Title: With Flying Colors
Series: Fairy Heart
Category: Anime, Crossover, Action-Adventure
Ratings: PG-13
Pairings: None, Gen, Midoriyas & Shinsou, Midoriyas & All Might (plural Midoriyas)
Summary: Long ago the world was magical. Ages passed and the magic faded, returned and faded again, following the cycle of the stars. At the dawn of a new age of magic, Midoriya Izuku is born with a golden key in his hand and the power of a Celestial Spirit Wizard. He sets out to pass each test life throws at him, with old friends at his back and new ones on the horizon.
Words: 25,700
Notes: This is the only “finished” fic on my EAD, it’s my rough trade from March of 2022. I haven’t edited it and might ultimately change a lot of details/rewrite it, so it constitutes a lovely EAD piece. Crossover with the “Fairy Tail” anime, Midoriya Izuku is a wizard, I had him and Shinsou Skip a Grade, so they’re in the missing class “2A”
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, OCs
Prologue:
There was something building in his chest when he was a child. Years later it’s still difficult to describe, but in youth, complicated things seem even harder; nebulous concepts, impossible to grasp.
Kids don’t understand why something’s wrong, or how. Just that it is.
Six-year-old Izuku had known something was wrong for a while, though like all children he didn’t notice the intricacies of weeks and months.
Time was also nebulous, for a child.
He was six years old, but he couldn’t remember being a baby or a toddler. To Izuku, there was only ever the “present”, every new day interesting and full of new things, and he wasn’t really aware of time passing.
What is a year to a child? It might as well have been a lifetime.
Looking back, he can say that the feeling had been growing under his skin for months before it dropped all subtlety.
Kacchan pushed him down.
Izuku could only stare up at him, surprised and hurt– though even then he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. It had happened a few times before. It was becoming a pattern.
Still, it wasn’t something he had learned to expect, not yet. Though he had begun to think ‘this again’ with a fledgeling sense of resignation, it still caught him off guard.
Also unexpected: in that one moment, everything started to come together. The undefined sense of wrongness, that had been filling his chest when his best friend was around lately, grew stronger, more noticeable. He noticed it and started worrying it in his mouth like a loose tooth, which Izuku was newly familiar with.
It was the first time Izuku noticed just how much had changed over the last year. Offhand comments from Kacchan turned into dismissals, to loud complaining, to insults. Friendly nudges had turned into shoulder-checks, into shoves.
And now, laughing, Kacchan had pushed him into the dirt with the beginnings of a sneer, confident that Izuku would let him.
“You can’t be a hero!” Kacchan said, with all the self-assuredness of a child. Things were simple for Kacchan. Black and white. You could only be a hero if your quirk was strong enough.
It was something they had been told all their lives.
“Your quirk is barely there! It doesn’t even do anything. Forget being a hero, you’re basically quirkless!”
Your quirk is useless. You might as well be quirkless.
Harsh hands impacted his chest, sparking off with little pops of power that would one day be true explosions. Izuku fell, tripping backward more out of shock than force, and his shoulders hit the ground.
Almost as an afterthought, so did his head, thunking and bouncing. It hurt a little, but for a six-year-old, any hurt was significant.
And the quiet voice in the back of Izuku’s mind worried, for the first time: ‘What if he had pushed me harder? What if he pushes me harder next time? What if I’m hurt?’
Those worries should have taken up all his focus, but amidst the dawning realizations under his skin, something else clicked into place directly on their heels, as Kacchan’s words really reached him.
That one shove was life-changing, because: as soon as Kacchan pushed Izuku down– as soon as the harsh words registered– the thing that was wrong about Kacchan, wrong with the whole situation, stopped percolating and crystalized with sudden clarity.
It was, abruptly, so obvious that he couldn’t believe he ever missed it.
For a moment the silence echoed, like the world had stilled. Like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for him to act on this new knowledge.
“What,” Said Izuku, unexpectedly into the quiet, wiping his chin and stumbling slowly to his feet, “is wrong with being quirkless?”
A heartbeat passed, deafening.
The crowd of Kacchan’s friends jeered, a circle around the two of them. They could have been on Mars. Kacchan looked at him, so sure– bright orange eyes, narrowed. No doubt in his mind that he could be wrong.
