in general rather than concentrated on him, which indicated that he probably didn't. But it couldn't hurt to make sure.

It was Gran Torino's turn to have an uncomfortably long pause.

“I don't think Shigaraki knows, no.” He grimaced. “But All for One does.”

Shit.

“So... how long has he known?”

“He made the guess during the Kamino incident. But it was long after Shigaraki was out of the area. And he was arrested right after. So Shigaraki shouldn't have any idea yet.” Yet. He sent her a pointed look. Everyone had managed to keep it a secret for this long. If it got out now it probably would be because of her.

She couldn't blame him for thinking that.

“Does Midoriya know he knows?”

“Only if All Might told him, so probably not.” She knew Gran Torino didn't mean to sound scathing, but ouch.

“So if All for One is in prison and he's the only one who's figured it out, that means Midoriya's safe for now, right?”

“It should. Though that depends on whether or not he keeps sticking his nose where it doesn't belong.”

Which probably meant 'no' since sitting on the sidelines doing nothing was not how Midoriya rolled.

So then...

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She knew he said to support Midoriya when he needed it. And that was something she could do (and would if she needed to). But her role wasn't automatically gonna be that of the trusted friend Midoriya willingly shared his secret with. And unlike Detective Tsukauchi and Gran Torino, she didn't have any way of otherwise helping on her own time. If Gran Torino had an idea, she'd be all for it.

Gran Torino shifted slightly.

“Part of why I'm telling you all this is in case All For One does get out before you graduate. The second that happens Midoriya's gonna have a bigger target on his back than he does now.”

He continued. “You want a job? If All Might hasn't told him that by then, you'll have to. I don't care how fast the kid learns. There's no way he'll be able to survive a concentrated villain onslaught unprepared if he's still in high school.”

Concern. Frustration. Tied hands. Exasperation. The thin layer of harshness in his voice would be audible to someone at even a normal level of hearing, even if the nuances weren't clear.

And Jirou agreed with its implication.

“Alright I will, but-” There was probably a reason he hadn't done it himself, but- “Shouldn't we let him know now then? So he can prepare just in case?”

“I may have given him his field training, but All Might's his mentor. So it's his call what to tell the kid and when, even if I don't agree with it.”

He continued, crossing his arms. “Not to mention it wouldn't do him any good right now unless All for One decides to break out of prison tomorrow. You know the kid. He's finally started to not break his arms at every turn. Last thing he needs is to think he has to again for a scenario that's not even likely to happen.”

“So... what doesn't Midoriya know, then?” All for One knowing he was the successor was the obvious answer, but she probably shouldn't start blurting out things Midoriya didn't know right after explaining that his secret was safe with her.

“It'd make more sense to ask what he does know.” Which was not much, apparently. “But I don't see him much for obvious reasons, so I dunno how much All Might's told him. Just have 'im tell you what he knows when you tell him you know about One for All and go off that.”

Simple-enough.

“Alright.”

He looked unconvinced.

“Look, I can't stop you if you really want to, but use your best judgment. You can't take it back once the cat's out of the bag.”

He didn't need to say that. Jirou knew more than most just what the consequences of telling people the wrong things at the wrong time were.

“I'll keep it on the down low for now, don't worry. I just gotta tell him I know about his quirk and the line of succession thing, but I'll hold off on everything else until the prison break unless he tells me about it first.”

It was weird thinking of it as an inevitability. Because again: Tartarus. But she wasn't going to dismiss the possibility. At best, All for One would die in prison. At worst, he was just biding his time waiting for the right moment to go on another rampage. And Jirou knew which scenario would be best to prepare for.

“Good.” Gran Torino sounded a bit relieved, and a touch disappointed; but didn't let it change the stern look on his face.

Another pause between them.

So they'd gone over the quirk itself.

The line of succession.

Supporting the successor.

Midoriya, the successor.

Shigaraki, the villain successor.

All for One, the reason behind this whole mess in the first place.

All Might-

…

She never did get an answer, did she.

…

Well, seeing as how pretty much everything else did, and seeing as how she didn't really have anything else to ask...

She grimaced.

“Um... Would it be alright if I asked one more question?”

Gran Torino's eyes narrowed.

“Something tells me I'm not gonna like it, but shoot.”

Based on how he dodged giving details before, probably not.

It had an obvious answer too.

And the only reason she wasn't going with that obvious answer was the few bits that didn't make sense.

And sure, she knew she was nowhere near qualified to actually do it herself seeing as she was only 16 and nowhere near as strong as a pro hero. And she wasn't a doctor. And really, she didn't have any skill set that she could use otherwise.

But how would she know for sure without asking?

She clenched her fists at her knees.

And pushed back the ache beginning to form in her face.

And swallowed.

“Is... there any way we can save All Might-sensei?”

...

A pause.

“From what?”

Playing dumb. Hoping she'd drop it.

She wasn't going to.

“From whatever's going to kill him.”

All Might was dying. Anyone would guess natural causes. But it wasn't going to be that alone. It couldn't be.

“No one's gonna live forever, kid – not even the Symbol of Peace. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

Deflecting. Stating the obvious. Implying inevitability without giving a reason. Avoiding saying that exact reason.

But he didn't end the conversation right then and there.

And she would keep going until he did.

“I know, but-” It would be easier if it was just his health, but- “You said it wasn't going to be because of his injuries.”

“I said it wasn't that simple.”

And those kinds of roundabout answers weren't going to convince her.

“The only health issues All Might-sensei has are related to his injuries. Recovery Girl would have mentioned them otherwise.”

“...What's your point?”

That something was off. That there was something missing. That natural causes were out of the question, but nothing else she was aware of could be that much of a ticking timebomb.

Which meant it had to be something else.

The question was what.

“My point is that if it were, you'd have said so.” She caught herself before she began to yell, forcing here voice back to a more even tone. “But you didn't. Why?”

A pause.

Gran Torino laced his fingers together.

Then set his elbows on his knees.

Then hunched over.

And rested his chin on his hands.

His eyes fixed on the table.

“Tell me, kid: Do you believe you can change the future?”

...

Her eyebrows furrowed.

Wasn't something that people – usually heroes – said was that the 'the future is in your hands'? It sounded mindlessly optimistic more often than not, but there was a kernel of truth to it – especially for heroes: It was their duty to save as many people as possible during crises. People needed all the help they could get when in danger. One more person stepping be could be the difference between life and death. Wasn't that just common sense?

So then why did that question sound rhetorical?

Her gut said to take the hint and drop it.

Her gut was what got her here in the first place.

Her gut would have to deal with it.

She gave the most obvious response she could think of:

“Well, can't we?”

Even as a question on it's own, that was the answer, right?

But Gran Torino took a deep breath.

Then exhaled. A small, airy noise hissed out of his shoes.

“Even if it's been preordained?”

Why would it be?

Why was he already making it sound like a lost cause?

“Where are you going with this?”

He didn't look up.

“Sir Nighteye's quirk let 'im see how it's gonna happen, and he's never been wrong.”

If Sir Nighteye could see the future...

And if Sir Nighteye was never wrong...

...

Gran Torino continued:

“If you what's going to happen, and that nothing you do can change it, do you really want to live with that knowledge?”

…

No.

She didn't.

Old age was one thing. She could deal with All Might dying because of that. Heck, she could even deal with him succumbing to years upon years of compounded injuries that never fully healed. It would hurt, but those were peaceful, natural causes. Anyone could take solace in that kind of inevitability. Eventually.

But this...

She'd already confirmed it wasn't going to be because of his health. Gran Torino would've said it by now if it were. Jirou wasn't a medic and as far as she knew, All Might would've already been healed by now if there were some quirk user capable of doing that. It wouldn't make sense to treat that kind of situation so gravely. It would be depressing, but not any cause for alarm. It was... well... just life.

There was also the possibility of an accident. Or some kind of natural disaster. Things that were seemingly random, but could really happen to anyone. It... really didn't fit to think of All Might as a random casualty in that kind of incident. And again, it wouldn't make sense for Gran Torino to keep indirectly asking her if she was really okay with knowing what was going to happen if that were the case.

There was an ache in Gran Torino's voice when he asked that question. That alone should've been enough to make her take the hint and change the subject to something less bleak. But all it did was give her the urge to come up with every worst-case scenario she could. Because if it wasn't going to be random and it wasn't going to be due to natural causes, it was going to be planned. Which was bad.

Very very bad.

And clearly something way beyond the level anyone but the strongest heroes.

Which Jirou clearly wasn't one of.

…

There probably wasn't anything she could do.

She was in high school.

She wasn't even near the top of her class.

Of course it would make sense that there wouldn't be.

But if there was...

And she chose not to...

...

She swallowed.

Her mouth was dry.

She picked her mug up off the table and took a sip of what was left.

It wasn't a good idea. She knew it wasn't a good idea.

But...

“If I don't know, I can't even try.”

A pause.

Another sigh.

Gran Torino looked at her with tired eyes.

Another few seconds passed.

He grimaced.

And said:

“Okay, kid. But don't say I didn't warn you.”

She nodded, and leaned forward.

He nodded in turn, and continued.

“The easiest way to put it is that a villain's going to kill All Might sometime this year or next.”

Ah.

Death by villain.

That... made sense. All Might didn't have his quirk anymore, so he wouldn't be able to fight at the level he used to. His body had to be strong-enough to use that power in the first place, but he wasn't the force of nature able to move kilometers in mere seconds or punch hard-enough to change the weather anymore. It stood to reason that he wouldn't be able to take everyone he used to. Which meant he wasn't essentially invincible anymore. Which meant there were fights he could lose now.

But he was retired, which meant he wasn't going to be hunting down villains like he used to. And he lived on campus with all the other teachers. And he never seemed to leave on his own (though it wasn't like she could follow him that far with sound alone). So the hardest part for any villain would probably be getting to him in the first place. All Might had a number of enemies, but almost all of them were in prison now. And any that weren't shouldn't be strong-enough to breech U.A.'s security (which included a number of active pro heroes).

But even then, who would be strong-enough to-

...

God dammit.

There was only one villain she could think of off the top of her head that would be able to do that. And that villain wasn't going to be in prison forever.

“It's going to be All for One, isn't it.”

Gran Torino shook his head. Thank god.

“All I can tell you is that it won't be All for One, because otherwise we'd have known he was still alive in the first place.”

Which was... good...?

All for One could only be defeated by All Might back at Kamino, but he was the only villain like that, right? That meant whatever villain it was could at least be defeated by other heroes. Which would hopefully make it mostly a matter of just finding that villain in time.

“Is there anything else? Like place? Time of day? Description of the villain?” Really, wouldn't it be enough just to get a location and make sure All Might NEVER EVER goes there until like three years from now? Or maybe keep an eye on all villains that fit the physical description? Or make sure he has an escort during those weather conditions? Heck, why not use the national quirk database to narrow down potential suspects if they had an idea on how it was gonna happen?

“S'far as I know, Sir was never able to pinpoint anything but the timeframe. And even when he's had that kinda info in the past, he still never managed to change the outcome of what he saw.”

“But he saw something, right?”

Something? Anything? That's how Sir Nighteye knew, right? Jirou didn't know exactly how that quirk worked, but wasn't there something he could go off of? Couldn't he 'trace' All Might's steps back to a point where he was in a recognizable area? See who he was around? See what they talked about?

Gran Torino shifted uncomfortably, but continued to look straight ahead.

“I didn't go pressin' for the gritty details.”

What the hell?

“But why not?” Jirou's hands slammed the table. She didn't bother trying to reign in her volume. “You've known for years, haven't you? Isn't there something you could've done by now?”

Gran Torino didn't even flinch. Jirou went on.

“All Might is going to die. We only have until next year at most. Why isn't anyone doing anything to change that?!-”

“You think we haven't tried?”

Her mouth snapped shut.

She didn't know how to respond to that. Her body went rigid. Not even from some kind of quirk. Just the ice in that one sentence.

She screwed up. Gran Torino clearly hadn't been sure whether or not to tell her, but he did anyway. And the first thing she did was snap at him for it like some kind of idiot. Which was probably the dumbest thing she could've done outside of outright attacking him.

So what was she supposed to do now?

Apologize?

Beg for forgiveness?

Run?

...

Gran Torino took a deep breath.

Then continued, voice back to it's normal tone.

“Look, I wanna stop it as much as you do. But if we can't, it makes more sense to mitigate the fallout instead.” His eyes flickered to the paper stack. “Crime's already been goin' up since All Might retired. What do you think's gonna happen when word gets out a villain got him?”

Which was... a logical way to look at it.

Even though All Might was retired, he was still known as the former Symbol of Peace. A number of people still thought he would come back some day to continue his hero work. None of them knew he no longer had the quirk that made him so strong. None of them knew what Jirou did now. All Might losing to some villain – potentially in an incident as destructive as Kamino – would take most people by surprise, to put it lightly.

Jirou didn't even want to think about what would happen after.

“But... Is there really no way around it?”

She'd never put too much thought into how much of her own fate she controlled, but she'd always assumed it was something she could if she knew what was supposed to happen. And as far as she was concerned, knowing things ahead of time could cause some kind of butterfly effect and change the outcome even if she tried to make everything turn out exactly as predicted.

But if Sir Nighteye's quirk really was never wrong, then that meant there was nothing anyone could do.

…

Was it really that hopeless?

“If you change the future, or the kid does, or even All Might does, it'll be something no one else has ever managed to do before.”

She looked down at the table. He continued.

“I won't say it's impossible, but be realistic.” His fingers clenched closer together. His gloves made a small noise as they rubbed against one another. “If you can pull it off, great. But don't expect whatever plan you come up with to work out just because you put in the effort. It'll only hurt that much more if you do.”

Then what was she supposed to do?

Of course it wouldn't be as easy as coming up with a plan, doing some training, and hoping for the best. She was a kid. And on top of that, she didn't have any resources or potential leads beyond Lurkers and whatever other publicly available sites she came across. There really wasn't anything she could do that, say, Gran Torino or any other hero couldn't (aside from super hearing, which wasn't going to be of much use at the moment since there was only so much she could listen in on at U.A). And she couldn't leave campus without having a reason (and 'I wanna go home for the weekend' would only work so many times, if even once more).

She obviously couldn't follow All Might 24/7 like some kind of bodyguard. She obviously couldn't recruit heroes, teachers, or classmates to become some kind of 'All Might defense force'. That was a simple-enough idea that Gran Torino or All Might had probably considered it. And then ditched it because of all the ways it couldn't possibly work.

There wasn't anything she could think to do.

But she couldn't just let him die.

Just... Ugh...

“Kid, you feelin' alright?”

No. She really wasn't.

How could she be?

None of this was okay.

All Might was going to die if he didn't get some kind of miracle.

Sir Nighteye predicting such all but made that a set-in-stone fact.

Gran Torino, one of the closest people to this, didn't think there was any chance of stopping it.

If they couldn't do anything about it, why would she be any different?

But she couldn't freak out.

That wouldn't solve anything.

Deep breath.

Reel it in.

Calm down.

Freaking out wasn't going to solve anything.

She went a more reasonable volume, and rubbed the back of her head apologetically.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for getting carried away.”

She didn't know what anyone else had been doing about Sir Nighteye's prophecy. She didn't know how many people knew at all. Even with all this new information, she knew it was only the tip of the iceberg.

It wasn't fair to snap at Gran Torino. He gave her a quick rundown on pretty much everything she needed to know; and even though he obviously hadn't planned on telling her the worst parts, he went through with it anyway instead of kicking her out or making up insultingly blatant lies. And that was a good thing, right? For all Jirou knew, he was the only person that was willing to do that. What idiot would throw that kind of goodwill back in someone's face?

So what should she do, then? Change the subject and ask about something else?

She hadn't even been there an hour, but she'd already learned so much her head was spinning.

All for One was going to break out of Tartarus.

Midoriya had to defeat All for One.

And that was bad enough without adding the fact that All Might only had a year and a half left to live at most. And that even the pro heroes seemed to have given up on changing it.

Jirou was not a pro hero. Jirou was not a master strategist. Jirou was not a prodigy in any way, shape, or form and she definitely didn't have accesses to the kinds of resources that could guarantee she'd accomplish something everyone apparently no one else had ever managed to before. She was as close to a normal high school student someone in U.A.'s hero course could be.

That aside, she had to to think:

Was there anything she still needed to ask?

Was there anything she still needed to know?

This trip had been nothing but revelation after revelation. She had her questions go down rabbit holes she neither expected nor wanted to know about. There was so much information swimming in her head that she wasn't sure she'd even be able to remember all the the important stuff. And Gran Torino had already made it clear that he only expected her to support Midoriya when the time came. So there wasn't any point in trying to come up with a plan right now. And god forbid she start trying to make small talk.

So... the next course of action was fairly obvious:

“Well... Actually... I think that's just about everything I wanted to ask. So I think I should be going now. Thank you for answering my questions. I really appreciate it.”

She didn't have to leave just yet. There was plenty of time left before she had to meet her friend. And a little niggling at the back of her mind said she hadn't gotten everything she could yet.

But a bigger part said she needed to leave. Now.

This was a safe place. She was with a pro hero. There weren't any villains around. There wasn't any danger and she didn't feel like she was in any danger.

But discomfort lurched through her chest.

And staying wasn't going to make it go away.

...Yeah, that would be the best thing to do for now.

Gran Torino nodded.

“Yer' welcome.” He hopped off his couch. “And by the way, you should tell All Might what you know when you get the chance too.”

Yeah. She needed to tell Midoriya. After that, All Might would be the next logical person to explain herself to. Hopefully he wouldn't be mad that she not only broke her promise, but also rode a train into a whole nother prefecture in order to get the answers she knew he wouldn't give himself.

Though it'd probably be best to hold off on certain parts until they were needed.

Man, she really wondered how she was going to explain that, though. Whether to All Might or Midoriya. Honestly, if someone from the future gave her a blow-by-blow account of everything that just happened within the last hour, she wouldn't believe them. Well- they could always call Gran Torino to clarify, but it wouldn't make the situation any less weird.

Though she could conveniently forget to mention Gran Torino for now. It wasn't like they needed to know about her blatantly breaking school rules just a few weeks after everyone moved into the dorms so they wouldn't get into situations that could turn deadly if they weren't careful.

“Okay. I will.

Oh and before she could forget:

“Oh yeah- um... Could you not tell anyone about me coming here or what we talked about?” She twiddled her lobes together. “No one knows I'm in Yamanashi.”

Gran Torino had a laugh at that. A good portion of the heavy atmosphere permeating the room dropped instantly.

“Seriously, kid? You either got guts or no brain.” He reached over and picked up the taiyaki plate. “You're lucky I didn't turn out to be some sorta whackjob.”

And he was right about that. Jirou had spent the whole trip covering her tracks to get there, and she didn't see any surveillance cameras when she came down the street leading to this building.

If she'd been wrong and wound up at a villain's house, she would've been screwed.

Gran Torino continued.

“That being said, I'm not gonna go around tellin' people how some high schooler just came to my door askin' about things she shouldn't know even exist.” He unceremoniously tossed the plate in the sink. It made a clattering sound as it hit the other tableware inside. “But I'm not gonna lie if they come askin' about you.”

Fair enough.

“I understand. Thanks again.” Jirou nodded and pushed herself up off the couch then grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Anyway, I'll be heading out now. It was nice meeting you, Gran Torino.”

“Alright. See you 'round.”

Jirou headed to the front entrance. Gran Torino moved to where she had just been sitting. He began to spread the papers inside that manila envelope across the table.

So that was the end of their conversation. Gran Torino had work to do. Jirou had an appointment to keep. There was no reason to stay any longer. Only thing to do now was go.

But right as she grabbed the door handle...

“And kid?”

She froze, and turned back just-enough to see Gran Torino in her peripheral vision.

“Yeah?”

He didn't make any effort to look at her, despite being the one to say more. He just grimaced.

“Don't let it get to you, okay?” His voice was softer. Gentler. “We've got time before things go South. Enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

She gulped, but kept her voice even as possible.

“Alright. I will.”

A few moments went by. Gran Torino didn't say anything else. Jirou pulled the door open, then stepped out and shut it behind her.

…

...

Phew.

Walking out that door and past those blockades was almost like stepping into another world. One with a clear sky, blinding sunlight, and nothing related to supervillains that could potentially murder everyone she knew and cared about.

A few people walked along the sidewalk. Their footsteps reverberated between the buildings. A car rolled by. The driver had on some sugary pop song that recently made it into the Oricon Singles Chart. No one seemed to notice the high school girl coming out of the sketchy building. No heavy atmosphere permeated the surrounding air. Everything was completely normal. Nothing out of the ordinary except maybe her if anyone was paying attention.

Without skipping a beat, she took to the sidewalk. She grabbed her phone and typed in a new address – one for the Kofu Showa Aeon Mall. It was gonna be a bit of a hike to get to the bus stop, but she had time to kill and it would do her some good to clear her head. And she'd probably make it to the bus in time. If not, the next one would arrive in half an hour. No biggie either way. Everything was gonna be fine.

After all, it wasn't like some crazed mass murderer was going to break out of prison and start slaughtering next week.

And it wasn't like Shigaraki and the Villain Alliance were gonna try and attack U.A. again for the umpteenth time tomorrow.

And it wasn't like All Might and Midoriya were going to be vulnerable and alone with no support of their own today.

And it wasn't like All Might was going to face his apparently inevitable demise within the next few hours.

And it wasn't like there was anything Jirou could do to prepare the future right this second anyway.

…

Huh.

…

Her lungs felt heavy.

…

She took a deep breath.

…

Pressure formed above her throat.

...

Her vision blurred.

…

An itch prickled in her eyes.

...

She blinked and rubbed it out.

...

Then looked down at her hands.

...

Sunlight bounced off the wetness left behind.

The two of them agreed to meet at the Mister Donut at the mall's west sakura entrance.

The signage made it easy enough to find from the east hotaru entrance. But even without it, the mall's layout wasn't very hard to navigate. Beyond a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure she still looked alright, she didn't make any pit stops on the way to her destination.

It only took a few minutes to get there, grab a coffee and donut, and find a seat that gave her a clear view of either shop entrance. And the only thing she had to do in the meantime was mess around on her phone. But she made a point to not look up anything related to the conversation she had not too long ago. The last thing she needed was to get wrapped up in researching crimes and conspiracy theories when she was supposed to be having fun.

She tapped a jack to to the table.

Her parents didn't have any GPS tracking on her phone, but she guessed if anyone was gonna track her down, that would be how. She'd considered leaving it back in her dorm for a time to make herself as untraceable as she could possibly get, but smacked that idea down quick. Putting aside the fact that she'd have to then buy maps for all the areas she'd be going to, she wouldn't be able to call anyone for help if she did get into trouble. And the last thing anyone needed was for her to go missing, U.A. student or not.

Maybe she should invest in a faraday bag. Then no one could track her with her phone since no signal could get in or out. And she could still get to it if she really needed to. But those things had to be ordered online. All packages to U.A. were screened; so whether it got shipped there or to here parents' house, she'd get questioned on why she would ever need one of those things. Nothing in her hero costume would warrant one, so she couldn't ask for one from the support department (and it wasn't like she could just swipe costume stuff for daily use as she pleased). Maybe Yaoyorozu could make one; but if she told anyone else about it, it would raise way more questions than she was comfortable with.

Not to mention she wouldn't be able to get any texts while her phone was inside, which could make people think she was in some kind of danger if they tried to contact her at the wrong time. Which would be even worse than just letting the government track her like they did everyone else or whatever.

Why was she even thinking about this? She probably wasn't going to go off campus alone again anytime before the holidays.

Sigh.

She opened the online floor guides for the Kofu Showa and Hamamatsu Shitoro Aeon Malls in two separate tabs. She was at the former, and the latter was the closest one to where she lived. Might as well compare them to keep her story straight. And see if there was anything interesting she hadn't gone to in awhile.

In the end, she was just using her friend as an alibi; but not even trying to hide it would be a real dick move. As far as anyone else knew she was just Kyouka Jirou: Regular high schooler out hanging with an absolutely ordinary friend on a completely uneventful Sunday afternoon. Nothing weird about her. Nothing weird about her plans. Absolutely no suspicious activity going on at all no sirree.

...

She hadn't expected to be fed taiyaki of all things. And now she had the crumbly remnants of a donut and a cup of coffee that was probably half sugar at this point. Probably should've considered that before getting what she normally did. She liked sweets as much as the next guy, but even this was a bit much. Plaque-y fuzz was already forming on her teeth. Blech.

She looked down at her phone. Ten more minutes until the time they were set to meet. So ten minutes until her friend would arrive. So ten minutes until she couldn't keep stewing even if she wanted to.

“Kyoukaaaaa!”

Or not.

Well, there she was. Coming right at her. No mistaking those rabbit ears and long white hair anywhere, though the hair clips were new. Jirou slapped on a beaming smile to greet her, and shoved her phone back in her bag.

“Hey Usa!”

Usa Yokugami. Quirk: Ear wings. She could expand and flap her ears to fly short distances. She was Jirou's classmate for their second and third year of middle school. Now she was going to Kofu Daiichi High School. She and Jirou were part of a fairly large friend group that made up a good portion of the girls in their year. And while they weren't particularly close themselves, pretty much everyone in it was on a first name basis with one another. So it wasn't that weird that they'd hang out together.

But dang. High school hit her with the puberty stick, that's for sure. And the blouse+skirt combo contrasted with Jirou's top and shorts. Not like it mattered, but it did make her feel a little underdressed.

Though Usa didn't seem to notice. Instead she began to fret.

“Oh my gosh! I thought I was gonna be the first one here. You weren't waiting too long, were you?”

Jirou chuckled and waved it off.

“Nah. I just got here a couple minutes ago, myself.”

Which was a lie, obviously, but Usa didn't have to know that. Though that was assuming she didn't immediately realize that as soon as she saw the coffee.

And it seemed she didn't, thankfully.

“So how come you came all the way out here, anyway? Is U.A. doing something here?” Usa scanned the area around them, probably looking for anyone else from her class.

Ha. If only.

“Nah, it's just me.” And she made damn well sure of that. “I just had to get off campus, y'know? And I figured 'hey, why not come here?'”

“Oh right. You guys gotta live at school now, huh. Sounds rough.” Usa nodded with understanding. No matter how much you liked your teachers and classmates, being cooped up with them 24/7 could get tiring. And thankfully she didn't think to press the issue; mostly she seemed happy to see an old friend for the first time since they graduated middle school.

“Yeah. But I don't have to commute anymore, so that's good.” And a 5 minute walk beat an hour commuting both ways any day of the week.

“Yeah I know that feeling. Moving here was the best thing I could've done!”

Mr. and Mrs. Yokugami were pretty overprotective, if Jirou remembered right. Not so much that Usa snapped or rebelled or anything, but enough that her newfound freedom took a load off her. Even in those first few minutes, anyone who knew her would be able to see how much more relaxed she was. Even though she was going to one of the best schools in the prefecture and entirely responsible for her own well-being now.

Jirou was gonna wait until the subject came up before even alluding to it, though. It probably wasn't a sore spot, but it wouldn't hurt to be careful.

“So how long's it take you to get to school?”

“Not even 20 minutes by bike! I don't need to take a train or a bus!” And considering how long commutes could get for some people, it's no wonder she was so happy.

“Nice! So you got your own apartment, right?” She knew the answer, but it was as good a lead-in as any.

“Yes I do! It's wonderful!” And she seemed pretty proud of herself for it. Good for her. And that wasn't sarcasm.

Usa changed the subject before Jirou could respond.

“Oh by the way- you're in the same class as Shouto Todoroki, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

Usa seemed to light up at that.

“Oo! Can you, like, get me an autograph?!”

Hoo boy.

“Maybe?” Jirou scratched her head. She didn't know how he'd react to being asked for one. He didn't seem like the type to revel in getting attention from fangirls. “Can't say I know him too well, though. Why, you need one?”

“Are you kidding? He's so cute!”

Jirou wondered how Todoroki would feel knowing he had fans already. Usa continued before she could make a remark about that.

“And his quirk is amazing! And he's got those dark brooding eyes like his dad, but they give him that adorable bad boy look and it's so hot! And cool.”

Jirou wondered how Todoroki would feel knowing he had a fans because of how much like Endeavor he was. He hadn't exactly been Captain Daddy Issues (what, with his weird choice in hero costume design and goal to use nothing but ice ever) since the sports festival, but he never had anything good to say about his father beyond the fact that he was an effective hero.

Ashido and Hagakure were the closest thing he had to fangirls in their class, though even they just remarked that he was the class pretty boy once in a while. And Jirou was well-aware that some of the kids in their class were well on their way to having fanbases of their own straight out of high school. Still, it was kinda weird to hear someone gush about a classmate in-person like this.

But regardless, Jirou chuckled at the pun; then steered the conversation in another direction without giving Usa a definite answer. Maybe she could do it if they got merch or sold pictures or something. But she wasn't sure how she would even breech the subject before they got that far.

So they talked a bit. Then Jirou grabbed her bag, got up, and downed the rest of her coffee. Then she tossed the empty cup and wrapper as they left the shop together.

The two of them spent the next few hours traversing the mall.

From Lashic to Wego to Axes Femme. From DHC to Wabi x Sabi to Minipla. The browsed the various different types of clothes and knickknacks the mall had to offer. The tried on different outfits. They checked out the new stuff they hadn't seen yet. They chatted about classes and life and the friends they'd made as freshmen at their respective schools.

Usa was doing pretty well. She'd found a solid group of friends among her class, and she'd joined the school orchestra. A few classmates were impressed that she knew someone that went to U.A., though Todoroki and Bakugou were the only two the hero geeks were keeping tabs on at the moment. Nothing too exciting ever really happened, but that was (thankfully) the norm for high schools. The juiciest gossip was that one of the seniors was dating an older guy. So nothing that bad.

Jirou was doing alright too. The hero course was pretty rough, but she got her provisional license as a first-year. She usually hung out with the other girls in her class, and had gotten closer with everyone overall since they were living together now. She was also a liiiiittle farther off-campus than she should be, so any mentioning her on social media was a no-go. Usa was a bit disappointed at that last part, but was thankfully understanding about it. It just meant that they wouldn't get to post silly selfies on Twitter or check in on Facebook.

The weekend bustle reverberated along the walls no matter where they went. Moms with their kids. Couples on dates. Groups of friends. Loners doing their own thing. There would always be a few people who radiated doom and gloom no matter where she went, but none of them were actually dangerous. No villains. No fighting. Just a peaceful day of people taking care of their business without a care in the world.

It was a nice distraction. She even bought something herself: A simple striped tanktop from Lovetoxic (since she was still committed to being cash-only in this prefecture). The Hamamatsu Shitoro Aeon Mall had that store too. And since she didn't take the receipt with her, she could rest easy on that too. Because there was nothing in that bag that would say she went anywhere outside the Shizuoka prefecture today.

Usa was having a ball. She didn't get to go out like this too often – most of the girls were focused on schoolwork and clubs right now. Which made sense since it was one of the best schools in the prefecture. So she was going a mile a minute and getting it all out of her system and loving it. It would be hard not to catch some of that giddiness.

Though the conversation would lull once in awhile. Maybe Usa'd be sifting through a clothes rack. Maybe Jirou'd be looking at tags. Whatever the reason, their responses would slow a bit as something else grabbed their attention. Which was totally normal! Can't be completely focused on one person 100% for hours on end, after all. And the conversation would naturally pick back up in a matter of minutes.

And she was thankful for that.

It kept the thoughts lurking in the back of her head down to a dull roar.

Nana Shimura was murdered over thirty years ago.

Her husband too.

Neither case was ever solved.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly Jirou dove back into her research after she and Usa parted ways. The latter had plans for dinner with her parents, so they couldn't stay together the whole day. Which was fine with Jirou, because she had to get back to her folks too; and it would make more sense to go home while they were still awake.

Usa had asked her if she wanted to walk to the station together. Jirou appreciated the offer, but told her she should be fine; Usa's bus was in the complete opposite direction anyway. And though she didn't say it, even as a U.A. student all by her lonesome, Jirou could probably handle herself seeing as how a) she highly doubted anyone would've followed her this far for this long without attacking her by now, b) even though she'd been on screen during the sports festival, she was still pretty much unknown as far as U.A. hero students went, c) she wasn't gonna be going anywhere sketchy, and d) she wasn't even wearing her uniform.

Though maybe she should've taken her up on it. Even without the danger, hanging around other people was still the most effective distraction she'd found. It didn't help that Jirou had nothing else to do while she waited for her train. She was still 'hanging out with her parents', so she wasn't going to be the first to text anyone from school. And she wasn't going to 'utilize social media' for the same reason. And it would just be rude to start bugging Usa again right after they just said goodbye. And Lurkers was moving at a snail's pace; obviously there was the usual rumors and theorizing, but the weekend itself had been pretty uneventful altogether.

Might as well start looking up random cat videos at this point.

...

The husband's obituary said he was survived by his wife and son.

But Shigaraki was way too young to be her son given the dates.

So was he her grandson? Nephew? Long-lost relative twice-removed?

Something else entirely?

Did Midoriya know?

Did anyone else know?

What was she even supposed to say? Midoriya had never met Shimura for obvious reasons. His only encounters with Shigaraki were as enemies. Jirou had no actual proof the two of them had any connection beyond surnames and putting two and two together. For all she knew, she could just be seeing things that weren't even there.

…

She closed the app as her train rolled in. There weren't too many people on it, thankfully, so she was able to quickly grab a window seat.

...

Hanging out with Usa made her feel a lot better, but companionship only worked as a distraction when the person in question was actually there. Which meant she'd have to make a conscious effort to lighten her thoughts on her own. Her parents would notice if something was wrong. Jirou was able to read people really well, but her folks made that ability look like child's play. Her mom was the one who could do it with her quirk (which is where Jirou got it from). Her dad just had one of the most scarily accurate gut instincts she'd ever seen. They'd probably notice something was off regardless of what she did, but she could at least minimize it enough that they wouldn't worry too much.

She put on one of her more upbeat playlists. She tapped a finger to her thigh on beat. She stuffed her head full of happy thoughts: like finally having her provisional license, getting a good grade on her last English test, and getting to check out that Aeon Mall with a friend she hadn't seen in forever.

She was all caught up with her homework, so she was free to relax as she pleased. It wasn't going to be too late when she got home, so she and her parents could hang out and have a jam session. Or maybe they could fill her in on what new plans they'd made for their next album. Or they could even just pop in a movie and relax with snacks without saying much of anything!

There was still a few hours left in the day. Her worries could go piss off in the meantime. This conspiracy wasn't going anywhere. All Might wasn't going anywhere. Midoriya was fine. Everything was fine. There was pretty much no chance the Villain Alliance would make another attack before the end of the year. Maybe not even until they all graduated!

So why waste time thinking about it when she could be happy?

She cleared out her head and slapped a big goofy smile on her face. The buildings and trees passing by sure were interesting weren't they. Almost as interesting as all those different things she and Usa browsed in all those different shops! And all those things they talked about too! They were great! This day was great!

…

Who was she kidding.

It wasn't too late when the train reached her hometown station.

She got off the train in no particular hurry. The machine ate her ticket as she passed through the gate. The Lovetoxic bag with her new shirt dangled from her fingers. The bag with all her other stuff hung from the opposite shoulder.

Her house was within walking distance. It wasn't too late for another detour, so she stopped for an espresso macchiato at the Starbucks a few blocks away. Then chugged it for some extra energy. Then tossed the evidence at the store itself. Then mentally kicked herself for pretty much dooming her sleep schedule for that night.

She was drained, but no one needed to know that. Her parents wouldn't mind (and they'd see right through her anyway), but she didn't want to give them any reason to worry too much. Her emotions leveled out a while ago, but she still wasn't in the mindset of someone who just spent the whole day relaxing without a care in the world. Best to make it look like she was just tired from walking and chattering away all day with her friends.

The Donki a few blocks down from her house had some supplies she needed to get, so she swung by on the way. Not that she couldn't get them later, but it made sense to get it over with while the idea was fresh in her mind. And while she was still alone. And while she had a window of plausible deniability where there was no chance of anyone asking why she needed what she did.

The sun had just about set when she got home. Some of the lights were on already. It felt like she'd just come home from school on a normal day. She let her body run on autopilot like it used to every day. Punched in the key code for the gate outside. Hear it click open. Close it behind her. See if the front door is unlocked. Go straight inside instead of fishing for her keys since it was.

She kicked off her shoes in the entryway, then looked around for a pair of slippers before remembering that was a home habit she picked up in the dorms. Socks were fine. She stepped onto the wooden floor. It creaked softly under her feet.

She glanced at her phone. It was half past 19:00.

It wouldn't be too long before Mom-

“Honey! Kyouka's home!”

Jirou was all but tackled by her parents in a matter of seconds.

They had a knack for getting her just hard-enough to make her feel it without knocking her over, and those first few months at U.A. hadn't made her any more immune. Jirou returned the favor. Obviously they didn't do it very often when she still lived at home, but now was enough of an event to warrant it, she guessed.

They pulled back after a few moments. Dad was the first to say something after they exchanged their normal greetings:

“All right, Kyouka. Show us that license!”

Straight and to the point. And Jirou was only too happy to oblige. She grabbed her wallet out of her bag and hung it open.

“Right here!”

“Atta girl!”

She and Dad high-fived. Mom made a comment on how fast their little girl was growing up. Dad sprung off that how it felt like only yesterday that she was a little kid with a yellow hat and randoseru afraid of walking together with the other elementary schoolers for the first time. Jirou let out an exaggerated groan, and reminded Dad that he cried twice as much as she did that day. They had some back-and-forth banter, but it was all playful teasing. Really, they were all just happy to see each other again.

The three of them moved to the living room. Mom asked if there was anything she wanted for dinner. Jirou was fine with whatever. They settled on pizza, and talked about what had been going on while she was away as they waited for the delivery guy. The new semester was pretty rough so far, but she was still getting along great with everyone. Mom and Dad were still composing and making music. They were making steady progress on their latest album. Dad lamented about them being empty nesters already. Jirou made a joke about him getting old. They all had a laugh at that.

Mom flipped on the news. Jirou took the chance to check her phone. Thankfully no one had texted her to ask why she never showed up to at Yaoyorozu's study party, which meant either Iida or Mineta (or Kaminari) had told them. Nor had anyone texted here about being in Yamanashi (not that she expected it). No one had texted her at all, which at least meant nothing had happened on campus while she was gone.

So she should take the chance and just relax.

A couple hours and a jam session later it was time to hit the hay. It was kinda weird how quiet taking a bath was now. She almost expected one of the other girls to start chatting next to her. Instead it was just her, herself, and a rubber ducky Dad had gotten as a souvenir overseas. Ah well. At least she had the tub all to herself.

All her stuff had been moved to U.A., which made her room look pretty barren. There was still a few instruments left, a nightstand, some posters, and her old bed was where it always was, but that was about it. Which was fine, really. She doubted that she'd be coming back again any time soon. Though there was enough stuff left behind that she'd be covered for holiday visits and the like.

Her bag was by her bed, and her phone was charging inside it. The sky was dark. The moon was shining. The house was quiet. Jirou threw on an old pair of pajamas she didn't bother to bring with her to school.

And though she should probably try and sleep (caffeine or not), she couldn't go to bed just yet.

Instead she pulled a thin notebook out of the Lovetoxic bag she'd slipped it in. The donki she stopped at before had a few, and she figured it'd be her best option. She didn't have anything on her to write in at the time besides her phone, and her phone was probably the worst store anything she couldn't have anyone find out.

If she had an embarrassing secret or something and someone looked at her phone, it'd suck for sure; but it wouldn't be the end of the world. This would be. Even if it would look more like a twelve-year-old's shitty fanfic than actual facts, she couldn't risk someone that could actually put two and two together being able to read it – even if that chance was one in a million.

But though she liked to think she was decently smart in her own right, there was no way she could keep all this information in her head alone forever. Even Yaoyorozu would have a tough time with it on a long-term basis. Jirou had no idea what would be happening and when. And she didn't know when or if she'd ever be an active part of this conspiracy. But if she didn't want to be completely blindsided, she'd have to record every last detail she could.

She fished a pencil out of her bag and opened up the notebook. She laid face-down on her bed and set the notebook in front of her.

The first page would probably have to have some kind of 'abandon hope all ye who enter'-type message. The other side too. So she flipped to the next page, and began tapping out lines of dots and dashes.

People who know about Midoriya's quirk:

-Midoriya

-All Might

-Recovery Girl

-Principal

-Detective Tsukauchi

-Gran Torino

-Sir Nighteye

-All for One

-Bakugou(?)

-Togata-senpai(?)

-Midoriya's Parents(?)

-Other police(?)

-Shigaraki(?)

She surrounded those words with other lines, and connected some of the dots with faint pencil marks – light-enough that she herself could still clearly see the message underneath. The result was a psychedelic-looking zombie marching to the right with some bullshit forest of fish and triangles behind it. Not the best thing she'd ever drawn by any means, but it definitely did the job of making the information look like nothing more than a doodle by an artsy teen.

And that was probably the best way to hide information in plain sight: No one in their right mind would go through a teenage girl's sketchbook expecting to find those kinds of secrets. And even if they did, they probably couldn't read Morse and wouldn't even see it unless they were specifically looking for it.

Her parents weren't the type to look through her stuff (and wouldn't be able to see it even if they were since she lived in the dorms now). And Kaminari wouldn't be able to get to it since since she wasn't planning on taking it out of her dorm (which the boys wouldn't have access to unless she specifically let them in); and she wasn't planning on telling him about it in the first place. And the three of them were the only ones who could possibly find out.

Anyone else? Not a chance. Even if someone somehow came across it, they'd probably just think it was her 'secret sketchbook' or something. Which Jirou would happily play along with. Because now was definitely not the time to make people start panicking.

She wrote the date under the picture in normal numbers, then turned to the next page and kept going.

Midoriya's quirk is called One for All. Strength quirk. Passed from person to person. The goal is to eventually defeat All for One.

All Might can't use One for All anymore. Used what was left in Kamino. Other quirk unknown, but probably useless. Predicted to die sometime between now and the end of next year. Predicted by Sir Nighteye. Sir Nighteye has never been wrong. Will be a villain that does it. No information on that villain yet. Only that it won't be All for One. Need more information to stop it.

And she didn't even know if she had a chance of stopping it.

It was weird thinking like that. Moving on.

It was time to write about people in particular.

Nana Shimura: Probably All Might's predecessor. If so, previously wielded One for All. Was murdered over 30 years ago. Husband was murdered not long before. Had a son. Status of son unknown.

Sir Nighteye: All Might's former sidekick. Quirk lets him see the future. Has never been wrong. Contact him after telling Midoriya and All Might what I know. Get more information.

Gran Torino: Midoriya's field training teacher and Shimura's friend. Knows everything related to One for All. Told me All Might would die. Did not tell me about the potential connection between Shigaraki and Shimura. Address: 400-XXXX Yamanashi-ken, Darlo-ku, Dagobah-chou 8 Choume, 9-6. Phone number 055-XXX-5249

Tomura Shigaraki: Bad guy. All for One's Successor. Likely leading the Villain Alliance now. Potential relative of Nana Shimura. Relationship unknown. Real name: Tenko Shimura

She wrote down the kanji in Shimura and Shigaraki's names in different areas of the page, then drew a few lines to connect so she knew which went with which. When she was done, she went back to tap out one more line.

All for One: Immortal. The guy All Might beat in Kamino. Knows Midoriya is the successor. Will likely escape Tartarus after All Might dies. Midoriya has to defeat him when that happens.

And she'd have to do what she could to help him when that happened.

They'd all have to help him when that happened.

She just hoped they wouldn't still be freshmen at that point.

…

She drew over the text again before she could get distracted by her own thoughts again. The picture this time was a bazaar. The kanji were on the signs of various stalls. The dots and dashes were on everything else. It was a little harder to make out the words, but she'd manage. And she could always redraw it if she really had to.

She wrote the date at the bottom of that page too. Knowing when she recorded the info could be useful if she wanted to reference it.

Actually...

She tapped out another few sentences at the bottom of that page, hidden within the cobblestones:

Midoriya doesn't know I know at all yet. Only Gran Torino does. I have to tell him and All Might I know as soon as possible. But I can't tell him All for One knows he's the successor just yet or anything else he doesn't already know. It's All Might's job to do that.

After she told Midoriya, she'd need to keep a tally on who else would know she knew. Obviously there was no one in class but Midoriya (and possibly Bakugou) who knew about One for All and the whole successor thing, but there was a chance that some school staff were in on it now too (besides Recovery Girl and the Principal, of course).

She closed the notebook, slipped it inside the shirt she bought, and stuffed both in her bag.

Then let her face fall onto her pillow with a 'fwump'.

And groaned.

aaaaaaaa

...

Maybe if she had an actual deadline she could make a real plan.

Was there any way to gauge how strong All Might still was? Even without his strength quirk, it stood to reason that he could still probably take out most everyone at U.A. with a couple hits. He didn't break his arms like Midoriya, so that meant his body had to be strong-enough to handle the One for All at it's full power, right? But how long would that last now that he was retired? How much more would his old injuries eat away at him? What would he have a tough time facing now? What would he have a tough time facing in a year ? How strong would a villain have to be to actually kill him?

Would he be alone? Would there be heroes too weak to stop it? Would it happen too quickly for anyone to react?

The only thing she could really guess is that this villain wouldn't be as strong as All for One. And as far as she knew, there weren't any others as strong as Endeavor. Which meant that villain could be defeated with the right set of heroes.

Jirou knew she herself wouldn't be anywhere near as strong as All Might next year unless his health really took a turn for the worst, but there were ways to cut corners when trying to get stronger.

Focusing on nothing what you're good at would improve those specific areas way faster.

Jirou was good with her jacks and shockwaves.

She could really do some damage in the future if her potential was anything like Present Mic's.

But becoming an expert at those so quickly would mean she'd suck at everything else. She'd just be a glass cannon.

Which would be worse than just going at a normal pace if she couldn't help All Might and All for One broke out some time after she graduated. Because she'd still be useless at CQC and would only be able to take a couple hits before going down.

And she didn't want anyone else dying just because they had to save her.

...

There was a knock on the door.

“Kyouka?”

The voice was unmistakably her mom's.

Huh. Usually she'd be downstairs practicing or jotting down ideas or something about now.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. You're fine.” She didn't have anything out in the open. She sat up and swung her legs off the bed.

The door creaked open. Mom stepped inside. She smiled softly.

“Hi, Honey.”

Jirou did the same.

“Hey Mom.” She tilted her head a little. “What's up?”

“Got everything squared away?”

“Yep.”

Mom looked her over for a second.

“Is everything alright at school?”

Dammit, Mom.

There was enough sound insulation in the bedrooms that they couldn't hear each other through the walls without the other side making a real effort. Her parents made sure of that. Which meant there was no way that Mom was able to hear what she did in her notebook. Which meant that the concern in her voice must have been caused by something Jirou did earlier.

She thought she stayed perfectly in-character for the past few hours. She even managed to keep her mind off the conspiracy (for the most part). Like sure, she was tired; but she hadn't stewed at all. She swatted those thoughts away every time they bubbled up. Whether by talking or thinking up guitar riffs or focusing just a little too hard on the TV when something interesting popped up.

She should've known Mom would hear the subconscious cues regardless.

But she waved her hand and nodded.

“Oh yeah, everything's fine.”

“You don't sound fine.”

Oh come on.

It wasn't that she didn't trust her parents – Jirou could trust them more with a secret than anyone. But it wouldn't be fair to tell them where else she went today. How she went to a stranger's house in secret and lied to everyone about it. How she was in an entirely different prefecture from where she said she'd be. How she learned things about the Symbol of Peace that only a select few were supposed to know.

Putting aside the fact that she would have to unload everything on them all at once for them to have even an clue of what she was talking about, there was nothing they could do about it either. Okay so the guy All Might beat in Kamino's breaking out. Okay so he's so strong he swatted away Endeavor like he was nothing. Okay, so All Might himself isn't even going to live long-enough to see that happen. Gee, how could that possibly make things go to shit and ruin the livelyhoods of people they cared about?

Mom and Dad already had a suitcase each with the bare essentials for when they needed to travel in a hurry. It was never anything so sudden they had to have it ahead of time, but the prep always made things easier. And if Jirou kept her mouth shut and played her cards right, they never would need them for real. Because loved ones were always a potential target when you pissed off the wrong people. And said wrong people were ones she hopefully would never have to face.

She took a deep breath, and unclenched her fist. How long had it been like that, anyway?

“It's just... A friend of mine is going through some rough times right now. I wish I could help them.”

Keep it truthful. Keep it vague. Mom didn't use her quirk for combat, but when it came to reading emotions she blew Jirou out of the water. And Jirou knew she herself would be giving off bad vibes as it was. She'd have to be careful if she was gonna make sure Mom wouldn't be hinted the actual gravity of the situation. Good thing she was a teenager with hormones she could blame all the weirdness on.

“Have you tried talking with them about it?”

Hah. She wished.

“Not yet.” But she remembered what Gran Torino said. Sooner was better than later. She should just get it over with.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Mom asked. 'With me' sat at the end of her tongue.

“Nah. It's not something I should even know.” And it definitely wasn't something she should be talking about with anyone not already in the loop. “And it's nothing I can do anything about at the moment, anyway.”

She already knew that her mom would be able to tell something was wrong. She was just glad her mom was hand-off-enough that she wasn't gonna try and meddle. There was no immediate danger, after all. All Might was still on the U.A. campus. And even teachers often used the buddy system now when they left. The Villain Alliance weren't dumb-enough to attack the school directly (yet).

“I understand.” Though there was still concern in her voice. But nothing about it or anything else suggested she heard what Jirou just tapped out, or that she had sensed just how bad things were. “But you can tell me if you feel overwhelmed. I'll always be here.”

“I know.” And she appreciated it. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You're welcome. Good night, sweetie.”

“Good night, Mom.”

Mom shut the door. Jirou was left alone.

She sighed.

She should go to sleep.

She had school tomorrow.

But she was still in the tail end of her caffeine buzz.

So it would be a while before she'd be able to nod off.

But what was there to even do in the meantime?

Mom and Dad were going to bed too. And even with the sound damping, Mom would be able to hear her if she went downstairs.

She looked at her bag. Then grabbed her phone out of it.

No new messages. That was fine. Everyone else was getting ready to snooze too. Probably.

She suppressed the urge to go back to hunting for information. As far as she knew, she had found everything related to this that was publicly available. Maybe if she could think of something she would, but for now it was just a matter of just... waiting. Because it wasn't like there was some villain registry high school students could access on a whim at god-knows-when in the morning when they had nothing better to do.

...

There was watching Youtube videos, but doing that this late would probably keep her up the rest of the night.

So music it was.

She plugged in her jacks and scrolled through her music choices, eventually deciding on Sejd's first album. Hopefully that would be long enough.

One deep breath. Then two.

Clear mind.

No thoughts.

Just sleep.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

It had only been a few weeks since she'd moved into the dorms, but it was weird how unfamiliar her room at home had become.

She woke up expecting the ambient sounds of 19 other kids her age. Instead she got nothing but the faintest traces of two adults. Even though Mom and Dad slept in the room next to her, she could never hear them. Thankfully they took the extra soundproofing precaution when it came to the bedrooms when they first bought the house.

Roll out of bed. Get up. Get dressed. Throw pajamas in the hamper. Go downstairs. Get breakfast. Her morning routine hadn't really changed since she got to U.A.. The only major difference was that she had her own hamper at school. And that she had some extra time to sleep in. And no train commute. Really, beyond having to do her own chores now, she was living the high school dream.

Dad was already up, like usual. He grinned and raised his mug with a “Mornin', sunshine.” as she entered the kitchen. Then went back to reading the news on his tablet. Mom was more of a night owl (which Jirou took after), so she usually slept in a bit.

Jirou grabbed a bowl and a pair of chopsticks and spooned some rice out of the cooker, then cracked an egg over it. Dad grabbed her a cup of coffee as she stirred her breakfast up. They both took their coffee the same, which hadn't changed since she moved into the dorms. The commute was why she started drinking it in the first place. Now it was just a force of habit.

She mentioned that she'd be leaving a little early so she could stop by the dorm before class, but otherwise didn't say much. Dad didn't try and start any conversation either, though he did glance at her once in awhile. They both talked up a storm last night. Nothing wrong with just enjoying the morning peace in silence. That tranquility was one of the few things she couldn't get during daily U.A. life. She'd be lying if she said she didn't miss it.

Mom came down to see her off just as she was about to leave. Jirou got a big hug from both her and Dad, and then headed out the door waving goodbye.

She normally would've taken the train after the one she boarded at the station, but she had to get back to her dorm and change into her uniform. She wore the shirt she bought yesterday with a pair of capris and carried the notebook in her bag.

She got a few curious glances – probably because of how she as a teenager was dressed on a school day, but no one asked any questions. No one seemed to recognize her either; and even if they did, the whole 'U.A. is a boarding school now' thing meant that the students that went there wouldn't (in theory) ever commute there unless it was a special occasion. Well, that and the fact she wasn't on her normal train too. The regulars she always rode in the same car with might have noticed if she was.

It felt a little lonely making the trek back. Nowadays she always went together to and from class with at least a few other kids. Contrast that with the relative silence of a rush hour train: No one to chat with, nothing to listen to outside her phone – and she had to stay in it for almost an hour. And there was nothing else to do but go straight to the school after she reached the station unless she wanted to get a snack. Thank god for unlimited data plans.

There wasn't any fanfare as she got back to campus and went through the front gate. The sensors inside it read her ID and that was that. Maybe if she did this a few weeks ago, she would've run into one of the last straggling reporters itching for the scoop on U.A.'s new boarding system; but it seemed they finally gave up after barely anyone entered or left anymore.

A few kids were already outside; some taking walks, some jogging, and some just getting a breath of fresh air. Jirou passed them as she made a beeline for the Class 1-A dorm building. She gave a small nod to a few she recognized, but no one else paid her any mind.

She took a quick sweep as she walked into her class building. Some of the guys usually got up early to exercise before class, so a few people missing made sense. She said hi to everyone on the first floor. Ashido told her she really missed out on Yaoyorozu's study session. Jirou said she'd go next time. Iida welcomed her back and asked how she was doing. She said she was feeling pretty good. Hagakure asked if she'd finished “that thing with her parents” (looks like Kaminari or Mineta spilled the beans – thanks, guys). Jirou said it was all taken care of.

Buuuut as much as she'd like to stay for awhile and keep chatting, she had to get in her uniform. Some of the others were wearing theirs. She'd already eaten, so she might as well get hers too. So she headed up the elevator and into her dorm. The first order of business was to get her notebook somewhere safe. It was a bit awkwardly bent when she removed it from her bag, but it was easy enough to straighten out. And it wasn't like it was going to affect the contents inside.

She threw it in a record sleeve: No One Can Ever Know by The Twilight Sad. A bit on the nose, but at least there was enough of a connection so she wouldn't forget where it was. Too bad she was the only one who would find any humor in it.

A phone could be hacked or stolen easily, but she doubted anyone would go after her vinyls. It wasn't likely that anyone else on campus had anything that could even play them. And most of them weren't anything valuable that a potential thief would think they could pawn off for a good chunk of change. It was another layer of security, and probably the best she could do short of hiding it under the floorboards.

The sleeve went back on the shelf. She took off her casual clothes and threw on her uniform, then headed back down the elevator and left for the main building together with everyone else. She chatted with the other girls. It was like she'd never left in the first place. Time ticked by until it was time to go to class. Then everyone still in the dorm building headed out.

It was just another day.

The scuffs Bakugou and Todoroki had from their training were the first things anyone mentioned.

Ashido led the charge with commenting on Bakugou's appearance. Kaminari piped in that Todoroki wasn't any better. And yep, that provisional training really roughed him up too, didn't it. Jirou could safely say she didn't envy either of them there. Kinda weird seeing scrapes and bruises this early in the morning. People would usually take a quick trip to Recovery Girl and get it taken care of ASAP instead of letting them heal naturally.

Iida didn't know where Uraraka and Tsuyu were, but it looked like they at least told Yaoyorozu. The two of them hadn't been in the dorm building when Jirou got back. But no one else was worried, so she didn't think too much of it herself. Probably meant their excused absence was them doing an internship too.

Huh. Kirishima was a no-show too. He was one of the guys who would sometimes jog in the morning, so him not being in the dorm wasn't actually that weird either. Though the fact that Iida didn't mention him probably meant that Kirishima told him ahead of time.

Which was fine! He wasn't the one Jirou was worried about, anyway. Because... Well...

Midoriya looked like hell, to put it lightly.

He wasn't injured or anything, but Jirou knew full well that wasn't the only type of pain that existed. He was hunched over his desk, staring down. But there wasn't anything there for him to focus on. His heart rate was elevated. His breathing was slightly heavier. The palpable anxiety emanating from him eclipsed anything else in the room as far as Jirou was concerned.

And it was more than a little tempting to go over and ask just what the hell happened.

A few of the other kids seemed to notice this, though maybe not the complete inner turmoil part. Mineta and Ashido in particular peppered him with questions about his internship as cheerily as she'd ever seen them. Though they decided it would probably be best to leave him alone after they realized he was giving the same apathetic groan of a response each time. They probably thought internships really were that exhausting. Jirou knew better, but she wasn't going to correct them.

After all, it's not like there was anything she could do for him either.

All she could do was work on herself.

Which meant getting stronger.

That was her goal for now.

She was one of the weakest in class when she got to U.A.. The only people she did better than in the initial evaluation were Hagakure, Mineta, and Midoriya, the latter of which had long since made it to the upper ranks of the class in terms of power. Sure, that was because said test was biased in favor of those who could use their quirks to augment their physical strength, but that wasn't an excuse when others like Ojiro and Ashido managed to score well even while barely able to use theirs.

Was she jealous? A little. But it didn't matter how she compared to her classmates as much as it did actual villains. If nothing else, she wanted to be confident she could take those thugs she, Yaoyorozu, and Kaminari faced back at USJ on her own. They were the type she'd probably have to face if she encountered any during her next bout of field training. And she had to be at least as strong as them before she could even think of taking on villains with any level of notoriety.

U.A. had a gym – multiple gyms, actually. During free training she usually just went with cardio on one of the treadmills and chatted with whoever was next to her. Or she chilled on her phone while do the bare minimum of work on one of the weight machines no one ever used. Lazy, but it was an easy time-waster and she didn't exactly have excess stores of energy like some of her classmates.

But she couldn't afford to waste time like that anymore.

She was weak. She knew she was weak. Hatsume's gadgets and the other tech built into her costume helped with that, but earthquakes and shock waves alone wouldn't be much help if whoever she was fighting could get in close-enough for hand-to-hand combat. Her jacks couldn't do much beyond pierce, stretch, and channel her heartbeat; and Togata-senpai showed her just how easy it would be to use them against her if her opponent was way stronger than her. And she needed to cover as many of her bases as she could before villains attacked U.A. again (if they attacked again; best not to jinx it).

But man, where to even start?

She wasn't Midoriya. She didn't have a teacher she could go to for special one-on-one training. If she were to choose someone, it would probably be Present Mic just because of the similarity in their quirks. But she wouldn't even know what ask beyond how to better train her sound output. And said sound output was probably fine for what it was – she needed to increase her other physical capabilities in order to make the best use of it.

Her lobes were an obvious choice to work on. She didn't know how much weight she could carry, or how much force it would take to tear them (since she rarely bothered with more than small weights). They were thin and nowhere near as strong as Tsuyu's tongue, but said tongue was probably the best idea of what her lobes could do should they reach their max potential. Whipping her jacks without any sound behind it was an alright attack against little things like drones, but it wasn't anything she could reasonably use against actual villains one-on-one yet.

But other than that, she wasn't sure what to even do for actual attacks. Maybe learn some martial arts? She'd have to ask someone if she decided to go that route. She knew there was a judo club, though it was populated almost entirely by Gen Ed kids – not that there was anything wrong with being one; but she knew that most, of not all, of them wanted to get in the hero course eventually. And trying to join them would probably make things more than a tad awkward.

Then again, her feelings were nothing compared to the ever-looming threat of whatever Midoriya was going to face in the future. All for One was going to break out of prison. He knew Midoriya had One for All. And there was no way that Midoriya would be strong-enough to take him by the end of the year. She wasn't even sure he'd be able to use all of One for All's power by the time they graduated.

But if there was any way she could even give him even slightly better odds, she had to do it.

Because, well, there was an actual chance she could help him.

The more she thought about that conversation with Gran Torino, the more insane a task she realized helping All Might would be. There was only about a year and a half left tops. Jirou was not going to be at the level of an experienced pro hero in a year and a half. She had no leads on who this villain could potentially be. She had no leads on where it could happen. In all likelihood, she wasn't even gonna be anywhere near All Might when he'd have that encounter. And she obviously couldn't try and avoid that by puppy-guarding him 24/7. And even if she did: If Sir Nighteye really wasn't ever wrong, what if that was what would get All Might killed?

Sure, she'd still keep her ears open. And sure, she'd keep researching if she found any new leads. But with nothing else to truly go off, everything she did would just be another shot in the dark.

There weren't any downsides to getting stronger, so obviously that was the way to go right now since she didn't exactly have a plan to work with. And she couldn't just make one of her own. She wasn't a strategist. Information gathering? Obviously her thing. But actually using that information? She'd only just started working on that when she came to U.A.. And even then, she'd been coasting and letting other people do the thinking for her during team exercises.

If it were up to Jirou, the first thing to do would be to tell people who had an actual chance of stopping it. Endeavor, Hawks, the other staff at U.A. not already in the know – making some kind of large-scale announcement would obviously cause mass panic, but letting a select few heavy-hitters know about Sir Nighteye's prediction would increase the odds would be able to figure out who or what was supposed to take All Might out. Then they could do something to actually stop it.

But All Might hadn't told anyone outside his circle for a reason. Jirou didn't know what that reason was, but a man who'd been doing heroics longer than she'd been alive would probably be a better judge of when and whom to tell extra-sensitive information like that to. So glaring logistical issues of a high schooler trying to lead experienced professionals into potentially mortal combat aside, that meant no telling Aizawa-sensei to be ready for Japan's greatest supervillain to break out of Tartarus. And no asking Destegoro about any possibility to get a hero bodyguard specifically for one person. And no telling any other heroes that it would probably be a good idea to be on extra-high alert wherever All Might was for the next year and a half.

Which didn't exactly leave her with many options.

Gran Torino, Sir Nighteye, and every other adult in the know seemed to think All Might getting killed was inevitable. And Jirou doubted she'd be able to come up with a plan any of them would be willing to follow. If Midoriya knew too (or found out soon; hopefully), he'd obviously want to stop it too, which made it two kids versus a foresight quirk that had never once been wrong ever. If Bakugou was in the know too, that would make three of them.

Three kids.

In high school.

With nothing but provisional hero licenses.

Had to come up with a plan to stop a villain from killing Japan's former number one hero.

Because otherwise, a villain was going to kill Japan's former number one hero.

And just... she wasn't any kind of math whiz and there weren't even numbers to calculate, but god dammit those odds were terrible.

Other heroes didn't know what was going to happen, so just relying on them and hoping for the best wasn't going to work. Changing the future required knowing about it in the first place. That meant the only people who could do that were people in the know.

She wasn't even an optimist, but what choice did they have?-

Dee dee-dee dee deeeee...

Jirou's phone alarm sounded snapped her back into reality.

She'd set it to 18:15. 19:00 was the latest clubs could stay, so heading out a little earlier would let her avoid running into anyone else for the most part. And the people she would see wouldn't be anyone she knew; and she doubted they would stop her to ask any questions. Maybe she'd run into a teacher, but it wasn't against the rules for U.A. students to use the gyms of their own volition after class. It's just that most didn't bother since only the hero kids needed exercise and they got more than enough of that during class.

She stopped the treadmill and hopped off. Then took a big swig of water and a few deep breaths to clear her head. Her legs already felt like jelly even after just an extra two hours of on-and-off running. Her clothes were damp from all the sweat. She didn't even wanna think about how it would feel as she did it with other exercises. Especially the ones that dealt with upper body strength. Looks like here noodle arms were gonna come back to bite her.

There were a few bots that worked for the basics in combat. Some for hand-to-hand. Others for various weapons. And they were made of much stronger stuff than the robots in the entrance exam or sports fest 5k, so she doubted she'd be able to destroy them even if she wanted to. Maybe she's take one on on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday would probably be open too. Though all three in a row might be a little much.

She stopped in the locker room for a quick shower and blow dry. She wasn't sure when the janitors or whoever washed their non-hero gym uniforms, but she'd know if hers still smelled funky tomorrow.

And speaking of tomorrow: she wasn't sure what she was gonna do about that. Tuesday's last class was P.E., which meant leaving the locker room to go back to the dorm together with other girls. She felt bad enough that this arrangement meant she would always make a beeline for the gym instead of walking back with Yaoyorozu like she had been (though she was glad Yaoyorozu was nice enough to accept “hey Yaomomo I got something to take care of go on without me” as a reason without questioning it). But the girls always made the journey from gym to dorm as a collective. And they always waited if someone needed to take a few extra minutes. Ashido and Hagakure would probably grill her if she tried to ditch it with some lame excuse.

It wasn't like Jirou wanted to do this whole training thing alone or anything. Exercising by herself sucked. But she wasn't going to be the one to ask anyone to stay with her. If she managed to stick to the plan, she'd be staying after school every day for hours. And on top of that, she wasn't one of the kids who usually went off to do their own thing. Normally she just went home and hung out with the others. Now she was staying late by herself alone.

It shouldn't be too alarming as long as she stayed normal otherwise, right? Shouldn't be too hard to just socialize like she had been with the time she had left. And if anyone asked, she was going to try for an internship next year and she wanted to prepare in advance. Because man, the intern crew had guts to do that as freshmen.

...Which was pretty flimsy reasoning, all things considered. But it's not like they had any reason to doubt her. If someone pressed, though, she could always say she saw a hero-vs-villain showdown and it made her realize how much catching up she had to do. She'd have to look for any incidents that happened in her hometown and choose from them then. And she'd have to come up with an excuse for why she was there to witness it in the first place. And one for why she wasn't in any of the photographs or videos. Even though she reeeeally doubted they'd treat the conversation like a cross examination, she knew better than to leave any of her bases uncovered.

Man, fake alibis were hard work.

But the only alternatives were being cagey about information (bad idea) or telling them the truth (even worse idea). She was from Shizuoka. She'd spent most of the day in Yamanashi. Talking about Gran Torino was off-limits for obvious reasons. Hanging out with Usa would seem like a safe subject at first glance, but Jirou would have no way of limiting the details of their meeting should the stars align and Usa somehow find herself talking to someone from Class A.

Actually, she should probably make sure Usa wouldn't tell anyone that they met at all. Not that Jirou didn't like hanging out with her – but information had it's own way of making its way down the weirdest grape vines. Strangers didn't recognize her when she wasn't in her school uniform (and even when she was, they only saw her as some random kid from U.A.), but all it would take was one person saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to blow her cover story into tiny smithereens.

Not that she should even have to plan for the possibility of someone looking through her texts and asking about a random friend from middle school.

Or any of her classmates meeting a girl living in another prefecture who wasn't even going to be a hero.

Or anyone pressing her that hard to begin with.

…

Anyway, people would probably think Jirou doing something like 'super secret solo training' would be weird and maybe even funny, but it shouldn't raise any red flags on its own. Writing down everything in her notebook helped her shove those thoughts to the back of her mind, so she probably wasn't acting any different than normal (and she'd been paying a lot of attention to what she was doing and why). So if anyone saw or found out, they'd probably just think of it as her trying to do some self-improvement.

Heck, maybe they'd be inspired to work out more after school too. And in a perfect world, everyone else in her class would follow her lead too (minus the feeling of impending doom, of course). They were all getting stronger at a steady rate, but doing even more couldn't hurt, right? Especially when their class of freshmen had somehow encountered actual villains. Twice.

Obviously Jirou alone wouldn't be much help against the Villain Alliance right how. She was just one person, and she wasn't particularly talented (compared to everyone else in the hero program, at least). But any amount of assistance was better than no assistance. Nineteen kids together were going to be able to do more than just one alone. So if anything, she should be trying to get everyone else to push past their limits – even more than what Aizawa-sensei normally made them do.

Which, well, she obviously couldn't force anyone to do. She wasn't a teacher. She didn't have any authority over the others. And she didn't have any way to try and 'scare them into action' besides telling them what Gran Torino told her or making up some other tinfoil conspiracy. Which was a stupid idea and no one anyone in their right mind would ever seriously consider. And asking anyone out of the blue to come train with her for hours after school every day would just set off warning bells. Which meant all she had was herself and her own self-discipline. If she was lucky, maybe it would motivate someone else. But that was the most she could hope for.

So for now? Plus ultra. That's all she could do.

Because... well...

...

She was really going in circles, wasn't she.

She should stop doing that.

But she knew she wasn't the worst in class when it came to overthinking things.

That distinction belonged to Midoriya.

She'd hoped Midoriya's apathy and exhaustion on Monday were gonna be temporary, but the days after made it clear that wasn't the case.

He just got worse. Anxiety festered inside him. He clearly wasn't getting enough sleep. He often didn't finish his food. The teachers had to call his name multiple times for him to even register that it was his turn to read. He almost drowned during hero training once.

Aizawa-sensei was even ready to stop his internship if it got any worse.

Though Jirou had a sneaking suspicion that that was the worst possible thing he could do. Midoriya's exhaustion was almost entirely emotional. And a lot of it comprised of what seemed to be guilt. If this mental strain was caused by something he saw, removing him from his internship was going increase it exponentially.

Though leaving him to his own devices wouldn't be much better.

Jirou needed to tell him what she knew.

He needed to know she knew about his quirk.

And he needed to know she was willing to do whatever she needed to to help him.

But now wasn't the right time.

To even breech that subject, she had to get him alone. Then she had to tell him what she knew.

And she knew better than to confront him over something he clearly didn't want anyone to know about while he was in this state. Despite what she'd observed, he was actually doing a pretty good job functioning (distractions aside); but that didn't mean it was a good time to unload on him. He felt guilty about something now. He'd feel even guiltier that he wasn't even able to protect All Might's secret. And it would open up the possibility that other people knew too. Which would just make him paranoid on top of all that.

Sigh.

Midoriya wasn't the only one who had problems. There were a fair number of kids in Class A with baggage their own baggage:

Aoyama went out of his way to avoid people despite unequivocally being the loneliest member of Class A. Part of it had something to do with his belt – he was the only kid in class that needed support gear to help guide his quirk. And because of it, he seemed to think he was nowhere near on par with everyone else in class.

Uraraka had a metric fuckton of latent anxiety and was hell bent on pretending that nothing but happy emotions exist. Something had been a little off about her ever since the midterms, which Ashido seemed to think was a crush; but honestly, it sounded more like a bad feeling than any springtime of youth nonsense. It reminded Jirou of her dad's gut instincts in a way, though she had no idea what it was for. And Jirou had a feeling Uraraka didn't know either.

Bakugou was wired almost constantly and did whatever he could to make sure any feelings he considered 'weak' were covered by anger, grouchiness, yelling, and more anger – even if he had cooled down a bit. His heartbeat always spiked whenever they had lessons that involved getting captured or restrained. His nightmares were so common that Jirou literally filtered his reactions out entirely when she slept now. Though if nothing else, at least that fight he and Midoriya had after the license exam set his mind a little more at ease.

Iida was always afraid that one of them would go missing. A stern expression would always flash across his face whenever the tally came up short. He even counted the kids in Class B when they were in the same area. The forced retirement of his brother still weighed heavily on him. And while everyone who went to U.A. knew that hero work was dangerous, Iida was one of the few who truly grasped what was at stake. He was lucky his studious nature and 'class prez instincts' distracted him enough from going down a mental rabbit hole of his own.

Tokoyami was- Jesus Christ where to even begin.

Even the more relaxed and easygoing classmates had their own concerns: Shouji often appeared to be a blank slate, but he laser focused on any unfamiliar noises. Tsuyu seemed unflappable, but she kept a worried eye on kids that were sick or injured. Mineta was, well, Mineta; but he always got antsy whenever they left campus now.

If someone named a classmate of hers, Jirou could tell them what nervous behaviour that student gained since the beginning of the school year. Every. Single. One.

They were all affected by it, even if they didn't realize it. Even if they didn't acknowledge it. Even if they didn't put two and two together.

Point being: Almost everyone came into U.A. bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. And part their education was supposed to ease them into learning the grim realities almost all heroes would have to face at some point in their careers. But Class A was thrown into it directly. Twice. With death was a real possibility in both cases. In places that were supposed to be safe. Only an idiot would think they would be completely unaffected.

But what could Jirou do about it? What could she do for any of them?

Nothing, that's what.

People with problems did what they could to hide them. And the only reason she knew what she knew was because of what she heard behind closed doors. She could only listen to their problems, not fix them. And even if she offered to help, the chances that it would do any good were next to zero. Telling them just what she knew would make them close themselves off even more, which would make things even worse. And Jirou wouldn't be able to live with herself if she was the reason someone got expelled, or killed.

She'd long-since learned that it was best just to leave other people alone. Everyone had their own coping mechanisms and they seemed to be working well-enough. She might tell a teacher if she was completely absolutely 100% sure that they were going to hurt themselves or do something that would otherwise get themselves killed, but anything less than that wasn't worth the classwide paranoia that would inevitably follow.

Jirou might've at least asked Midoriya how he was feeling if they were closer. But she had enough tact to at least hold off on it until he didn't have so much on his plate. Obviously something happened that day, but whatever it was he wasn't venting to anyone else – for better or worse. If he wanted to confide in someone, he'd do it himself. Or maybe one of his closer friends would press him. Or maybe nothing would happen and he'd just decompress overtime once he wasn't so overloaded.

She even wrote it down in her notebook on a new page, drawing a new picture overtop as well:

I still haven't told Midoriya what I know yet. The internship's hitting him hard. Better not make things worse. I'll tell him when he's feeling better.

Yeah, the internship was the reason he was like this. It wasn't like it was gonna last forever.

There wasn't anything in the news about him or Sir Nighteye's office, so Jirou had no way of knowing what happened unless Midoriya started mumbling about it under his breath. And it also meant the incident probably wasn't over yet. Hopefully he'd get closure before the internship itself ended.

She could wait until then.

He was training under All Might's former sidekick, after all.

He'd be okay.

Thankfully, as predicted, no one seemed too concerned those first few days when Jirou came through the front door a couple hours after pretty much everyone else.

They had homework. The kids on dinner duty did their thing. Some of the slackers had the TV on. It was just about time to eat, so everyone was on the ground floor. About half of her classmates were sitting in the dining area. Most of the others were lazing on the couches. Some were looking at their phones. Some were talking. A few of them were even getting some of their homework done ahead of time. Jirou pulled her jack away from the door, and was careful not to make too much noise as she grabbed the handle and gently pulled it open.

Yep. No cuts in conversation. No comments about the door. Nothing about her. Just a few glances from people who then went right back to whatever they were doing. Good.

Class A tended to go back to the dorms together in batches, but it was pretty common for a kid or two to fly solo on any given day. Tokoyami sometimes went up to the roof (though more recently, Aoyama often went up with him). Shouji and Kouda too sometimes. Sometimes someone would forget their bag, homework, jacket, or whatever else and rush back to the main building to grab it before the locks automatically activated. Sometimes they'd want to go ahead or hang back or go for a jog do whatever else.

Point being: someone (her) coming back this late wasn't going to set off any warning bells. Heck, Kirishima and Ojiro got back after her yesterday. As long as everyone was in the building by dinner, no one would question it.

Speaking of which: Food time (soon). She took a look at what spots were still open.

There were a few of them that tried to always sit at the same table, but most of them just sat wherever while tending to gravitate toward their respective friend groups. Midoriya usually hung around Iida, Uraraka, and/or Todoroki. Kaminari usually sat with Sero or Mineta. Jirou herself tended to sit near Yaoyorozu, and that's whose table she grabbed a seat at.

Which was all well and good. Yaoyorozu, Tokoyami, and Shouji were chatting about something or other. Jirou injected herself into the conversation when she found an opportunity. Time passed. Dinner was ready. Everyone got their food. Jirou got a second helping. She didn't have much of an appetite, but eating more should give her more energy, right?

It was nice just chilling like this. She chatted between bites of her food. No one was talking about anything heavy – just class, homework, heroes, and some stuff trending on twitter. The atmosphere was peaceful and relaxed. It didn't seem like anyone was stewing or anxious – enough that it really stuck out as abnormal, anyway.

Though all good things must come to an end, she supposed.

The class usually had a quick 5-minute meeting on Sunday to distribute who got what chores. They were generally assigned in pairs. Anyone who wanted to do something in particular got to choose first. Anyone not present got assigned chores at random (and usually got scheduled for an extra shift or two – thanks guys); Bakugou and Todoroki were going to be stuck doing that until they got their licenses, and Jirou was gonna be in the same boat this week. The people left who didn't care either picked from what was left, or got assigned at random themselves.

So tonight, Jirou had dish duty with Kaminari.

Which wasn't a bad thing. Kaminari did his chores just like the rest of them. And given their recent trend of not having one-on-one conversations with each other at all, the two of them would probably finish pretty fast with nothing to distract them.

Jirou got a head start after most of the class had thrown their dishes in the sink. She turned on the tap and started rinsing of the plates that still had a lot of stuff on them. Kaminari was chatting with Kirishima, but he'd probably get up and join her when the last of them finished eating. A few more minutes passed and he did just that. Jirou scooched over to the other half of the sink. Kaminari grabbed a sponge and squirted some dishwashing liquid on it. Jirou grabbed a towel.

Kaminari scrubbed. Jirou did the final rinse and dry. Neither of them said anything to each other. Instead Kaminari bantered back and forth with his normal crew. Jirou stuck a jack in her phone, and used the other one to start up one of her playlists; she'd done it enough times that she didn't need to look at the screen unless she had something she wanted to listen to in particular.

Kaminari's conversation soon died out. Jirou focused on finishing the chore. They worked without saying anything. Which was fine. They both knew how to do dishes. They both knew what the other preferred doing. It wasn't hard to fall into a steady rhythm.

Then she noticed a glance in her peripheral vision.

Then a second.

Kaminari exhaled through his nose.

He clearly wanted to say something.

It wasn't the first time he'd been like that. Probably wasn't going to be the last either. And while Jirou didn't consider herself to be a mind reader, she had a few ideas of things he could want to discuss – most of which Jirou would have to be an idiot to go along with.

It wasn't like she was going out of her way to ignore him. And it wasn't like she refused to respond whenever he did say something (because, y'know, going mute during a team exercise or regular group conversation was just dumb). Really, she wanted to talk to him again. Because he was a good guy and they did get along really well before this whole silent period. They always walked to the station together after school, bantered with about everything under the sun, and talked in class using Morse code. Not that she couldn't do that with a lot of her other classmates (well- besides the Morse code), but Kaminari wasn't replaceable. No one in Class A was.

But if this was how things were gonna work out, this was how things were gonna work out. If Kaminari didn't want to let it go, Jirou wasn't going to try and make him. Because that would only encourage him. And they didn't need to fight again. All it would do is stress them both out and not resolve anything because Jirou wasn't going to be the one spilling secrets this heavy.

So silence it was.

“Jirou.”

…

Huh.

So he actually said something. It was the first time he'd directly addressed her alone in days – weeks if she didn't count team exercises or conversations involving at least one other person.

Might as well respond.

“Kaminari.”

He began tapping on a bowl with a fingernail. The sound reverberated out of the water.

You're back late.

She lowered her own voice to a level only he'd be able to hear.

“Yeah.”

Again.

Jirou's eyebrows furrowed.

“I guess.”

You really missed out on the study party before. Even I managed to learn a few things.

Great. Good for him. Except there was a reason he was tapping it out instead of shouting it from the rooftops.

“I'll manage.”

Yaomomo was really bummed you didn't show up.

That was days ago. Yaoyorozu didn't hold a grudge. She was one of the most understanding kids in their class. Jirou already apologized for not telling her she'd made plans ahead of time. Neither of them had mentioned it since then. It really wasn't a big deal.

Though the bigger question was: why he was only telling her this now?

“What's this about?”

Todoroki and Bakugou had those remedial lessons.

Kirishima, Uraraka, Midoriya, Tokoyami, and Tsuyu-chan all went and got internships.

Oh for the love of-

“Do you seriously think I'm doing either of those.”

Kaminari snorted.

You went off campus. Alone.

“Yeah. To see my parents.”

Not just that.

“Yes just that.”

Did something happen?

Was it really that obvious?

“No. Everything was normal.”

Is everything alright at home?

...Okay, that came out of left field.

“Well yeah. Why wouldn't it be?”

You haven't come home with anyone else after school since you got back.

“I did on Tuesday.”

You know what I mean.

Sigh. She should've known Kaminari would suspect something so soon.