When had Kacchan started looking at him like he didn’t matter?
Izuku’s hand was shaking.
“You can’t be a hero without a quirk, Deku. And if your quirk is worthless, so are you!” His face warped into an ugly, mocking grimace.
Both of their fists were clenched.
This concept felt too big for his tongue.
He tried anyway.
“There’s nothing wrong with being quirkless!” Izuku shouted. He took a step forward. “I was born with my quirk, but even if I wasn’t– even if I wasn’t, that’s fine. Being quirkless isn’t a bad thing! Having… having a quirk isn’t important!”
Kacchan sneered.
“Is that what you think, huh? Well, guess what, Deku? I’ve got a strong quirk and that means I’M gonna be a hero like All Might!”
That was wrong, too. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Why couldn’t he figure out why?
“And you? You’re not gonna be a hero at all!” Kacchan pushed him again.
This time, he didn’t fall. He braced his feet and stood his ground.
“All Might would never push someone down!” Izuku insisted, the words bursting out from some deep part of him. “All Might doesn’t care what quirk someone has– he saves people with a smile! Everybody! You don’t smile anymore, Kacchan, and if you stay mean, then you can’t save anyone!”
Real fury drifted across Kacchan’s face, masking a child’s hurt.
“That’s not true!” He shouted, hands popping and crackling. “I’m gonna be even better than All Might! My quirk is amazing, and I’ll beat every villain!”
He said it like a threat and Izuku eyed his hands, then raised his chin high.
“I’m not afraid of you, Kacchan. You’re not gonna be a hero, because heroes don’t hurt people. They aren’t mean! Villains have cool quirks too, but they use them to hurt people! Why do you want to be a hero if all you do is say mean things and push me down!?”
Tears of frustration built in his eyes.
“Hey, you listen here!” Kacchan grabbed him by the collar, stretching out the fabric. No–even worse. Little burns singed here and there. “I’m gonna be the best hero! No one at our whole school has a better quirk than me, and definitely not you!”
He shook Izuku again, but Izuku didn’t let the threat of violence deter him, latched onto this idea– this certainty– with everything he had.
“How are you gonna know?” He asked, voice small and tremulous but piercing. Then, louder:
“How are you gonna know what quirk someone has when you’re saving them? Are you gonna leave someone to get squished in a building because they’re quirkless? Because they’re worthless, because they have a weaker quirk?”
Kacchan dropped him with limp fingers, too stunned to hold on but also too stunned to move away. Izuku wasn’t done. For the first time he could remember, he got in Kacchan’s face, too.
“Do you know what makes a hero? It doesn’t have anything to do with quirks, Kacchan. A quirk is cool, but it’s not important. I could be a hero without a quirk! You could be a hero without a quirk. All you need to be a hero is to help people! And– and– you don’t need to be a hero to help people.“
Kachan reared back like he’d been hit, himself, and slipped, falling backward. He caught himself on his palms at the last second, half crouched on the ground, still staring at Izuku with wild eyes.
Izuku was panting, huffing, and Kacchan looked like he wanted to punch Izuku, but also like he wanted to run away. Like he wanted to hit Izuku over and over again to make the words less true– or at least less real.
When Izuku’s voice sounded again, it was cracked like he’d spent all day crying:
“You don’t need to be a hero to help people.” He repeated. It felt too big for him, too big for his hands and his tight throat.
“You just need to hold out a hand when someone needs help.”
Izuku’s lungs burned. His eyes smarted. He very deliberately stretched out a hand.
Kacchan looked at it like a poisonous snake.
Izuku thought about that moment often, about the pivotal fight of his young childhood. He’d offered Kacchan help before– when they were four, and still waiting for Izuku’s quirk to do something. They’ve been in these exact positions before, on a bridge and a riverbank.
He knew, somehow, if Kacchan would just take his hand, everything would be alright.
That day, Izuku didn’t get to find out if it would finally happen.
Instead, almost as soon as he finished talking… his hand started glowing.
And the golden key, the one he was born holding, shone like a star from his pocket, chiming with magical bells.
Chapter 1
Izuku was not having the best of days. He woke up early, but training lasted longer than he’d planned, the roads were congested enough that the walk-cycles were delayed, and to top it all off as he was–finally– walking through the testing office with his paperwork in hand, he slammed right into another student.