”Look, I'm just getting some extra exercise.”

Your parents aren't threatening to take you out, are they?

“No.”

Then why?

“Why aren't you?”

Kaminari paused for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed. He glanced at her. Then went back to scrubbing the forks bunched in his hand.

It's not like we have any big tests soon.

She didn't respond to that. For the first few seconds it was because she was trying to decide which excuse would be the most believable to him. The next few after was deciding that anything she said then would sound suspicious.

Kaminari handed her a plate, then another, then a glass. She dried and placed them in the rack in turn.

Kaminari broke the silence by tapping on another bowl.

Is it about All Might?

God dammit.

“Not everything is about All Might.”

She couldn't blame him for thinking that, though. Everything they'd gone through that year was because the villains were after All Might. They wanted to kill him. They wanted to kill the people he had any connection to. And since he couldn't fight anymore, crime rates were spiking and everything was going to hell in a handbasket. It would make sense to be worried about him. Lots of people were.

But really, it was all about Midoriya now. Midoriya, the successor. Midoriya, the user of One for All. Midoriya, the carrier of a legacy spanning over a century. Midoriya, the freshman interning under All Might's former sidekick. Midoriya, the hero intern who already had something eating away at him. Midoriya, the U.A. student who would have a bigger target on his back than everyone else if the wrong people found out.

But most importantly: Midoriya, the one who had to defeat All for One once and for all.

It wasn't like All Might was chopped liver or anything. It's just that... well... she'd rather not go down that line of thinking until she was alone. She hadn't come up with any new ideas. All the overthinking involved did was stress her out, and no one needed that kind of negativity right now.

And regardless, Jirou knew she was nowhere near the top of the list of 'people who need someone to talk to now.'

“All Might's fine. If you want to worry about anyone, worry about the intern crew.”

Really just Midoriya; but drawing attention to just him would be stupid.

What's wrong with them?

“Nothing I know about.” Lies. “But they got a whole extra workload. They don't look it, but they're really tired. I think it's wearing on them. Heck, add in Bakugou and Todoroki. It's gonna be awhile before they get any days off.”

Kaminari shot her a flat look.

You're exercising for hours after class every day now because a few of our guys are tired.

Jirou snorted.

“I'm doing it because I wanna do what they're doing.” Not really. She liked having free time and lazing about. It's just that working towards a nebulous something let her feel like she wasn't just dead weight spinning her wheels overthinking the same thing for weeks on end. And it made for a pretty good cover story. Because Kaminari knew better than anyone else in their class that Jirou wouldn't just start doing extra training on her own out of nowhere. “But I know I'm not ready for it yet if even they're having trouble with it.”

Losing a few hours every day was fine. Losing a few days every week was not. She knew full well she didn't have the endurance or the drive to actually work out in the field while still going to school, even if it would be more useful as experience than just fighting robots. Panic was a good motivator, but she'd be lucky if what she was doing now didn't burn her out in a month or so. Better to play it safe now than have a meltdown later.

So you got rejected from getting an internship, is what you're saying.

She'd have facepalmed at that had her hands not been full of cutlery, but boy was it tempting. Lucky her for having an iota of self-restraint.

“My parents aren't heroes, dude.”

I never said they were.

Jirou grimaced.

“Look, I didn't go looking for an internship.” She shoved a plate onto the rack. “I just wanted to go home and spend some time with my folks, okay?”

And yet now you don't get home until hours after everyone else.

“Going home has nothing to do with why I'm doing more training now.” It really didn't. Her mom knew something was up, but she didn't say anything that factored into this. Why was Kaminari so fixated on her home life, anyway? “If I want a chance at getting an internship next year, I need to stop slacking off. That's all there is to it.”

A pause.

A stare.

Kaminari's mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You know what? Fine. Keep being all weird and secretive. See if I care,” Kaminari grumbled under his breath. Jirou wasn't aware that the mere act of handing over a cup could be so passive-aggressive.

A minute passed in silence.

Then two.

Yep.

He was pissed.

And Jirou'd be lying if she said she wasn't irritated too. Because not only was Kaminari trying to get more information out of her when she clearly told him no before: he was doing it while she was trying to appear totally normal and not paranoid about the inevitable breakout from one of the most secure prisons in the world and death of one of the greatest heroes the world has ever known. And clearly she was failing on some level seeing as how they were talking about this now.

Seriously, why couldn't he just let it go?

…

He was the one to start the conversation, though. And it wasn't even about All Might at first. And he also had enough sense not drag in anyone else. And had enough sense to talk to her 'alone', while not leaving a paper trail or giving anyone else a reason to be suspicious. A quick glance back confirmed no one was looking at the two of them; and no one had approached Jirou or acted weird around her at all in the past few days either, which meant he hadn't told them anything or even brought it up.

And... well... she appreciated that. Kaminari was a good guy – he really was. And his quirk would be really useful if they ever had to fight a villain (especially now that he could actually direct his electricity). But that was the same case for literally everyone else in their class. The only thing that really set him apart in this case was that he had something resembling an idea of what was going on. And even then it was just from the tidbits that Jirou had let slip. And Jirou obviously wasn't going to give him anything else to latch onto if she could help it.

All Might had managed to keep his secrets secret because he only told people that had to know. He, the man who was probably the most well-known face in all of Japan, somehow never had a single leak of information. Even his age was unknown. The only reason Jirou herself managed to fall into the thick of it was because no one had ever thought to take her quirk into consideration and prepare accordingly. And Kaminari was somewhat aware of it too, even if he lacked anything he could use to put two and two together and come to the same conclusions she did.

She knew he had only the best intentions, but he wasn't a part of this.

And if Midoriya wanted either of them to know, he would've told them by now. And considering they almost accidentally exposed All Might's secret all those months ago, Jirou wouldn't blame him if they were at the bottom of his 'most trustworthy people to tell secrets in case of an emergency' list. And it was bad enough that Jirou did all that other stuff behind his back.

But that didn't mean the two of them couldn't talk about things completely unrelated to it. They were still friends, right? There were plenty of things they could talk about.

“Hey, you know the Spark Sisters, right?” Her voice went back to its normal volume. No sense in staying quiet when she was just trying to make small talk. Regular small talk about heroes. Nothing weird about it.

“Hn.”

Well uh... Points for acknowledgment?

“You see that zap whip Akaring's got now? It's pretty cool. Maybe you could ask Hatsume to fix you up something like that. You wanted a sword, right?” Or was it a spear he wanted? Some kind of weapon, at least. That'd be pretty neat.

“Yeah. I guess.” Kaminari didn't even bother trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Okay fine. Be that way. So much for starting a different kind of conversation and talking like normal human beings.

Jirou wasn't going to push it if he really didn't want to (because even with only a few responses, she could already tell he wasn't going to say much else), but it'd be nice if they could quit it with the silent treatment. Though she doubted that would happen without some kind of miracle. Because nothing else was gonna fix what was making him cranky in the first place. And Jirou wasn't going to try and start conversations if he was going to be like that whenever they were alone (well- in a way; most of the class was still on the ground floor, after all).

Maybe when Midoriya didn't have so much on his plate and she told him what she knew, she'd ask if Kaminari could join in too. But she wasn't going to say anything until she got the okay. In the end, it was Midoriya's call what was okay to talk about and that was that. Not Jirou's. Midoriya's.

Speaking of which, she honed in on Midoriya. He was in a conversation with Iida and some of the others. The news was running a story about a hero stopping a villain on the loose. Said hero was apparently one of Ingenium's former sidekicks, and Iida had spoken to him a few times in person. Midoriya chattered about how his method of apprehending the villain with a spiderweb made of vines was a creative use of his quirk. Mineta mentioned that Sero could probably do that with some practice, and Ashido built off that observation with a Spidertape joke. Talking with friends helped calm the swirling vat of anxiety inside Midoriya; and it helped everyone else too.

Everyone had their own unique set of worries. In Class A there were obvious things like grades, tests, and practical exercises they weren't suited for – things that any kid in their shoes would feel the same about. Then there was the underlying fact that they'd been attacked by villains twice and knew that it could possibly happen a third, which she was sure lingered in the backs of everyone's minds to some degree, even if they weren't aware of it themselves. Then there were things like insecurities and past trauma she could clearly see the aftereffects of, but couldn't do anything about.

Those last ones were the worst by a landslide. And she'd long-since learned that they were the types of problems you don't try and help with.

Not because she didn't want to – things would be way easier if she could be some magic fairy godmother able to fix people's problems with a swish of her earlobes. But that wasn't how reality worked and people generally didn't want their worst fears and memories casually brought up as a conversation topic; and they'd only tell their closest friends or therapist if they had any choice in the matter.

If she tried to coax out those feelings to address them, it would only lead that person shutting themselves off even more. No one liked being hurt. No one liked the effects it had on everything else they did. And if it was so obvious that even someone they could barely call an acquaintance (read: her) could see what they were going through, they'd feel even worse because that meant they really weren't coping as well as they thought.

She really had to wonder what happened to Midoriya that first day of his internship. He left the dorms excited. He came back exhausted. And whatever experience he went through had been eating away at him ever since. But he wasn't allowed to talk about when went on in during his internship – no one was. Maybe it was tougher that he'd expected. Maybe he had to fight a villain that really took a toll on him. Maybe he just got reamed out for not being at All Might's level yet.

Maybe Sir Nighteye told him just what was going to happen to All Might.

But guilt was guilt. It wasn't like she could make any real educated guesses without context.

...

Regardless, the stars had aligned and decided 'no Jirou, you're not telling him you know he's All Might's successor and that you know everything. You waited too long and now you missed your chance. Way to go, dumbass.' She couldn't waltz over and ask questions, and she couldn't try and exchange info to make sure they were on the same page. The most she could do is sit back and wait for him to be in just the right emotional state that they could hash things out and be done with it. And who knew when that would be.

Midoriya wasn't the type to flip out by any means, but the last thing he needed was the stress of knowing that someone had managed to learn his secret on top of everything else he was going through. And Jirou didn't even wanna think about what would happen if she let something slip that even he didn't know about. Even with everyone around cooling him down now, his anxiety would come back with a vengeance after a few minutes alone if he wasn't careful. And she needed to catch him while he was alone. In person.

Even in a best-case scenario, texting something ominous like 'we need to talk' would leave a paper trail. She didn't think anyone would start rummaging through her phone, but the last thing she needed was someone catching a glimpse of her message history. Or Midoriya asking one of the others about it himself. Ashido might think she had a crush, which Jirou would either have to play along with or come up with a different explanation (and the last thing she needed was to have a whole nother set of lies to keep track of). Iida would question them and ask if everything was alright, which could get him roped in this too. Kaminari would take it as evidence that there was really something else going on, and in a worst-case scenario would either bug Midoriya for answers or go straight to All Might.

Hell, she could probably come up with something for everyone.

And, well, any of those happening would be worse than doing nothing at all.

So that was it. Midoriya had a lot on his mind. Jirou would have to wait until he felt better to bring up everything else. Really, the best thing she could do now was keep her mouth shut and pretend everything was just fine until the timing was right.

She just hoped it wouldn't keep getting worse.

And thankfully it didn't.

Midoriya stormed off straight to the staff room after classes one day. If Jirou had to hazard a guess, it'd be that he was probably looking for All Might. The only other teacher he could possibly have any business with was Aizawa-sensei, but Aizawa-sensei hadn't told Midoriya to see him later or anything similar, despite what he's said before.

But All Might wasn't in the main building anymore, and she couldn't track him outside once he got far-enough away. The fact that Midoriya then raced out of building all but confirmed that suspicion. But Jirou couldn't track him anymore either without leaving as well and following him like some sort of stalker. Not that following him in meatspace would be any worse that what she'd been doing.

Why would he need to talk to All Might, anyway? Something to do with his internship? One for All? Sir Nighteye? More training? A smack from the combat bot she was facing would bring her back to reality whenever her thoughts got too focused on it. Which served her right since that's what she should've been focusing on.

She wondered what Midoriya was doing about his own limitations. All Might couldn't just punch his way to victory every single time (even if it seemed like it). What what he going to do long-range opponents? Just go so fast that they couldn't get away? She knew he got some new gloves and leg thingies, but those seemed to be just another stopgap to keep him from breaking his bones. Which was a small victory in itself, honestly.

Right now, Jirou herself was focusing on hand-to-hand combat (and weapons-based too), keeping her jacks in a makeshift bun behind her neck. Like pretty much everyone else in the hero program, her quirk was the cornerstone of her fighting style. And like a lot of them, she was screwed when she couldn't use it. So a fair amount of the extra combat training she was doing (with robots, obviously) was to help with her ability to fight close-range. It wasn't that she expected to have to fight Aizawa-sensei anytime soon. More that if she was up against someone sound wasn't effective against, she needed more than just shockwaves and fleshwhips to hold her own. And the multitude of hair ties she used to hold her lobes together helped curb the urge to whip them about at every opportunity. So she had to rely on her fists, legs, and whatever weaponry she could find.

In the end, she decided the glass cannon build wasn't right for her. Gran Torino did say they had time, so it made more sense to work on her strength and endurance after hours than quirk, quirk, and more quirk. Then she'd utilize those gains in class and be stronger for it. That was the plan, at least.

She just hoped Gran Torino was right. There wasn't anything on the news or whatever phone calls she overheard that said otherwise, but she was aware it was a real possibility and that she needed to get as strong as she could as fast as she could.. And she hoped whatever extra power she got from this would be enough to make a difference when shit really hit the fan.

Because if it didn't...

Well...

She pushed those thoughts to the back-burner.

The first thing Jirou noted when she got back to the dorms that night was the weight that had lifted off Midoriya's chest.

It was easy to guess that he'd talked to All Might, or at least someone. People rarely random epiphanies that suddenly fixed their mental state – not that things were totally fine now. But he was at least feeling a little better now. His near shell-shocked expression was gone, at least; even when he wasn't a part of any conversations. He joked around a bit too. Acting more like a normal teenager. On a surface level, he had totally gotten over his funk.

But inside him was a much more subtle dread.

It permeated his actions the next day. He practically radiated determination. He wasn't spacing out in class anymore. He was functioning as well as he ever had. Not that Midoriya was a slouch, but his attacks and movements during their training days had an edge to them now. There was more power behind them. More speed. Not as much precision, but more attempts at trying new things to see what would work.

Almost like he was desperate to...

...

So should she just chance it?

On one hand, he was already feeling a lot better.

On the other, that dread inside him wasn't something she wanted to mess with; especially since there wasn't any real indication of what it was about.

It wasn't about any of their classmates. He wasn't treating any of them differently, or focusing on anyone in particular. He still had his friends he talked with the most. He still had friendly acquaintances he had no problem sharing conversations with. Once in a while someone would ask how he was feeling, but other than that, it didn't seem like anything had changed within his interactions. Well- nothing that gave her any weird vibes, at least.

It could be All Might. She was almost completely certain he was the one Midoriya talked to, though it wasn't like she was gonna ask him to clarify. Midoriya had calmed down, obviously; but All Might seemed to be the one that was invigorated, if she were to be honest. All she could really say there was that Midoriya didn't seem to be in a rush to prepare for any kind of deadline. It wasn't something she could rule out entirely, though.

Last was the internship: most plausible answer, in her opinion. Midoriya'd been wound up ever since he came back to school that first Monday. Maybe it was something Sir Nighteye told him. Maybe it was something he encountered. No one doing an internship could talk about anything not already public knowledge, so she had nothing to actually go off of. All she knew was that he was really worried before, said worry wasn't filling every fiber of his being anymore, and that he was still worried regardless.

He was feeling better, but there were still too many uncertainties for her to feel comfortable just waltzing over there and dumping everything she knew on him. On top of that, his internship was still draining the absolute hell out of him, emotionally or not. Putting more on his plate when it wasn't anywhere near necessary at the moment could send him right back where he was. Maybe.

She needed to tell him eventually. And she would. Really.

But now wasn't the time.

After he was done with his internship, schoolwork would be the only thing taking his attention.

He might still be anxious, but they would have enough time to work things out.

She could tell him she knew about his quirk and the fact that he was All Might's successor.

And that she didn't tell anyone else.

And that she would keep his secret too.

He just needed to finish his internship and they'd be good to go.

It would only be a few more weeks at most.

Then there wouldn't be anything else standing in her way.

She'd do it then.

He'd be okay then.

A/N: [sad trombone]I was looking for vinyl albums Jirou could hide her notebook in and now I'm into post rock send help.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha fanfics #mha #Jirou

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brick-boat-blog · 6 years ago

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When you keep getting easily distracted while writing:

#;_;

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brick-boat-blog · 6 years ago

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almost there aaaaaaaaa

#holy fuck it doesn't feel like it's been a year and a half #feels like it's been 6 months #tops #but yeah There's Only So Much Time ch2's almost done #I SWEAR

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brick-boat-blog · 6 years ago

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Failsafe

Summary: It could never hurt to be too prepared.

Word Count: 5.4k

FF.net: Here

AO3: Here

A/N: Not that it's TOO important to the story but this takes place before the Yakuza arc. It also takes place after Perception, but if you read this on it's own you won't be missing anything.

There was no time like the present.

A thousand unforeseen circumstances could interrupt at a future time. A lull in the looming chaos was be the best time to proceed. It would be foolish not to take the opportunity while he still had the ability to do so.

Tokoyami stood alone in front of his classmate's door. The hallway was quiet and empty. The set of windows across the atrium revealed no figures as well. Everyone had finished their baths: Those who wished to socialize returned to the ground floor. Those who had other business to take care of remained in their rooms. It was a small stretch of time that would allow him to complete his task undisturbed. And the serenity allowed him to steel himself for what was to come.

He and Aoyama needed to talk.

The matter was not urgent – in fact, it concerned an event unlikely to ever pass for the remainder of the school year. Barring certain bunkers, prisons, and government facilities, U.A. was one of the most secure locations in all of Japan; which meant nothing short of every unlucky star aligning at once would trigger an accident to cause it.

But while time was not of the essence, sooner was always better than later. And with how the rest of this school year had fared, it would be prudent not to risk it.

There was no particular reason to choose this day over any other. He merely decided it was time following a string of weeks where he did nothing but stew on potential directions this discussion could potentially take. The two of them were not particularly close, so he could only infer: Ideally, Aoyama would be perfectly understanding, and would agree with his line of reasoning. Reluctance followed by some kind of compromise would also be favorable. But there was the possibility of trepidation at the potential worst-case scenario. And the possibility of anger, or even disgust at the thought of being asked to do that. And even worse would be the assumption that Tokoyami was disturbed and a danger to himself and others; and then telling a teacher or other member of the school staff that he needed professional help; all while ignoring that there were much more important things at risk here than Tokoyami's mental state.

But whatever Aoyama's reaction might be, Tokoyami could not in good conscience give him this kind of proffer while around others with whom it did not concern.

The most obvious reason was that very few of them could do anything should his worst fears become realized. He did not wish to throw anyone into a fit of anxiety. He did not wish to make them feel as if they had to walk on eggshells. Imprudent concern and sympathetic folderol would do little to alter that which had already been preordained. Terrible consequences often came with the best of intentions, and he desired not to burn the bridges he had endeavored to build over the course of the school year for something he could have easily prevented.

But it wasn't until Tokoyami looked for a time for the two of them to speak alone that he realized Aoyama rarely spent any time at all in the company of their peers. He would instead sequester himself in his room, to the point that he seemed to outright vanish outside of class-wide gatherings. Obviously he left for the day with the rest of their male peers after they finished the last of their classes; but then he would separate from the others the moment the entered their dormitory and head straight for the elevators – never accompanying any of the others.

That in itself was not odd – many of their peers would make a beeline for their rooms following their return. It was the fact that he never seemed to leave that was troubling.

There were a myriad of possible explanations for such behavior, but none Tokoyami could assume with with any kind of certainty. The two of them rarely exchanged words even in team exercises and he had no family members in the public eye (that he knew of, at least), so Tokoyami had no vantage point from which to draw his own conclusions with any reasonable amount of accuracy.

The initial impression that Tokoyami garnered during their first few months of the school year was that Aoyama was an eagerly social teenager with a predilection for adding to the conversations around him. And yet for the (admittedly brief) amount of time Tokoyami had passively observed him, Aoyama's interactions with the rest of the class never seemed to advance beyond superficial quips; which was a concerning contrast to his debonair demeanor. If their peers were making comments, he would slip in one of his own without drawing too much attention to himself (save for the times he played the part of the fool). If he was having trouble solving a problem, he would wait until someone else had one similar and join them, rather than seek assistance of his own accord. And though Tokoyami had seen him leave the room when it was time for lunch, he could not remember the last time he had seen Aoyama in the cafeteria with sitting with anyone else.

It was doubtful Aoyama would turn truculent at the mere mention of offering assistance (unlike some he knew), but Tokoyami knew it would behoove the both of them to save such a talk for later times, if at all.

And whatever the root of Aoyama's actions were, they had nothing to do with what Tokoyami wished to discuss. And continuing to tarry would accomplish nothing. It would only increases the chances of being seen – likely by Midoriya or Mineta as they returned to their respective rooms. Perhaps they would pay no heed to their classmate waiting outside another's door, but there would always be the chance that they would impose on a conversation meant for only two. Which would bring up its own set of complications.

It would be a lie for Tokoyami to say he felt no apprehension towards meeting in person, but a text message was not the medium to make a request so dire. There would be no incentive to make a response should he feel nervous. And a lack of closure could impede their future interactions, in class or otherwise. And there were no students he knew who held a close-enough relationship with Aoyama that he could request a message be passed along.

Therefore, he would have to do it himself.

And he would.

In 3...

2...

He released a long-held breath, and knocked on the door.

...

A moment passed in silence.

Then two.

Then a dozen more.

Odd, but it could take Aoyama time to finish whatever he was doing. It was unlikely he would be expecting visitors.

Tokoyami could wait.

...

Perhaps he should return at a later time. If Aoyama did not wish to speak, it would be incredibly ill-mannered to force him. Tokoyami could come back tomorrow and try again.

But he did not desire Aoyama to feel shunned, which was certainly possible should Aoyama find no one at the door when he opened it. One time would be easy to dismiss; but should this happen again, he could come to the conclusion that he was being mocked, which would further isolate him from the rest of the class. Tokoyami did not desire any ill will to fall towards him, imagined or otherwise.

So he would stay, for a little while longer at least.

And he was about to try knocking once more when the door finally creaked open, stopping halfway.

Aoyama stood in the open space. He wore a hesitant stare with his usual pyjamas. The expression lingered for a moment before breaking into his trademark smirk.

“Ah-! Good evening, Monsieur Tokoyami.”

The tone of his voice carried its usual pep. No other sounds came from inside the room. It seemed he was not preoccupied at the moment. Which was good. That meant he could continue.

Tokoyami returned the greeting.

“Good evening, Aoyama.”

Aoyama tilted his head and pressed a finger to his chin, previously apparent anxiety vestigial.

“What brings you to my door this fine evening?”

Tokoyami folded his arms.

“I'd like to have a word with you.”

Aoyama's smile wavered.

“Is... everything all right?”

...That was a rather ominous way of saying it, wasn't it. Alarming Aoyama was not his intent. It would be best to clarify what he meant in order to rectify the situation before it got out of hand.

“It is,” Tokoyami said, keeping his voice level. “I merely wish to ask a favor and discuss its conditions.”

Which seemed to be all it took. Aoyama paused, then swung the door fully open.

“Then please, entrez!” He stood to the side and flicked his wrist to usher Tokoyami in.

The coruscation had diminished significantly since their dorm room showcase. The disco ball on his table had been removed, instead replaced by a tray with an electric kettle, a sugar bowl, a batch of spoons, and a small stack of tawdry teacups with matching saucers next to it. Only a few of the many lamps were lit. The room more closely resembled that of an average teenager, disregarding certain items that would look out of place in almost any setting. (He still pondered the origin of that suit of armor. And also wondered where he could acquire one of his own.)

Aoyama shut the door behind them after he entered, then trotted over to the back portion of his room and pulled out the rolling chair from under the vanity – it's plain black simplicity stood out far more than any of the much more ornate decorations. He sent it to Tokoyami with a small push. Tokoyami caught it, and took the implicit invitation to sit down. Aoyama moved to sit across from him on the bed.

Then he grabbed the kettle and the top teacup off its stack.

“Would you like some tea?”

Tokoyami shook his head.

“It's quite alright. I would prefer not to overstay my welcome.”

He immediately realized his sentence could be construed as him wanting to leave as soon as possible. Though it certainly would be the most economical choice to make his request and excuse himself, he was not in any particular hurry to do so. Rather, he came to Aoyama's door unannounced; hospitality was the last thing expected (or deserved, for that matter).

Thankfully, Aoyama seemed to interpret Tokoyami's words in a much more positive light.

“Oh, non non non! It would be my pleasure!”

Well then, he had no reason to refuse.

“I would then, thank you.”

Aoyama poured a cup of tea and handed it on a saucer to Tokoyami, then took another for himself. A soothing, flowery aroma wafted around the room. It was quite pleasant.

He lifted the cup to his mouth, careful not to spill. He had long since become accustomed to normal mugs and glasses designed for the mouths of primates (though he still preferred straws), but the tapered lip of the teacup provided a small extra challenge: Not only was there a larger potential area for the liquid to leak, the porcelain rim was thin-enough to break on the hard keratin of his beak should he lose focus.

He took a small sip. The tea slid smooth down his throat.

Hm. Tasty.

Tokoyami was not well-versed when it came to particular types of tea, but he was pretty sure this was chamomile. There was a hint of lemon and honey, and it was sweet – just shy of cloying. Though he didn't mind that taste; he just knew he would have to brush his teeth once more when he returned to his room.

Aoyama nudged sugar bowl towards him.

“Cream or sugar?”

“No thank you. I'm fine.” He chose not to mention the absence of the former item, and instead chose to take another sip.

Aoyama retracted the bowl and poured a few spoonfuls of sugar into his own cup. Tokoyami wondered if he should be concerned.

They spent a few moments quiet, the only sound being from the clinking of Aoyama's spoon against porcelain. Aoyama took a sip, then brought the cup down to his knees.

“Now, I believe you have some business with moi?” The tone in Aoyama's voice was cordial, but he made no effort to establish eye contact; instead choosing to direct his gaze somewhere a few centimeters below Tokoyami's beak.

“Indeed.” Tokoyami nodded. “Though I would first like to discuss the nature of our quirks, if that would be alright.”

Aoyama tensed, but his smile didn't falter.

“Certainly. What about them?”

Tokoyami summoned Dark Shadow. The creature emerged from the portion of his shadow on the floor. He gestured towards it.

“I believe you are familiar with mine.”

“Monsieur Shadow.” Aoyama gave a small-but-unnecessarily-exaggerated bow, despite still being seated. Miraculously, none of his tea spilled with the motion.

“Good evening!” Dark Shadow chirped and returned the gesture. Others acknowledging its presence as a semi-sentient being was not common, much less speaking directly to it. As of that point in the school year, Kouda and Tsuyu were the only other ones to do so. Though he had a feeling that a few more of their classmates were beginning to catch on.

Aoyama brought a curved finger to his chin and his gaze turned up. It seemed as if remembered something.

“Oh! Actually- before we continue, may I ask something? I've been meaning to for quite some time now.”

There was nothing wrong with asking questions. Tokoyami was more than willing to clarify any uncertainties his classmate might have.

“Certainly. What is it?”

Aoyama pointed at Dark Shadow with his free hand.

“Can I pet him?”

…

What?

“Um...” That... was not a request he'd heard since his early years of elementary school. A fair number of children thought it akin to a dog when they first met it (often referring to it with person pronouns, like Aoyama just did), but most became frightened after seeing how powerful it was. By middle school, no one asked to see it at all.

The idea of possibly hurting someone else also didn't sit well with him, so he refrained letting it engage in physical contact that served no purpose.

That didn't mean it hadn't happened at all in recent times, of course. A few of the girls in their class had taken to patting it for a job well done without his permission. But that was also during broad daylight and Dark Shadow reveled in the praise. Now it was twilight, and he couldn't predict how his quirk would react without the sun to keep it at bay; even in a well-lit room such as this one.

Surely Aoyama would understand a polite refusal-

“Sure!”

Dark Shadow slithered under Aoyama's hand before Tokoyami could respond.

“Ah, merci!”

Dark Shadow why.

For his quirk to be touched like one would a docile animal was... an odd feeling, to say the least. Tokoyami was aware of the touch, but the sensation wasn't felt on his own physical form. And yet the fact that the pat was on its head (the part of its form that most consistently held its shape, regardless of the actions performed) made the sensation associate with his own. It wasn't unpleasant, per se. Just... strange.

But alright. Tokoyami wasn't going to scold him for it. It seemed unlikely now that Dark Shadow's behavior would turn inimical. He probably got the idea in the first place from observing their classmates. And regardless of Aoyama's reasons for feeling the urge in the first place, he was getting it out of his system. He would soon see that there was no point in continuing because Dark Shadow was not an animal and didn't respond like one (for better or worse).

Aoyama moved from petting the top of its head to giving it scritches under its beak.

Dark Shadow cooed.

Tokoyami mentally facepalmed.

“Anyway.” Tokoyami added a slight edge to his voice. It seemed to catch Aoyama's attention well-enough. “I do not wish to belabor the point, so I shall be frank:”

He continued, gesturing towards his quirk. “Dark Shadow is capable of freeing itself from my control given certain conditions, such as stress under low light. I would like to have a contingency plan ready should that ever happen in the future.”

Aoyama's hand fell to his lap. Dark Shadow shrank back. The convivial air around the room dampened immediately.

Aoyama looked back at Tokoyami.

“Ah. Is that what happened during our summer vacation?” His tone was unvarnished, lacking its usual lilt; yet it was pleasantly calm in a way that held no other implications.

“...So you're aware of it.”

Tokoyami remembered Aoyama approaching Midoriya following Bakugou's kidnapping, though he could not remember seeing him following the start of their test of courage. In his rampage he attacked Shouji, chasing him and Midoriya to Todoroki and Bakugou's location. Then Dark Shadow removed the threat to the latter two, and their light combined allowed him to regain control over it.

Aoyama was not part of that. Tokoyami could only hope that Dark Shadow didn't strike him without realizing it.

“Oui. Though I cannot say I witnessed the entire incident.”

Which was for the best. None of those who had seemed to think of him any differently since then, but he knew that wouldn't be the case for everyone.

“But you've seen how dangerous it can be.”

Aoyama glanced at Dark Shadow.

“...I have.”

Dark Shadow gave a small whine and lowered its head, pressing its claws together. A favorable response, since that meant it would likely continue to sulk instead of exhibiting more bellicose behavior. Though he would prefer that they not test its limits in a place most on campus would consider a haven from violence, rather than a cauldron for it.

“My request is simple:” Tokoyami placed his cup and saucer on the table, and brought his hands together, fingers loosely interlocking. “If you or another find yourselves in mortal peril due to a lapse in my control, please do not hesitate to strike me down.”

He tacked on after, if only to soften his words:

“I hope you understand.”

Aoyama paused for a moment. His brow became a touch furrowed.

But then his near perpetually pursed lips broke into a weary smile.

“I do.” His eyes fell downcast. “Though I hope I should never have to fulfill it.”

That was... quite a bit easier than Tokoyami had expected.

He had not expected Aoyama to assent so easily. He had presumed instead that it would at least take some degree of convincing. The countless potential conversations played out within his mindscape almost always ended in some form of debate; and the most positive of them ended with a begrudging acceptance. Any scenarios that played out better he dismissed as wishful thinking – so much so that it seemed wrong that he received the answer he was most hoping for.

He forced relief to override his other sentiments. He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the the mouth.

But he had to clear that last remaining speck of doubt.

“Your consideration is most appreciated. Shall I take it as acceptance?”

There was always the possibility that he had misheard it, or that he was not interpreting it correctly. He had to make sure they were both on the same page.

“...Oui.” Aoyama nodded. “I shall.”

And that was all he needed.

“You have my thanks.”

Which was scarcely enough to convey Tokoyami's gratitude. He had just avowed his intent to perish when circumstances called for it, and had not received the unsought pity he feared was inevitable. Nor had he received any misguided ire or undue concern. Rather, he received a better response than he had ever thought possible.

And should there ever arise a time where Tokoyami-

“Though may I ask a favor of my own?”

Ah. He thought too soon.

“Of course. I would not expect you to bear such a burden without due compensation.”

If and an spoiled many a good charter, but it would not be fair to expect Aoyama to follow their arrangement through without receiving anything in return. Even when committed at the behest of the patient, ending the life of another would affect anyone with a conscience for years to come. It was an unfortunate inevitability for anyone with even an iota of empathy.

So if there was any way Tokoyami could requite such a task, he would not hesitate to do so.

Aoyama nodded, but stared down into his cup.

“Well... You see...” He bit his lower lip. “I guess... if it ever comes down to having to choose between saving myself and saving anyone else – or even just capturing a villain, please don't hesitate to leave me behind.”

...

That... was nowhere near what he had expected. He couldn't help but wonder:

“Whatever for?”

An eye for an eye was a reasonable request, but Tokoyami could not fathom why Aoyama would wish for it. Tokoyami held a dangerous quirk that could slay an untold number of people should the stars align at the worst possible moment. In contrast, Aoyama's quirk was one that required precision to utilize effectively. It certainly could be deadly as well, but it could never free itself from his control and act of its own accord.

And yet salient apprehension dripped from Aoyama. His occupied hand clenched around the teacup's handle.

“To put it simply, it's not hard to see the gap between myself and the rest of our class.” He grimaced. There was an audible strain to hold his voice steady. “It's also not hard to see that it's widening.”

And he continued before Tokoyami could interject.

“I know I'll just get in the way one of these days.” He gulped. “And if worst comes to worse, I'd rather not hold anyone back if I can help it.”

Aoyama paused to take another sip tea, then set the cup on the table with its saucer. A silence permeated the air as he grabbed the teapot and poured himself a refill.

Tokoyami didn't know how to respond to that.

“That being said,” Aoyama resumed, apparently sensing Tokoyami's loss for words, “wouldn't Monsieur Todoroki or Monsieur Bakugou be more suited to your task?”

He continued.

“I mean- I'm delighted that you think I'm capable of performing such a task. But the two of them are much more powerful than I.”

It was true that Bakugou and Todoroki stood at top of the class.

But if his theory on how the teachers decided their room assignments was correct, there was a reason it neither of them he was placed next to.

“Bakugou's and Todoroki's quirks emit light as well, but only as a byproduct of what they produce. It took the two of them together to help me reign in my own that night.” And things would had likely gone much different had they not drawn the lots that put them together. “As concentrated light, your laser should be able to cut through Dark Shadow with little trouble; and I as well, should the need arise.”

“That sounds scary. Please don't do that.” Dark Shadow shivered. Aoyama reached over and patted it.

Tokoyami sighed.

“It is to only be a last resort, Dark Shadow.”

Aoyama nodded.

“Oui. I do not wish to harm either of you, mon ami.”

Which Dark Shadow seemed to take as permission to rest its head on Aoyama's leg and exhale. Which it most certainly was not. Quirks were not supposed to act of their own accord. And this one in particular possessed enough of its own intelligence to know better. And it was doing so right after Tokoyami explained why that was a bad thing, as if to prove a point. Stop that.

But Aoyama only encouraged it with another pat on the head. Then two. Then a few more.

Oh for the love of...

Sigh.

Anyway.

Aoyama brought a finger to his chin. Tokoyami sent Dark Shadow back into the shaded area near his feet with a flick of the wrist. Aoyama's eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Although... What if my quirk-”

Aoyama stopped mid-sentence. It seemed he wished to ask a question. Instead he shook his head and murmured:

“...Nevermind, it's nothing.” He chose instead to change the subject. Peculiar, but Tokoyami would not pry. “Anyway – quirk aside, the rest of my body is weak. I'm not sure how well I would fare against you in the event that we do have to battle.”

His poor performance in close quarters combat could certainly be adduced to explain his hesitation. His quirk was quite powerful, and able to take out training robots with ease. And as such, it would be quite easy to rely on as a crutch. Such problems were quite common among students and heroes alike – Tokoyami being a glaring example.

“We are similar in the former regard, I'm afraid.” Tokoyami too oft neglected to hone his skills sans quirk, though he had been working to change that. “Dark Shadow currently bears the brunt of my ability in battle, though I hope our education will change that.”

“I see...”

Aoyama bit his lip. He paused another moment before speaking again.

“Well um-”

Then looked up.

“Maybe...”

Then met Tokoyami's gaze.

“We could train together?”

There was an idea.

“I mean- we don't have to if you don't want to!” Aoyama looked to the side, and fidgeted with his fingers. “I just thought since we could both use improvement in hand-to-hand combat...”

It was good that they were both cognizant of their own weaknesses, and that they both wished to mitigate them. A problem shared was a problem halved. To ply their skills in combat would only benefit them, especially when they both lacked in prowess when it came to fighting without their quirks.

It was too good an opportunity to refuse.

“On the contrary: It's an excellent proposition. I accept.”

There were certain members of their class who would exercise on occasion during their free time. Kirishima or Midoriya would have been Tokoyami's choices had the question of whom he would like to accompany presented itself an hour ago. However, the two of them both focused on their strength to begin with; Tokoyami would have struggled to catch up, which in turn would have held them back for as long as it took to do so.

Aoyama's physical capabilities sans quirk more closely resembled his own, which meant the growth they would reap would be much more mutually beneficial.

“Really?” Aoyama clapped his hands together. “Oh merci, mon ami!”

Though doing so immediately would be foolish as the night was fully upon them. Certainly, they were not the only members of their class still awake, but it still no time to leave their dormitory. Even if they were to use the centre courtyard (thus, strictly speaking, not an aberration of their curfew), tomorrow was not a holiday nor any other they had off. Fatigue would impair their ability to function during their classes, and even more so during their training exercises.

Aoyama seemed to have the same thought, however; as he continued with a question of his own:

“Though it is a tad late. Would you like to meet tomorrow?”

“I would prefer Friday, if that's all right with you. We will not be weary from exercises then.” Though it would be incredibly unlikely, he would prefer to avoid another incident where he fell asleep before he could return to the dorms – especially given the place in had in mind. “And as for a location, what do you think of using the rooftop of our school?”

The main building's four rooves were still rarely utilized by anyone other than himself. Even in the unlikely event that there were others atop his usual spot that day, there were three more the two of them could use. Come to think of it, the one with the helicopter landing pad could make an excellent arena if it was just the two of them. He couldn't remember it ever being used for as long as he attended U.A.. Perhaps he would suggest that when the time came.

“Je l'aime!” Tokoyami had no idea what that meant, but he would take it to be an expression of approval. “And thus the date is set! I will see you then, Monsieur Tokoyami!”

A beaming smile stretched across Aoyama's face; one that Tokoyami had never seen upon him before.

Tokoyami nodded, allowing the edges of his beak to curve.

“You as well, Aoyama.”

And thus that conversation was over. They conversed for a few more minutes before exchanging goodbyes. Tokoyami gave a small wave as his made his exit. Dark Shadow sprung out to do the same, though it was much more exaggerated. Aoyama returned the favor, still beatific, then grabbed his phone – perhaps to make a reminder for himself. Tokoyami would do well to make one of his own when he went back in his room.

Tokoyami shut the door behind him. No one was in the hall.

He headed towards his room. Dark Shadow seemed to be in good spirits. It did not return to Tokoyami's shadow of its own accord, instead choosing to sway merrily and follow him back to his room (still tethered to him, obviously).

“I think that went well~!”

Quite the understatement. Not only were he and Aoyama able to negotiate without it devolving into any sort of vitriol, they came to an agreement that would benefit them both. And in addition, they made arrangements to continue their training outside of their normal classroom hours. Which would only help them in the classroom as well.

He nodded.

“I must agree.”

It was quite fortunate that they had come upon the topic of training. Tokoyami had been meaning to strengthen his own physical capabilities. He already had the Black Ankh and its associated techniques, but he still had much to learn when it came to actual combat. Certainly, there were opponents he could overwhelm with the sheer force of his quirk; but that alone would be of little use against those who could evade and counter his techniques. And he would do well to iron out those shortcomings before he encountered an opponent who could make use of them when he was an actual hero.

There were robots for certain gym facilities that could simulate, but nothing could replace sparring with an actual human. The androids were capable of analyzing a student's patterns and acting accordingly, but they couldn't plan ahead or set traps that weren't already programmed in. And then there was the matter of how restraint was not a necessity against an opponent that could be repaired in a matter of hours with no lasting consequences.

And now he had one.

And they had a set time to practice.

Though he never did ask Aoyama to refrain from telling their peers. Not about the training, of course – he was sure anyone else who found out and wanted to join in their spars would be well welcomed.; but instead Tokoyami's main reason for visiting in the first place. The pact they had made would likely end in death for at least one of them should it have to be followed through. So there was a clearly tacit secondary agreement that should one of them reveal it, that the other would be required to as well. And Tokoyami had already ruminated over those worst-case scenarios much more than any student, studying heroics or not, should have to in the middle of peacetime.

But those would be thoughts best left for another time. They had a plan of action. They were set to carry it out. There was little more that could be done in the meantime. The week would go by the same as any other while he waited.

He was okay with that.

A/N: Just a headcanon, but I think Aoyama's the type to really like fussing over guests.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha fanfics #Tokoyami #Aoyama

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brick-boat-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

“Thanks to you, I’ve became someone who lives up to our dreams.

Don’t give up, okay?”

(on twitter)

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brick-boat-blog · 7 years ago

Text

There’s Only So Much Time

Summary: It's not knowing too much that's the problem.

It's what you do about it.

Word Count: 15.1k

FF.net: Here

AO3: Here

Ch.2: Here

A/N: HEY GUYS GUESS WHOSE BACK IT'S ME I'M ALIVE.

Also this is the official sequel to Get Well Soon, so read that (and Observance) if you haven't already.

The provisional license exam had come and gone.

Almost everyone in Class A passed, her included. It was tough doing it as first years grouped with second and third, but they all managed to get past the first round. And the two who failed the second were going to take remedial lessons (and definitely going to pass, because it was Bakugou and Todoroki, for crying out loud).

So they celebrated accordingly. Instead of cooking or eating whatever was in the fridge, they ordered pizza and chowed down. Sero threw on a movie. Satou whipped up some desserts. Everyone chatted and talked about the test and what they were going to do with their licenses now that they had them. An outside observer probably would've thought it was just a written test, with all the energy they still had.

But after an hour or two they began to trickle out. Some of them wanted to call their parents and friends outside U.A.. Others just reached the end of their second wind. The more polite stayed to clean up and put away their leftovers before heading to bed. And after the movie ended, the last remaining few got up and trudged upstairs, leaving the common area empty.

And the minuted ticked by. Everyone was back in their rooms, including Jirou. She was in her pajamas, laying on her bed and scrolling through Facebook. Her body was exhausted, but her mind hadn't caught up; so she went to her go-to time-waster. It was either that or study; and she knew what she didn't want to be doing right now.

So, phone it was.

Said phone was specially designed to have two audio jacks in it, and she had a lobe stuck in each one. The music playing didn't completely drown out the surrounding noise, but it was loud enough that she could at least ignore it. Given how it was the middle of the night, and that everyone was in bed, and that everyone the building was a teenager, there were definitely certain things that would go on that she did not need to know about. And she'd like to keep it that way.

If there was one thing she missed about living with her folks, it was the healthy layer of sound insulation in every wall and floor of the house. There was obviously the padding behind the drywall and soundboards under the floors in the dorms that let everyone live together without having to hear each other's every move, but there weren't any measures to stop her from hearing those things. U.A. knew how far her quirk reached ever since told everyone about All Might's sickness, and the buildings were only put up a few weeks ago. So it was pretty weird that they'd leave it so open: They were able to soundproof certain areas of the school now, so why not just build that soundproofing directly into the dorms as a whole?

Heck, why not just put it in her room?

There was also the fact that she was on the third floor with no one underneath her, and in the closest room to the elevator. Someone had to be the one staying in that room, obviously. And all the rooms could have just been randomly assigned. But if it was, it'd be a real coincidence that room to the one person who could hear a stranger sneak in on the first floor. Especially since it would let her take less time to get there than any of the other girls.

But, there were no intruders. And hopefully there would never be any intruders. U.A. had some of the best security in the entire country: If someone even tried to pass through the front gates they'd get chomped by the doors. And there was probably some measure to stop anyone who tried to scale or jump over the wall circling the campus. Even with the spike in crime, her and the other students were safer than ever.

Man, why was she thinking like that? Must've been the fatigue. Pretty sure she wasn't the only one whose mind went to weird places when she needed sleep.

Anyway, the only things she ever heard were the sounds of everyone's daily routines. On her side, none of the girls made much noise – something she really appreciated. Hagakure would chat with her friends from middle school. Tsuyu would check in on her siblings. Ashido would play video games (instead of studying, which made her grades no surprise). Nothing to worry about.

And the boys weren't much different. Iida would study. Kouda would play with his rabbit. Tokoyami would read or talk with his quirk. Mineta would... well... she wasn't sure, actually; his dorm was a weird dead zone and any sound that came from it was extremely muffled. She wondered what the heck he could possibly be doing in there that would have that effect.

Er- best not to think too hard about it.

But regardless, the fact of the matter is that she could listen in on pretty much everything that happened in the building if she really wanted to. And she had to take her own precautions to not hear something she shouldn't by accident. Which was kinda ridiculous considering where they were.

Also rude. They weren't in the main school building. They were home. They should be able to let their guards down without having to worry about someone potentially listening in on their every move and conversation. Kaminari was still the only one who knew just how far her hearing extended (kinda surprising, actually, given how much of a chatterbox he was), and even he didn't know she could hear them all there. She told him before the training camp incident that there were certain areas of the school she couldn't hear anymore; he probably assumed the dorms were the same way now. And she wasn't going to tell him otherwise if she could help it.

She glanced at the time. She should really stop thinking. It was already 23:27. They had to get up for the start of the new semester tomorrow and she was already gonna be tired. Better not make it any worse.

So she put the phone up on the headboard shelf.

She'd already taken a headcount, and no one left the building after.

Everyone was accounted for.

There was nothing to worry about.

She could go to sleep now.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and drifted off in a sea of melodies.

–

She wasn't sure how much later it was when she woke up.

Or why, for that matter. Jirou wasn't the heaviest sleeper, but she was used to the sounds people would make throughout the night. Her brain would filter it out with the rest of the ambient noise. You'd think the extra fatigue from the license exam would have her out cold.

But she wasn't. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her phone was still playing. She unplugged her jacks and pressed them to the wall. There had to be something out of the ordinary.

And there they were: footsteps on the first floor.

That would do it. Everyone was supposed to be on the second floor or above this late at night. They had their own bathroom. They had their own fridge. Not to mention they (her included) were all exhausted from the test today There was no reason for anyone to be down there now.

And based on the gait, their owner was... Bakugou?

...

What?

Why?

Had she missed something earlier? She vaguely remembered him sounding annoyed, but that was Bakugou – he was always annoyed, angry, irritated, or some other adjective in that general area (even if it was a little different different than normal). But she'd paid attention to the movie and conversations she was having over anyone else's. So if there was something else wrong, she didn't know about it.

The steps stopped at the front entrance. He opened it and left, shutting the door behind him.

He went down the cement steps outside, and sat on the bench next to them.

So he wanted some fresh air? Okay. Cool. Kinda weird (seeing as they all had a balcony they could easily use that for), but not the worst thing he could do.

The ding of the elevator grabbed her attention. Another pair of footsteps stepped out onto the first floor.

They belonged to... Midoriya?

Okay, now that was two people who were down there for no reason.

Midoriya walked out and shut the door behind him. He descended the steps as well, but didn't sit next Bakugou. Instead, Bakugou got up, and they began to walk away from the dorm.

What the hell?!

Jirou threw herself off the bed and stumbled out the door to her balcony, almost knocking over her drum set in the process.

Bakugou and Midoriya headed towards the main building. And a few moments later they passed behind the trees. She couldn't see them at that angle. They were out of her line of sight.

But she could hear them, at least.

“Kacchan...! How far are we going?” There wasn't anyone else outside, so it wasn't hard to make out Midoriya's voice in the open air. “We're not supposed to be out at night.”

Bakugou didn't say anything.

“Hey.” Midoriya tried to get his attention again.

Bakugou didn't respond.

Midoriya didn't say anything else.

Jirou considered yelling out at them and asking what the heck was going on. There had to be a reason for it. Even though they weren't sticklers for the rules, it was common sense not to just wander around in the middle of the night, even if they were staying on campus. They had a curfew – no late night strolls allowed. Couldn't they wait until tomorrow?

Actually- where were they going?

They weren't in her field of view anymore, but she could at least hear the general direction they were headed in based on their footsteps. Though that wasn't going to work once they got far-enough away. They weren't in the main building; this was open air. She wouldn't be able to sit back and passively listen in on what was going on – after a certain distance she wouldn't be able to make out what they were saying; a little more, and no more footsteps; a little more, and a light breeze would be all it took to render them essentially invisible.

So what, should she follow them? Kind of extreme; but being on the third floor would let her jump down without hurting herself, given their fall training. She could follow them out of sight easy with no one else on campus walking around. She'd have to actively stalk them, which would mean she'd have to risk getting caught by a security robots patrolling campus.

Hah. What was she, a secret agent? That would never work.

On the other hand, she could just stay at the front of the dorm building. With no one else outside and the walkways being connected, she could easily plug into the cement and follow their movements wherever they went, even if she couldn't hear what they said.

But what would even be the point? It wasn't like they were going to leave campus (she hoped – the front gate would probably stop them).

And whatever the reason was they left the dorms – to talk or train or fight or whatever; it was something so private that they would risk getting in trouble just to have no one else around. It'd probably be for the best that they didn't have anyone spying on them.

She leaned against the railing. A small breeze passed through. It felt nice, but she wasn't sure why she didn't just go back inside.

Explosions began to sound off in the distance. Probably from Bakugou. If she was right, they were at one of the training grounds – but all she could say for certain was that they weren't in or around the main building. Also that they were fighting. Because why else would Bakugou be letting explosions loose in the middle of the night.

But that scuffle wasn't what put her on edge moments later.

It was that another person left the dorms.

She honed in on the person's footsteps, but the muffling from the dirt and the echo between the buildings made it hard to tell who they came from. It was probably an adult, and probably headed to the same place Midoriya and Bakugou were at. Because they were off fighting in the dead of night outside the dorms for some reason. Which was a stupid move seeing as how there was, y'know, security (probably what tipped off the adult in the first place).

Her money was on the teacher being Aizawa-sensei. He was the homeroom teacher, so it had to be him. And if there was any chance she was gonna run over there and warn them, there wasn't anymore. Sorry guys, but she wasn't gonna risk getting caught in-person too.

Should she call one of their phones? Did they even have them? Would they answer even if they did? They seemed a bit preoccupied at the moment. And that's not even getting into the fact that whatever they were doing was private-enough to warrant going halfway across campus. And they probably didn't want anyone to know.

Especially since the likelihood that it was just Bakugou being mad that Midoriya got a license was next to nothing. He hadn't been that petty for a long time. And the more she thought about it, there more obvious it was that something had changed with him since the Kamino incident. He yelled less. He kept his anger under control. He didn't even relish his wins too much anymore. He just trained and trained and trained as if he were desperate to get stronger.

It wasn't hard to imagine why.

Midoriya was different too, but in a more subtle way that was hard to explain. He was always dedicated to getting stronger, but now there was a more frantic edge to him when he trained. And a small creeping air of anxiety hung around him. There was no more Symbol of Peace. Midoriya was too young to immediately take his place. But he was trying to get their as fast as he could, and it wasn't hard to see when you knew what to look for.

And fighting one of the strongest kids in class would be one of the best ways to do that, right?

But wasn't Bakugou was the one to call Midoriya out?

That's why Midoriya asked where they were going.

But wouldn't that mean...?

No.

She squeezed the rail.

She clenched her teeth.

This wasn't her business.

It wasn't her problem.

It would be for the best if she just went back inside and pretended she never heard anything.

And she was about to do just that when the adult's silhouette came into view.

Light from the streetlamp quickly revealed who it was.

…

All Might?

She lowered her head just below the top of the railing, and peered through the small space between it and the wall underneath.

Her brows furrowed.

This had to mean something.

All Might shouldn't be the one to go out and discipline them. It was the homeroom teacher's job. That's what the rules said. Iida read them out to everyone their first night together.

Aizawa-sensei was supposed to be the one going out there.

But he wasn't.

It was All Might.

Midoriya's mentor.

They were mentor and successor.

Now there was Bakugou.

But why Bakugou? Bakugou didn't have anything to do with this.

Sure, they were childhood friends. But he was adamant about Midoriya being quirkless.

So that meant he didn't know anything, right?

Then why was All Might going out there?

She wanted to go down and talk to him. She wanted ask what the hell was going on. This wasn't normal. Fights in the middle of the night weren't normal. Going to the other side of campus for no reason wasn't normal. Getting retrieved by someone who wasn't your homeroom teacher wasn't normal.

None of this normal.

Yet here they were.

And she wanted to know why.

But the conversation she and All Might had before flashed through her memory.

She promised she wouldn't listen around anymore, and she'd already broken her word more times than she could count since then. She kept scouting. She kept listening in on conversations. She just hadn't gotten caught.

So what would happen if she talked to him now-

All Might stopped.

Jirou's breath hitched.

He looked back in her direction.

She ducked.

The balcony was a part of her room, so she wasn't out 'past curfew'. But that didn't mean it was good to just stay up all night. Especially when they had that exam. Especially when the next semester was going to start in a matter of hours.

If she was lucky, that would be the only scolding she'd get.

Because All Might wasn't stupid.

He'd be able to put two and two together.

And they both knew she wasn't a part of this.

And they both knew it should stay that way.

She just hoped to god he didn't see her.

She heard footsteps. All Might had begun walking again.

Jirou let out a huge sigh of relief, and lifted her head back over the rail just in time to see him disappear into the trees like the other two did. He went down the same path towards the main building. It probably wouldn't take him too long to get there.

She used one arm as a pillow and let the other dangle out in front of her.

She could still hear the small echo of explosions.

Minutes passed. They continued on.

And then they stopped.

Well it was gonna have to at some point.

Either they finished their fight, or All Might stopped them. But regardless, it was over.

So they were going to come back.

And they'd probably see her before she saw them.

So she should make herself scarce while she still had the chance.

So she got up.

The small rush of adrenaline wore off.

She yawned.

She should go back to bed already.

So she went back inside.

And she slid the door shut behind her.

–

Jirou had just about fallen asleep again when the front door opened.

She unplugged one of her jacks from the phone and listened in. Only two people entered: Midoriya and Bakugou. Their steps were a lot heavier than when they left, but it was unmistakably them. All Might must've gone back to the teacher's dorm.

They made a beeline for the elevator, not stopping to do anything else on the way. Whatever they needed to leave the dorms to do, it looked like it got finished. They didn't say anything as they got onto the elevator.

Midoriya got off with a “Goodnight, Kacchan”. Bakugou didn't say anything in return, but got off himself two floors later.

They both entered their respective rooms. They both got in their respective beds.

The dorm building returned to its most quiet state: Nothing but the sound of AC and everyone's snoring.

No one had entered or left besides Midoriya and Bakugou.

So now everyone was inside and accounted for. All the others were sound asleep. No one else was going to enter. No one else was going to leave.

It was a small weight off her chest she didn't even know she had, though she wasn't sure why it would be there in the first place. U.A. was probably the safest place in the country they could be right now. Even if someone decided to run laps around the outer ring of campus or sit just inside the gate for hours on end, there was no chance any villain would attack them.

The only kind of trouble they could get in was the kind they caused themselves.

And Jirou was okay with that.

–

It was the start of the next semester. Classes were gonna start up again like normal.

Midoriya and Bakugou were under house arrest. The story was that they fought for some reason, and they were caught by one of the patrol bots on campus. So now they had to spend the next couple days inside cleaning the common areas.

Fair enough. It could've been worse.

They still had minor scuffs and bruises too, though they weren't allowed to go to see Recovery Girl unless there was an emergency. Sucked to be them, though the others still wondered why they would feel the need to fight right after they had a big exam. Because of that, they'd have to miss the first few days of classes. Way to go, guys. A+ planning right there.

But it did seem to be for the best. Both Midoriya and Bakugou seemed to have a weight off their chests now. And it looks like that fight did the trick. Could it have been resolved without violence? Maybe. But there was nothing they could do about it now.

Jirou yawned. How the heck were those two were still so energetic? She didn't even fight and she was still bushed.

Everyone else (her included) went to the opening ceremony at Ground Beta. They ran in to Class B and some of the gen ed kids on the way, but nothing out of the ordinary happened; though Sero pointed out that Shinsou guy Midoriya fought in the tournament seemed different. Jirou wasn't surprised seeing as how the guy was getting one-on-one training from Aizawa-sensei of all people (she vaguely wondered how many other people knew about that).

The assembly went on like normal too. All the students stood still and silent as the principal spoke (while trying not to fall asleep, as far as Jirou was concerned).

Well- except Kaminari, who puffed the hair on the end of Ojiro's tail for some reason. The sound made her grimace – it was annoying, not to mention it was clearly making Ojiro uncomfortable. Plus they were supposed to be listening to the principal's speech (not that she could distract herself even if she wanted to).

Jirou gave him a look to cut it out. Now really wasn't the time.

Kaminari glared back.

The fluffing intensified.

God dammit.

But the speech soon ended. There was a mention of internships, which she was curious about (though it seemed to just be something they'd be doing next year). Then Hound Dog-sensei made a whole ton of growling noises as a speech of his own. Class B's homeroom teacher translated it. It was about an 'incident between two students' the night before.

Man, they were really making an example of Midoriya and Bakugou, weren't they. Didn't look like the other classes had any idea it was them, though. That was good.

And with the assembly over, they were released to head single-file to their classrooms. It was a few minutes before Class A got the chance to go. And when it was finally their turn, they passed by All Might and No. 13.

Most everyone gave their teachers a small glance in passing. Jirou let hers linger a little too long.

It was hard to believe that form really was permanent. With all his muscles gone, he looked almost like a skeleton. Most people seemed to think that his condition was a result of the Kamino fight, and apparently a few of her classmates had even asked if he was going to come out of retirement 'when he got better'. Jirou was surprised that he'd been able to keep the fact that he'd been that way for the whole school year (if not longer) hush hush.

All Might coughed. A small trail of blood escaped the corner of his mouth. He quickly wiped it away. He'd been careful to never look sick it in front of them before the incident. Now he still avoided it, but there would be covered coughs once in awhile when he thought no one was looking.

She turned her head to pay attention to whatever was in front of her. She shouldn't stare.

Kaminari looked over his shoulder and glared back at her, but didn't say anything.

It wasn't surprising: They hadn't spoken much since they all moved in the dorms together, and even then it was only when they were in a group. But while they didn't talk anymore, they had enough sense to not complain when they had assigned chores or work together in class exercises. Jirou was afraid that even a peep of argument could devolve into one of them spilling something they shouldn't. For all she knew, he felt the same way.

And they were pretty good at it as far as she was concerned: The airs of amiability they put up made it so as far as anyone knew, they were still chummy and that conversation back in the hospital hadn't happened at all.

But Kaminari was still mad, and no amount of forced cheeriness was going to hide it from her.

And it sucked. Jirou did still consider him her friend, and it didn't seem like he hated her. But he was still stuck on her knowing that something was up with All Might ahead of time; and he seemed to get that bugging her for info on the subject wasn't going to get anywhere. But the silent treatment wasn't going to work either.

She wondered how long he was gonna keep it up before finally letting it go.

Seriously, even if she wanted to, what was she even supposed to say? 'Hey Kaminari guess what All Might's gonna die and there's nothing we can do about it oh and also he gave his quirk to Midoriya don't ask how it's possible just roll with it'? No. She didn't have enough hours in a day to explain just how stupid of an idea that was. Plus it wouldn't even accomplish anything beyond stressing him out since, again, there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

Not to mention she hadn't even told Midoriya what she knew – y'know, the guy who was at the center of all this. He got the quirk, he was the successor, and he was gonna have to deal with whatever 'being a successor' entailed after they all graduated (if not sooner). If she was going to spill to anyone, it would be him.

And she wasn't going to. It wasn't her place to do so.

Besides, they all lived on campus now, which was probably the safest place they could be. No villains, no kidnappings, no nothing. Midoriya didn't have to know, Kaminari didn't have to know, and the latter would have to deal with it.

Because things were going to be normal from now on, right?

–

The next morning was like any of the others.

Present Mic was teaching English. Jirou was making an effort to actually take notes. They were learning new grammar points to start off the new semester, and just because she had a knack for language didn't mean she could zone out. The tests themselves with all their weird terms were terrible. And she needed to remember what they meant and how they could change the meaning of a sentence with word order, as much as she hated learning by rote.

Well, she was trying; but her mind kept darting off to random areas of the school.

Class was going on, regardless of the department. And the morning lessons were pretty much the same for each department, if not in the same order. There wasn't really much of a point in listening on other classes' unless she really felt like it (though she had to say, the support department's math teacher made things really easy to understand; her lit notes wound up containing a few completely unrelated sample problems because of it). Sometimes kids would chat in the bathrooms or the halls, but generally she had to wait until the breaks between classes to actually hear anything new.

Instead she subconsciously honed in on the teachers and staff passing through the halls, but even they were mixed bags. After the school staff had learned 'a student' was capable of listening in on their conversations, they were careful with what they said outside the soundproofed areas at first. Nothing about grades, lessons, or other students.

Though after a few weeks, it was like they never heard it in the first place for most of them. Sure, there were certain subjects that teachers only talked about in the break room anyway (since even without Jirou listening, there was a chance that a passing student in the hall could overhear them), but small talk about their families, pets, and the like were all fair game.

Though sometimes they didn't bother waiting until they were somewhere 'safe'. Jirou was okay with that-

All Might's phone rang.

He was headed to the nurse's office from the staff room, which seemed to be a daily occurrence at this point. It was the same route he always used, and the ringtone gave him away if nothing else. Though it was weird he got a call. Anyone who needed him in school knew where he'd be, and it wasn't like he got fan-calls or the like ever. So who could it be?

He fished the phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen.

“Ah- Good morning, Tsukauchi.” Huh. Tsukauchi was the detective that took everyone's statements after the USJ incident, right? Why would he be calling? “Any news?”

And it looked like All Might kept in touch with him, given that question.

All Might didn't make any attempt to get in the nurse's office before continuing. Jirou wondered if he forgot about her ability, or if maybe he just trusted her not to listen around the main building anymore.

A small pang of guilt in her twisted at that, but she didn't make any effort to focus on something else.

“We believe we've found a lead on the location of one of All-for-One's facilities. I have people looking into it as we speak.”

All-for-One... That was the guy All Might fought during the Kamino tragedy.

He was in prison. It was all over the news and everything.

So why were they still investigating him? Obviously he wasn't an average villain (All Might's retirement said it all), but 'multiple facilities'? What was he, Lex Luthor? The only other people she could think of that worked to that scale were the yakuza, and even then it was only rumors.

“Any word on...?” All Might's voice didn't crack, but there was a distinct wariness in it that said he wouldn't be happy with either possibly answer.

“There's been some reported sightings of his associates, but nothing of Shigaraki himself.”

Shigaraki?

She remembered that name from the USJ incident too. And that time he 'talked' to Midoriya at the mall. Him and All-for-One being connected made sense, now that she thought about it. And it explained those fluid-filled tanks Yaoyorozu mentioned seeing in one of the buildings when her group went to rescue Bakugou. Though it was weird that All Might was keeping tabs on the rest on his gang now that their leader was gone. Didn't organizations like that usually fall apart pretty quick after the kingpin got arrested?

“What about Gran Torino?”

Who?

“He's out following a lead of his own at the moment. I can take a message, if you want.”

Okay so Gran Torino was one of the good guys. Probably a hero by the sound of it. She'd have to look him up later. Maybe during break.

“No, that's alright. Just give him my regards the next time you see him.”

They talked for a few more minutes after that. All Might asked after Tsukauchi's department – they were all doing well, though the paperwork following the increase in crime was a nightmare. Tsukauchi asked after Midoriya (okay, so that was another person in on the All Might's Successor Conspiracy™; good to know; she should start making a list) and how All Might was doing in his retirement: All Might assured him that both he and Midoriya were doing fine, and even mentioned how proud he was that almost all the first-years managed to get their hero licenses.

It was an overall pleasant conversation. Listening in on it made Jirou feel one part calm relief, one part interest, and five parts shredding guilt for not even trying to keep her promise.

The two adults said their goodbyes. All Might ended the call with a tap. A minute later and he was in the nurse's office.

Jirou looked down at her paper. She'd stopped taking notes awhile ago.

She looked up at the board. Present Mic was already erasing it.

Great.

She grimaced. She'd have to ask someone for their notes later. Probably Yaoyorozu – she never asked why Jirou would occasionally miss whole chunks of the class notes. And she was so good at tutoring that Jirou was sure that she could come straight to U.A. as a teacher if heroing didn't work out for her (as much as Jirou didn't like thinking like that)

But regardless, there was something way more concerning on her mind now: If All Might was retired, still keeping tabs with the police on that investigation, and even getting calls from a police officer himself...

What else was there?

–

The next day came with the end of Midoriya's house arrest. He'd come back more energetic than ever. Maybe all that time with Bakugou rubbed off on him; he was ready to power back into their lessons and catch up so fast he might as well have never fallen behind in the first place.

And with that came with an introduction of the top 3 seniors in their school. Which was supposed to be an introduction to internships. Except instead of just talking about internships, it just wound up being a class-wide match against Togata-senpai that ended in him handing all their asses to them on a silver platter.

Fun times.

Jirou's stomach still stung; her lobes too: She actually didn't know they could stretch that far, which made it all the harder to untie them after that battle (not that Kaminari was any help; jerk). She'd have to keep that in mind for the future, plus how squishy she still seemed to be compared to everyone else (she wasn't in outright pain, but she would've gone to Recovery Girl after they were let out had anyone else decided to as well).

But it was okay. She'd probably be fine tomorrow. All she had to do was sleep it off.

Which was why she was in bed while the other girls talked about internships on the first floor.

Man. Internships.

She could probably do one if she really wanted to, but she was still on the fence about it. On one hand, she'd get to do more hands-on stuff than what she did during her field training; Destegoro really drilled in the importance of getting stronger into her, but he never let her do anything dangerous (though it was still harder than anything she did in class). On the other, she had two more years to do it. And it wasn't even mandatory. Plus she'd still have to keep up with school work. And she liked having Sundays off.

But lack of free time aside, her hero office still probably wouldn't expect her to get her hands too dirty if she went back to them (being a kid and all), but wouldn't she just get in the way if she couldn't even do that? Destegoro said heroes had practice and train constantly, but here she was just sitting on her bed doing nothing. And she pretty much never did any extra training outside of class unless there was some kind of test or event coming up.

And honestly, it was beginning to show.

Because how could she expect to do her job right if she couldn't even take a few punches and getting her ears yanked? Togata-senpai was as strong as some pro heroes and she was still a freshman, so it made sense for them to have that big of a difference in strength. But there was always a chance that the villains she'd run into would be just as strong. And she wasn't sure she'd be able to take down even those thugs from USJ on her own, much less anyone more high-profile.

And what if someone got hurt because of that? Or worse?

...

Ugh.

This wasn't getting her anywhere.

At this rate, she was gonna start thinking in circles and just stress herself out.

What she needed was sleep.

If she couldn't even do that, she might as well distract herself until she got tired.

She grabbed her phone and swiped it open. Nothing a little mindless scrolling couldn't help.

But then she heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Huh? Internship?! Who the heck is this?!”

It came from a cellphone on the second floor, most likely from Midoriya's room. It sounded like an old guy.

She really should've just ignored it, or at least forced herself to listen to music off her phone instead. But there was something about new voices in a sea of ones she knew that practically forced her eavesdrop out of habit. (Hagakure would probably freak out if she knew all the things Jirou had heard her talk about with her friends those first few nights in the dorms.)

“I was, well... wondering if you'd take me on, Gran Torino.”

That name again.

“You never write, you never call. Guess you're too much of a big shot now, huh, kid?!” What was this guy, Midoriya's granddad? But he never mentioned being related to any heroes. Plus he was calling him by his hero name. Scratch that it was dumb for her to even consider it.

“Anyway, sorry. I'm working on a case. Can't help you out.” That one the cop was talking to All Might about, right? Guess Midoriya didn't know anything about it.

Gran Torino continued.

“Yeah, I see how it is! You weren't scouted by anyone but me after the sports festival. You may be next in line, but you're still just a baby!”

Another successor line dropped. So this Gran Torino guy was in on it too. Just how many people were there?

“It's exactly because I'm inexperienced that I'll do whatever it takes to be the top hero.” Midoriya was the successor, so it was obvious his end goal was to reach All Might's level.

Everyone in class wanted to make it big to some degree, but only Bakugou made a point of saying he was gonna make it to the top. Jirou vaguely wondered how much of Midoriya's goal to get that far was his own, and how much of it was because of the shoes he had to fill.

“No need to get all dramatic when stating the obvious.” Gran Torino ended that sentence with a chuckle.

“If that's all it's about, why not have a chat with your mentor?” All Might would be the best option, wouldn't he. “He's supposedly giving it all as an educator, nowadays.”

“But Aizawa-sensei told us to use out connections from the sports festival to...”

“Which is all well and good for those who've got 'em.” Ouch. That had to sting. “All Might can open all sorts of doors for you.” She almost expected him to leave Midoriya at that before he continued:

“Like with his former sidekick...”

Sidekick...?

He did have one a while ago, didn't he – back when Jirou was still in elementary school. He was called Sir... something. He didn't spend too much time in the limelight; and she didn't remember him getting any merch either, which was pretty weird considering whose sidekick he was.

But they split up years ago, didn't they? A few kids talked about it the day the news broke. And it was covered in all the tabloids. But after that, he completely dropped off the radar. And made no attempt to get back on.

And it was pretty weird that this old guy was the one to suggest the idea, rather that All Might himself. If Sir Whatshisface was really able to give him an internship why didn't he just do it before when they had that field training?

Did they even keep in touch? All Might wasn't the type to bad-mouth people, but he hadn't mentioned Sir once throughout the entire school year.

Actually- for being the greatest hero in Japan, he really didn't share too many stories in general. Once in awhile he'd give them a small anecdote about a time where he had an experience similar to the exercise they were learning about, but that was it. Never any of the big stuff, though.

So why would Midoriya only get his sidekick as an option now?

And the way he said it so casually – who was this guy? All Might mentioned him before. Midoriya had field training with him.

Gran Torino... That was his name, right? She opened up a new tab in her browser and typed it in. The results were all about some old movie with the same name. Nothing about the hero himself. No website or anything. Adding 'hero' to the query didn't help; that just got her info on the movie plot. Adding '-movie' didn't either; that gave her a bunch of restaurants, pictures of cars, and archived band sites from over a hundred years ago.

She grimaced.

It was going to be a long night.

–

The next day was by all accounts normal: Normal classes. Normal lessons. Normal break-time conversations too (though she didn't have anyone to share the school gossip with anymore). Everything fell back into routine in the new semester without any real trouble.

People trickled down to the cafeteria when the clock struck 12:30. Class A was no exception. Aoyama would usually waltz out first (being the closest to the door), and everyone else would follow at their leisure. Some would head out on their own after putting their stuff away. Others would wait for a friend or two and leave as a group. There wasn't really any rush to get down there ASAP, so it could be a couple minutes before everyone cleared out.

Jirou herself was usually one of the last ones to go. There wasn't any real reason – she just took a few extra seconds to put her stuff away and wasn't in any particular rush to stuff her face. Although now she usually left with Yaoyorozu, the latter often getting questions from a classmate or two about the lessons they had that morning. Today was no different; everyone followed their normal routine.

Though there was one exception.

Midoriya usually left with Iida, Todoroki, and maybe Uraraka; but he told them not to wait up for him this time.

He'd been antsy all morning. And then he made a beeline for the staff room. It wasn't hard to put two and two together and figure it was because of that phone conversation yesterday. His pace said it all, and so did the way he shut the door behind him.

Jirou let her focus linger around that area. It was lunch time. The teachers needed to eat too. She knew some just ate their lunch in the staff room, but others would go down to the cafeteria with the students.

And Ectoplasm did just that a minute later: He opened the door just long-enough to let her hear All Might ask where Midoriya had hear Sir Nighteye's name, though it was really muffled by the rest of the sound insulation.

And then he shut it, leaving Jirou pretty much right where she started.

Her gaze was only half focused as she and Yaoyorozu finally entered the cafeteria. Those extra couple minutes they spent in the classroom let the lines get long. A few kids like Tsuyu made their own lunch, but most of them would wait and grab one of the options the school offered; and Jirou was no exception.

So she let her body operate on autopilot and followed Yaoyorozu to the ramen line. Another couple minutes passed. No one else left the staff room. And all the noise around her now was threatening to break her concentration. Or at least give her one hell of a headache.

Lunch was probably her least-favorite part of the day, to be honest. The whole school crammed onto the first floor for it, which meant hundreds of conversations in the same room reverberating off the walls all at once. And yet she could barely make any out individually. The irony was not lost on her.

And with the passing time, more kids had their food and started conversations as they sat at the lunch tables. She furrowed her brows as the room got louder. It was hard-enough to keep an ear on an actual person with all this noise – a silent space was near impossible. Heck, the only reason she still had a fix on that one location was that she'd kept most of her mental energy on it; though at this point she wasn't even sure if she'd be able to make anything out if the door did open again.

Well, there was only one way to find out-

“Jirou-san? Are you feeling alright?”

God dammit.

She snapped back to reality. Yaoyorozu's voice had a edge of concern to it. Jirou must've had her resting bitch face on without realizing it again.

“Oh yeah I'm fine.” She slapped on a sheepish smile over it, like she wasn't totally just stalking one of her classmates around the building. “Just thinking about some stuff. No biggie.”

Wait. No. She didn't mean to say it like that.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Nah it's no big deal.” Jirou scratched the back of her head. “Just trying to make sense outta that English class earlier. We're learning all those new grammar bits, y'know?”

And she just tried to use her best subject as an excuse. Real smooth.

Man, today was just great, wasn't it. She needed to get some food in her stomach and fast.

“We are learning quite a lot, aren't we.” Yaoyorozu nodded and crossed her arms. Jirou's screw-up seemed to fly right over her head. Good. “Are there some points you're having trouble understanding?”

“I'm good. I'm good.” Jirou shrugged. “I think I'll get it soon-enough. I just gotta memorize it all first.”

She really didn't like lying, but there weren't really any other options right now.

“That's good.” Yaoyorozu smiled. She didn't seem to notice. “Though if you change your mind, I'd be happy to study with you again.”

“Duly noted. And I might just take you up on that offer later.”

The line moved quick as usual. They got their food and moved to a pair of empty seats near the window. The places where people sat for lunch never completely set, but after a semester everyone had a general area they preferred. Yaoyorozu was one of the kids who tended to float to different tables, and Jirou followed her in turn.

Satou was at the table of the day, as well as a trio of kids Jirou was pretty sure were in the business department. There was some conversation about some power point Class 1-J had to do, about the logistics of running a hero office. Satou nodded that the seats were free – he'd probably have said it if he didn't have a mouthful of rice.

So they took them. Yaoyorozu jumped in on the bizkid conversation as soon as she had an idea of what was going on. They seemed happy to explain the the little things she didn't know about. Satou was lost, though Yaoyorozu's questions seemed to help a little. Jirou focused on her food – or that's at least what she hoped it looked like.

Try as she might, she couldn't latch back onto that thread she had earlier; there was so much noise in the cafeteria that she couldn't even focus on the hallways just outside it. She might've been able to if she hadn't been interrupted, but clawing her way back would probably be impossible without looking like she was about to murder someone.

Maybe she could if she'd sat right next to the exit, but it was too late for that.

So she slurped her ramen, and waited for the hour to end.

–

The rest of the day passed without anything else happening.

Most everyone went straight back to the dorms after the last class let out (Jirou was no exception), and the last few made it back in time for dinner. Then they dispersed to get their baths out of the way.

And after that, Jirou found herself in Uraraka's room with the rest of the girls. Everyone had math homework to do, and Jirou asked if Yaoyorozu was still up for tutoring while they were all bathing, which led to Ashido asking (begging) to let her come too, which turned into Hagakure asking as well, which turned into the other two getting roped in to make it a girls' night.

And since Uraraka's room was the least-cluttered out of all of theirs, the majority decided it would be the best one to use. Thankfully she didn't seem to mind not having a say in the matter.

The plan was to get their stuff done before chatting and whatnot. As fun as it would be to just sit around and put it off, that would just mean staying up later. Which meant less sleep altogether. And even if they weren't doing anything too tiring tomorrow, they were still winded from today.

So aside from the occasional question tossed around, the only sounds coming from them were breathing, pencil scratching, and the turning of textbook pages.

And Jirou wasn't any different. Normally she'd listen to music to drown out the surrounding noise, but something studying in a group let her not need to. The noises immediately around her were what she unconsciously paid attention to. Whatever the boys were doing was just background noise. She could tell there were a few conversations, but nothing was being said that caught her attention; so it all just got filtered out.

But it didn't do anything to affect her thoughts, which kept distracting her. Again.

Midoriya had run to the staff room (not weird). He was even more antsy after he got back from lunch (also not weird, given that it was Midoriya). But then he went to the nap room with Togata-senpai after class let out, and All Might had gotten there before them (okay kinda weird). Jirou didn't stick around to listen in on them, though; said room was another dead zone.

(She vaguely wondered at the time if she'd be able to hear anything if she plugged her jacks into the door.)

(It also occurred to her that she was getting kind of creepy about it.)

(Good thing no one in the school had a mind-reading quirk.)

But when Midoriya back to the dorms, he was in a noticeably better mood. It didn't take much to put two and two together and figure out he got the job: An internship with All Might's former sidekick, Sir Nighteye. Given yesterday's talk, she'd be surprised if it was anyone but him.

Which made sense. He was the successor, so he was going to be raised and treated like one. Learning from the people closest to his mentor was probably the best thing he could do. Especially since they were one ones that knew the most about his quirk. And that would let him grow as fast as he could.

Because there was a void in the world of heroes now.

That was because All Might had retired.

Which meant there was no “symbol of peace” to deter crime anymore.

The guy who was the kingpin of that whole Villain Alliance nonsense was in prison.

But Shigaraki was still free.

And the Villain Alliance still existed.

And the police were still investigating them.

To the point that All Might kept in contact with one of the officers and got updates on it.

And the hero Midoriya had done his field training with was investigating it too.

So now Midoriya was going to be interning under the only sidekick All Might ever had.

But the Villain Alliance was still a threat.

U.A. could very well get attacked again.

And that's why they kept all the students on campus as much as possible – it was the safest thing they could do.

Though they weren't in any immediate danger, to the point that no one was gonna escort Bakugou and Todoroki to their supplemental lessons. And while none of the other kids were supposed to leave during the weekdays willy nilly, the weekends were fair game so long as they told someone where they were going (and told a teacher if they weren't going to be in the surrounding area at all).

Jirou twirled a pencil between her fingers. There were a ton of gaps in her knowledge, but it couldn't be helped. She'd already decided not to go to Midoriya about it. He didn't even know about All Might's health failing. It'd stand to reason that he wouldn't know anymore than she did. And asking him about it might end in her telling him things he wasn't supposed to know yet.

And that was the worst part, really. Jirou was just a regular student with no real stake in whatever crazy conspiracy was going on. She shouldn't know any of this. Not even the teachers did. The only people on campus with more info than her were Recovery Girl and the principal. And it's not like she could just waltz into their respective offices and start asking questions about things even Mr. Successor himself wasn't aware of.

She glanced at the girls around her. Talking to her classmates would just drag them into something way over all their heads that the couldn't even do anything about. And even assuming they would all keep their lips sealed, how the hell were they supposed to prepare for something like this? Form some kind of League of Heroes™ and hope for the best? When it wasn't even a guarantee Shigaraki and his gang would rise to prominence again?

And what about All Might? He lied to her before, and doing it again was the best outcome she could expect. But she was sure if he told anyone, she'd wind up on some kind of list and be considered extra baggage for sticking her nose where it didn't belong. Because while she wasn't a useless and weak (at least, she hoped so), all it would take was one slip-up to ruin everything.

Same thing would probably happen if she went to the police. Plus she'd be interrogated and they might even think she was a villain. Or her parents too. And then if the tabloids got in on it they could say goodbye to their musical careers. God why would she even think of doing that.

Sir Nighteye too. What was she supposed to do, stalk Midoriya there and demand to get interned too? Even if somehow the stars aligned and that worked, what was she supposed to do about other people in that hero office asking questions? And how the heck was she supposed to keep up with the workload and school? There was no way she'd be able to do that.

And more importantly, there was no way she'd be able to ask any of them about that.