Izuku could do nothing but watch in horror as his bag fell– thrown over one shoulder as it was in his hurry, and precarious enough to be jarred by the impact– and both of their paperwork hit the floor a single blink microseconds before his extra-large sports bottle, filled to the brim with water and protein powder, fell out and promptly burst open, soaking every single inch of the forms.
“I’m so sorry!” He started, horrified, his arm still reaching out as though he could have stopped any of it. The bag’s strap had slipped right through his fingers.
The purple-haired student stared blankly at his empty hand, then the drenched paperwork, ink already running onto the tiles. Izuku looked around for something to clean it up and spotted the receptionist hurrying over with a towel.
He took it from her with a constant flow of apologies, which she waved off just as loquaciously, hands flying as she spoke, and by the time it was clean there was obviously no salvaging the papers.
Miracle of miracles, however, the bustling and trash can juggling receptionist, with an eye on the clock, was already preparing new forms fresh off the printer.
“If you really hurry, and turn these in within the next five minutes, I can get it into the system in time for you to be registered for the exam.” She said, then grimaced. “But you’re cutting it quite close as it is. If it takes too long, you’ll just have to come back Friday, I’m sorry.”
Something like fear flickered across the other teen’s face and Izuku felt an echoing sense of anxiety. It wouldn’t be the literal end of the world, but his thoughts were already ratcheting up into a panic. Despite looking like he wanted to argue, the other teen took a deep breath and didn’t even glare at Izuku because there was no time.
They both put pen to paper and recopied their information at speed.
Izuku expected to finish first, being that he has the most practice out of anyone he knows with hand-writing information, but desperation seemed to have driven the other student to his level– or, somehow, he had just as much experience as Izuku.
Either way, he didn’t get the chance to ask, because both of them rushed to hand in the forms and waited anxiously as the second-hand ticked by on the large wall-mounted clock. Technically, they should already be checked-in and ready to enter the testing room by then.
The receptionist must have a speed typing quirk, something that would usually fascinate Izuku if he weren’t so high-strung. Finally, she smiled up at them, the special printer whirred, and after a small eternity they were handed badges and waved through to the interior of the building.
He was so relieved to be able to take the test on time– and not be forced to ask his mom for more train money to travel to this side of the city– that he didn’t once notice anything strange on the hastily-filled applications, nor the minor details on the click-through window that announced just what test he was taking.
Izuku felt appropriately challenged by the material, but that was to be expected; he was, after all, taking the second year exit exams, six whole months early.
Middle school, or Junior High, had three years: first, second, and third. Each year has an “end of year” exam to proceed, but the third year exam was special– passing it was how people got out of middle school and cleared on to high school.
If they could then pass the entrance exams for their selected school, at least.
His mother had agreed to let him try to place out of second year despite only being halfway through with it, for one purpose only: so that they had an extra six months to search for (and complete the necessary paperwork for transferring into) a different middle school for Izuku’s third year.
Izuku wanted to go to a new Junior High School, one where nobody made fun of him for having ‘imaginary friends’, so that he could spend his final year in peace– focusing, of course, on preparing for the infamous high school entrance exams.
And not just any high school entrance exams: U.A.’s.
The test material quickly sucked in all his focus. It was harder than he expected it to be; but Izuku supposed that made sense. For anyone who wanted to “test out” and essentially skip a grade, it was natural they be given the more difficult version of the exams, to ensure that they properly understood the material, and weren’t just trying to get out of attending classes.
Hardly anyone ever tested out of a grade and especially not in the middle of Junior High. It was usually something people did in their last year of Junior High, third year, in order to have more time to study for the High School entrance exams– the dreaded shiken jigoku, 試験地獄 “hell exams”.
Izuku had no idea if he was going to try that, of course; it was so far away, and it was hard enough just taking the second year end of course exams six months early! He shuddered to think of those “hell exams.” Luckily, he had his third year– hopefully at a Junior High School that wasn’t Aldera– between him and that cruel future.
When he left the testing room, several hours later, he was told quite kindly by the test proctor to see the receptionist for his scores. Izuku broke into a light sweat. They couldn’t just tell him now!? He was so nervous he bowed his compliance instead of nodding, and hurried down the hall in embarrassment at having done so.
Naturally, he ran into the other student again, literally knocking into him once more. The building was nearly empty; it shouldn’t have been possible. Izuku was beginning to think he was cursed– or at least hit with a bad-luck quirk, or something!
“I’m sorry!” Izuku blurted, mortified, but at least neither of them were carrying anything this time. His bag was secure, the water bottle fastened so tightly he’d probably need pliers to get the lid off later.
“Really!?” The other kid threw his hands up, after he got over his shock.
“I’m not usually like this, I swear.” Izuku said miserably. “Today is the worst. Oh, gosh, I hope I passed.”
“You know what?” The teen took a deep breath. “It really is that kind of day. Just. Watch where you’re going, okay?”
He looked off to the side awkwardly and Izuku laughed out a nervous reassurance.
Then, of course, they had to walk side-by-side to the receptionist area, which was just as awkward as it sounded. Testing during this time of year was so uncommon that they were the only two in the facility, particularly because they’d just barely squeezed into the last testing slot of the day.
“I’m Midoriya.” He found himself saying, to break the fever pitch of deafening, uncomfortable silence.
The purple-haired teen cut disbelieving eyes over to him. Why was the hallway so long?
“Shinsou.” The teen huffed. He almost looked like he had smiled for a second, there.
He would have asked how Shinsou thought he did on the exams, if only to quell some of his own post-test-pre-results worry, but the hallway mercifully and abruptly ended in a left turn.
They had a small dance of “no, you go first” that their ethics teachers from nursery school would be proud of.
Finally, Izuku stepped forward first, and cleared his throat. He turned in his badge and the receptionist pulled up his information. She turned to him with a wide smile.
“Congratulations, Mr. Midoriya! You passed your third year exit exams!” She winked, oblivious to the words pressing down on Izuku’s soul like the weight of a planet. “Let me be the first to wish you luck in studying for your ‘Hell Exams’, especially since you put down U.A. as your choice of High School!”
Izuku backed away from the desk window without even hearing his scores. He stumbled until his calves hit a chair in the waiting area and half-fell into it, head falling into his hands. Breathing felt hard with an elephant on his chest.
Wait, was he having a heart attack?
Laughter, the trail end of words–
“–you’re relieved, haha.”
He looked up through wavering vision and had to try twice before his throat made noise.
“Third year exit exams?” He managed, hoarsely. “It was… was supposed to be second year exit exams.”
The receptionist blinked from several yards away.
Shinsou looked on in apparent confusion, small hints of pity starting to creep in on the edges.
“Are you certain? You filled out paperwork asking for the third year exit exams.”
“I’m fourteen.” Izuku said, head swimming. “I turn fifteen this July.”
“Oh, my. Well, you have an early birthday, so you’ll just be a little younger than your peers. Congratulations!”
“My mom’s going to kill me.” Izuku blinked, head still spinning. “Oh, god, my mom’s going to die and then she’s going to kill me.”
“Well.” Shinsou started and then stopped. “My moms are already in the ground, but for what it’s worth, I feel you. My foster parents would kill me dead if I accidentally tested out of middle school. I also turn fifteen in July.”
“Not the fifteenth?” He asked, going for a little humor and hoping the universe wouldn’t prove him wrong. That would be one coincidence too far, but the day was already so deeply cursed.
“No, July first, actually.” Shinsou smiled a little, awkward sympathy making it lopsided.
“Er, well. This is awkward.” The receptionist cleared her throat, followed with a halting laugh. “That is to say, you also passed your exit exams, Shinsou-kun.”
“You mean.” Shinsou swallowed, blanching white. “You mean Second Year exit exams, right? Right?”
Hope strangled in his throat, desperate that she would confirm his words.
“I’m afraid not. I’m terribly sorry about the mix up, it seems in the rush you both got the standard forms for people trying to test out– for Third Years, that is– and not the special-made applications I’d originally prepared for you both. It’s just so rare that Second Years take the exam…”
She continued on a bit, nervously, apologizing for the confusion, and finally holding out their score print-outs like peace offerings before shutting the window between them.