But what if about...

“Ah- Are you having difficulty with a problem, Jirou-san?”

Yaoyorozu snapped her out of that line of thought. Jirou looked down. She'd stopped moving her pencil mid-equation.

“Oh no sorry.” Jirou slapped on a sheepish smile. “I just kinda spaced out. My bad.”

She really needed to stop doing that.

And she needed to get her work done.

So she could get back to her room.

Because there was there was something else she had to check.

She got back to doing her homework, and ignored the growing pit in her stomach.

–

Jirou missed having Saturdays off.

But that's what you got when going to U.A., especially when you were in the hero department. They had 6 classes when the others only had to go to 4. Lucky.

Thankfully the teachers were nice enough not to assign a ton of homework on that day. After all, Sunday was their day to rest up; no one wanted to have to deal with burnout, especially when they were just freshmen. And that meant they were home free after they got out on Saturday.

So clearly lazing around in bed was the best way to use that free time.

And that's just what Jirou was doing.

The girls had already finished taking their baths. Most of the guys were done or just about done with theirs. No one made too much noise; everyone got the bath time horsing around out of their systems weeks ago. A few of them made calls their parents (Jirou had just finished one with hers).

No one had any plans to do anything tonight, even if it was the weekend. Sero was gonna pop a movie in the common area TV at 21:00, and anyone could join in if they wanted to – but that was about it. His normal crew would definitely be there. Oftentimes more than a few of their other classmates were there too – Jirou included. She on the fence about doing it this time, though. She had to get up early tomorrow.

The elevator dinged as Midoriya and Mineta got off together. They usually got off together. Probably because they lived on the same floor.

But before either of them could enter their dorms, Mineta stopped in front of his door and asked Midoriya a question:

“Oh yeah- You goin' to Yaomomo's study party tomorrow?”

There'd already been a class-wide text sent out about it, but there wasn't any pressure to RSVP. A few of the guys had caught wind of the girls' study session last night and decided they wanted in on that, so they asked (begged) Yaoyorozu to let them study with her. A few more heard about it, and at that point she figured she might as well invite everyone.

“Ah- sorry. I'm going off-campus tomorrow.”

“Why?” Mineta leaned against his door. “You got some kinda hot date I don't know about?”

“No! Nothing like that!” Jirou could practically see Midoriya flailing arms. “I'm gonna be doing an internship.”

Yep.

“Say what?! You're actually doing that?”

“Well... I gotta to get all the experience I can, y'know?”

“Not with the guy you went with before, I hope.” Mineta huffed with exasperation. “I worry about you, you know.”

“I don't think I'll have to worry about anything like running into Stain again, if that's what you mean.” Midoriya chuckled, though he clearly didn't wanna go through that again. “But yeah I'm interning with someone else.”

“Good.” A few joints crackled as Mineta stretched his arms. “Not gonna lie, though. I'm kinda jealous.”

“Couldn't you ask Mt. Lady to take you back?”

“Ugh. Don't remind me.” Even a couple months later, he'd never said what had actually happened to him during his field training. Though the general consensus was that he probably deserved it.

“Well, there's always next year, right?”

“I guess. That's what everyone else's thinking.”

A few more exchanges and their conversation was over. They went in their respective rooms. The elevator went back down to pick up Satou and Sero.

Jirou stuck her jacks in her phone.

Pretty much everyone in class had considered getting an internship. They'd already gotten their licenses, so it was the logical next step.

But as far as she could tell, most of them weren't going to.

And she was no exception. It was pretty much unheard of for first years to do internships – usually it was just their field training and that's it. Doing an internship meant working on top of a full course load, with no breaks in between. Seniors would have a tough time balancing them; freshmen even moreso.

Plus Aizawa said to use the contacts they all made at the sports festival, but she only had the hero she chose from that roster. Not making it to the final tournament would do that. Her parents could probably hook her up with someone good if she asked (assuming Destegoro wouldn't take her back in), but taking the easy way out wouldn't help her at all in the long run. If anything, she'd just get babied and it'd turn into a glorified field training exercise. So why bother.

Sigh.

She really shouldn't think like that. It wasn't going to get her anywhere.

She wasn't gonna do an internship and that was that. She wasn't ready for it and didn't really care too much. So why bother?

There was always next year. She could do it next year.

Not like anything was gonna happen before that.

...

And it was too late to call Destegoro, anyway.

...

And she had plans tomorrow.

…

Screw it.

She swung he legs off her bed.

It was gonna be a bit before the movie started, but she could hang out with everyone else in the meantime.

–

It was finally Sunday.

It was generally a time to laze and recharge, but not everyone was staying on campus. Bakugou and Todoroki left together early to go to those supplementary lessons they had. Midoriya dashed out a little while later to go to his internship. None of them were gonna have any days off for a while. Brutal.

Beyond those obvious three, there were a few others she wasn't sure about. Uraraka and Kirishima usually didn't get up that early.

And then there was Jirou herself.

As far as she was concerned, days off were days to sleep in. No reason not to when there was nothing she had to do, and living in the dorms meant there wasn't unless they'd planned it beforehand (which no one had, thank god). Sure, there was usually homework; but that could wait. If she was tired and she could help it, she'd spend an extra hour or three all comfy and snug under the covers. And she wouldn't have to think about anything else, which was pretty great.

But, sadly, today was not one of those days. She had stuff to do and she couldn't do it while laying like a lump. The blaring of the cell phone's alarm in her ear was the sign to roll out of bed and get up, as much as she wanted to hit snooze.

So she did a few stretches and threw on something casual yet presentable: Just some black shorts and a purple top. Something she could hit the town with, but versatile enough that she could go talk to someone or even just lounge around the house in – not that it was a big deal what she wore today; she doubted anyone would actually care, and her U.A. wardrobe was pretty casual. It probably wouldn't get her any comments or misread intentions.

Then she grabbed her phone off the bed and swiped it open to her email – she'd messaged Aizawa-sensei before she went to bed last night to say she was going home for the day. A simple 'okay' sat in her inbox with no other questions, so she was in the clear there. If things went south, and least no one could place any blame on him for what he knew.

Then she moved onto her texts. There was one more person she had to tell.

<Yo prez fyi I'm gonna be at my parents' place til tomorrow

He didn't hover over everyone's shoulder, but Iida was usually the first to notice if someone was missing. She noticed he'd always take a quiet headcount during dinner, and ask where any missing persons were if it wasn't something they all knew about beforehand (like that time Tokoyami got stuck on the school roof). No reason to make him worry if she could help it.

Her phone buzzed a few seconds later.

>Thank you, Jirou-kun. Have a safe trip.

And after him, there wasn't anyone else she needed to tell. She already called her parents last night, so no need to text them or anything before she got home. As far as they knew, she was going to be 'going out with friends' and coming home that evening. Hopefully Mom didn't notice anything off about her voice. She was good at catching things like that, but didn't say anything. Jirou didn't know whether to feel relieved or guilty at that. Because she really didn't like lying to them.

She grabbed her bag before she could trail down that line of thought any further and left the room. The first floor was a quick elevator ride away, and she got off just as Kirishima and Tokoyami were about to get on the one for the boys' side.

“Hey Jirou!” Kirishima gave a small wave. Tokoyami gave a small nod.

“Hey guys.” She gave him and Tokoyami a small wave in return. Those two got on their elevator while she headed into the common area.

The first floor was almost empty. Most everyone was still in their rooms: Some asleep, some awake – Tsuyu and Uraraka were the only ones together in one, though. She vaguely wondered what they were up to, but she knew she shouldn't pry.

But in the common area itself, there were only two others. Mineta sat at one of the tables with a bowl of cereal. Kaminari sat across from him with a juice box, scrolling through his phone with his free hand.

Mineta looked up at her.

“Hey Jirou, you're coming to Yaomomo's study party, right?”

“Oh uh- not this time, sorry.” The sudden question stopped her in her tracks, but she was careful not to let it change her expression. “I got plans.” She caught herself before she added any unnecessary info. No need to try and sound suspicious first thing in the morning.

“What, you're going for an internship too?” Haha. No.

“Nah, just going back to my parents house.” She chose not to point out annoyance in his tone. Just how many people did he think were going for them? “I was helping them out with a project before – might as well finish up my part while I still have the time.”

Well, sorta. She did help her parents with their music occasionally. And they'd probably have a jam session at some point when she was with them. It just wasn't the only other thing she would be doing. Which no one else had to know. Because there were way too many ways that could go wrong.

Also, way to add an unnecessary explanation right after concluding that was a bad idea. She mentally facepalmed. Way to go, her.

“'Kay. See you tomorrow.” Mineta just shrugged and lazily waved his spoon at her. They weren't really friends, and didn't talk too much. He wasn't going to press the issue.

So she was in the clear there. Good.

“See ya.” She gave a small wave back and glanced at Kaminari.

He gave her a flat look in return.

But he didn't say anything, thankfully. They hadn't truly spoken one-on-one since he visited her in the hospital, and it looked like he wasn't gonna try and break that streak now. Instead he just sat with his arms crossed. Which she wasn't going to ask about. Because she had plans and the train wasn't gonna wait for her.

Though even if she wasn't busy, she wasn't going to be the one to try and start a conversation if he was going to keep being so moody whenever she was around.

So instead she walked to the exit without saying anything more, and pretended that she didn't feel his eyes follow her out the front door.

And she pretended she didn't hear the morse tapped out behind her:

L-I-A-R.

–

It didn't take too long to get to the train station.

She made the trek every day back when she commuted; and she already missed it, to be honest. The weather was nice and the sky clear. The air was warm, but not muggy like it was a month ago. Even if she was alone, she could just doze off and let her body go on autopilot without a care in the world. Maybe grab some coffee and a bagel if she felt like it. She hadn't eaten anything before she left the dorms. There was a Starbucks a few blocks down; she could stop by and grab something on the way.

By all accounts it could just be another lazy weekend. The town itself had a lot to do in it – she could just wander around and go home after if she really wanted to. The mall was freakin' huge, and she could window shop in it alone for hours – especially since she hadn't done that since she went with everyone else when they were stocking up on stuff pre-training camp.

Or she could go back to the dorm, grab her acoustic guitar, and busk in a nearby park. Or she could wander and try and find some interesting new place she hadn't been before. Or she could camp villain hotspots and watch heroes do their thing. A whole day could be filled with plenty of new things leftover. All she had to do was go anywhere but the station.

But she didn't.

She walked up the steps and headed inside. Most people used their phones to get on the train now. It was easy enough to hold it over the sensor at the ticket gate going in, and then doing it again on the way out: It would automatically charge the ticket to her account, which was obviously a lot quicker than going through this whole process. She could just leave this machine and call it a day.

The downside was that if she used her phone to get in, or even used her card to buy the ticket, the charge on her account would always both the starting point and destination. Her parents were chill and didn't touch her finances beyond giving her an allowance, but she had to play it safe. It was bad-enough that she lied to them about where she was going – she didn't want to know what would happen if they found out what she was doing.

She looked at the map above the ticket machine. There were multiple different lines running through the station, including both the one used to get home and the one to Yamanashi. They weren't in completely opposite directions. She'd take the Chuo line to get to her destination. And the Fuefuki line would let her go straight home after she was done. Easy as pie.

She tapped the “purchase ticket” button on the right side of the screen, then tapped the other buttons as needed: More than 1490¥. 1850¥. Die a little inside (not a button). She hadn't done this in awhile; usually she just showed her phone and passing through in a few seconds. The last time was because she left her phone at home and it was either use this machine or be late for class; and she knew which option would get her in trouble.

This ticket cost around the same as it would've cost to go straight home without a JR account – a little less, actually. All she had to do now was put in the cash to pay for it.

She fished her wallet out of her bag, but paused as she took out the change. Nothing was forcing her to do this. She could just go back and start over. Or she could even cancel the transaction entirely and use her phone to get through and go home and everyone would be none the wiser. Maybe she could call some friends from middle school and hang out. That would make a lot more sense. She would at least know what she was doing then. And she could go about her day like she wasn't just enacting the most least-thought-out plan ever.

But she didn't.

She stuck in the cash to pay. A small paper ticket popped out. Her change dropped into the well below it. She grabbed both.

The card had the date, origin station, and ticket price on it. All correct. The change was the right amount and went right back in her wallet. And as far as she knew, she hadn't forgotten anything. And it wasn't like she could go back now that she'd paid.

So she headed straight to the turnstile.

The ticket went in the slot. The little arrow in front of it lit up. She passed through and grabbed the ticket on the other side. Now it was just a matter of getting to the right platform. Just follow the arrows. The station was pretty big, but it shouldn't be too hard to find.

Though to be fair, she didn't have to take that train. The line that would take her home went through this station too. She could go on that one instead and use one of the fare adjustment machines after and be just fine.

Her parents wouldn't mind her coming home early. If anything, they'd probably be happy to spend more time with their little girl (as much as she hated it when they called her that). They could have jam session or go see a movie or even just talk about school and what it's like living on her own so far away from them and it would be fine. There wouldn't be anything wrong with that. Heck, it might even be better since it would mean she hadn't blatantly lied to everyone.

But she didn't.

She went down the stairs. A sign hung above the designated platform, the time of arrival displayed on the LED screen. She made it with plenty of time to spare. And there was next to no chance that the train was going to be late (unless a there was a hero fight in the way or someone threw themselves in front of it). She just had to wait.

And as she waited, she texted a girl from middle school she knew that had an apartment in Yamanashi. Maybe they could hang out after Jirou finished her business or something. Socializing was always fun, and the girl was fairly down-to-earth like her – she wasn't the type to make a big deal out of being friends with someone going to U.A.. They could just chill and window shop around the Aeon Mall and grab lunch or something.

After that she just scrolled through her phone. She browsed a random news article. Some guy with a water quirk was apparently using it to poach an endangered species of fish in Fukuoka. The Luminescent Hero Nightlight caught him in the act and apprehended him with little resistance (aside from taking a fish to the face, said fish promptly being released back into the lake). Another was on the reconstruction efforts in Kamino. Another on the spike in crime following All Might's retirement. But nothing on any major incidents or disasters.

She checked the time. The train home would be arriving in a few minutes. She could walk over to its platform wait for it instead. It wouldn't take too long. She could make it if she really wanted to.

There wasn't anything stopping her: The girl hadn't responded yet. She wasn't Iida, so it would make sense for her to take more than a few minutes. Jirou could just say that something came up or that she had some plan she forgot about. It'd be a dick move, but at least there wasn't anything set in stone yet. She could just cancel and bail and go home. Or hell, she could just go back to campus and cut her losses and forget she ever had this stupid idea.

But she didn't.

The train rolled up on time. The doors opened and people began filing off. It would be a few seconds before she could get on, but thankfully neither the train nor the station itself seemed to busy. She slipped her phone into her pocket.

Passengers stopped exiting. The people on the platform with her started entering. She went with them, and sat in one of the empty seats in the middle of the car. There were few-enough people that no one had to stand if they didn't want to. A man pulled out a book and began to read. A few others took out their phones and began browsing.

No one started any conversations, which was normal. Jirou took out her phone again. No response.

Her free hand clenched at her knee.

It wasn't too late to get off.

She could leave and make a mad dash for the other platform.

And maybe she could still make it.

Her parents would be fine with it.

The girl never responded.

Jirou didn't have to do this.

She still had time.

She could still stop it.

She could still leave.

What was she even thinking this was the worst idea she'd ever had.

She had to go.

She had to leave.

She had to

had to

HAD TO

HAD TO.

...

But she didn't.

And the doors closed.

–

It was the weekend, but lots of hero offices were still open.

She could only hope that this guy's was too. A vague map to it was the only thing she could find – no hours or even a phone number. And even then it was in a single archived thread on an obscure, hole-in-the-wall hero forum discussing All Might's 'final battle' right after it happened, rather than anything official. And even then it was just a guy talking about some dude he saw that looked just like him going in and out of a certain building. Not even having a website was unheard of these days. Not having a google-able office address or even a phone number even moreso.

But even if the office was closed, there would at least be a sheet listing when he'd be in, right? She could just write down those numbers and find a time that worked for her. Or call. Or just send an email if that was on it. Time wasn't of the essence. He'd still be there later.

Though that was assuming it was even the right place. And that it was even an office. And that he'd even be there at all.

…

God, what was she doing?

It was too late to go straight back to her parents' house. She got a response to her invitation. She and the girl were set to meet at the mall, and she wasn't just going to up and cancel when she was already all the way out there. That wasn't the kind of dick move she'd pull on someone without a real good reason.

Well, she could just turn back at go to the mall early.

And find something to do.

Get a latte and some lunch.

Go to a bookstore.

Window-shop.

Try on clothes.

Anything.

And waste more time on those instead of doing anything productive.

She'd already doomed her one day off that week to being over an hour away from her family, classmates, and anyone else she was really close with. Why not just dick around and do whatever?

It wasn't like anyone would know her original plan if she went off and did something else instead.

But she didn't.

She arrived at her destination.

...At least, that's what the map on her phone said. What stood in front of her was a dilapidated four-story building that looked like it hadn't been used in years.

She looked at her phone, then back at the building, then back at her phone, then back at the building.

…

What?

Was this really the right place? The map said it was, but the state of the structure said otherwise. The welcome sign over the doors was tilted. Only a few windows had a complete set of glass panes. Heck, the entire thing had construction blockades surrounding it aside from the front door itself. All that stuff made it stand out from the much cleaner buildings surrounding it. This wasn't even a bad neighborhood – shouldn't there be some zoning ordinance for this kind of thing?

She couldn't imagine an actual hero office being located in there. Even the ones that were struggling put in enough maintenance to keep their buildings welcoming to the general public. This just screamed 'crack den full of squatters that refuse to pay rent'. It was hard to believe anyone legit would operate in this amount of disrepair.

But... well... this was it. She had no other lead. She only had one map to a single place, and this was it. If it wasn't the right one, she'd have hit a dead end.

An ounce of relief crept along the pit in her stomach among the annoyance. If there was nothing here, there was nothing more she could do. If there was nothing more she could do, she could resign herself to doing nothing and at least have an excuse for it, which is what she should've done in the first place. She had nothing to do with it. It wasn't her business. She could keep telling herself that and it would be true. Because all she could do was sit on the side and do nothing.

But if this was the right place...

If her gut was right...

...

She'd... play it by ear.

There was a lone piece of paper taped to the right of the double doors, and from a distance it looked to be the contact info she hoped for. But upon closer inspection it looked to just be some flier for some local event that happened months ago. And she reeeeeeally doubted the contact info on it was what she was looking for. Though it was kinda weird seeing that much age on the paper – usually people took them down as soon as they noticed them.

Also she could see graffiti now that she was beyond those outside borders. And that obviously wasn't gonna help. Beyond maybe giving the indications that no one was in there. Because removing spray paint was just a matter of cleaning it or painting over it. At a glance it was “obviously” abandoned.

But inside the building itself? There was the buzz of electricity, the hum of a microwave, and various noises coming from a single person inside. She'd pressed a jack against the door before she'd realized it; even without going directly inside, it wasn't hard to tell that it wasn't a normal hero office (if the state of the exterior wasn't enough of an indication).

But the important thing was that someone was there.

So should she just charge in then?

…

Yeah no that was a terrible idea.

She glanced around. There wasn't a doorbell or anything she could ring.

She'd have to knock then.

So she did. The door creaked slightly.

A minute passed. No one came.

“Hello?”

No answer.

…

Would taking a little look hurt?

She wrapped her fingers around the door handle. Maybe it would be fine if she just pushed it a little and peeked. No one would notice, right? There wasn't even a latch. She could probably just pretend it was the wind or something no harm no foul.

And she was just about to try when footsteps came towards the door.

She jumped back.

The door cracked open a few moments later. In the opened space was a little old man in a hero costume.

“Hah? Who're you?”

A little old senile man in a hero costume, from the looks of it. He seemed entirely harmless standing in front of her like that. Like he was wearing that suit just for kicks.

But he did resemble the guy she saw in that Kamino footage. And there weren't too many old timer heroes with bright yellow scarves out there.

Well, only one way to know for sure.

“Gran Torino?”

He stared for a moment.

“Wat? I'm not a girl.”

Okay. So it was him.

“Oh no- My name's Kyouka Jirou.”

“And what, yer' here to sell cookies?” He tilted his head to the side. “I'm more of a taiyaki man, myself!”

A grain of apprehension leaked into his voice.

Jirou shook her head.

“No, I'm here because I go to U.A. with Midoriya.”

He blinked. She continued.

“Fluffy green hair? Freckles? Yea big?” She shook her hand flat a few centimeters above her head. “You know, the guy who had field training with you?”

His eyes narrowed, and his tone changed in an instant.

“I already told the kid I wasn't taking him in again.” He glared. “So whaddaya want.”

Warning bells went off in her head. The guy may have acted like a senile old fart not even two minutes ago, but a chill she hadn't felt since the USJ incident ran down her spine.

“If... it's not too much trouble,” she broke eye contact and looked to the side, but it didn't make her feel any less sick to her stomach, “I'd like to ask a few questions about him.”

“Ask'im yerself.”

She probably should've, but she didn't. And she wasn't going to. Midoriya didn't want anyone to know about his quirk. All Might didn't want him to know about Shigaraki's investigation. And yet Jirou knew about both while the former two remained unaware.

And she was going to keep it that way. They all lived on campus together. They all had to see each other every day. All those secrets were secrets for a reason. They weren't shared for a reason. And Jirou was no exception to that 'don't tell anyone' rule. At best, her telling them what she knew would end in getting told to stay out of it for her own good – at worst it would make them paranoid, which could impact their judgment at the worst possible moment and end in someone getting killed if the gravity of all this was as big as she imagined.

Going to any of the other U.A. staff was a terrible idea for the same reason (on top of Recovery Girl and the principal seemingly being the only others who knew about the successor bit): The teachers definitely knew about All Might's true form, but there had to be a reason they were being kept out of the loop. Going to the police would be even worse; All Might may have a friend in there, but that didn't mean the whole department knew.

That's why going to someone in the loop, but off-campus and away from the authorities was the best idea – it was the only one that had a decent chance of turning out okay for everyone involved. Gran Torino already knew about All Might and Midoriya being his successor, so he obviously knew not to tell anyone. And since they were alone and there was no one else there, there was no way anyone else could listen in on their conversation. And if he decided not to share anything, that would be it. No awkwardness with All Might or Midoriya, no interrogation by the police. She could just go about her day after and pretend nothing happened.

At least, that's what her logic dictated at the time.

Now she wasn't so sure.

Actually, she really wasn't sure.

Seriously, this guy didn't know her.

He just knew she somehow managed to find him. When it was clear he didn't want to be found.

And now she was asking questions about a kid that trained under him when said kid lived in the same building as her.

Why wouldn't that be taken as suspicious?

...

But he was giving her an out, right?

She could leave.

She could do something else.

Anything else.

Screw her instincts.

She wasn't a part of this.

She wasn't supposed to be a part of this.

Trying to act like she was would hurt more than it could ever help.

Why couldn't she just get that?!

All she had to do was go.

Just go.

Just go

just go justgo

justgojustgojustgojustgo

justgojustgojustgojustgojustgojustgojustgojustgojustgojustgojustgoJUSTGO.

GO.

She clenched her fist.

“...It's about his quirk.”

JUST GO.

Gran Torino's voice gained an extra edge to it.

“And?”

DON'T DO THIS.

She gulped.

“And... how he got it.”

…

Time stopped.

Gran Torino's expression didn't change.

But his eyes alone threatened to slice her in two.

Jirou tried to stay still.

But her heart was ready to burst.

He knew.

There wasn't anything she could say to take that back.

So now what?

He didn't say anything.

Neither did she.

They were at a standstill.

She didn't know what to do.

She didn't know what she could do.

But what little reason she had left in her told her to leave.

Just go.

RUN.

She took a step back.

The tension in the air vanished all at once.

Gran Torino sighed and took a step back himself.

“Come in.”

He opened the door the rest of the way. Jirou hesitated before going inside.

Huh.

That was weird.

The room didn't look a thing like she expected.

Actually, it looked more like-

The door slammed shut behind her.

She whipped back.

A cold pit dropped in her stomach.

Gran Torino's eyes locked with hers.

“Alright, kid. What do you know.”

–

A/N: To... BE CONTINUED!!!

Help I got too into research and made up a new rail line to make things work.

Though one neat thing I did realize is that there's no shinkansen line that goes North-South from Yamanashi into Shizuoka (or vice versa) even though Deku said it took 45 minutes to get to Gran Torino's place using one. Now it's 4 in the morning and I'm wondering about changes in the MHA verse's rail system.

I also didn't mean for it to turn into a fic following canon from her perspective, but I guess that's what I get for taking so long haha.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha fanfics #mha #Jirou

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brick-boat-blog · 8 years ago

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Doodle of best bird boy.

#best birb

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brick-boat-blog · 8 years ago

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YEEEEEEEEEEEAH!!!!

fic rec: perception by brickboat

boku no hero academia | gen fic | 23k | by @brick-boat

Assisting another is difficult when they won’t accept your help.

Doubly so when they won’t acknowledge their plight in the first place.

bakugou has ptsd. tokoyami notices, and tries to help. it’s a bit like talking to a brick wall.

the story is told from tokoyami’s point of view; he has a very distinct and in-character voice that i enjoyed a lot. there is also a really interesting exploration of the dynamic between tokoyami and dark shadow, and members of 1-a who don’t usually get a spotlight show up in the fic as well! if that’s your kind of thing, definitely give this fic a go.

read on ao3!

#my first fanfic rec #thank you so much!!!#trying to help kacchan is like trying to nail jello to a wall isn't it #Stubborn boy #And I love Tokoyami and Dark Shadow they are adorabirbs #Hori pls let Dark Shadow talk more

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brick-boat-blog · 8 years ago

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This guy is a true MVP! He didn’t ask Deku what his quirk was. He just immediately believed in him! He doesn’t know how right he’s gonna be!

You wanna be a hero? Fucking GREAT! You can do it!

#you go old guy

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brick-boat-blog · 8 years ago

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Perception

Summary: Assisting another is difficult when they won't accept your help.

Doubly so when they won't acknowledge their plight in the first place.

Word Count: 23.2k

FF.net: Here

AO3: Here

A/N: Here it is, guys: The sequel to Nightmares!

This thing is like 4 months overdue jfc, but IT'S DONE WOOHOO! (Just don't be surprised if there're a few things that seem a little weird given canon now.)

Enjoy!

One final jump, and he reached his destination.

Tokoyami stood on the 14th floor of a makeshift building. Class A was once again at USJ. This time, for a team rescue exercise.

The objective was to collect training dummies in various precarious situations. Some were in more danger than others: one could be in danger of burning while another would be trapped on a high ledge. The point of the practice was to deduce which to save first in an emergency, how to divide the available resources to do so, and to then get as many to safety as possible.

They were split into groups by drawing lots and sent in to their own section of the area to complete the task. When his group got together, Tokoyami volunteered to go to the ledges that the others weren't so easily able to access. Dark Shadow allowed him to scale vertical platforms easily, which was an ability his partners (Ashido, Aoyama, and Hagakure) lacked.

The dummy was safe – even without him there, the timer attached to it to was set to beep the exact moment the rest of the exercise ended. Damn. He should have known that it would been such – the floor was sturdy, there were no obstacles beyond the height of the floor itself, and there was nothing in the area that could possibly 'kill' the dummy (barring it losing its will to live and throwing itself out of the building). The time taken to rescue it was time that could have been used to save one in more immediate danger. There could very well have been a dummy that just met a grim fate.

Regardless, it was a lesson learned. He pressed the button on the timer, and removed the dummy from it's restraints. Making these mistakes in a controlled environment would allow him to be more efficient when working professionally. It was better to lose points as a student than lives as a hero. Frustration was unneeded. It would only serve as a distraction.

He looked out the window – if it could be called that: The building's facade on this side had almost completely crumbled away, which gave him a clear view of the surrounding area: the uncovered panels allowed for chaos to be viewed under a grand serene.

Tokoyami scanned the visible area. He could see Aoyama grab a dummy at ground level near the Eastern edge of their zone (the ruins zone, incidentally), where the building Tokoyami was in stood at as well. The flood zone and central plaza were empty (being the only areas teams weren't practicing in). Most of the other zones were too far away to see any of his classmates clearly. The only exception was the landslide zone, the next section over.

He focused his gaze. Something there caught his eye in particular.

Bakugou ran along a bridge towards the top of a rock column. Drones littered the airspace surrounding him. A dummy stood at the end in plain sight. A moat of glistening mud surrounded the column, as well as the other columns lined in a row next to it, and gently flowed into a nearby chasm.

The drones moved in to attack.

They fired pellets, though not in tandem. They were not those those in standard use, or even made of rubber. They were composed of a classified polymer mixture that was designed to merely sting when they hit a living target. However, it would be unwise to underestimate them – one could be easily ignored, but pain of dozens stacked. Luckily the drones were also designed not to be 100% accurate.

“FUCKING DRONES. GET WRECKED.”

Needless to say, Bakugou also went on the offensive.

He charged at the closest drone directly in front of him, seemingly immune to the ammunition. He grabbed its top – directly under its propellers, and pulled the lever on its underbelly. It manually shot a flurry of pellets. Bakugou aimed the nozzle at a batch of the drone's companions. They were knocked off-kilter and fell – either into rock face, or the mud below.

The ammunition spent, he threw his makeshift gun into another drone. Both crashed into a nearby cliff. Nearly three-fourths of his robotic opponents were gone. The rest took on a more defensive formation. Bakugou pumped his fist in the air.

“YEAH! TAKE THAT, YOU SHITTY HUNKS OF JUNK.”

He swung his right arm in an arc, and strafed a pseudo-cluster of the remaining drones. Most of them destabilized and fell, but one was sent careening into the bridge.

It exploded. The sudden jolt reached even the planks under Bakugou's feet. He grabbed the rope with his other hand, likely to steady his balance.

It snapped.

The bridge jerked underneath him. He grabbed the frayed end of the nearest rope. It slipped out of his grasp. There was nothing else arm's length away to grip onto.

He teetered.

He tottered.

He fell.

A flurry of explosions erupted from Bakugou's palms not even a second later. They only managed to send him into a spin. He was unable to correct it; the drop was too short to stabilize his momentum in time, or even divert his course to reach the nearby patch of land at the edge of the cliff.

He plummeted into the mud below.

Had Tokoyami not witnessed the event in its entirety, he would have assumed that the following slew of explosions came from group of ill-placed landmines. Mud was sent flying in a haphazard mess. It coated the column he aimed to reach as well as the cliff the bridge ascended from.

He wasn't quite screaming. Rather, he chose to unleash a mass of crude profanity over his current situation. His shouts were muffled due to the blasts and sounds of splashing mud, though what Tokoyami could hear was mostly cursing (he wasn't surprised). Bakugou's anger was apparent; he appeared barely a shade short of enraged. But there were some other emotions Tokoyami couldn't quite place in the chaos as well; though given the situation he was in, they certainly were not positive.

Peculiarly, Bakugou didn't attempt to swim to the nearby patch of land, or even regain his bearings. The remaining drones didn't move in to strike: All U.A. students were capable of swimming, but the drones were not going to risk accidentally drowning one of them.

He was in no danger, but it was as if he were fighting an invisible opponent.

As a witness, Tokoyami was unsure of what to do. It was a conundrum: Bakugou could clearly use assistance, and Tokoyami seemed to be the only one who could see the situation he was in. However, Tokoyami was a zone away, and he wasn't sure the penalty his team would incur for breaking that boundary. And he had little time to weigh his options: Even by launching himself over the barrier between zones it would take some time to reach him.

There was also the issue of Bakugou himself: Through their time at U.A. it had become readily apparent that providing aid he didn't require or ask for would incur his wrath. It wasn't something to be truly fearful of – he was adept at following the school rules (barring a few certain incidents), but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. The only exception would be if a fight broke out due to his bellicose nature. Tokoyami wasn't averse to the idea of sparring with an eager partner, but there was a time an appropriate time and place for such a match and this was not it.

But if he was truly panicking – as unlikely as it was, Tokoyami definitely needed to go there. And fast. The risk of Bakugou's anger could never compare to him potentially drowning. Even if the drones decided it was time to help, they were no substitute for an actual hero (even if that hero was still in training).

As he mulled over his options, he noticed Asui arrive at the scene.

She must have heard his shouts, or at least become concerned when he didn't respond on his transceiver. It was a habit of hers to check in occasionally when her team split up during group missions, and one that Tokoyami appreciated – communication was imperative as a hero; and making sure others were safe even more so.

The drones took notice of her as well and moved in, no longer paying any attention to Bakugou. Asui's tongue shot out and wrapped around one as she ran onto the bridge. She quickly smashed the remaining others by using it as a bludgeon.

She tossed her impromptu weapon over her shoulder and peered down below, clutching onto the unsnapped rope.

Tokoyami wasn't sure if Asui called down to inquire Bakugou's status (what, with the cacophony down below), but regardless she sent her tongue down to meet him. In one fluid motion, she wrapped it around his torso and yanked him up. It was impressive how easy she made it look, especially from that distance.

Bakugou landed on top of the rock column next to the dummy. Unfortunately, Asui relied on mostly momentum, so she couldn't gently place him just yet. He instead hit the plateau with a thud.

Bakugou fell silent and pushed himself into a sitting position. He was oddly still for a moment's time, but quickly returned to his normal animated state. Wiping his hands on the platform seemed to get some of the mud off, but did nothing about the fact that the rest of him was absolutely slathered in it. He turned to face at Asui, who was making her way across the bridge, and yelled (though he wasn't as loud as he was earlier).

“For fuck's sake, Frog Legs; I had that!”

“Sure you did.” She was unphased. “Let's go.” Asui wasn't one to waste time; she reached the end of the bridge and took care of the dummy. “I think Kouda-chan and Kaminari-chan are almost done with the ground level dummies. We need to get the ones higher up.” She chose not to mention the state of his costume or what he was doing when she rescued him – a move Tokoyami agreed with. It was best not to start an argument when the dummy had not even been taken to a checkpoint yet.

“Ugh.” Tokoyami was unsure if that groan from Bakugou was because of Asui's words or just her method of retrieving him. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with him, as he stood up just fine without any visible injuries (beyond a few scrapes, most of which he likely acquired from being thrown).

He ran ahead, probably to find one of those dummies out of reach for his other teammates. Asui brought up the rear, carrying the dummy. She would likely do the same thing as Bakugou after she dropped it off.

They were both fine and none-the-worse for wear. A potential crisis had been averted, and Tokoyami himself almost wanted to give a sigh of relief to the whole situation.

“Hey Tokoyaaamiiiii~! You there?” Ashido caught his attention as she made contact through the transceivers. He pressed a finger to his ear.

“Present.”

“So quick question: Where you at?”

“On the 14th floor of a building at the Northern barrier.” He looked down at his phone. Damn. He spent so much time watching the other zone that he was definitely going to lose points for making an inadequate number of rescues.

“'Kaaaay. I'm at the Northwest corner and there's a big load a' dummies up high and they don't look like they're going anywhere anytime soon. Can you swing by when you're done over there?” Speak of the devil. Ashido's singsong timbre said she found many within her reach as well. Each zone had the same number of dummies and they could often be spaced out, but it was a treat to find larger clusters. Hopefully this cache would make up for some of the one ones he lost from squandering valuable time. And hopefully their timers wouldn't run out before he got there.

“Hey hey! Any down below for the rest of us?” The sudden appearance of Hagakure's voice was a slight surprise, though it shouldn't have been. Teams had only one channel each to prevent miscommunication and cross talk.

“Already taken care of, amigo.” If there was a way to transfer a sly wink through sound, Ashido would have done it. But her tone carried that image all the same.

“Booooo! I haven't had any luck finding them today!”

“None of us have gone to the Southwest corner yet, yes?” Aoyama's addition made for a complete team correspondence. “Shall we be off, Mademoiselle?”

“Yeah! Race you to the edge!”

“I accept! Last one there is an oeuf pourri!”

“So what about you, Tokoyami?” Now that Aoyama and Hagakure were off apparently having an impromptu contest, Ashido saw it time to get an answer. And Tokoyami had one:

“Time and tide wait for no man.”

He grabbed the dummy beside him and descended the building. Even with no one there, he couldn't mope over lost time. There was no use in doing so. Especially since precious seconds had also been wasted on his teammates' banter.

He dashed the moment he landed on one of the fallen buildings. He unceremoniously tossed the dummy at the first checkpoint he passed. It was going to be close, but he could make it – he only had to keep up his top speed. He had to be ready the moment he arrived at the scene. He had to focus.

But for some reason, the incident prior couldn't help but stick in his mind.

The class ended with a tally of the rescued.

While not strictly a competition, Uraraka's team did collect the largest number of dummies. They received a small round of applause from everyone else for doing so. Tokoyami managed to rescue an acceptable amount thanks to Ashido's assistance, so he wasn't critiqued as harshly as expected (in fact, Aoyama and Hagakure were the members of his team focused on – that final corner was sparsely populated, so they retrieved fewer dummies than he did).

A genial atmosphere permeated the monitor room as they watched the day's highlights, Aizawa-sensei commenting on them accordingly:

Sero created a net of tape and tossed dummies in before bringing them all in at once (“It's creative and saves time, but real people won't appreciate being thrown around like rag dolls”). Yaoyorozu gave a broken-down truck a new engine and used it to cart her and her teammates' dummies around between checkpoints (“That was good use of the resources available to you. I won't say anything about the legality of it since this is a controlled environment, but be aware of the consequences of trying that in the real world.”). Kaminari used a dummy as a sled to get to the bottom of a hill (“...You know what you did wrong.”).

And then there was Bakugou. He was still covered in mud by the time the exercise ended; he would only get the chance to shower when the review ended. Thankfully it had all dried, but in return it crumbled off with every small movement. Currently there was a small ring of dirt around him. The others found it hilarious, much to his chagrin.

“Alright, so Bakugou.” Aizawa-sensei sighed as he scratched his scalp. “You let yourself get careless.”

The scene Tokoyami witnessed was played on the screen, but from a different angle than he had watched it from. Bakugou destroyed most of the drones, lost his balance as the bridge cable snapped, then fell off-camera into the mud below, and Aizawa-sensei paused the video with the resulting splash in-frame. Tokoyami had an inkling as to why it wasn't played any further.

“Drones aren't hard to beat, but keep an eye out for your surroundings. Even a seemingly sturdy environment isn't always static.”

“Tch.” Bakugou's glower would have likely been deeper had it been possible. He crossed his arms. His eyes were turned to the floor. No one payed him any mind. Any condolences his peers gave each other were reserved for when they were released from the monitor room.

“And for you, Asui...” Aizawa-sensei continued on to give the rest of the class their critiques without missing a beat. A few more amusing reels. A few more criticisms over recklessness and unprofessional behavior. Nothing life-threatening or deserving of more than a few sentences from their teacher. The minutes ticked by. Eventually everyone had been reviewed. There was nothing more to say. There was nothing more to do.

So with that, class was dismissed.

As fate would have it, Tokoyami and Bakugou were seated next to one another on the bus ride back to the main campus.

Bakugou was the last to get on, having showered to clean the mud off his costume before it was time for the bus to leave. USJ had a facility specially designed to wash and dry the person(s) inside in a matter of minutes. It was handy given the number of obstacles and environmental hazards that could leave one's costume filthy. They weren't supposed to track large amounts of debris on the bus or U.A. campus itself, after all.

Apparently the mechanism had missed a few spots. There was still some dirt crusted on him – particularly on the crevices of the costume and under his ears. Thankfully their costumes were cleaned after every exercise of this sort; Tokoyami himself had some particularly resilient dust and rubble clinging to his cloak.

Tokoyami was the only one without someone sitting next to him. The reason was no more out of the ordinary than the rest of the class choosing each other as seatmates. Thus, the two of them were seated together.

“Potato!”

“Opossum!”

Ashido and Hagakure played shiritori a seat ahead of them. The rest of the class carried on their own conversations, with a few exceptions. Tokoyami wasn't one for small-talk, nor his quieter peers. He instead watched the trees pass. The branches were hypnotizing, but he could not find himself in more than a light daze. It was a tad disappointing – daytime naps were a treat when he could find the time.

He looked to his seat neighbor.

Bakugou's eyes were closed, but he was not asleep either. He wore a dour scowl when he boarded, one that was easy to mistake for sulking. Uraraka's team saved the most dummies with little-to-no damage, and everyone knew Bakugou hated losing; it wouldn't be hard to make the assumption that he was just moody because of it.