Shinsou didn’t hear a word. Izuku’s own anxiety was fading in the face of the acute panic coming over the other teen. Where he’d been shocked, Shinsou seemed to be rapidly approaching true hyperventilation.
The purple-haired teen flinched hard at Izuku’s initial touch, but afterwards allowed himself to be guided outside into the fresh air and to the bench just left of the testing center. The sun was setting, and the city wind seemed to do little to help. Izuku walked him through paired breathing for several long, tense minutes, soft murmurs of “breathe with me, come on, match me, in– out — in.” as sparse foot traffic moved around them.
“I was supposed to have another year to earn money for U.A.’s tuition. I know there’s scholarships but you have to get in first and… and…”
Izuku hesitated, hands over his arm and not sure if it was okay to touch. Shinsou gasped out pained despair as he pressed his palms into his eyes.
“The paperwork. This is going to be a nightmare. My current foster family isn’t close enough to U.A., but we had a whole year to try to find somewhere closer, because they only signed on to host me throughout Junior High, and now– oh god, I’m going to have to go back to the Children’s Home, there’s not one near U.A. and even if there was, it’s still going to take months of paperwork and finding somewhere open, and by then the exam window will have closed, and that’s not even taking into consideration my fucking quirk.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, loud and unhinged and a breath away from sobbing.
“It took so long to find somewhere willing to take me, it took– I can’t believe it was all– that it was all for nothing.”
Guilt stabbed through Izuku. The first sparks of a plan had already been forming in his mind, but at the real tears sliding down Shinsou’s face they caught hard and roared into a proper fire.
There was no graceful way to bow out, but Shinsou was so beyond noticing anything right now, lost in the depths of his unseeing horror, that he didn’t look up as Izuku quietly excused himself to make a call, already shuddering through hopeless sobs like he was already alone.
“Mom?” She answered on the first ring, as she always did, and sucked in a harsh breath at the tone of that one word. “Mom, I– I think I really messed up.”
His voice was tight and hurt trying to escape his throat.
“I need your help.” He had always been a crybaby, and tears dripped past his nose now, audible as he spoke.
“What do you need?” Her hushed, hard lawyer-voice sounded, preternaturally calm. It was solid, strong– unconquerable. Izuku’s mom would move the world for him. Izuku took a steady breath and felt some of that unshakeable confidence steal into him.
“Are you still… are you still a certified foster parent?”
Chapter 2
Izuku ended the phone call and stepped out of the mouth of the little alley, approaching Shinsou. The other teen was still looking blankly at nothing. No, like he was seeing his dreams in shattered pieces.
“My mom’s a foster parent.” Izuku said, apropos of nothing. There was no way to ease into this.
“Well, she’s certified, anyway, because she’s a lawyer and sometimes she has kids stay with her during certain cases, but the point is– hopefully I’m going to U.A., and hopefully you are too, so she said you’re more than welcome to live with us, until or unless you find something better.”
He laid all his cards out on the table, quicker than he’d like, heart beating nervously.
“What?” Shinsou slowly turned to look at him, disbelieving. “I can’t just– I’m a high risk case, you know?”
He spit the words like he’d heard them too many times.
“My quirk is dangerous, so it takes a lot for anyone to even consider fostering me. You wouldn’t even be talking to me, if you knew.”
“Ha, doubt.” Izuku’s mouth ran away before his brain could catch up.
“What’d you say?” Shinsou looked like a coil ready to snap. Izuku sat down next to him.
“I said, ‘I doubt it.’ I wouldn’t let someone’s quirk of all things stop me from talking to them.”
The purple-haired teen snorted hard.
“Oh yeah? You’d be the fucking first.” He looked away sharply.
“Try me.” Izuku invited.
“What?”
“Tell me what your quirk is. Let me prove I’m not that kind of jackass.” Izuku swung his feet on the bench, watching the sun slip even further over the horizon. Soon it would be properly dark.
Shinsou wavered, something dark crossing his facial features.
“Well, what the fuck. It’s not like I’ve got anything left to lose.” He took a deep breath. “Brainwashing. It’s Brainwashing.”
“Oh, really?” Izuku asked, trying not to get ahead of himself on the details. There were so many options, so much potential!. “How’s it work?”
Shinsou eyed him like something dangerous.
“Verbally. I ask a question and if you answer, my quirk takes control of you.” His expression was shuttered, as though this was the final bomb and he was waiting for it– for Izuku– to go off.
“So you can make someone believe whatever you want?”
“What? No, it’s only physical. My quirk puts you in a trance and you do whatever I say.”
“Can you change someone’s opinions while they’re in the trance?” Izuku’s hands itched for a notebook and a pen.
“No, of course not. It’s only temporary. If you get jostled or I release the quirk, you’re no longer under control.”
“With no permanent side effects?”
“None.” Shinsou bit off, looking progressively more unhappy.
“Well that’s stupid. Your quirk counselor is a hack.”
“Huh?” Shinsou, who had been bracing himself for a more vitriolic reaction, blinked.
“Brainwashing changes people’s beliefs, usually over time. It’s coercive persuasion, a form of mind control. Your quirk sounds like temporary hypnosis at best. Like, those old showmen who waved a chain and made you cluck like a chicken for a minute, but you’re totally fine afterward.”
Shinsou stared at him.
“It’s hardly brainwashing. Honestly.” Izuku huffed, irritated. “Mind control is systematic. Conditioning. Indoctrination. A hypnotic trance is more like a guided daydream, honestly. Maybe your quirk is a little more forceful about it but unless you start hurting or manipulating people until they do what you want, I wouldn’t call it brainwashing. You should really put in a complaint with the quirk registration office. Maybe even seek legal counsel for damages.”
“You don’t think my quirk is really Brainwashing? That’s… Okay that’s a new one, I’ve got to admit.”
“Even if it were, I’d still talk to you. You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d rearrange my personality just to be a dick.”
“Of course not!” Shinsou snapped. “You don’t understand. All my life I’ve been told I have a villain’s quirk. Even if it’s not technically Brainwashing, nobody wants a kid around who can take control of you and make you do something evil.”
“Do you want to make people do evil things?” Izuku kept his face passive.
“No!”
“Then you don’t have a villain’s quirk. You have your quirk, and you’re going to U.A. with me. It’s going to be the quirk of a hero.” He looked directly into the other boy’s eyes, refusing to look away as he spoke.
Shinsou’s mouth worked but no sound came out. Eventually he snapped it closed and had to blink furiously.
“That simple?” He asked, voice scratchy.
Izuku nodded.
“That simple. You can be a hero. Anyone can be a hero. All you have to do is help people.”
“And have a strong quirk.” Shinsou pointed out, wryly.
Izuku was already shaking his head. This was a point he’d stumbled into at six years old and never backed down from. This was the hill he’d die on.
“No way! Quirks don’t have anything to do with it. I completely believe that anyone can be a hero, no matter what their quirk is. Even someone quirkless. Even someone with a ‘useless’ quirk.”
Conviction laced every word. Shinsou stared at him.
“You really think so?”
“I’m positive!” Izuku stressed. “I’ve even looked it up, you know. A lot of heroes have really specific quirks and what do you think they do in situations where they can’t use it– walk away? No, a lot of heroes are fighting quirkless half the time, at least. Quirks really aren’t the be-all and end-all of heroics, you know?”
“I guess. It’s not a very popular sentiment, you’ve got to admit.”
Izuku clenched his fist, frowned, and took a deep breath. When he turned back to Shinsou he was smiling as brightly as any of his friends.
“Then I guess I’m going to have to be a super popular hero, so I can spread the message to everybody watching me. What do you think, Shinsou? Do you want to be a hero, with me?”
Izuku held out his hand.
“More than anything.” Shinsou found himself answering, raw and unfiltered. “I’ve never wanted anything else.”
“It’s okay if you don’t like it with us, you know. But at least it’s an option. You can stay or if you find something better, that’s fine, too. We’re not going to change our minds, though. You can always come back.”
Shinsou looked like he didn’t believe him at all, but he did slowly reach out and take Izuku’s hand.
“Okay.” He said, slowly, as though testing the word out. “Okay. I’ll try. It’s better than what I have now, at least. It’s a chance.”
He swallows, nods.
“All I’ve ever needed was a chance.”
“Take a chance on us.” Izuku says, the words carrying all the fervor of a promise. “We won’t let you down.”
Shinsou looked away. He dropped his hand.