No one tried to converse with him. Kirishima had tried a moment after they were released from the monitor room; but though Tokoyami couldn't discern what they said, he could tell nothing meaningful came from it. And since Kirishima was Bakugou's best friend (or the closest thing he had to one in their class), anyone else who may have noticed something was off knew not to add in their piece after him..

And now that Bakugou was 'asleep', there was next to no chance that any of their peers would attempt to speak with him. Everyone in Class A had been thoroughly exhausted after a practical exercise at least once that semester, and used the ride back to the main campus as a welcome break to take a nap. It was an unwritten rule not to disturb them unless necessary.

But Bakugou wasn't asleep. His eyes were squeezed shut. His posture was rigid, along with his frown. The rhythm in his breathing lacked a pause between when he inhaled and exhaled. They were all the initial observations Tokoyami could make without physical contact.

He weighed his options: He could question Bakugou himself (and risk facing his wrath), or he ignore the elephant in the room and pretend he didn't see anything. The latter was the simpler choice – few things were as easy as doing nothing at all.

But... it felt disingenuous to leave him like that. Tokoyami remembered what they talked about before at the lodge. He knew what happened earlier. Something was clearly troubling Bakugou, and keeping it bottled up with an airtight seal would only make it fester like an open sore.

It would also be some time before Tokoyami had another chance to ask him in private. Despite the fact that neither of them went out of their way to be social, they were rarely alone at school – a small number of their peers were almost always nearby.

The layout of the bus allowed for no one but the pair sitting on the other side of the aisle to have a clear view of them. Iida was gazing out the window. Mineta was on his phone. Neither of them were likely to notice and listen in, especially among all the other ambient conversations.

They passed the street lamp Tokoyami used as a marker for 'about half way between the facility and the main campus'. If he kept waiting, he would lose the opportunity. It was now or never. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

So he began:

“Bakugou?”

No response.

“May I ask a question?” Tokoyami kept his voice soft enough to ensure that he that no one but Bakugou could hear him. Perhaps they could if they were paying attention, but the seats in front of and behind him were engaged in their own games and conversation, so it wasn't likely.

“The fuck do you want.” He grumbled, but he didn't sound groggy. Tokoyami could assume he was correct and did not unintentionally rouse him.

“To ask if you're alright.”

Bakugou snorted. “Who wants to know.”

“Only I. I'm merely wondering how you're faring after that plunge.”

“So I got covered in mud. Big whoop. Like everyone else hasn't gotten dirty at some point.”

“That's good to hear; but not what I meant to inquire about, unfortunately.”

“...Then what did you mean.” Bakugou's voice carried an unnecessarily accusatory tone.

“The incident itself.”

“What the fuck?” Bakugou's eyes shot open and immediately twisted into a glare. “Were you watching me or something?” There was an implicit warning in his tone for Tokoyami to choose his words carefully. Tokoyami wasn't sure how one could breach the subject more gently.

“I was in a building near the edge of the ruins zone; so I witnessed it, yes.”

“And now you just want to rub it in my face. Go to hell, you shittyass crow.” It was a testament to Bakugou's growth over the course of the school year that he kept his snarl down to a dull roar. But his assumption was incorrect: Schadenfreude was not a feeling Tokoyami enjoyed, especially at the expense of a peer.

“That is not my intention”

“I don't care. Shut the fuck up.”

“I may have raised your hackles, but I am concerned for your well-being.”

“Fuck off. I don't need your pity.”

“But Bakugou-”

Bakugou jumped out of his seat.

“For fuck's sake, Birdbrain: I DON'T CARE.”

That slight press was the straw that broke the camel's back. One hand held the seat in front for support while the other lay at his side, clenched into a fist. His eyes held venom. His stance was that of someone ready to start a physical confrontation. Tokoyami met the glare with a stern look of his own, but didn't leave his sitting position.

The rest of the bus fell silent.

They were at a standstill. Tokoyami had nothing to say now that their classmates were listening. Bakugou evidently didn't either. If he had to venture a guess as to why the latter was mum, it would be that Bakugou assumed that furthering the conversation would cause Tokoyami to report what he witnessed – or worse yet: what they talked about back at the training camp. Tokoyami knew better, but there wasn't anything he could do in the current situation to assuage that apprehension.

All he could do was wait for Bakugou to make the first move, if any.

…

...

. . .

“There it is!”

Kaminari shouted from a few seats down. Everyone else laughed, and the atmosphere returned to its original state in an instant. It was plainly obvious that none of their classmates had been listening in on their conversation (well- Tokoyami's attempt at one, at least), though it certainly gained their attention after Bakugou's yell.

Ashido peeked over the back of her seat.

“Hey Bakugou! Wanna start the next round?”

Bakugou looked at her. He blinked, his expression conveying annoyance with a touch of confusion.

“Piss off.” His voice was reduced to a grumble. The moment of tense agitation subsided as quickly as it had been triggered. He sat back in his seat and folded his arms, closing his eyes and returning to the same position he was in just minutes ago.

“Flamingo!” Ashido continued the game unperturbed. Everyone in Class A had long since been accustomed to Bakugou's foul mouth and crass attitude. It wasn't out of character for him to be irascible and rude for no reason. They might have teased him if it was about something funny or petty, but the lack of context gave them no material to do so with.

Ashido sat her chin on her then-folded forearms and beamed at now-visible classmates.

“Office!” Sero accepted her implicit invitation to join in.

“Ectoplasm!” Kaminari did as well, but from the other end of the bus.

The rest of the ride back was filled with idle chatter and a string of shiritori volleys from random classmates. Bakugou gave off an aura of irritation that contrasted with the rest of the bus's ambiance, but sat silent. Tokoyami scrolled through his phone, though paid little attention to what was on the screen. Neither of them said anything. Tokoyami chose to wander within his own thoughts instead.

What little semblance of a plan he had had was terribly myopic in execution. Asking Bakugou directly had only made him snap – it was foolish to try and help right after an incident occurred.

But making no effort meant there was no chance anything positive could have happened. He took a chance and failed; nothing more.

Tokoyami obviously didn't expect Bakugou to readily voice his struggles; but even saying “It's a fucking load of horse shit who cares” or something else similarly 'Bakugou' would have succeeded in at least a minute amount of alleviation. Instead he bottled up any and all reaction beyond mere annoyance at his classmates' reactions. Tokoyami knew those symptoms, and he knew it was not a healthy way to manage them.

But there was little else he could do at the moment: Attempting to interact with Bakugou once again would only lead to a repeat of what just happened, with with the added touch of concern from other classmates. They were lucky no one thought to ask anything; best not to push it.

So he let it rest for the time being.

“Hey um... Is everything okay?”

Tokoyami blinked, then looked to his right. Kouda took a bite out of his sandwich; his gaze was fixed straight ahead. They were at lunch in the U.A. cafeteria. They sat side-by-side at a table close to the door.

Kouda's voice was unmistakable (if barely audible), but it was rare for him to start a conversation so bluntly. The two of them would normally eat their lunch in relative silence when they sat next to one another, with occasional small talk (often centered around the campus fauna) or questions about schoolwork. Neither of them were the talkative type, which contrasted with how chatty most of their classmates were.

“I would like to think so.” Tokoyami felt his own demeanor hadn't changed, even after U.A. had been attacked by villains. But he was well aware that a vision of one's self was not necessarily what others saw. “Why do you ask?”

“I'm not sure. Some of them just seems a little... off.”

“The animals?” Tokoyami hadn't noticed anything different about them.

“Our class.”

Ah, so that's what Kouda meant. Traces of concern littered his face, but the lack of clear suggestions implied he hadn't settled on any one particular possibility.

“Have they done anything worthy of concern?”

“Umm... Maybe?” He scratched his head. The sound of stone against stone was not pleasing to the ears. “I dunno..”

Tokoyami had noticed over the course of the school year that Kouda possessed a particularly fine-tuned sense of empathy, which Tokoyami could only assume was a byproduct of his quirk. However, he had trouble pinpointing the exact causes of his observations, and his lack of self-confidence led him to constantly second-guess himself (though he vocalized that worry less as the months passed); but the hunches he did share were eerily accurate.

“I suppose it has something to do with our experiences over the summer break.”

“It's been this way since we got back, so I guess so?”

“Would you happen to have any particular examples?”

“Well um... Jirou-chan and Kaminari-kun seem like they're mad at each other, I think...” That was another observation that Tokoyami hadn't picked up on. As far has Tokoyami could tell, they were as friendly as ever. Though now that he thought about it, Kaminari did seem particularly absentminded as of late.

“Aoyama-kun's been talking less. And Iida-kun's been watching everyone a lot more...” Kouda took another bite of his sandwich, and lazily held out fingers as he listed them, as if he were counting them.

“That does seem to be the case.” He nodded. Aoyama interjected into far fewer conversations than he had before, though his facade was flashy as always. Iida made it abundantly clear that everyone needed to notify him if they were to leave the campus for any reason that did not pertain to school.

“What about you?”

Tokoyami blinked.

“Pardon?”

“You've noticed something too, right?” Right. Kouda's stellar intuition applied to him as well.

“...I'm not at liberty to say.” It was unfortunate that Tokoyami did not recognize changes in behavior as readily as Kouda. Perhaps then he might have had an easily-retrievable observation of his own beyond his main concern. But there was no sense in attempting to lie and convince Kouda that he was oblivious. Even he could tell it wouldn't work.

“I told you mine!” Though Kouda said that, Tokoyami was sure he had plenty more observations he didn't mention.

“Some things are better left unsaid.” Kouda was unaware of what truly transpired during that attack. He was also unaware of what Tokoyami had discussed the night prior to that incident. It wouldn't be fair to drag him into something he could do nothing about, especially given how empathetic he was.

“It isn't about the villains, is it? I don't want us to get attacked again!” Kouda fretted as he made that strangely erroneous assumption. He was needlessly riling himself up. They were in dorms now. The ringleader of the villains that attacked them was in a maximum-security prison. It was unlikely that there would be another attack on them soon, if at all.

“Please calm yourself, Kouda.” For someone normally so reserved, Kouda could be very animated when he so desired. “That is not what it is.”

“So... what is it?”

“...I can assure you that it does not involve one of our previous adversaries.”

Kouda looked down at Tokoyami's arm.

“Do you know, what it is Dark Shadow?”

“Please leave me out of this.” Dark Shadow peeked out from Tokoyami's cuff, than slithered back as quickly as it came. Tokoyami was thankful that it was high noon. Otherwise Dark Shadow may have told him something.

“I beseech you to tell me, so that I may better understand the situation that has unfolded!”

“...I am not an animal, Kouda.” Though he had the head of one. He ignored the slight push that command had on him. Shut up, Kouda.

Why was he being so persistent, anyway? It was quite unlike him.

“What're you guys talking about?”

Kouda jumped as Asui seemed to apparate behind them. It took some effort for Tokoyami to not do the same. Her interjection was a surprise, to say the least.

She sat down on the other chair next to Tokoyami, a small bag in hand.

“Oh um-! Nothing! Nothing at all!” Kouda waved his hands frantically, though it only made clear that mendacity was not his forte.

Asui looked at him, then at Tokoyami, then back at him. She didn't break her gaze as she took a small bento box out of her bag.

“Oh, that's it?”

Kouda blinked.

“Huh?”

Asui took the lid off the box. The contents were homemade, contrary to those of the lunches most everyone else that attended U.A. ate. The meal looked more appetizing as well, if he were to speak honestly (not to say that Lunch Rush's meals weren't appealing to the eye and delicious as well; but there was a certain charm to a homemade bento). Tokoyami would often see her prepare those meals when he arose in the morning. Apparently she used to make them for herself and her siblings when she lived with her parents, and it was a habit she did not want to give up. Tokoyami respected that. Though had they been close enough, he might have even asked her for one as well

Asui looked at him.

“It's best not to worry.”

Kouda looked at Asui, then Tokoyami, then back at Asui.

“You know what it is, Tsuyu-chan?”

“Yep.” She split a pair of disposable chopsticks.

“B-but why her and not me?” Kouda's eyes betrayed hurt feelings. Tokoyami felt a small pang of guilt.

“I didn't tell her.” Tokoyami hoped Kouda could tell he wasn't lying.

“Then how does she know?” A good question. Tokoyami didn't know the answer either. Though if he were to venture a guess, it would be that she had listened in on their conversation for a small while before adding a question of her own.

Asui interrupted before he could reply.

“I figured it out. But it's nothing you need to worry about, Kouda-chan.” She maneuvered a small octopus-shaped hot dog into her mouth.

“What? How? What is it?”

Asui swallowed the tidbit of food.

“It's personal – not for me, but it's probably not something we should be talking about.”

“Oh- I'm sorry...” Kouda began to fidget with his fingers, and turned his gaze directly to the table. Tokoyami probably should have said that from the beginning. He'd have to make a note to do so in the future if he ever got into that sort of conversation again.

“It's fine. Let's talk about something else.” Asui took a bite of one of her vegetables. “How's your rabbit doing?”

The day's hero exercise was a class-wide sparring match.

Class A was divided in half and pitted against one another. The objective was to capture all the members of the opposing team: It could be done by using specially-designed handcuffs, immobilizing them in some way, or by knocking them off the tiled ring in a manner reminiscent of older martial arts cartoons. Cementoss would also occasionally change the terrain to test reflexes and the ability to adapt to a situation. It would end when either all the members of one team were unable to fight or the time limit ran out.

The purpose of the exercise was to facilitate impromptu teamwork. With such a large number of participants on either side, one would have to be constantly on watch for opponents while aiding teammates to prevent them from being overwhelmed. Being able to work together with unexpected allies and effectively employ unfamiliar quirks was an important skill to have as a hero.

No time was wasted as the whistle blew. Both teams ran at one another towards the person directly in front of them, as if it were a one-on-one match. Quirks that could be used on multiple opponents were used without delay: Todoroki encased Ojiro and Shouji in ice, while Iida jumped out of the way just in time. Sero wrapped tape around Hagakure and Kirishima; the former was tossed out of bounds while the latter quickly used his quirk to cut through it. Yaoyorozu spawned a net, and bagged Sero and Mineta (Sero was distracted using his quirk, while Mineta merely thought he could get away). Within a minute, one-fifth of the class had already been removed from combat entirely. It looked to be a fairly quick exercise.

Tokoyami's opponent was Uraraka in the meantime. He knew better than to get into close-range combat with her – she had been quite skilled at it since she returned from her internship. He instead sent Dark Shadow to do battle. No one else had noticed him quite yet, so he knew he could put his entire focus onto the opponent ahead for the time being.

Dark Shadow lunged.

Uraraka sidestepped.

She made a move of her own.

Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were rendered floating with a single slap.

“Gonna have to do better than that, Tokoyami-kun!” Her brash confidence contrasted with her normally cheery demeanor, though it wasn't new and certainly wasn't unwarranted: She showed how competitive she could be over the course of the school year, and that her taunts were anything but empty.

“So it seems.” He retracted Dark Shadow before she could grab a hold of it, and just soon enough to avoid being crashed into by Aoyama (who seemed to have been thrown from the far end of the arena).

The first move was key to knock Uraraka out of the ring before she could use her quirk, and he had failed. Any more attempts would likely get him tossed out of bounds, and any success grabs would only move him instead of his opponent.

For the time being, he would have to hold back, anchor himself using Dark Shadow, and wait for her quirk to be dispelled. He only hoped that Dark Shadow could multitask well-enough to both grip the concrete and fend off any attackers. As much as he preferred not to admit it, his hand-to-hand combat skills were still lacking on their own.

The terrain changed as if on cue. A massif rose between him and Uraraka, extending from the edge to his left to the center of the arena. A few small plateaus rose from the concrete as well. He could no longer see her, so it had to be the same for her as well. She was likely to find a new opponent in her newly-established section. He would have to find one as well.

The thought barely made its way through his head before he hit the ground with an unceremonious thud.

Ow.

He pushed himself up and brushed the dust off his cloak. Uraraka must have come to the same conclusion given that her quirk was no longer in effect. The sound of cement being smashed into rubble on the other side of the newly-formed wall all but confirmed it. He looked to his left. Midoriya was in a fighting stance, about to do battle with Yaoyorozu.

“Hey Tokoyami! Think fast!”

Tokoyami had mere seconds to evade a charge from Satou, but today he was not going to do so. Rather than jump in any specific direction, he instead cloaked himself in Dark Shadow and stood his ground. Satou was a foe who relied mostly on his brawn – a good opponent to gauge his own fortitude on.

He caught Satou's fist in his palm, and then the other in his other. Dark Shadow held his stance firm through the impact. A still image of that instant would likely have given the impression that they were fighting at equal strength, and that they were in a kind of deadlock. As if it were a contest of power where either could win.

But the reality couldn't be any more different. Though he could hold his form rigid, he was pushed back with what felt like little effort on Satou's part. In but a split second, Satou grabbed Tokoyami's wrist (tenebrous shadow and all). Tokoyami did his best to make Dark Shadow anchor them into the concrete.

However, another battle mere meters away from his own caught his attention: Ashido was doing battle against Bakugou. Both of them had minor bruises, but Ashido had fallen to the ground.

Bakugou looked ready to land a knockout blow. He lunged.

Though the situation was clearly not in her favor, Ashido donned the grin of a pixie.

“Try this on for size!”

A torrent of viscous liquid left her palms. She was close enough that dodging was impossible. The fluid hit Bakugou full force. He was pushed back and covered head-to-toe. His movements were rendered sluggish. Ashido's plan had been executed successfully: If Tokoyami's assumption was correct, it would take but one more blow to push him out of the arena entirely.

But his focus snapped back to his own predicament as Satou ripped Dark Shadow's claws out of the tiles and lobbed him high into the air. It would not do to stay distracted by a match that was not his own. Satou obviously intended for him to land outside the ring, but that wasn't in the cards as far as Tokoyami was concerned.

It was fortunate that Dark Shadow could extend, though doing so left his arm unprotected. It grabbed the edge of the arena and began to reel him back to solid ground. But Satou was there waiting for him, arm drawn back in expectation. He would have to hope the next hit would not be rebuffed.

But before he could conjure a quick plan to defend himself with, a salvo of explosions hardened, cracked and burst through Bakugou's makeshift liquid prison. A few hardened fragments pelted both Satou and Tokoyami, but thankfully bounced off with no ill effect (though a few may or may not have gotten stuck in Tokoyami's hair). Satou took no notice, so far as not to even glance at them.

The explosions propelled Bakugou forward. Manic fury stretched across his face. Unhardened liquid dripped off behind him. His feet touched the ground.

He leapt.

He put a hand to the gauntlet on his other wrist.

He pointed it at Ashido.

Time slowed a crawl.

Ashido's reflexes were among the quickest in their class; her hands were instantly in front of her. That playfully cocky expression she wore before flashed to one of primal fear. She had to have sensed the same bloodlust Tokoyami did. A deluge of acid unlike that witnessed previously erupted from her palms, chemical vapor steaming off it.

Tokoyami's blood ran cold.

Acid would melt.

Explosions would destroy.

Pitting one against the other would not cancel their effects.

Serious injury would be the best outcome.

Far worse was much more likely.

That couldn't happen.

That wouldn't happen.

He was going to stop them.

He had to stop them.

He had to-

Dark Shadow left its commands in a rush of instinct. It sped to the two aforementioned combatants. An extended arm wrapped around Bakugou as he pulled the grenade pin. It's back expanded to stand between the acid and its target.

The grenade blast was diverted a meter to Ashido's right. It bored a crater into the tile next to her.

The acid spray hit Dark Shadow full force. None of it reached Bakugou.

Satou's fist hit Tokoyami square in the abdomen. He flew into the wall outside the ring.

Dark Shadow hissed. Tokoyami was ready to vomit.

Tokoyami's sense of touch only minutely extended to Dark Shadow itself. There was generally a sense of location and impact, but the weight of it was merely a registered sensation; Dark Shadow didn't bruise. Cutting and slicing of phantom mass stung, but in a detached manner that was more than manageable. Fire and explosions burned, but the repulsion in conjunction with it staved off most of the discomfort. The ease of dissociation allowed Tokoyami to send his quirk out with no hesitation. He assumed that no blow to his quirk would ever register as more than a cat scratch.

But at that moment, it was as if Dark Shadow was engulfed in fire.

The acid burned like flames without a glow. It ran down Dark Shadow's back and dripped to the floor. Bakugou thrashed, explosions bursting through the lower half of its grasp. It took all of Tokoyami's focus for Dark Shadow to hold Bakugou firm at the elbows.

Dark Shadow pulsed and shuddered. Possible outcomes raced and jumbled through Tokoyami's mind a mile a minute. A feeling he could only assume was perturbation ricocheted and tore through his innards, threatening to boil over at a moment's notice.

This makeshift mediation would last mere seconds at most. Dark Shadow would be forced to retreat by Bakugou's explosions. Ashido's attack could last another second or ten before she'd realize what she was doing. Bakugou's rampage could end right then or he could become more determined to end his opponent. There was no way to accurately predict what they would do next. All Tokoyami had was intuition and instinct to guide him.

But intuition and instinct weren't enough to keep that wall up. Acid ate through Dark Shadow on one side. The illumination from those detonations attempted to repel it on the other. It had to hold itself rigid – it would dissolve the moment it tried to move Bakugou out of the way.

Tokoyami began to peel off the wall. His physical being was weak. It was slow. It was too far away to do anything of value. It could do nothing in this situation. Dark Shadow was the only part of him that could do anything. It was the only part of him that was doing anything.

Why did he have to be so useless.

Time flowed in slow motion. Satou's attention turned to the battle. He began to run towards it.

But he reacted too late. He wouldn't reach them in time if Ashido didn't didn't stop her acid spray.

But if she did, he might be able to get in between them and put a stop to their fight.

But relying on such an uncertain gambit was too great a risk.

Satou was strong and reliable. His physical strength was among the best in their class.

But that brawn was all he had to protect himself with: Acid would eat through his flesh like maggots. Unencumbered blasts would leave grievous burns. He was ill-suited to take those blows, having nothing to shield himself with.

There had to be a more assured course of action that could be taken.

Something that would be effective.

Something that would cause no harm.

Something that would stop them.

Something that would-

It was at that moment that the sting of their attacks vanished.

The acid ceased.

The explosions ended.

Dark Shadow dissipated.

And mere seconds masquerading as minutes passed like clockwork once more.

No more blasts left Bakugou's hands before he hit the ground. No more acid left Ashido's before they fell to her sides. The acid that hit Dark shadow splattered on the ground between them. Tokoyami landed arms-first on the dirt ring outside the arena. The cement landscape returned to a level plane of flat tiles.

It was over.

“That's enough.”

Aizawa-sensei's quirk was activated. All eyes were on him. Tokoyami rose to his feet, but stood still with the rest of his classmates. Ashido propped herself up onto her elbows. Bakugou sat up, stifling heaving breaths within seconds.

“Ashido, Bakugou, you two're out. Go wait in the monitor room.” Aizawa-sensei pointed his thumb back to the double doors behind him. Going through would lead to a hallway, and the monitor room would be on their right. It was not hard to reach, but those words their teacher spoke carried a certain air of admonishment to elicit a feeling of shame from its recipients..

“But Aizawa-sensei-” Ashido began to protest.

Aizawa-sensei cut her off immediately.

“No buts, Ashido. The acid you made is eating through the floor,” He motioned to the tiles in front of her, “And Bakugou seems to think people are made of concrete.” He motioned to the tiles on her right. The crater ran deep with a scorched ring and cracks branching out of it.

“Jeez, Bakugou, what the hey!” Ashido shook her fists in front of her and looked to her assailant. “Don't try and turn me into a block of Swiss cheese!”

“Tch.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Not my fault you can't take me at my best.”

“That doesn't mean you have to go all Terminator on me!” Ashido pouted, folding her arms in turn. Neither of them seemed to acknowledge the gravity of the situation.

“He's not entirely at fault, Ashido.” Ashido flinched. Aizawa-sensei paid no notice. “Had anything or anyone been there instead of Tokoyami's quirk when you shot that acid, the results would have been very different.”

“I have a name you know-!” Dark Shadow reemerged from Tokoyami's shadow as soon as Aizawa-sensei ceased using his quirk. Tokoyami clamped a hand over its beak before it could say anything else. Thankfully no one seemed to have heard it.

“Silence yourself, Dark Shadow,” Tokoyami sent his quirk back into his shadow and dusted his cloak, though some dirt remained clearly visible. It's what he got for choosing such a dark color palette. Though he couldn't say he was happy about it.

After a few more words that Tokoyami didn't hear, Ashido and Bakugou were dismissed. They jumped off the arena onto the packed dirt below.

“Alright, everyone. Time out's over.” And with that, Aizawa-sensei recommenced the exercise.

The game resumed as quickly as it had been paused. There would be a minute for everyone to regain their bearings before the landscape shifted. Some of their remaining peers were scouting to see where everyone was, while others dove straight into the action. It was as if the mortal danger present mere minutes ago was never there.

Ashido's face conveyed a delicate mixture of disappointment and confusion, though she seemed to be in a good mental state otherwise. No irreparable injuries were made. Nothing that required her or Bakugou to visit Recovery Girl either (though a visit couldn't hurt). Even when their class had been attacked, she was never one of the students that got into real danger. It was likely that she wrote her reaction off as acting before thinking and nothing more.

Bakugou on the other hand emanated an aura of irritation. He was likely angry about the lack of closure in the battle – Ashido managed to capture him, and he wasn't able to return the favor. Whatever fury caused him to act out was stuffed back from whence it came. He wouldn't be able to take out that pent-up frustration on anyone else until the next combat exercise. And to top it off, there was the shame of being removed from battle by a teacher's order, rather than being defeated. It was perfectly understandable that he'd be in a bad mood.

Tokoyami himself couldn't help but feel at fault: If he had been able to move Bakugou or Ashido out of the way, they would have been able to stay in the ring awhile longer. But instead he was only able to take the brunt of their attacks and attempt to stave off the inevitable. The aches and pains littering his body were a small price to pay for their well-being; and a lesson in just how much more he needed to improve. He would do well to learn from it.

“Even monkeys fall from trees.”

It was a conciliatory gesture towards his classmates. No one wanted to be removed from an exercise in that manner. Bakugou and Ashido were among the most skilled in class when it came to combat. But anyone could make ill-advised judgements. It was an unfortunate reality of their mortal plain.

“YOU WANNA GO, BIRDBRAIN?!” Clearly it didn't have its intended effect. Bakugou raised a fist at him.

“Bakugou.” Aizawa-sensei wasn't having any of it.

“Ugh.” Bakugou lowered his hand and turned. “Yeah yeah. I got it.”

Bakugou stormed off to the monitor towards the monitor room, hands roughly shoved in his pockets. Ashido followed him, but kept watching the action until she left the room as well.

Tokoyami was about to do the same before words from Satou caught his attention.

“Hey man, you okay?” Satou must have felt a sense of responsibility for knocking Tokoyami out of the ring while he was distracted. It was quite alright; Tokoyami felt no resentment. There would be plenty more chances to fight in the future, and his actions during the incident weren't ones that would incite blame and ill-will on Tokoyami's part.

“There's no use in crying over spilled milk.” Tokoyami was a touch disappointed that he was unable to continue, but there would be other chances to do so. He looked to the area with a combatant closest to Satou; Cementoss resetting the arena removed the cliff obstructing his view to it. “Though it would behoove you to strike while the iron is hot.”

If Tokoyami was correct in his assumption, Iida had just used his signature technique to grab Todoroki and throw him out of the arena – a testament to his growth since the athletic tournament. And by using that technique, he would need a short amount of time to recover. Iida had done well to extricate their team from one of the top fighters in Class A.

“Uh... Sure, dude. Whatever you say.” Satou didn't follow his line of sight, and seemed confused at his response. Perhaps that was for the best; generally it was inadvisable to provide hints to the enemy, whether in exercises or on the field.

“Good luck.”

Tokoyami left to pass through those double doors himself.

He was met with praise as he entered the monitor room.

The others had seen what happened, and at multiple angles. He was peppered with questions about the incident, and what he was thinking while 'saving Bakugou' (the fact that that's what they assumed it was was disconcerting, to say the least; but he held his tongue, lest he bring more unwanted attention to the issue). There were also a curious few that wondered how he was faring after that onslaught.

Tokoyami's answers boiled down to his merely acting without thinking and that he was perfectly alright. It would be up to Bakugou and Ashido to provide any more information on what happened. The throb from Dark Shadow had not gone away since Aizawa-sensei released his quirk, nor had the aches in his head, back, and abdomen from Satou's blow.

But he chose not mention it. He wasn't comfortable with the attention as it was – even that which came from his decision to intervene itself. There was no pride to be had in something like this. Neither Ashido nor Bakugou were villains. Perhaps if it was a clever ploy that prevented less-serious consequences he feel more worthy of the commendations he received; but desperate actions made in a potentially life-or-death situation were not something to brag about, or even give more than simple acknowledgment.

Thankfully, his subtle attempts to efface himself paid off when discussion moved to Ashido.

Ashido could only provide the same answer as Tokoyami when asked about the acid (it was apparently the second time she was asked, but Tokoyami's responses had apparently given her a better template with which to explain herself better). Something had triggered the reaction, though she chalked it up to Bakugou's intimidation being overwhelming, and thought it more funny than anything (“Haha, you sure spooked me good there, huh, Bakugou!”).

Her cheery disposition didn't falter; it was as if she had avoided a mere slap in the face. The feeling was shared among their classmates. Though out of she courtesy (or perhaps curiosity) she inquired about Tokoyami's condition.

“Oh- Tokoyami!” She waved. “My acid didn't get you too bad, did it?”

“Not at all.” Tokoyami kept his demeanor stoic as always. “It was Dark Shadow that took the blow.” And Dark Shadow would not get scars; the ability to shapeshift and lack of a solid body allowed it to recover quickly, though the time it would take for that much damage to heal he could not gauge.

“Well then, all's well that ends well!” She spun back to face their classmates she was talking to before and looked at her hands. “But jeez, I didn't even know I could make something that corrosive.”

The conversation continued among their peers amicable with an air of levity. Tokoyami supposed outside eyes would find it strange, but they had no reason to feel they had been in any real danger; whatever challenges they faced at the school were always less hazardous than they seemed, and there was no reason to think they wouldn't be quickly rescued if something went wrong. Everyone laughed and joked and contributed to a merry atmosphere. Tokoyami himself didn't start any conversations, instead preferring to enjoy the mood from a distance (though he wasn't anywhere near far-enough to be appreciable).

Bakugou was the only other noticeable exception to it, instead choosing to glower and ignore the idle chatter. Any questions were met with curt, dismissive replies. Any comments on the remnants of Ashido's capture-fluid that still stuck to him were met with the same. The others assumed he was merely sulking about not winning, or even making it to the final four; Tokoyami wondered how many of them were aware that Bakugou had long since ceased brooding over mere losses for having lost in itself.

Satou entered the room approximately five minutes later. He apologized for slamming Tokoyami like he did, and Tokoyami replied once more that it was all right. Apparently Satou was so focused that he didn't realize that there was even a fight going on right next to him. That earned him a few jokes at his expense, but nothing mean-spirited. He quickly joined in on the banter.

It was another twenty minutes before the exercise was over. The chatter slowly subsided into a handful of conversations over of the course of it. Everyone was watching the screen by the end. The final fight was between Kaminari and Kirishima. It was an unfortunate anticlimax: Kaminari had shocked himself silly minutes prior, and his partner (Asui, in this case) had only just been thrown outside the arena; and while Kirishima looked to be exhausted, he still had enough energy to keep fighting. All it took was one throw and Kirishima had achieved victory for his team. A touch disappointing (as Kirishima was on the other team), but victory was not necessary and the only price to pay for a loss at U.A. was one's ego.

Aizawa-sensei and All Might went over the highlights of the day's footage after everyone was gathered together, and offered advice where applicable. An overall criticism was that while those who could use their quirks on multiple others did, over half the class didn't team up to fight an opponent. There would be times where they would have to fight villains one-on-one; but if there was another hero on the scene, they would be expected to work in tandem. Working together was not something only be done when absolutely necessary or when outnumbered.

And when the review was finished, they were let out.

The first order of business for everyone was to get changed out of their costumes and grab their bags from the classroom (along with whatever materials they required); but where they went after was entirely their choice now that they were done for the day. Everyone had their own routine they had already gotten used to. Most of them would immediately head back to the dorms (if they didn't have any scuffs or bruises they wanted taken care of – they would go to Recovery Girl's office otherwise).

Tokoyami himself planned on going to the school roof; the image of a lovely view coupled with peaceful silence was an enjoyable way to end the school day, and was enough to bring a small smile to his beak. But it seemed he would have to make a small detour to visit Recovery Girl himself first. How unfortunate.

But as he walked together with the others, he could feel a pair of eyes boring into his back.

It was not quite evening yet, but classes had long since ended.

The infirmary would be around the corner at the end of the hallway. No more students would be in the building now that everyone had gathered their materials and went to complete their daily rituals. Anyone who went to get treatment for minor bruising would have left as well. No one had been seriously injured, as was the norm; it was surprising how little it happened given their training regiments.

Tokoyami himself would typically leave small scrapes and bruises to heal without aid. Keeping a reminder of past mistakes gave incentive not to let them happen again. But the wounds gained today were troublesome enough to become a potential burden: A large contusion stretched nearly the width of his abdomen. Smaller ones peppered his back. The result was a deep, throbbing discomfort that worsened when he took even shallow breaths. Leaving them alone would impede his ability to do battle; and while he was sure they were not life-threatening, he didn't want to cause anyone undue concern if they saw them (since those injuries, in his opinion, looked far worse that they actually were). He would prefer to build the ark before rain, rather than wait for the flood.

Thankfully the trek would not take long as it stood. All he had to do was make a beeline for the office and he'd be fine. He just had to power through his discomfort. It was difficult-enough to keep his normal posture at a brisk walking pace. He could only imagine how onerous it would be to do more than that.

“Hey. Birdbrain.”

...

Of course.

He had almost reached the corner when a familiar voice got his attention. Its owner didn't sound happy.

Tokoyami turned to face him. His head pulsed.

“Good afternoon, Bakugou.”

He looked down – Bakugou's fist was clenched at his side, then looked back up. It was obvious that Bakugou was irate, and obvious that it was due to what happened earlier. Though he assumed he knew the reason for that anger, he didn't know what he wanted. It couldn't hurt to ask.

“...Can I help you?”

He had taken care to change out of his costume only after the others had left. While not terribly common, there were times when one would need to use the facilities after an exercise; no one would wait unless necessary or think it strange. Staying in the restroom and scrolling through his phone while he waited spared the others from the sight. And when he emerged, the locker room was empty.

So it was certainly odd that Bakugou would know he was here. Even more so that Tokoyami didn't notice another presence in this area. The fatigue from his wounds must have been worse than he thought. Damn. His awareness of his surroundings at that moment was apparently next to none at all.

Though thankfully Bakugou did not seem to notice.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

Tokoyami blinked.

“...Excuse me?”

Bakugou stormed closer.

“First you try and play shrink with that bullshit back at the training camp.” A single pointer finger shook forward.

“Then you fucking watch me like some kind of god damn weirdo when we're not even on the same team.” The middle finger was added.

“Then you pulled that get-in-between bullshit at training today.” The ring finger joined its brothers.

“Stay the fuck out of my fights, you chicken shit know-it-all pigeon!” Well. That was a new one. His gesticulations ended with a clenched fist inches from Tokoyami's face.

Tokoyami folded his arms. Their slight press against his chest stung. He ignored it.

“I assure you, my intervention was not done out of anything but necessity.” He did not require or even desire gratitude for his actions, but that did not mean he appreciated being yelled at for them.

Bakugou retracted his fist, but it remained clenched.

“Bullshit it wasn't. I had that.” Just like he 'had' almost drowning in mud, surely.

“You and Ashido were about to give one another grievous injuries.” That acid was virulent. The gauntlet's blasts could decimate cement. It wasn't abnormal to want to prevent both from hitting human flesh. “And in your unbridled bloodlust you made no effort to divert your course.”

“Right, because I was somehow supposed to know she wanted me fucking dead. Sure.” And there was the defensive sarcasm. How did he know.

“Bakugou, Ashido's acid was a reaction to you.”

Bakugou snarled.

“Of course you'd think that.”

“I was there to witness it, as you know.”

“And what, she can't make mistakes now?”

“You were the first to lose control of your actions.”

“The hell're you on about?!” Bakugou snarled. “Fuck that. I didn't lose control of ANYTHING!”

Tokoyami wasn't sure how Bakugou could keep himself so furiously in denial like that, but pointing it out directly would only further agitate him. He softened his voice. It wouldn't soothe, but it could perhaps placate enough that they could have a conversation with less hostility. It was certainly preferable to a one-sided shouting match.

“Let me be clear, Bakugou: I don't think any less of you for what happened-”

“Who cares what you think.” Not Bakugou, clearly. But he did lower his volume, and that was a start.

“But accepting the help of another would prevent such an incident from occurring in the future.”

“Hey, who the fuck says I need help?” Ignoring problems don't make them go away, Bakugou. “So what, Raccoon Eyes couldn't handle my explosions. That's not my problem.”

“You know how serious this is.” He shifted his weight onto his other foot. “Next time there may not be anyone to intervene.”

“There's not going to be a next time.” Did Bakugou realize he just confirmed Tokoyami was right?

“There will be if you keep ignoring it.” Tokoyami didn't point it out though.

“Oh, like you're one to talk.”

…

What?

He couldn't say he expected such a sudden recrimination. He also couldn't say that it didn't slightly ruffle his feathers. After all, he wasn't the cause of that day's incident.

“I beg your pardon.”

Bakugou gestured with tense arms held in front of him.

“You're going fucking on and on about some problem I don't even have like you don't have that shadow bullshit ready to kill everyone the second some asshole turns out the lights.”

Tokoyami flinched. That was a low blow.

Dark Shadow was not evil, and its aim was not to kill whatever crossed its path. It was merely an amalgamation of Tokoyami's being wrapped in a veil of sentient darkness, with power amplified by shade and wayward emotions. It only pursued catharsis – nothing more; its rampages would cease once that was achieved.

The caveat was that there was no solution on how to exorcise such energy in a safe and controlled environment. He wasn't even sure of the full extent of his power; even during his previous outburst in that forest he was restraining it (as much as he could, at least). But he had long since made peace with that incident. It was for the best that his quirk got the best of him that time, but he would work to make sure it never happened again.

And showing Bakugou his quirk the night before that incident was not meant to be a power play of any sort, contrary to his subtle implication. Telling Bakugou his own weakness was not meant to mock his apprehension. He meant only to offer a hand to a classmate plagued by hidden agitation; assistance that could perhaps help palliate that oneiric distress and the other symptoms plaguing him.

By revealing his own weakness, there was the possibility Bakugou would have perhaps felt more comfortable talking about his. A covert rapport would let him do that without alerting the rest of their peers. They both had a tacit tenet that weakness was not something to be shown in public, but venting in private could help prevent another outburst at the very least.

But getting Bakugou to open up even the slightest amount looked to be a task of Sisyphean proportions.

“Well, except me, of course.” Bakugou broke through Tokoyami's daze as he continued with a sneer. “We both know I'm your worst possible match up.”

“My inability to control Dark Shadow during that incident was most regrettable, but I have been working to rectify the problem since.” He lost himself in his emotions, and he injured a classmate in the process. But since then he had been working to better control them, and to quash the more irrational. For him, a stolid persona was ideal; both for his quirk and his career as a hero. “Are you going to do the same?”

“I don't have problems, you idiot.” His scowl was back as soon as it had left. An arm shot out to his right. “You're the only one who thinks I'm some kind of fucking headcase.”

He was also the only one to have that kind of conversation with him. Though 'head case' was not the word Tokoyami would use to describe him.

“How have your nightmares been treating you?”

“Oh fuck off.”

He felt an ounce of frustration that Bakugou put so much energy in pretending his problems didn't exist, rather than focusing on fixing them. It was a turmoil Tokoyami had dealt with himself, if with a few differences. But the symptoms were easy to recognize, and he only wished to help.

“Let me rephrase that: Have you been sleeping well?”

“Don't patronize me, Birdbrain.” The irony of that sentence was clearly lost on him.

“Concern from a peer does not necessarily imply weakness-”

“Then fucking mind your own business.”

“I am not the one who instigated this conversation.” Now that he thought about it, it was rather odd that Bakugou seemed to come for no other reason than to yell at him.

“That doesn't mean I need help. Especially from you.” Bakugou's fist slammed into the he window next to him as if to prove a point. Perhaps he was still sore from their previous conversation at the lodge. Thankfully the glass was bulletproof – more than durable-enough to take blows from angry teenagers.