“I don’t know about all that, but I do know it’s getting late. My current foster family doesn’t like it when I come back after dark.”
His eyes darkened, likely at the reminder that he’d have to tell them why he was out so late, and what had happened today.
“Can you tell them you’re staying with a friend?” Izuku asked, green eyes dancing as he manically changed plans on the fly. “We can take the train back to my house. Maybe they’ll go easier on you.”
“I can ask them and see.” Shinsou muttered, in the tones of ‘why the hell not.’ He pulled out his phone and sent the message, not hoping for much.
He stared at the reply.
“I’ve never had a friend to stay with before.” Shinsou admitted. “Huh. They said, ‘sure’. Then again, they never really care what I’m doing as long as I’m following all the rules. Can I text them your address?”
“Yeah, go for it.” Izuku rattled off his address, sending his own text to his mom that he was bringing Shinsou home with him. If he had his way, Shinsou would never need to go back.
“I don’t have any money.” Shinsou warned, as they started walking to the station. “I mean, I was going to walk home. It’s only forty minutes away from here.”
“That’s fine, I can get us both tickets.”
“I also don’t have any extra clothes on me, obviously.”
“You can borrow something of mine for now.” He side-eyed Shinsou, taking in his advanced height. “I have some really big sleep shirts that should fit you, and basketball shorts should work, you’re not wider than me. Plus, you know, draw strings.”
“Fair enough, I guess. Do y’all also have extra toothbrushes?” Shinsou rose an eyebrow.
“Yes, actually.” Izuku laughed, sliding his eyes over once more, this time with an amused grin. “You’re not the first person we’ve had stay over, like I said.”
“You’ve talked about your mom a lot. Do you have another parent?”
Izuku kept smiling.
“Yes, actually.” He answered again, visibly taking delight in being as contrary as possible, “My dad has a job abroad, but he and my mother didn’t really marry because of romantic love. They’re on the same page about what they want out of life, and I visit him and his family a few times a year.”
“That’s nice, I guess.” Shinsou eyed the crowd, starting to really pick up around them with end-of-day business traffic.
They made it to the subway station with little fanfare, both choosing to stand.
“Haven’t really taken the train, much.” Shinsou admitted; he definitely wasn’t used to talking so much, but if Midoriya wasn’t going to run away…
Wild. It was wild. He felt surreal, standing here having a conversation with a complete stranger.
“Oh yeah? Me neither, really. I guess I’ll have to when U.A. starts up, though.” He offered Shinsou a grin. “What do you think it’ll be like, learning from real Pro Heroes?”
For a moment Shinsou could only stare.
“You seem pretty confident you’ll get in.” That we’ll get in, he thought, startled by the easy confidence in him, of all people.
“Nah, I’m just hopeful. We can’t give up on our dreams, right?”
Shinsou really hoped he wasn’t an axe murderer.
“Right.” He said, coughing a little. Socializing was exhausting, so he looked at his phone to pass the time; the relief when Midoriya left him to it was unspeakable. It gave him just a smidgen more hope that they could, well, fuck. Coexist. Live together.
Shinsou had moved from home to home for longer than he could remember, so living with strangers wasn’t new, but he thought the naive hope for peaceful coexistence had been burned out of him years ago.
“Hey, this is our stop.” Midoriya nudged him a little, some time later, and Shinsou slipped the phone into his pocket.
There were questions he’d be able to ask another kid from the system (if and only if they didn’t know his quirk yet, whereupon they wouldn’t answer any questions, or might just lie to sabotage him) that he couldn’t ask here.
Is she nice? What are the rules? What should I absolutely not do?
And there were things another kid in the system would tell him without being asked, triggers and landmines to avoid stepping on if he could. He was used to going into these situations blind, though. Sometimes there was nobody to ask.
Sometimes asking questions was more dangerous, for Hitoshi.
Izuku quietly guided Shinsou in the right direction.
“It’s only about a five minute walk.” He confided, pointing in the distance at a high-rise apartment complex.
“Cool.” The five minutes felt like five seconds. By the time they approached, the light was well and truly fading. Izuku was happy the other teen hadn’t had to walk home in the dark.
“Tadaima!” Izuku called, walking through the front door into warmth and safety.