“Fortune may favor the bold, but true valor lies between rashness and cowardice.” Bakugou wanted to be the top-ranking hero. It stood to reason that he would go all out when he could. But almost killing someone and then ignoring the incident was not the correct way to go about it.

“So now you're saying I'm a fucking coward?” Bakugou brandished his fists. Small explosions erupted from both. “Because I've got two reasons right here why you're wrong.”

Of course Bakugou would construe his words as mockery.

And of course he would use intimidation to counteract it.

Tokoyami mentally facepalmed. It took some restraint not to do it physically was well.

“I am not trying to insinuate that you're weak. Nor am I trying to belittle you in any manner.” He didn't humor Bakugou's accusation. And he would prefer to avoid battle now, if possible. The aches in his body seconded that notion.

“Sure as hell sounds like it.”

He grabbed Tokoyami's shirt collar and yanked him a few inches closer. His snarl seemed to intensify with the closing distance.

“So let's finish this.”

Tokoyami winced as the fabric tightened around his back, and reflexively grabbed the offending arm with both hands.

“I don't want to fight you, Bakugou.”

He wouldn't even if he was top condition. It was not the time, nor the place. Nor was there even a real reason to do it beyond humoring Bakugou being petty and seeking retribution.

“Why? Because you're looking down on me?” He leaned in. A vengeful grin stretched across his face. “Or maybe it's because you're afraid of me.”

“Because we're allies. We shouldn't have to settle disagreements with violence.”

“Well you sure as hell aren't giving me any better ideas.”

“We could talk.” Tokoyami caught his raising his voice and lowered its volume accordingly, then loosened his hold. “How are you feeling?”

“Like throwing you out this goddamn window.” The gravity of his tone was almost comical, but shoving Tokoyami into the glass pane next to them was not.

Dulled pain awoke once more and Tokoyami hissed. The continuous press on his back magnified it. A deluge of lurid images flashed in front of him. His loose grip instantly became like a vice. Dark Shadow popped out of his shadow; he held it rigid before it could make moves.

He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Practiced recognition allowed the mental pictures to pass with only mere traces of verisimilitude. He was fine.

“I would prefer not to experience defenestration first-hand, thank you.” He reflexively glanced behind him. He was sure that Bakugou wouldn't go through with his implied threat, but the fact they were on the first floor gave him an odd sense of relief nonetheless.

“Please don't fight. We're in school!” Dark Shadow's gaze frantically switched between the two of them, its claws nervously pressed its together.

Right. They were in the middle of a hallway. There were no other students nearby, but it was highly probable that a member of the faculty would pass through at some point. If that person assumed they were fighting, they would be reprimanded. While Tokoyami could accept detention or extra homework, he also foresaw questioning. Circumlocution would only get him so far with his teachers, and informing them of what he knew without Bakugou's permission would be more harmful than ignoring his affliction altogether.

An expression he couldn't quite place flashed across Bakugou's face, then vanished in an instant as it set back into his usual scowl. Bakugou released his grip on Tokoyami's shirt; it seemed he came to the same conclusion. Tokoyami let go as well and slumped, but didn't break contact with the window behind him. His back ached, his muscles were sore, and he'd have laid down to rest right then had he any less control over his faculties.

“There. I didn't just kick your ass. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.” Bakugou folded his arms. “How's that for control?”

Tokoyami dispelled Dark Shadow. He moved to straighten his posture. A twinge of pain pulsed through his head and his back. An unfocused fog clouded his vision for a moment.

It would be wise to reply, but no words came to mind.

Seconds passed. Bakugou's grip on his own upper arms tightened. He leaned forward.

“Now, get a few things through your fucking head.” Oh, now this was going be good.

“I don't have nightmares.” Right. Because inadvertently admitting it meant nothing.

“There's nothing wrong with me.” Right. Because he totally meant to almost kill Ashido.

“And I don't need some fucking featherbrain who can't even take care of himself trying to play shrink and getting in my way.” Right. Because obviously that was Tokoyami's intent. And obviously the only reason anyone would ever want to help Bakugou was pity. Obviously.

“Got it?” For the love of God, Bakugou. NO. WHY COULDN'T HE JUST-

Ugh.

His head hurt.

His body hurt.

His shadow hurt.

He didn't need this.

One of the benefits to having an abnormal cranial structure was nonappearance of certain nuanced facial cues normal to most humans. Tokoyami was certain he looked no different than usual, which was a small relief that was welcome nonetheless. He almost lost his temper. He reigned it in soon-enough that he was able to avoid any regrettable actions. And he was able to regain his focus without any indication that it had been lost in the first place (though Bakugou was not one to notice those things in the first place).

Bakugou's attitude belied his body language. His words were aggressive, but his stance defensive. He made no attempt to grab Tokoyami again; he instead took a step back, with eyes kept locked. Tokoyami met them with a stern look of his own.

But he held his tongue.

He didn't mention how he felt similar emotions once in the past.

He didn't mention how he wasn't the only one who felt concern.

He didn't mention how worried everyone was after Bakugou got kidnapped.

He didn't mention how he saw the Kamino broadcast live.

He didn't mention how he saw the fight between All Might and that villain.

He didn't mention how he searched ever millimeter of the window on his screen for some- any trace of him or the others.

He didn't mention the sheer terror he felt only seeing All Might.

He didn't mention how through every minute of that incident he wished that Shouji managed to grab Bakugou instead.

He didn't mention how he almost assumed they were trapped under the rubble.

He didn't mention how desperate he was to hear that they weren't among the casualties.

He didn't mention how he prayed to every deity he could think of and then some for them to even return alive.

He didn't mention how the news that they all made it back safe seeped through his stoic facade.

He didn't mention how happy everyone else was to hear it as well.

...

Bakugou wasn't aware just how worried everyone was, was he.

He wouldn't acknowledge the effect such incidents could have.

He wouldn't seek help even if that effect reared its ugly head.

He would stay in stubborn denial regardless of what happened.

Nothing Tokoyami could say here would change that.

Nothing.

Tokoyami gritted his teeth. He rubbed his fingers between his eyebrows. He sighed.

“You're incorrigible.”

Bakugou huffed.

“Good.”

For all they talked, no progress had been made. If anything, it had made him more irate (though he backed off at the last second). Bakugou insisted on bottling his emotions up into a Molotov cocktail of repressed feelings, which then burst at the most inopportune times. He was no closer to venting his long-term frustrations – Tokoyami hoped that he didn't accidentally add to them after what happened that day.

But nothing was going to change unless Bakugou put in some effort as well.

Which looked not to be likely, as it stood. Even less so at that moment. Bakugou wouldn't listen. Tokoyami was in no condition to keep up the argument for an indefinite amount of time. He would have to back down. There was nothing more he could do when the other person in question was a foolhardy brute who balked at the mere mention of sympathy.

Bakugou said nothing more either. Rather, he turned and stormed back the way he came. It was odd for him to leave so quickly, but Tokoyami didn't question it.

Instead, he just watched.

“About time you got here.”

Tokoyami had just shut the office door behind him when Recovery Girl addressed him.

He blinked.

“You were expecting me?”

She turned around to face him and hopped out of her chair.

“You didn't come to see me after you were let out, so it was only a matter of time.”

“...My apologies.” He couldn't think of anything else to say. He had only himself to blame for that.

She shuffled up to him, clipboard in hand.

“Truth-be-told, had you waited much longer, I would've gone out to find you myself – here, take off your shirt.”

Tokoyami did as he was told. He unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off, then pulled off his shirt (thankfully he didn't bother to put his tie back on post-exercise). His bruises stung as bunched up fabric ran over them. But the throbbing ended with a slight feeling of relief when there was no longer anything resting on his torso.

Recovery circled him, and scribbled on her clipboard in turn. She tapped the side of her visor a few times, perhaps they had some kind of x-ray functionality. But she did not touch him, which Tokoyami was thankful for. He stood still, so as not to disturb her work.

She was silent until she finished. She took a step back and finished whatever she was writing.

“That Satou boy's punches are no joke. You're lucky you didn't wind up with any broken bones or internal bleeding.” The last few words had a caustic edge to them, which Tokoyami understood. While they were not taught to be paramedics by any measure, internal bleeding was something that required immediate attention. He could have been in danger had that been the case.

“My apologies, ma'am.”

“Don't apologize. I know why you did it.” She didn't look at him as she said that. “Just make sure it doesn't happen again.”

“Alright. I will.” Or he would at least try to. It wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. And was one he'd rather not have to go through again.

“Good.” She stepped closer. “You have a few hairline fractures on top of all those bruises, but it's nothing permanent. You won't need a cast or bandages.”

She puckered up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He shuddered. He doubted he would ever get used to that.

But he immediately began to feel better. His bruises began to fade. The pain melted away into endorphins. That nebulous feeling from the damage Dark Shadow took dissipated. His abdomen was still tender, but that would go away soon-enough. He put his shirt back on, and the jacket. He could go. He was fine.

Then fatigue hit him like a freight train.

He stumbled as he took a step forward, but quickly regained his posture. It didn't escape Recovery Girl's notice.

“I won't be leaving for another few hours. You can rest here until then.”

He could. It was likely the best idea. He could sleep and regain his energy.

But it didn't feel right. He had work to do. He had to get back to the dorms. He didn't want to trouble Recovery Girl any more than he already had. His wounds were recovered. He was fine.

He didn't want to make anyone worry.

“I am grateful for your offer, but I must decline.”

“Alright. Suit yourself.” Her blasé attitude was welcome. He was glad she didn't require he stay. “Just don't collapse until you get to your room. Otherwise, someone'll have to drag you all the way back here.”

“Thank you. I will keep that in mind. Good day.”

He quickly exited the office. He was fine.

He had to get back to the dorms.

But he also had to get his materials.

He couldn't do his homework without his materials.

He'd have to go up the elevator or the stairs to do that.

He would rather do the former.

His legs practically carried him on their own to the nearest elevator.

Come to think of it, there was still the roof.

Right.

There was still the roof.

It wasn't far.

And he planned on going up there anyway.

He could go and watch at the sunset.

Then he could go back down and back home.

He liked that idea.

He pressed the button for the top floor.

But he was tired.

So tired.

He rested his weight on the wall the second the doors closed. His lids threatened to stay shut with every blink. He had to resort to pressing still-tender areas to keep awake. He wished he could think of a more pleasant solution.

He exited when it reached its destination. The hall was empty. Lights flickered on as they sensed movement. There were no other sounds.

He trudged up the small flight of stairs nearby and left through the rooftop door. No one was there. The door wasn't locked.

Pink clouds painted the evening sky. How pretty.

No one was there. He dragged himself behind the mechanical penthouse. No one was there. No one who looked through the door's window would be able to see him. The sky looked nice, but he couldn't see the sun.

The walls were too high. He couldn't muster the strength to climb them. Normally he would sit atop it and gaze at the setting sun. Perhaps in a few minutes he would. He needed a break.

He sat down, and propped his back against the metal housing. The concrete below was not comfortable in the slightest, but his lids felt heavy. He was tired. Dark Shadow materialized and curled in his lap. He laid a hand to rest on it. His senses fell hazy. He didn't want to move from that spot. He doubted he'd have the energy to even if he did.

He'd have to take a small nap. Just enough so he could make it back to the dorms before supper.

Right.

Supper.

He was hungry.

So hungry.

But he was tired.

He needed sleep.

Just a small nap, though.

Just a little one.

Just... a few. . . m i n u t e s . . .

. . .

. .

He was awoken by the ring of his phone.

He must have fallen over at some point. He was lying on the ground, using his arm as a pillow. He was groggy like before, but his consciousness did not threaten to fade once more, at least.

He opened his eyes, then looked up. Twilight stretched across the open sky. It was a blessing that someone called to rouse him. He would have lost control of his quirk had he slept until the dead of night.

Speaking of which, Dark Shadow reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. It swiped open the screen to answer the call. Tokoyami wasn't sure who it could be beyond his parents. They had called last week to check in on him. Perhaps they wished to do so again.

It would be alright to let Dark Shadow talk for a few minutes while he let himself grow more alert. His mother in particular found amusement in talking to it (she often referred to it and Tokoyami together as 'the boys', despite them only being one person). It could easily fill her in on how school was going. He would get up and do some stretches, then continue the conversation as he returned to the dorms.

“Hi Asui!”

Wait. What?

He pushed himself into a sitting position. Why would one of his classmates be calling him?

“...Tokoyami? You sure sound chipper.”

“Dark Shadow, actually. But close-enough~!”

“Give me that.” Tokoyami yanked the phone out of its grasp. Dark Shadow gave a sad whine, but made no effort to take it back. He anticipated some lip, but perhaps that would not be until the latter stages of dusk.

He put the phone to his ear and answered it himself. He really didn't need an emergency right now.

“This is Tokoyami speaking. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, we're fine.” Asui's voice was unvarnished as usual. Tokoyami could hear a small clamor in the background. It appeared to be no different from the usual ruckus. “It's dinnertime. Are you gonna come down?”

Everyone in Class A had their own routine after the day's lessons, but they would all gather together for supper at the appointed time. Some would come earlier to prepare the meal when it was their turn; they had a schedule set up for all the facets of preparation, setup, and cleanup and rotated those in each position accordingly. But when the food was served, it was expected that everyone would be there.

There were exceptions, of course: Ill health could keep one in their room, and so could fatigue. The only rule was to tell another they would not be coming. There were no headcounts taken, but a missing presence was glaringly obvious during such a regular gathering.

“Ah... I'm a tad occupied at the moment. My apologies”

Tokoyami felt a small pang of guilt at not being there, but it could not be helped given his current circumstances. He hoped he did not cause any undue concern.

“Don't worry about it. Do you want us to bring some up for you?

“I'm not in my dwelling, so it happens.” Or even in the dorm building for that matter. “And I don't think I will be back before the meal is finished.”

“...Where are you then?”

“One of the rooves of the main building.”

“You're on the roof?” Asui's voice carried an unfamiliar hint of incredulity. Tokoyami couldn't blame her.

“Indeed.”

“Oh yeah, he goes up there sometimes.” Kirishima's voice could be heard in the background. He had once gone up with Tokoyami after asking what he did once their classes ended. He seemed to enjoy the view, but preferred more vigorous after-school activities. The only others to ever join him were Kouda and Shouji: The former would occasionally come to talk wish the birds, and the latter would only come sporadically to meditate.

He vaguely wondered if anyone else would come check it out now that they presumably all knew.

“Okay, so what're you doing up there?”

“I... took a small nap earlier, but it appears to have lasted longer than I anticipated.”

“Alright, so nothing happened?”

“I'm perfectly safe, I assure you.”

He pushed himself up. A pulse of blood rushed to his head. He was still tired, but he could walk. He was hungry too, now that he thought about it. Hopefully there would be leftovers when he got back.

“Are you coming back now, then?”

“I am.” He turned the corner and started towards the door. “But once again, don't feel you have to wait. I doubt I'll be back before you finish.”

It took five minutes to reach the main entrance from their dormitory. He had never gathered he materials from the classroom, so it would be at least another ten minutes before he got out of the building itself. He looked at the time. The faster eaters likely finished already. He wouldn't want to delay the dishes being done before he got back.

“Do you want us to leave something out for you?”

“There is no need to do so. I'll warm up some of the leftovers, if there are any-”

He grabbed the door handle and attempted to turn it.

It wouldn't.

He tried turning it the other way.

Same result.

He jiggled the handle either direction. Perhaps it was just stuck.

It wasn't.

“...The door's locked, isn't it.”

Sigh.

“It's locked.”

Great. Just what he needed. He facepalmed.

“Do you need us to come get you?”

No, he didn't-

“Woohoo! Rescue mission!” Ashido cheered in the background, though Tokoyami was unsure how her quirk could be of any use in his situation. It was a bit preemptive to make that assessment, anyhow.

“We should not act on out on out own.” Iida could be heard trying to act as a voice of reason. “There's a list of emergency contact numbers for a reason. We should call someone and ask them to unlock the doors so he can get down.”

“Nah man, we got this.” Sero piped up with an argument of his own. “We got the quirks and the know-how. It'll be easy!”

“I think me and Bakugou-kun could make it up there and back pretty fast,” Uraraka added. “Whaddaya say?”

“Birdbrain can go fucking save himself.” He wondered how it was that he agreed with Bakugou's assessment the most thus far, of all people.

“He saved your life today. You should return the favor.” Todoroki's addition was the most unexpected yet.

“No he fucking didn't. I had that, you half-n-half bastard.”

“I think it would be the quickest way, though” Midoriya was already considering the logistics of Uraraka's plan. “Uraraka-san's quirk could get you both up there without the effects of gravity slowing you down. And if it was used on Tokoyami-kun as well, they could both hold onto you without affecting your trajectory. You would be able to move in a straight line back to Heights Alliance without having to cover extra distance by directly descending and then taking the path-”

“No one fucking cares what you think, Deku.”

“I assure you that that will not be necessary.” Tokoyami did not require assistance. And he didn't want any fights started on his behalf. “It will be a simple matter to lower myself down the side of the building.”

“You sure? I don't want you hurting yourself if you don't have to.”

“I'm positive, though I thank you for your concern.”

“Tokoyami-chan says he's fine.” Asui called out to the rest of the group. “He's gonna try getting down on his own.”

“Booooo! You're no fun!” Being stuck on a roof was not fun, Ashido.

“Tell him if he's not back soon we're gonna come get him anyway.” Kirishima didn't seem to think Tokoyami could hear everyone else besides Asui.

“Okay.” Asui sounded farther away for a moment as she replied to him. “Kirishima says-”

“I heard. And I shall.”

“Alright.” It looked to be the end of the call. He began to move toward the nearest of the side walls. “And Tokoyami-chan?”

“Yes?”

“Be safe, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Asui.”

He hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket.

He sent Dark Shadow to latch on top of the wall. It pulled him to the top when it had a firm-enough grasp on it. There was no fence – the concrete rim at the top of each tower functioned well-enough to bar most people from an accidental fall.

But now that he was on top of it, there were no protections beyond his own efforts. He looked down. The fall would certainly kill him if he jumped from there, which made it all the more irritating that he felt the urge to do so. But he had more than enough sense than to follow it.

He instead walked along the wall, and stopped when he reached a portion where a connecting bridge lay directly beneath him.

He anchored Dark Shadow onto the wall. It would be a simple task to belay himself down. He'd land on the bridge, then lower himself to the grounds from there.

Perhaps he could make the trip in one fell swoop, but it would behoove him not to stretch Dark Shadow too thin. The building as a whole was gargantuan – he was not sure if he could even make it halfway down before his quirk would no longer be able to support him.

Apprehension wormed its way through him as he considered the possibility. He had never lowered himself such a distance. If he couldn't the make it, the fall would be a long way down. He knew how to land to minimize injury: If he couldn't lower himself to even the bridge, he would probably be able to land on the bridge without gaining grievous injuries. But it would multiply the now-dull ache of his healed bruises. He didn't want to regain that pain so soon.

But he already refused his classmates' help. He didn't wish to trouble them anymore than he already had. He didn't want them to worry about him hurting himself. At most, they should only have to think of the whole situation as a careless mistake that was easily remedied. Concern for him was the last thing they should have to feel.

He would have to trust in his own abilities. He would need to change his perception of the situation. He didn't know if he could make it, but this would be a good test of his skills. He would likely not have a chance to do something like this again for a long time. He could hay while the sun shined, as the adage went.

He crouched, and turned around. He wanted to stay stable.

He climbed down the concrete rim. He hung off it with his hands.

Dark Shadow wrapped around him. He held onto it like a safety line.

He began to descend.

Everyone was already discussing the possibility of planning their own practice rescue missions at night when he returned. The dishes had been cleaned and the leftovers put away, but no one had left the common area.

He was greeted as he entered. Sero waved him over to join in on their discussion. Tokoyami obliged. They inquired about his condition. He told them he was fine. There was no sense in mulling over it.

They instead discussed the possibility of weekly campus rescue missions. On the roof. In the groves. In the gyms. In the dorms. There were plenty of places, and plenty of possibilities. Hide and seek, time limits, obstacles, stealth – nothing that would draw too much attention (they didn't want to disturb any of the other classes, after all).

They talked, planned, and joked until it was well-past curfew. They formulated a multitude of practice missions they could do on their own time. Tokoyami ignored the aches in his legs.

It was a good outcome.

“Hey, Tokoyami-chan.”

It was early in the morning. Asui stood at the kitchen counter. She looked to be making her lunch for the day, and didn't turn to face him as she spoke.

No one else was there. Most of their classmates had not awoken: living on campus allowed them to sleep in late, and many would find not doing so a squandered opportunity (especially given how long their impromptu meeting the day before lasted). The ones who were awake had gone out for morning exercises, and would likely not return for some time.

Tokoyami, however, had a set time to wake up at regardless of how little sleep he got. He found that it let him elude the morning weariness that plagued so many of the others. Though he never asked her to confirm, he could only assume that Asui felt the same way in regards to her morning routine.

“Good morning, Asui.”

He walked to the fruit basket on the table next to her and grabbed an apple. Ah, Eden's most prized treasure, bountiful among the modern-day masses. That there was fresh produce so readily available was a perk at U.A. unacknowledged by most, but appreciated by Tokoyami himself. And with a variety of brands, no less-

“Can we talk?”

Ah, so this fruit-induced morning reverie was not meant to be. Disappointing, but Asui did not start conversations with weighted words without good reason.

Perhaps it was because yesterday's confrontation lay fresh in his mind (as well as a small bout of fatigue from Recovery Girl's treatment), but he had an inkling as to what it was about.

“I presume this is about our conversation before?” The one they had with Kouda at the lunch table, he meant. What transpired the previous night was not worth going over.

“That's right.”

Asui nodded. Tokoyami grabbed a plate out of the cupboard.

“We may, though I would prefer we move to a more private location.” He opened a drawer and grabbed a fruit knife. “But I suppose none of our peers are likely to intrude for now.”

“Yeah. Everyone's asleep.”

Though it would be better to be safe than sorry. He summoned his quirk.

“Keep watch for any of our peers, Dark Shadow.”

“A'ight.” Dark Shadow slithered off to the elevators, though still obviously tethered to Tokoyami. Asui's gaze followed it.

“Is that really necessary?”

“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” It was always during personal conversations that fate sent unplanned guests. Best to nip that possibility in the bud.

They worked in silence. Asui scooped rice into her bento. Tokoyami stabbed the knife into his apple, and worked the knife to cut the apple into halves. There was no need to use a cutting board if holding it in his hand would suffice; though he would often forego the task entirely and let Dark Shadow perform it instead; it enjoyed the simplicity of domestic chores when the area it worked in was well-lit.

Asui was the first to speak. She didn't look away from her task.

“Bakugou-chan's hiding something, isn't he.”

Tokoyami placed one of the halves on his plate. His assumption was correct. Her perspicacity was not to be underestimated.

“It appears so, unfortunately.” He cut the core out of the apple half still in hand in one smooth motion.

“Do you know what it is?”

“I have my theories.”

“But you don't wanna make anyone worry.”

“That is correct.” He saw the consequences of doing so that time Jirou let slip she heard All Might was sick. Though even if he hadn't, it was still Bakugou's own private business.

“So what do you think it is?”

“Before I begin, I must ask: What knowledge have you obtained?”

“That you're worrying about him instead.” Asui tapped rice off her spoon.

That... though correct, was not how he would describe it. There was only calm observation from afar of plaguing issues that required assistance. Tokoyami merely saw a peer in need and wished to help alleviate his symptoms. Nothing more.

But regardless, Tokoyami's concern was the least of Bakugou's problems.

“What of Bakugou himself?” He cut the core out of the apple's other half. “I'd like to prevent a redundant conversation if possible.”

“It's something personal. Also he sometimes gives you dirty looks when you're not paying attention.”

“I... see.” Tokoyami knew Asui preferred not to beat around the bush, so he could safely assume that meant she knew about as much the rest of their classmates. He respected her veracity – it allowed for a smooth conversation without having to exercise excess caution.

“So what do you know?”

He discarded the cut cores, and began to cut the halves into slices.

“As you said, it's personal.”

One by one, the slices fell onto his plate.

“And that's why you won't tell anyone.”

“I'd rather not throw a cat among the pigeons.” Asui was an affable companion he could trust to keep secrets, but these were not his to reveal.

“That bad, huh.” He appreciated her understanding.

“Unfortunately.” As he finished slicing, he opened the dishwasher and slid the knife inside. “And recent events have done nothing to mitigate it.”

“It's been going on since before summer camp?” A hint of surprise crept into her normally level voice.

“...Yes.” As loud as Bakugou was, he wouldn't expect the girls to have heard their conversation (with perhaps the exception of Jirou, who hadn't mentioned it since). Aizawa-sensei or one of the other teachers would have likely intervened at that point.

“What happened?”

“I cannot say for certain.”

“Did you ask him directly?”

“I did.”

“What happened then?”

“An argument, unfortunately.”

“About what's bugging him?”

“Correct.”

“Huh. You don't seem like the type to argue.”

“I like to think so.”

“Have you told any of the teachers?”

“It is not my place to do so.” Especially since Tokoyami almost did something much worse when the villains attacked their training camp. “And I would prefer that you not do so either.”

Bakugou still performed well-enough that forced counseling would likely do more harm than good. It could not be helped.

“Yeah. He'd probably act like he did when he won the tournament.” It was an amusing mental image, but not an event anyone in their class would like to relive. “So how long have you known?”

“I only realized something was the matter the night we arrived at our summer excursion.”

“And those monsters we fought in the forest couldn't be it.”

“It is not a likely possibility.”

“But he wouldn't tell you what was wrong?”

“It was clear that pride came before a fall; but no, he did not.”

“To be honest, I'd think you were crazy if I didn't see what happened with him and Ashido-chan yesterday.”

“Skepticism is understandable.” Though he wondered what she thought of if it before that incident.

“Have you tried talking with him again about it? Well- besides on the bus that one time.”

Ah, so she remembered that. Tokoyami wondered how many others did as well.

“...” He wasn't sure if he could count the conversation they had after the previous day's exercise. It was less effective than either prior attempt, and only made clear just how nearly futile it would be to make any progress.

Asui appeared to sense a change in the mood.

“Here.” She held up a tamagoyaki.

“Oh um-” The sudden offer caught him off guard. “Thank you. I'd be much obliged.”

He gingerly took the small rolled omelet from Asui and examined it. No burns. Even layer thickness. She clearly had experience making them.

He took a bite. It was even more delicious than it looked.

He hadn't eaten anything yet, had he – the apple slices on his plate were untouched. He had gotten too lost in his thoughts. Finally having something in his stomach helped alleviate that. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

It must have reached his face. A small smile formed on Asui's.

He finished the morsel and took a deep breath.

“I just wish I knew to help him.”

There was no sense in attempting to wheedle Bakugou into talking about his problems. Tokoyami already knew he would only take it as an insult. And the following confrontation would likely turn physical.

He wasn't sure how one would even build a rapport with Bakugou. Perhaps Shouji would have some better answers if he asked (being one of the most calm and level-headed members of Class A). If Bakugou hated Tokoyami, at least there was one other option he could turn to.

“Kirishima might know something.”

Well. Yes. He supposed he could ask Kirishima for assistance – he was Bakugou's closest friend in their class, after all. But while it would likely be the best option in an ideal scenario, Tokoyami wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he drove their friendship apart. Kirishima was stubborn when he wanted to be; he would want to fix Bakugou's ailment entirely. It would stand to reason that he wouldn't leave Bakugou alone once he knew.

“I can only assume that Kirishima would have already confronted him if he knew. And I'd prefer not to be the end of their friendship.”

“Fair enough.” Asui's bento looked complete. She put the top on it and tied the box in a bandanna. “There's Midoriya. They've been friends since they were kids. You could ask him.”

That was a good idea.

Bakugou was peculiarly reticent. On one hand, he readily voiced his both his confidence and dissatisfaction at a moments notice. On the other, it seemed like he'd rather have his teeth pulled than express fear or weakness of any sort. He would acknowledge made mistakes, but only enough to say it was an error – anything in regards to emotion would be left unspoken, regardless of how clear it was to a peer. There was no method Tokoyami could think of that would get past that barrier.

But perhaps an old friend would know something.

Midoriya was equally as stubborn as Kirishima when he wanted to be, if not more so. But he also knew Bakugou well-enough that he would not likely confront him about the issue unless someone was in danger. Asking for advice would hopefully not change anything within their relationship.

Everything would continue like normal. That was the best outcome.

“That does seem like the best course of action to take. Thank you, Asui.”

“No problem. And call me Tsuyu-chan.”

A silence hung in the air between them.

“Until we meet again, Tsuyu...-chan.” The use of her forename felt almost like he was speaking in an entirely different tongue. It would definitely take some getting used to.

“Yeah. See you in class, Tokoyami-chan.”

Their goodbye in itself was a superficial gesture. He simply moved to the couch in front of the TV, not even out of sight of the kitchen area, and turned on the television to show the morning news. There was talk of a festival and how quirks were incorporated into it (as well as the amount of licensing to be done), and he ate his apple slices one by one (not before calling Dark Shadow back and giving it one as well).

Today's apple for the day was a pink lady. Hell yeah.

Asu- Tsuyu joined him minutes later after she cleaned up the counter, a breakfast plate of her own in hand. It was a touch awkward given their parting words, but neither of them thought to mention it. Nor did they attempt to continue the conversation.

There was nothing more to say.

“Midoriya, a word?”

Tokoyami stood outside Midoriya's room. The latter's schedule was very structured, even on days off. It wasn't hard to find him during the time he was on campus. But being a neighbor living only a two rooms away afforded the chance to converse discretely. And he sincerely doubted that Aoyama or Mineta would want to listen in.

It was not unreasonably late, in his opinion. The sun had long-since gone down, but he could almost guarantee that no one was asleep yet. And Midoriya was not; he looked quite alert when he answered the door.

“Oh hey, Tokoyami.” Midoriya glanced past him, likely to check if there was anyone else with him, then nodded. “What's up?”

“Pardon my lack of formalities, but it's about Bakugou.” There was no need to dress his request with small-talk. “I'd like to ask a few questions, if that would be alright.”

“Well um,” Midoriya looked to the side and scratched his cheek, “we haven't exactly been friends since we were little kids; but I'll answer what I can!” He likely discerned that that would be the only reason to ask him anything Bakugou-related. It was hard to imagine Midoriya being friends with someone so invective. But there were some things that only a childhood friend would be cognizant of. “Here. Come in.”

Midoriya took a step back and let him in, and closed the door shortly after Tokoyami was inside.

“Thank you. Pardon the intrusion.”

“Not at all! I was just doing some reading.” Tokoyami moved to the desk chair and Midoriya to his bed. They sat down. Midoriya's hands sat loosely interlocked in his lap, legs crossed.

“So um... what do you wanna know?”

“Well, to begin...” Tokoyami folded his arms. “I noticed during our summer excursion that Bakugou was wearing a pair of gloves to bed. What were they for?” He chose to begin with something innocuous. Delving directly into Midoriya's knowledge of Bakugou's psyche could quickly flip Tokoyami's position as the inquisitor to the inquisited.

“Well... I remember he'd wear them to bed when we were kids. They were there to keep him from burning his sheets after he got his quirk.”

It was a sensible explanation for why he had them that night. Though it seemed like a habit one would grow out of as they got older.

“Has he always worn them at night since then?”

Midoriya itched his scalp.

“That's the weird thing: As far as I knew, he hasn't needed them since first grade.” Interesting.

Midoriya blinked, then looked like a light bulb lit above his head. He continued.

“Is this about what you two were talking about during summer camp?”

“...I suppose we did cause quite a stir.” Tokoyami sighed. Thankfully they didn't get reprimanded by any adults. “What did he do after our conversation?”

“Oh right, you slept out in the other room.” Midoriya nodded. “After he came back in, he dragged his futon over by ours.” He looked up to the ceiling with a finger to his chin, trying to remember something else. “I think he threw off his gloves too.”

“Did he sleep well?”

“I think so. He didn't wake us up again after that.”

“That's good to hear. And to answer your question before: Yes, it is. I'd like to help him, if possible.”

“Did something happen? Well- before he got kidnapped, of course.” Midoriya winced at that last part. Tokoyami couldn't blame him. The scars were still clearly visible. “It didn't look like there was anything wrong with him, even though he was acting kinda weird.”

So he knew nothing of the nightmares.

“...Nothing you weren't already aware of, I'm afraid. I was just a mite concerned for his well-being.” Midoriya knew that Bakugou left their communal sleeping space. He knew that Bakugou and Tokoyami had an argument. He even likely knew the incident that caused of Bakugou's ailment.

But perhaps it was for the best that he didn't connect those incidents.

“Well...” Midoriya scratched his hair and looked to the side. “I hope everything's okay. What happened with him and Ashido before was a lot, even for him.”

“Has he always behaved in this manner?”

“He never blew up like that, but he'd always get mad if someone tried to help him – even when we were kids.”

“Is there any method you would recommend to do so?”

“To help...?” A look of confusion flashed across Midoriya's face, like he was surprised that someone would even consider the idea.

“Well... I'm not sure, to be honest. Kacchan's not like the rest of us.” Midoriya continued to speak. Tokoyami continued to listen.

“Well uh- don't get me wrong – I don't mean that in a bad way or anything.” He waved his hands frantically in front of his chest, then let them fall back to his legs.

“It's just that... well... he's never needed help for something like that. He's always been so good at whatever he does that he's never had to ask anyone for it.”

“Did he have any friends with which he could confide in should the need arise?” Tokoyami broke Midoriya's string of sentences with another question. It was clear that though Midoriya knew Bakugou since childhood, Bakugou felt a great amount animosity towards him. If there was anyone that would fit the bill, he obviously wasn't it.

“I... don't think so, to be honest. He played with me and the other kids in the neighborhood, but we were more like lackeys than friends.” It was surprising how calm Midoriya sounded saying that. “He never let anyone know if he felt sad or scared, and I don't think that's changed.”

“I think part of it was that he was better than everyone at pretty much everything up through middle school. It wasn't until we got to U.A. that he was around people that were at his level.” It was curious that Midoriya didn't consider himself in that metric, given his own considerable strength. Perhaps it was a relic of the palpable diffidence he exhibited at the beginning of the school year, a feeling that appeared to have been eroded over the course of the following months.

“And he's never had problems in school. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't have any problems at home – his parents are pretty nice.” Tokoyami wondered if Bakugou's parents knew of the nightmares as well. The fact that his mental health hadn't gotten better and he wasn't undergoing any counseling made it highly doubtful.

“So... if there's something wrong now, it might just be that he doesn't know how to deal with it.” That was a simple conclusion, and the same that Tokoyami came to.

“But he's stubborn, he's selfish, and he won't let anyone help him.” Midoriya sighed and scratched the back of his head. His voice carried no resentment, though his words could be easily interpreted as such. It was rather peculiar. “And if you try and press him it'll just push him away.” And it wouldn't be pleasant either – Tokoyami's attempts at coaxing earned him disproportionate hostility.

“To cast pearls before swine,” Tokoyami sighed as well. It was unfortunate.

“And if there is something wrong, and he's not in any danger...” Midoriya grimaced and fidgeted with the bottom hem of his t-shirt. “It might be better to wait and let him figure it out himself.”

Though Midoriya was the one to make the suggestion, it clearly troubled him. Tokoyami knew well the lengths to which he was willing to go in order to aid another. It spoke volumes that this was the answer he came up with.

“That does seem to be the case,” Tokoyami nodded, “though I do wish there was a better option.”

There was no 'operation' they could create, and no plan he could think of that would follow through with even a minute amount of success. For anyone else in their class, something of the sort would let them get closer. But Bakugou would only feel cornered. He was stuck on not being weak, and talking to him about any form of hardship he couldn't brush off would only push him further away.

It was... frustrating to say the least.

“Well, that's Kacchan for you.” Midoriya tilted his head apologetically. “Sorry I couldn't be of more help.”

“No, it's quite alright. I appreciate you answering my questions.”

“I'll tell you if I remember anything else. Just be careful, alright?” A small chuckle was tacked onto the end of those words. He sounded almost wistful.

“I will. And thank you again once more for your assistance.” He got up off his seat. “If you would like a helping hand in the future, I will not hesitate repay my debt.”

“Oh no, it's no problem!” Midoriya waved his hands bashfully. “I'd be happy to answer more questions, if you have them.”

“Thank you, Midoriya. I will if any more come to mind.”

And with that they said their goodbyes. Tokoyami left the room and returned to his own.

He gained some knowledge through that conversation, but less than he had hoped. Even a childhood friend knew not what to do: Bakugou's stubbornness ran deep since his youth, to the point that he would not accept help of any sort. And he hid it well-enough that no one else seemed to have noticed – at most it was assumed to be Bakugou's natural moodiness, and left alone to hopefully be grown out of.

But that wasn't how it worked. Nightmares and all the other symptoms he exhibited would not go away in due time, especially in their planned profession. There would be a myriad of villains trying to kill them, and many times with quirks that could capture like Ashido's. Left unchecked, he could go too far just once and be banished from the world of heroes entirely.

A therapist or even a counselor could help, but it was not Tokoyami's place to air Bakugou's dirty laundry to others. It would require a miracle for Bakugou to even consider the idea himself, but suggesting the idea in his stead would likely set him back more than anything. He would stuff his emotions down further until they risked boiling over.

But it felt wrong to leave Bakugou alone to face his inner turmoil by himself. He was rude, brash, and terribly uncouth; but beyond that rough exterior lay a heart just as heroic he rest of their peers. It would be horrible if he succumbed to his inner demons before he could do anything great. But he had no coping mechanisms beyond denial, battle, and containment. And those were not things he could reasonably keep up while living a normal, healthy life.

Tokoyami sighed.

Was there really nothing he could do?

Tokoyami supposed it was his own hubris that made him want to help Bakugou.

There was no way to know how much of his conjecture was true and how much of it was only in his own head. What he did know was that there had been an incident about a year prior: A mud man with the ability to take over bodies was apprehended by All Might. He had heard about it on the evening news, but it wasn't until the sports festival that he realized the incident was connected to one of his classmates.

And it wasn't until just recently that Tokoyami had even put the pieces together. He felt a sense of shame for not recognizing Bakugou's symptoms sooner. Bakugou came with a certain baggage distinct from their other classmates; with signs Tokoyami was well-acquainted with:

Nightmares.

Self-isolation.

Volatile emotions.

Hypervigilance.

The list went on.

The gloves were something to be expected. His reactions to certain situations were understandable. Bakugou may have escaped the incident relatively unharmed, but it never left him. Being kidnapped and held captive not even a year later certainly couldn't have helped.

But on top of all that, his stubbornness prevented him from seeking any kind of assistance. And his naturally abrasive demeanor easily mislead others into dismissing certain odd reactions as normal. He was strong. He was a prodigy. He stood at the top of their class. It was often thought that such people could not have such ailments. And he suppressed it in turn.

It was likely why they had that conversation that night during their summer excursion; the remnants of an experience so unpleasant could manifest at the most unwelcome times. It was likely why Bakugou panicked during that training exercise; capture by viscous liquid coupled with the desperation to escape it could have triggered those buried memories. It was even likely the reason he couldn't remain calm when he fell in that mud.

But he still would not ask for help, or even take up an offer for it.

Obstinance aside, it was easy to think of those feelings as invalidated when there were others who had arguably gone through harder times than oneself. There were people who had gone through far worse than Bakugou. Iida, for example, had nearly lost his brother to a villain; and nearly fell to that same villain himself. Aizawa-sensei was nearly slain trying to defend their class, and had to recover for a relatively long time after. Midoriya had multiple close-encounters with villains and gained grievous injuries almost every single time.

Bakugou was almost consumed, was kidnapped, and could have been killed himself in either scenario; but he made it out if those situations none the worse for wear. He held no lasting damage anywhere besides his mind. Falling for the fallacy of relative privation could easily send one into denial. Refusal to acknowledge anything was amiss was a method to retain some semblance of normalcy.

But while Bakugou could palliate his symptoms as much as he wished, it wouldn't remove the problem at hand.

Though even in the event that he did accept Tokoyami's help, Tokoyami wasn't a substitute for a genuine therapist – and he was well-aware that suggesting Bakugou visit one would not make him actually go. Having someone to share the pain with would lessen it, but it would not be a cure. He was not a member of Bakugou's family, nor even his friend for that matter. The most he could do was attempt to gently push Bakugou in the direction his own counselor did all those years ago.

Tokoyami groaned. Thinking in circles like this would not get him anywhere.

He lay on his bed, surrounded only by the ambient light of dimmed lamps. Electricity and air conditioning were all that relieved him from complete silence. He checked the time on his phone. It was past midnight. Being the weekend, there were no classes to be had the following morning. But it would behoove him to rest nonetheless.

And yet he could not find it in himself to turn on the lights. It would be of no use even if he did. Tokoyami's weariness was only physical – he felt no less alert than he did during the day. There was a distinct irony in the fact that he had a predilection for dark places: While their tranquility put him at ease, he couldn't risk falling asleep in them lest Dark Shadow take over.

Speaking of which.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and summoned the aforementioned quirk. It sprang up from the floor in front of him. Another opinion was welcome, even if from something not-quite human. Bad news would travel fast in the wrong hands. A tenebrous apparition could easily serve as an adequate substitute.

“I don't suppose you have any suggestions.”

It bobbed in place. A pair of arms emerged from where one could expect on it, only to fold in front of its chest.

“I'm you, genius. Think of it yourself.”

He grimaced and folded his arms. Dark Shadow was indeed a part of him, but at times their opinions couldn't be more different. Meek in daylight, restive at night, and with no middle ground whatsoever. He long pondered the origin of either disposition; he had still not come to a reasonable conclusion.

“Regardless, I would like to hear your opinion on the matter.”

It stuck its nose in the air.

“Well, if you ask me, that Bakugou kid won't listen unless you beat him.”

No, Dark Shadow. Violence was not the answer.

“I must disagree. Given his drive, it would only spur him to target us for future battles.”

“And what's wrong with that? We love fighting!” Indeed he did, but there was a time and place for everything and that wasn't it.

“Fighting is not right way to go about it.” It would only aggravate him, which would send him down the exact opposite path he was supposed to take to recover.

“And exactly how did you think your idea was going to work again?”

“By acknowledging those feelings and working through them, he would be able to move past what ails him.”

Raking over the ashes would never be a pleasant experience, but it could be therapeutic to a degree. Rather than replaying those memories in a continuous cycle around one's own mind, describing them could lessen their effects.

“Yeah, because that worked so well for you.” He winced. That was a low blow.

“I'm able to control you quite well given my level of experience.” As well as one in a developing emotional state could control a nihilistic phantom with a thinly veiled lust for destruction.

“Which is why you just about murdered that guy when you were in the forest. Because you can 'control' me.”

“What happened during our summer training camp was an exception, not the rule.”

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“We hadn't had a rampage for a long time prior to that incident.” Many years, in fact. And hopefully it would be many more before the need to do so would arise again.

“And what's the reason it happened last time?”

“A most unfortunate lapse in judgment.” He squeezed his upper arm at the memory. “One that served as a reminder of the importance of self-control, which I have since honed.”

“Such a shame.” It swayed with a singsong tune. “All those pesky emotions with nowhere to go. It'd be a lot healthier to let them out!”

Dark Shadow itself was merely an amalgamation of tumultuous emotions locked away in his inner sanctum. It wanted any excuse it could get to rampage. It held an insatiable desire for chaos – many people did; but few could unwillingly release it in a physical form.

And because of that, Tokoyami had to keep a tight reign on his thoughts and feelings. He did not wish to cause any undue harm to others, and that required control.

“My emotions are dealt with appropriately, thank you.” He had long-since worked to pursue the art of longanimity. He was person whose troubles would not leave. There was nothing that could be done about it. But that didn't mean he had to trouble others with them. And he wouldn't.

“Oh please. All you do is bottle them up and pretend they're not even there.”

“Everyone keeps some of their true feelings hidden. I am no exception.” He rapped a set of fingers on his arm. “And by doing so, I am able to interact with my peers as a normal classmate, rather than as an abomination or monstrosity.”

Which he wasn't. He was a human like the other. He had a quirk like the others. All that separated him from them was the nature of that quirk. That was it.

“You say as you have all the personality of a cardboard cutout.”

“...And I can reign in your strength because of it.”

He did have a personality – he just held the more undesirable aspects of it at bay. By abnegating his emotions, he was able to spare himself the typical heartache of someone his age. He had been made well-aware of what puberty entailed since he was young. Knowing about the fluctuation in emotions let him identify them in advance and control them accordingly.

Because if he didn't, there could be dire consequences. He was lucky that the incident in the forest was not witnessed by any professional heroes. Even one uncontrollable rampage from Dark Shadow could preclude him becoming a hero.

Perhaps when he was an adult he would attempt to become more in touch with his emotions. But as it stood, it would do no good. It would merely give him unneeded stress during the years he least needed it.

“Oh please. If you really could, you'd be stronger than everyone; that Bakugou kid included.”

“I highly doubt it would make a difference.”

“Fight him with your full strength and see what happens.”

“I merely wish to aid him, not kill him.”

“Oh, you know what you REALLY want.”

A not-quite-solid arm wrapped around Tokoyami's shoulder. He held his posture rigid.

“You just want to have someone to project your own anxieties onto.”

He could feel the arm lengthen. It slithered down his own. He didn't move. Any sudden movements could aggravate it.

“You just want to think you know enough that you can play therapist and fix other people's problems.”

It covered his hand. He gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to fall for its taunts.

“You just want to project your need for FRIEEEENDS onto some poor sod who has enough on his plate as it is.”

It moved down his leg. He clenched his fist. He wasn't going to lash out at it.

“Really, how much of this do you think is because you're still feeling sooooo guilty that he got kidnapped and not you?”

It wrapped around his torso. The memory lurched in his stomach. It began to squeeze.

“So so guilty, and yet you were too much of a coward to go with them. Even when a cripple did.”

He couldn't tell if the tightness in his chest was his own or by the constriction.

“You couldn't even stop yourself from getting snatched up by that magician. What makes you think you can help anyone?”

He couldn't.

He was a mere child. And one without full control of his power.

If he couldn't use it, he was useless. If he used too much, he could hurt an innocent.

He didn't want to imagine what would've happened had Bakugou and Todoroki not put a stop to his rampage.

He didn't want to imagine what would have happened had bitten off anyone's arm besides Shouji's.

He could have permanently put an end to someone's hero career before it even began.

He didn't want that.

But there was always the possibility that it could happen.

He didn't want that.

But...

That didn't mean that he couldn't someday be hero he dreamed of becoming.

It was why he chose to go to U.A..

It was so he could grow his skills.

It was so he could learn to better utilize his power.

It was so he could help people.

He would.

He had to.

There was no point in doing all this otherwise.

“There will be a time when I can use my strength for the benefit of others.” The constriction added an uneasy croak to his voice. He heaved a deep breath. He could still breathe.

“You can't do anything on your own without ME.”

“...”

It was true that Dark Shadow was the source of his power.

“You don't have the strength to protect anyone, much less help them.”

Which was why he had to harness that power.

Without his quirk, he could do nothing.

Without control of his quirk, he could destroy everything.

There was a balance he had to strike, and internalizing his own quirk's derision was not the way to go about it. He was the master. It was his weapon. He was the one who would make the final decision.

“...But be that as it may, your suggestion is not one I'm going to follow.”

A fulsome tendril looped around his neck. Its grip around his torso and arms tightened.

“You know I'm right.”

“No. You're not.”

It was him, and he was it, but that didn't mean it couldn't be wrong. And it was wrong.

“Which is why you're making so much progress with your solution.”

“A peaceful solution takes time.” It did. All good things took time. That's why rash decisions were bad. He couldn't attack him. Fighting wasn't peaceful. Fighting would hurt everyone involved.

“You can't get through to him with words. Even that Midoriya kid thinks so.”

“There will be a time. I just have to wait for it.” Patience was a virtue. He had it and he had to keep it. Breaking it would ruin everything. He didn't want to ruin everything.

“If you really thought you could, you'd ask someone who was actually his friend.”

“I don't want him to feel he has to drive his friends away.” Bakugou was belligerent. But that didn't mean he deserved to be alone. But he would be if he pushed his friends away. Tokoyami didn't want him to have to go through that.

“Hm... I wonder why.”

Tokoyami shrank back. His head throbbed. Dark Shadow pulsed. The sound of a conniving grin stretched across its face.

“Like Midoriya said: He's not in any mortal danger.”

“And yet he keeps throwing himself in to all these little situations, doesn't he.”

“He merely wishes to stand at the top of our class.”

“More like he's so simple-minded he can't focus on anything besides being the best.”

“And I don't want to take that away from him.”

“Yeah. Because he can actually do it. Unlike you.”

“It has nothing to do with me.”

“He thinks he's your 'worst match up', but he's never had to fight you at full power.”

That didn't matter.

“If you prove just how strong you are, he'll have to listen to you.”

But he didn't want to.

“You could let yourself go.”

He couldn't.

“You could let me run wild.”

He wouldn't.

“You'll feel so much better.”

They were specious words coated in honey. He knew it. Dark Shadow knew it. But they both knew the urge to follow its advice lurched within him. They knew he welcomed true inner quiet. They knew part of him wished he could do it.

But catharsis was not worth it.

Dark Shadow flowed to his other shoulder in a smooth motion. A tendril gently stroked his cheek. Its breath was hot against his ear.

“Come on, Master.”

He shuddered.

“Let's show that brat who's really boss.”

No.

It enveloped his other arm.

No.

It enveloped his other leg.

No.

It slowly began to envelope his head.

NO.

“That's enough.”

He couldn't take any more of Dark Shadow's sophistry.

He couldn't listen to it anymore.

He had to focus.

He had to clear his mind.

“I'm sorry, but I cannot continue this conversation.”

He closed his eyes.

He set his thoughts to a blank static.

He set his attention to one portion of Dark Shadow's form.

He sent one of its tendrils to the switch by the door.

The bulb on his ceiling flickered on not even a moment later. It illuminated the entire room.

Dark Shadow seemed to burst off him in an instant. It was repelled by the light. It shrank back, and quickly slithered under the comforter.

Tokoyami took a deep breath. All pressing forces on him were gone. It was a relief.

“Don't do that!”

Tokoyami patted the blanket. Dark Shadow grunted underneath it.

“My apologies, but I'm afraid it was necessary.”

It was strange. Conversations with Dark Shadow rarely turned so... irrational? They could normally carry out any amount of small talk or tangential conversations (most often concerning games, manga, and the studying Tokoyami should be doing). Even in this low light, it behaved well-enough.

But he supposed there were certain topics that could trigger such a reaction in it. Tokoyami's frustration over the situation as a whole must have coupled with the days fatigue and festered like an open sore in the relative darkness. He would have to be more careful when talking to it; the dorms were one of the worst places an outburst could take place.

Perhaps that was why he was placed next to Aoyama in their dorm arrangements: Bakugou and Todoroki could use the light from their quirks to hold him back, but Aoyama's laser could end him quickly and effectively if need be. Tokoyami toyed with the idea of telling him that. Maybe some day after their classes ended and he had time to pull Aoyama aside. There was also the possibility of them being paired for an afternoon practice simulation, but a strenuous exercise was probably not the best place to discuss a possible contingency plan that involved actually killing someone.

…

It would be best save those thoughts for tomorrow. He needed to sleep.

He slipped under the covers himself. Dark Shadow nestled itself in the crook of his arm. He wrapped that arm around it. The room was quiet. It was calm. He closed his eyes.

He considered attempting to sleep in low light earlier, after that nap on the roof had ended without a rampage. But the night's event put a hold to that plan. Some time in the future he would do it.

He was not sure when.

But he would not hold a grudge over it (as disappointed as he was), nor for their conversation. Dark Shadow was him, and it would be foolish to hold animosity against something that was his responsibility in the first place. Especially something that was not an intelligent being in its own right.

Nor would he hold a grudge against Bakugou. It wasn't pity he felt; Bakugou's choices were his own and the consequences were his responsibility. Tokoyami could not change that, but he could attempt to understand their underlying reasons; though he disliked being able to do little more than act as a bystander. Especially when it put him in unnecessary danger.

But he supposed an ill temper was preferable to despondence. In their chosen career path, he would be able to channel those feelings somewhere productive. Even if it took a toll on his mental health in the process.

It was frustrating, but Tokoyami would have to be satisfied with watching from afar.

There was nothing else he could do for the time being.

He would do better to focus on himself for the time being.

To fine-tune his control over Dark Shadow.

To better his own self-control.

Yes. That would be the best choice for the moment.

A watched pot would never boil.

A/N: Considering how he got attacked by that mud monster and goop-warped, I wouldn't be surprised if Kacchan was at least a little nervous around viscous liquids.

Sorry if Kacchan seemed a tad OOC. I wrote a lot of this before the summer training arc happened so his character development after wasn't really reflected.

And I hope I did alright with Tokoyami's voice. I've taken it as a mix between formal and literary (as opposed to Kacchan's abrasiveness and Jirou's logic) for the most part.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #tokoyami #bakugou #mha fanfics #fanfics

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brick-boat-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Observance

Summary: Jirou would've gone with them too if she had any choice in the matter.

Word Count: 6.1k

FF.net: Here

AO3: Here

A/N: tfw u wanna make a small fic and get it out before the next chapter comes out and josses it but it balloons to over 6000 words.

Also this ties in with Get Well Soon, though I wouldn't call it a sequel. More like a side story-ish thing.

All it took to wake Jirou up was a buzz from her phone.

She lay in her hospital bed. The lights were off in the room – the nurses did it for all the patients at 21:00 so they could sleep. It couldn't have been that long since she conked out, but she was still groggy. She wished she could've gone home today.

Jirou wasn't a fan of hospitals. She avoided using her quirk to poke around and listen to whatever she could find, which made the whole experience one she wasn't looking forward to (even if she'd only experienced it a few times herself). She couldn't understand half the medical jargon the staff used; she didn't like to hear the disgusting sound of... fluids; and, to put it bluntly, hospitals were one of those places where the worst in people came out. When she listened around school, she could focus on the funny-but-trivial things she could laugh about with Kaminari. But in a hospital, it just felt inappropriate to listen in on other peoples' conversations (especially with how sensitive the subject matter could be). Maybe if she wanted to be a doctor or something it would be fine, but she wasn't going to pretend there was any chance of that happening.

Of course, she did make a preliminary sweep when she first woke up: Hagakure and Midoriya were the only people she knew in the hospital, though she recognized what sounded like some of the kids from Class B. Jirou considered visiting the latter to get a better idea of what happened (since they weren't talking about it on their own), but her legs almost buckling under her as she got off the bed put a sound end to that plan. Jirou and Hagakure were together when the villains attacked the training camp, and they had about the same amount of exposure to that poison gas; so the hospital put them in the same room. They also didn't take much damage beyond a few scrapes and whatever they breathed in, so they were told to sleep it out and then get discharged the next day.

Midoriya on the other hand was a few rooms down, though he apparently woke up way earlier than them, She didn't know what happened to him, but he signed out and exited the hospital around 19:30. She couldn't track him after he left: The ambient noise on the streets drowned him out with the sheer number of sounds populating it. But his steps oozed agitation as he walked out the entrance. She wondered if it had anything to do with what went on yesterday.

A nurse gave Jirou and Hagakure the gist of what happened at the training camp when she wheeled in their dinner. Some villains invaded, and the two of them were knocked out by poison gas before they realized anything was happening. Heroes came in and saved the day. It was a very bare bones explanation, but Jirou didn't think enough of it to press farther (though that might just have been the fatigue talking).

Apparently everyone else in Class A stopped by to visit earlier. Too bad Midoriya was the only one up at that point.

Her phone unlocked with a swipe of her thumb. She squinted when the screen turned out to be way brighter than she expected. She had a few new texts. They were from Kaminari.

>JIROU WAKE UP

>TURN ON THE TV. NOW.

She rubbed her eyes and looked at them again. Being yelled at in texts with decent grammar and no emojis wasn't something she expected first thing in the evening – well, it was more like the middle of the night. She looked at the time on her phone. It was a little after 23:00.

Wasn't it a little late to be texting? This conversation could wait until the morning, couldn't it? Though if it was on the TV right now it had to be airing right then. And even through text, it really sounded urgent. Where was that remote, anyway? She tapped out a response.

Okay isn't it kinda late though?<

>JUST DO IT

Jeez. Fine. The remote was over on the tray next to Hagakure. She stretched out one of her lobes and grabbed it. There was a bit of clacking, but if her phone buzzing wasn't enough to wake Hagakure up, this wouldn't be either. The TV flickered on with a press of the power button. It was set to the NHK station by default.

The first thing she saw was a helicopter view of a barren area about the size of a few city blocks. Building around the perimeter were collapsed on themselves. Smoke and debris drifted into the air. It looked like some kind of terrorist attack had taken place. What exactly happened? Her eyes focused as she saw a familiar figure, unmistakable even at that distance.

The TV was set to mute. It took only a few seconds to bring the remote back to her bed. The power button was big enough to hit with her jacks, but the others were too small. She turned up the volume.

“-It's hard to believe that a single villain could obliterate several city blocks and go toe-to-toe with the Symbol of Peace himself...”

So All Might was fighting a villain. And they were fighting on equal footing. There was already a ton of collateral damage. Was everyone else in her class watching this? The group chat was dead silent. Why did Kaminari contact her specifically? All Might fought a lot of villains, even in the condition he was in now. Besides how strong the villain was and the excessive amount of property damage, what made this fight in particular so different?

And more importantly...

What happened?<

By reflex, she did a quick sweep around the hospital, ignoring everything that didn't have sound similar to what she was hearing. A few TVs were on and set to the same channel (including some of those from rooms Class B kids were in), but no one was saying anything relevant. They had no extra information to give.

“Mn... What's going on...?” Hagakure mumbled from the other bed. Her bed springs creaked as she rolled over to face her.

Jirou pointed her thumb at the TV screen.

“Looks like All Might-sensei's fighting a villain.”

“At this hour?” Hagakure yawned. Her legs cracked as she stretched.

Jirou's phone buzzed again. Hagakure leaned over a bit out of what Jirou assumed to be curiosity.

“Who're you talking to?” She asked.

“Kaminari.”

“Isn't it kinda late?”

“That's what I told him.” She looked back down at her phone.

>Some of the others went to get Bakugou

Hold on.

Wait what happened to Bakugou?<

>Those villains who attacked us yesterday took him.

Jirou sat up so fast Hagakure almost jumped back. Blood rushed to her head in a pulse. She pulled the phone less than a foot away from her face and scanned the text over again. She hadn't misread it before. Gee Kaminari, why couldn't you have said that before?

Well, now she knew why this was so important. Some of their classmates were likely down there as this was happening. The reporter hadn't mentioned anything about U.A. students. The focus was on the fight, but the only consolation it gave was that they weren't right there battling alongside All Might.

She tried thinking of who those “others” Kaminari mentioned could be. It couldn't be too big a number; too many cooks in the kitchen was a definite consideration when someone's life was at stake. Obviously it wasn't Kaminari himself – he wouldn't be talking with her then. Anything Ashido did with her quirk would easily be traced back to her, so she'd sit it out. Iida was the class president, and it had to be against the rules, so he'd be out too. She toyed around with the likelihood of different classmates going along with some kind of rescue mission (that couldn't have been approved of by any authorities).

Had Jirou had any other quirk, she probably would've refused too if offered the chance; but this was something her quirk was practically made for. Kidnapping was definitely something best left to the authorities. But if there were others dead set on going that couldn't be convinced otherwise, she wouldn't feel right just leaving them to do it without her. Assuming they had a way to track down where the villains took Bakugou (which they had to; this plan wouldn't work otherwise), they still wouldn't have any idea of the building layouts or the locations of said villains, which would bemore than a little helpful if they wanted to avoid fights (which they also had to; said villains wouldn't hesitate to kill them if they were anything like the ones at USJ).

Bakugou was probably restrained in a similar way to how he was during the award ceremony, but somewhere not easily accessible. It had to have been over 24 hours since he was abducted. Did the villains even feed him? If they didn't, one of the group would probably have to carry him out (decreasing the combat-ready party members by one). Who would even be the best person to do that without losing mobility? Shouji?

She should've paid more attention to her surroundings during that test of courage. Then she wouldn't have been taken down by that gas and stuck in a hospital when her classmates were in danger.

But then there was Midoriya, who stuck out in particular. She thought back to earlier today. There was something definitely off about him, even though he didn't say what it was (to himself or otherwise). He and Bakugou were childhood friends. Even without a quirk suited for stealth missions (which is what this would have to be, if the group had any common sense whatsoever), he definitely would've been one of the first to volunteer.

She typed away. She needed to confirm it.

Wait Midoriya was in the hospital too<

I heard him leave earlier. Is that were he went?<

>So he did go...

So he didn't know Midoriya was going for sure? That meant the rescue mission wasn't his idea in the first place. Narrowing down the possibilities, it was probably Kirishima's; he seemed to be the guy Bakugou got along best with in class. And while she'd never talked with him at length, Kirishima really seemed like the kind of guy who would do it. It also explained why Midoriya left the hospital to meet the rescue team, rather than the other way around.

What was he in for anyway?<

It wasn't life-threatening; but there was definitely a reason he was stuck in the hospital. And it wasn't poison gas or else he would be stuck in his room too.

>He was the most banged up out of all of us actually

>Bruises everywhere

>I didn't even know arms could look like that they were totes busted

>Recovery Girl really had to go to town on him

>He probably should've stayed in bed honestly

Holy shit.

AND YOU GUYS DIDN'T STOP HIM?<

It was a testament to Recovery Girl's abilities that he'd be healed up and ready to leave that fast. But he couldn't have recovered all his strength in just a day. Jirou had heard about it during those conversations Recovery Girl had that involved him. Those attacks he'd use would straight-upshatter his bones. And it was only a matter of time before that damage was permanent. Which was only more likely to happen when he did it in quick succession.

>I didn't think he'd actually go

>He's one of the smartest guys in class I thought he'd stand down this time

Yeah. 'This time.'

Thinking back, it wasn't surprising. The guy broke his fingers one after another during the sports festival. It'd stand to reason that he'd think go along with it even in that condition.

But one Midoriya and Kirishima wasn't enough to break into a villain hideout. And Kaminari said “others”, which meant there had to be at least one more person was there.

Who else is there?<

>Kirishima and Todoroki are the only ones confirmed going. But I think Yaoyorozu's going too since she made the homing tracker.

So... Midoriya, Kirishima, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu.

Wait-

She looked at the TV again. If they were using their quirks, none of them were suited for a standard rescue mission besides MAYBE Yaoyorozu – and that was just because she could make keys and smoke bombs. Midoriya just punched things, Todoroki's quirk was too flashy (though it would be effective for taking down thugs en masse), and Kirishima could only function well as a bullet (and other things) shield and/or battering ram.

She pulled the phone away from her face. Her eyes were starting to hurt.

Where are they?<

>You're not thinking of actually going there are you?

Did she really need to answer that?

My quirk is one of the best in class for rescuing people<

For standard search and rescue operations, she was one of the most suited for it.

Look at those buildings. They might be trapped in one of them<

Or captured by villains. Or dead. She hated how those were the first things to come to mind. Where were all the other villains, anyway? It was weird how All Might was only fighting one villain. And how he was the only hero there for that matter.

Hagakure's up too we could sneak into the area easy using our quirks<

Speaking of which...

“Hey Hagakure.”

“Yes?”

“Wanna go?”

“There?” Hagakure pointed at the screen, or at least that's what Jirou figured she did.

“Yeah.”

“Are you crazy?! We're not even pro heroes! We'd just get in All Might's way!”

“All Might's not the one I'm worried about.”

“Wait, then who-”

“Apparently Bakugou got kidnapped-”

“What?! He's out there too?”

“And apparently Midoriya and a few others went to get him back.” Jirou set her hand flat in a lowering motion. Hagakure could be really loud when she wanted to be, which Jirou was usually fine with, but they were in a hospital and it was the middle of the night.

“Why would they do that?! So they want to get themselves killed?!” Hakagure's voice went down to a strong whisper. She grabbed her hair in frustration. Jirou could hear her nails lightly scratch her scalp.

“No, but they might be in danger.”

“Well what can we do?”

“You're invisible and I can hear where people are. Between the two of us, we can sneak in past whatever barricades the police set up and track them down.” The police wouldn't even know Midoriya and the others were there. And the amount of destruction meant that there had to be a lot of blind spots too. If they could just sneak in and out without any fuss or injuries, that would be the best scenario.

“Just a sec. I'll ask them where they are.” Hagakure grabbed her phone off the tray.

“Wait.”

Hagakure stopped right before she could select a phone contact.

“Why?”

“If they're in trouble, it might distract them. If anything, we should wait for them to call us first.” Or text, but same difference.

She glanced back at her phone. Kaminari was still texting her.

>Okay FIRST off IT'S TOO DANGEROUS

>Second they're in KANAZAWA

>You're in NAGANO

>That's like 2 hours away even by shinkansen. You won't make in time.

>I wanna go too man but there's nothing we can do

She sighed.

There was a distinct irony in Kaminari being the voice of reason here. If she'd been told earlier that this conversation would happen, Jirou would've figured their positions would be reversed.

Her stomach turned as she racked her brain for some kind of solution. It'd be one thing if the fight was right next door, but it was too far away to reach in a reasonable amount of time unless Hagakure had a teleportation quirk lying around that she conveniently forgot to mention. Time was everything. Her classmates needed to get out of there as soon as possible. But by the time she and Hagakure would get there, the incident would long be over.

There wasn't anything she could do, was there.

A large explosion on-screen caught her attention. She hadn't been paying attention to the TV at all throughout this conversation. All she knew was that the entire area was now just one big dust cloud.

Jirou turned to Hakagure.

“I didn't catch that. What just happened?”

“The villain guy just punched up a dust cloud, I think...? I'm not sure.”

The dust cleared as fast as it appeared.

But the man that stood in its place looked nothing like All Might. Hunched over. Thin as a rail. Frazzled hair. Sunken face and eyes. Looked like he was on death's doorstep. Jirou might've thought it was someone else entirely had he not been wearing his hero costume.

Hagakure gasped.

“What did that villain just do?!” She must've thought that it was the villain's quirk that did it.

Jirou shrugged, but didn't take her eyes off the screen.

“...I don't know.”

That was a lie, but she wasn't going to correct Hagakure. It had to be that “other form” she heard about while scouting the school. It sent a chill up her just looking at it. His “time limit” was up, wasn't it.

A pit of dread formed in her stomach. Could he even fight like that?

All Might and the villain were talking, but Jirou couldn't hear it. The camera on the helicopter couldn't pick up the conversation from that distance, but its crew didn't dare get any closer. This was a fight between the strongest hero and a villain on par with him. They obviously didn't want to risk getting caught in the crossfire.

All Might fell to his knees. She didn't know why. She couldn't see his expression from that far, but he gave off an aura of despair.

The villain got closer. He was wearing some kind of broken mask. His skin looked like chewed bubblegum. He had no facial features. He didn't even have eyes. Jirou wondered what kind of quirk he had that would let him do this much damage when he couldn't even see.

The villain was probably saying something.

She knew that because All Might responded.

Apparently there was a little girl in the rubble behind him.

Was she the one he took the brunt of the villain's attack for? The blast left a wedge shape in the ground, preventing further destruction of the buildings behind him.

All Might looked back at her.

She said something.

All Might stood.

It was like he fully regained his resolve. Like there wasn't anything wrong with him.

Power returned to his arm.

All Might looked like he could pull through and win.

Even if he couldn't hear her, Jirou still wanted to cheer him on. Her hands clenched into fists and she held them close to her chest. Her heart was beating with excitement.

Hagakure was doing the same, mumbling “C'mon! C'mon! C'mon!” under her breath all the while.

A sense of hope rippled through them.

Even though they could only watch as the fight played out.

Even though they could only hope that their friends were alright.

Jirou's phone buzzed one more time.

She had to force her focus away from the TV to check it.

>Jirou? You still there?

She paused for a moment before replying.

Yeah. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.<

It was about a half hour later that Iida posted in the class-wide group chat.

>Good news, everyone: The mission was a success. We all made it out and no one sustained any injuries

Jirou and Hagakure sighed with relief.

The replies from her classmates poured in almost immediately: Asking how Bakugou was, asking where they were, asking if they were REALLY okay, asking why Iida was the one to send that text. But the number of questions were drowned out by cries of relief. Jirou was definitely not the only one who thought Midoriya and the others had gotten stuck in one of those collapsed buildings. Or worse. Some of them were worried about All Might too, but the fight made it look like he would be just fine (if skinny). They just figured it was villain shenanigans that made him look like that and that he'd be back to normal in no time.

Even the less talkative members of Class A got in on it. Asui asked rapid fire questions on their status (especially Bakugou's, since villains weren't exactly known for their hospitality). Shouji apologized profusely for not doing more to prevent this from happening in the first place. Kouda wrote out enough text it would probably fill five whole pages in a word document.

Kirishima filled them in on what happened on their end. They got 'super cool' disguises at a store (Mineta got a long-winded explanation about supporting the economy when he asked why Yaoyorozu didn't just make them). Some drunk weirdos hit on Yaoyorozu for looking like a hostess. They snuck through a sketchy-looking back alley. The tracker Yaoyorozu made led them to some kind of Noumu factory, though they weren't able to get in and get a closer look before a bunch of heroes stormed in.

And then a few minutes later, a villain in a black mask trounced said heroes; said villain was the one everyone say fighting All Might. More villains (some of them they recognized from the attack at the training camp) came out of some kind of black goop together with Bakugou. Apparently there was another facility they didn't know about and that's where they were keeping him. Then All Might arrived on the scene before they could do anything else.

To get to Bakugou, they (Midoriya's group) busted down the wall using Kirishima as a battering ram. Todoroki made an ice ramp. Iida used his reciproburst to sent them flying. Bakugou flew up using his explosions and grabbed on so they could make a grand getaway. They did it so fast the villains couldn't do anything about it – well, they tried to send one of their own to grab them, but Mt. Lady and Grand Torino put a stop to it easy (Jirou had never heard of the latter before now; he was apparently an obscure hero). They got away with it and didn't have to fight even once (well- besides Bakugou, but he didn't sustain any injuries).

No one thought to scold them about the plan, or even point out how they could've gotten themselves killed. Instead it was all about how awesome that sounded, and how they should totally try replicating it at one of their next rescue exercises in class. The chat was filled to the brim with positivity.

Right now the group was taking a train to Yaoyorozu's place – hopefully there wasn't going to be anymore excitement for the rest of the night. Thankfully it wasn't late-enough for all the trains to stop running. The plan was for them all to stay at her house for the night. It was plenty large (with more than enough guest rooms), and she told her parents she offered to board some some of her friends who had nowhere to stay for the night, leaving them none-the-wiser to what actually happened.

Some of the others suggested that Bakugou get escorted home before they go their separate way tomorrow. Bakugou immediately swiped Midoriya's phone and told them to fuck off. Asui and Kaminari replied with a “there it is” almost in sync. The following banter flowed so naturally that they might as well have not been separated by screens. The mood mellowed out and everyone asked each other how they were doing. Even Jirou and Hagakure got a few comments about how they should be asleep.

But after the initial rush of energy they slowly trickled out. Some of them were happy that they made it out of the city and called it a day. Others wanted to be make sure they all got to Yaoyorozu's safely. The former group she wasn't sure about: Aoyama, for example, was one of the first to 'leave', but he kept on replying for a long time after as if he'd never said it.

Everyone wanted to start making plans right away. Nothing huge, but they all definitely wanted to get together and hang out sometime within the next few days. There were still time left in summer vacation, and it'd be a shame to waste it now that they didn't have to do any schoolwork (a bit of a silver lining in all this).

When it was all said and done, Jirou went back to laying flat on her bed. She closed her eyes. She pushed herself to sleep. Any more worrying to be done could wait until tomorrow. The little leftover bits nagging at her could shove it. There was no point in stressing herself out when she needed to rest.

Everything was okay, and that's how it should be.

"Hey Jirou! Hey Hagakure!"

Kaminari came in to visit the next day, a beaming grin plastered on his face. A plastic grocery bag with what looked like bananas inside hung off his arm. She heard him as he came into the hospital. It was kinda weird hearing him by himself: Not because she expected the whole class to come and (try to) visit her again; more the fact that Kaminari was a social butterfly and it was kinda weird hearing him not with anyone else of his own volition.

"Hey, Kaminari." She sat up and stretched her arms. "It's just me. Hagakure's parents came earlier." No one had made the bed, so it would stand to reason that Hagakure might still be there. Especially with her affinity for... not wearing clothes. Though he would've known that had he not skipped signing in at the reception desk.

Jirou's mom was going to come at 13:00. That was still a couple hours away. She appreciated having company in the mean time.

"Well then, I guess you get extra." He pulled out two hands of bananas, one after the other, and set them on the tray next to her. Then he pulled over a chair and plopped down without a care in the world. Seeing someone be that casual in a hospital setting was welcome, to say the least.

"Sooooo," he leaned forward, "how're you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah. Just a little tired. But I'm out in another couple hours anyway, so it's fine." For whatever reason her body thought that was just the right time to yawn, tacking on a bit of emphasis. Kaminari caught it and did the same thing a few seconds later. While talking.

"Oh, so you get to leave today? Nice!"

"I know, right? I can't wait to get home. It's so boring here." She motioned at the room as a whole: just had a TV with like 3 channels, some old magazines from like 20 years ago, and a swarth of sounds she wasn't going to touch with a 29-and-a-half foot pole. Hagakure wasn't even around to play shiritori with anymore. Well, there was her phone among all that stuff, but whoever brought her phone forgot to bring the charger with it (it died right after breakfast).

They carried on the conversation in a similar tone for another 20 minutes or so. Kaminari caught her up on what happened at the training camp (as much as he could – he was in the lodge for the duration of the incident). The only info Jirou could provide was the condition of the class B kids: They were still fine, though a few were in the same position as her and just waiting for their parents. It was kinda weird how Kaminari was the one who knew everything and was telling Jirou for once, instead of the other way around.

But throughout it, it was obvious there was something else he wanted to talk about. They were having fun, but this was still going through the motions of polite conversation lest he be rude and imply the only reason he wanted to talk to her was to ask those questions. Preferably, he wouldn't at all; but you can't have everything.

He lowered his head slightly and looked to the right. Yep there it was. His voice was laced with a twinge of nervousness when he spoke again.

"So about last night..."

He rubbed his neck.

"So like..."

He looked back up. His eyes met hers.

"What was that?"

"...What're you talking about?" She had an idea, but there were multiple avenues the conversation could take. Or at least, that's what she liked to think. She had a general idea of what Kaminari would say next, and it probably had nothing to do with the villain.

"You know... That." He shook his hands once for emphasis. "How he looked there at the end. It's like he was a scarecrow or something. Why didn't you tell us he was that bad off?"

She sighed. Of course. Kaminari wasn't stupid; he definitely connected last night to what happened before – when everyone thought All Might was really sick and got him a card. He was the most stubborn one in class when it came to trying to get her to spill more of what she'd overheard from various school faculty.

"I didn't tell you guys because I didn't know."

It was a half-truth. She knew about his "other form", but she had no idea what it looked like before now. And what was she even supposed to say? 'Hey guys All Might actually looks nothing like that no pix or anything just take my word for it'? No, that would be stupid.

But she did know he was bad off. Really bad off. But all she had confirmed was that All Might was a) getting weaker, b) stuck with an injury that would never fully heal, and c) dying. Pretty much everything else was just supposition on her part, even if it did make sense (to the point she factored them into her theories – if anything, what happened last night only added fuel to that fire).

"Bullshit you didn't know!" It wasn't like Kaminari to have that added bite in his tone (though he luckily didn't raise his voice too much since they were in a hospital), but it was obvious he knew she knew more than she let on.

But like yesterday, there wasn't anything either of them could do. If she straight-up told him All Might was dying, what would it accomplish besides stressing him out? And she didn't want to think about what would happen if it got out to everyone else in her class. Most of them thought it was 100% the villain that made him look like that. She didn't want to lie to their faces if it came to it, but it would be better than knowing it while also knowing they couldn't do anything about it.

"Kaminari, I can only hear things with my quirk. Not see them. I can't tell what someone looks like just by the way they walk." She kept her voice firm. It wasn't right to yell in a hospital. But it was frustrating getting into an argument where she couldn't even use all the information at her disposal.

"And no one said anything about it?"

"Listen, by the time I started actually focusing him over that dumb gossip I hear everywhere else, they weren't even talking about how he looked." Well, in a way that would indicate that what she saw on TV was what he really looked like. Most comments on his personal appearance were just on how he looked like hell.

"...So what were they talking about?"

"..." She never told him about that conversation she overheard between Recovery Girl and All Might. She wasn't about to now.

"Like, he's the Symbol of Peace. What happened to him?" Kaminari had something there. She never heard the full story herself.

"...No one I listened in on knows either." If they did, those conversations were likely so few and far in between that she'd have a hard time finding them even if she looked specifically for them.

"But they know something's wrong."

"...They do." She should've chosen her words more carefully before. She practically gave him the answer to that one.

"...That All Might-sensei we saw yesterday was his true form, wasn't it."

Wait.

'True form.'

Jirou's eyes narrowed.

"Who told you about that?"

"...You just did."

Shit.

Kaminari just played her like a god damn fiddle.

But his expression was unreadable.

"Jirou, what do you know about it?"

Jirou brought her knees to her chest. She wanted out.

"Let's talk about something else."

Kaminari's hands clenched into fists by his knees.

"Seriously, what's going on here?"

Jirou shook her head.

"I'm not continuing this conversation."

Kaminari grabbed her shoulder.

"Just tell me!"

Jirou grabbed his wrist and yanked it right off.

"Would you stop it?!"

She didn't expect to be that loud. Her eyes stung. Her head hurt. She hated it.

Kaminari recoiled and his features softened. Like he got hurt too.

"What's so bad that you need to hide it from us...?"

She snapped.

"If there's something I have to hide, I wouldn't just spill it now would I?"

She didn't mean to snarl like that. Kaminari was taken aback. A silence hung in the air between them. Jirou didn't know what to say. She shouldn't have snapped like that, but he wasn't letting it go – which wasn't an excuse to be an asshole for no reason.

Kaminari stood up before she could say anything else.

And in a split second, he slapped a grin on his face and forced a change in the mood.

"Well, you're gonna need to get ready to leave right? I probably shouldn't be keeping you." He covered his anger with a mask of pep. He acted like this was the most natural way for the conversation to turn, like a third party wouldn't be concerned if they were listening in on the two of them. "I'll just leave you to it then!"

"Alright. See ya later, Kaminari!" She hid her frustration in turn with an uncharacteristic smile, and gave him a small wave.

"See ya, Jirou!" Kaminari waved back and shut the door a little too hard as he left the room. He hummed a little tune as he walked down the hall. He probably figured she was listening to him as he did it, and was trying to sound like it didn't bother him at all. But it just made his hidden agitation all the more obvious.

She let herself fall back on the bed springs the second he left the hospital. She let out a sigh of frustration and grabbed her bangs.

She'd have to apologize to Kaminari later. First she snapped at him when they were walking home not too long ago. Now she snapped at him for figuring out too much. He was getting the brunt of her wrath without even knowing the full story (though the fact that he was trying to know it in the first place was why she snapped in the first place). Not communicating effectively was one of those things that destroyed friendships.

She grabbed one of those bananas off the tray, peeled it, and took a big bite out of it. What Jirou thought of Kaminari wasn't going to change just because of something like this: He was just getting emotional like a lot of people in his shoes would. But it was frustrating that he was worried about All Might (he never said it out loud, but anyone with half a brain could figure it out). And that he couldn't see that what was going on was something out of his league. Hell, it was something out of Jirou's league. It's why she was doing all these observations passively; she had no idea what she could do that wouldn't invariably screw everything to high heaven.

She'd racked her brain for ideas after she had that realization about All Might's secret more times than she could count. There weren't any options she could think of where everyone would win, or where she could even prevent All Might from dying in the first place. She'd keep trying, but in this end she was still a third party in all this. And she was a kid. And she didn't even have all the information.

She sighed and massaged her brow.

If only life were as simple as comic books made it out to be.

A/N: Personally, I think Jirou and Hagakure would have misgivings about the plan to save Kacchan; but they'd go with the gang anyway because they'd make a regular rescue mission 10x easier.

The last part of this fic was actually supposed to be the what the fic was mainly about, but it somehow turned into an alternate POV of this arc instead. Part of it has to do with the fact that I also have a feeling those distressed expressions Mineta and co. were wearing on that one page had more to do with the fact that Deku and the others could have very well been in one of those destroyed buildings than All Might just getting beaten up.

Also meet another eensy headcanon: Jirou thinks in military time.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha fanfics #fanfic #Jirou #Kaminari #Hagakure

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