“Okaeri, Izukkun!” His mom called back, without missing a beat. “I’m in the kitchen! Dinner will be ready soon!”
He looked back over his shoulder and saw Shinsou had frozen in the doorway, staring into the apartment with a kind of pole-axed helplessness.
They took off their shoes and Shinsou toed on the smaller of the guest slippers. He looked lost, though, so Izuku smiled as he led the way.
“Welcome back, baby, and hello for the first time, Shinsou-kun!” She bustled over and gave Izuku a loud smack to the cheek, which sent him laughing, and smiled warmly at Shinsou. The other teen looked overwhelmed and comically happy for the distance that remained between them– Izuku bet solid money that if she’d lost her mind and tried to plant one on his frizzy purple hair, he’d have literally run right back out the door.
“Izuku told me what happened and I’m sorry for the mix up, but congratulations on passing your exams! I know it’s usually a “good luck” kind of food, but it’s Izuku’s favorite so we tend to use it more as a celebration. Do you like Katsudon?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tried it,” He admitted, after a minute of parsing the rapid-fire but well-meaning mothering.
Izuku made mock-horrified noises.
“My mom makes the best Katsudon anyway so even if you had, it wouldn’t be like hers!” He declared with good humor, already moving to set the table. And then, seeing how uncomfortable the other looked, decided to give his friend something to do.
“Shinsou, would you mind putting the rice into bowls? Mom’s already set them out.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He awkwardly shuffled over, but did look grateful for the task.
Izuku had just finished grabbing chopsticks and drinks for everyone when a knock sounded on the door. Mother and son looked up at the same time, realization hitting their features, when the door opened.
“Good evening, Midoriyas!” A cheerful voice boomed, and Yagi-san walked comfortably into the kitchen. He settled a small gift bag on the table with a wrapped dessert and swung Inko up into a spin by the waist that had her giggling and blushing, then set her on her feet with a small but heartfelt hug.
“Yagi-san!” Inko protested half-heartedly, eyes dancing with happiness, and Yagi turned around to draw Izuku into a side-hug as well. He caught sight of Shinsou and smiled.
“And who is this strapping young lad?” He questioned, easygoing as always, and Izuku ducked his head into the man’s shoulder, hugging back.
“This is Izukkun’s friend Shinsou-kun.” Inko explained easily. “We’ve invited him to stay the night.”
“We’ve invited him to stay forever.” Izuku protested, pushing away from Yagi to look at his mom.
She laughed at him.
“I was trying to avoid pressuring him, Izukkun.” She chastised gently. “We haven’t even gotten to talk with him, yet.”
“But what if he thinks we’re not serious!?” Izuku demanded, glancing over with worry.
Shinsou held up his hands defensively.
“Uh, I thought you said your dad lived abroad?”
Yagi choked up blood.
“Yagi-san!” Inko and Izuku both reacted at once, nervous hands hovering even as he waved them off, conjuring a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping his mouth with practiced ease. Shinsou had flinched back hard, heart beating wild at the horror movie moment.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I was just surprised.” Yagi-san, who had just literally sprayed out literal blood, hurried to reassure them.
“Yagi-san is a family friend.” Inko explained to Shinsou with a smile while her son fussed over the man, asking him what he’d eaten last, etc.
“Oh.” Shinsou’s face colored very slightly. He awkwardly brought the three bowls of rice to the table.
“He has special dietary needs so don’t worry about fixing him a bowl.” Inko assured him, bustling over to settle everything proportionately. She deftly doled out the correct portion of steaming meat, sauce and cooked egg over every plate and Izuku, looking for and locating a larger sauce pan with easy confidence in their routine, brought everyone out some miso soup on a serving tray.
Izuku made sure Yagi’s portion was correctly sized and shot the man a hawkish glare, to which the very tall blonde just laughed nervously.
“Oh, that’s right. Izuku, I got you a gift!” He said, as if surprised to see it on the table when he sat.
“You don’t have to keep giving me gifts, Yagi-san!” Izuku flushed a heavy red under his freckles but couldn’t help the pleased smile.
“Nonsense, my boy, I keep getting them through work, anyway. It’s no trouble.”
Inside the bag were two different ALL MIGHT shirts, both sized quite large because Izuku liked to sleep in them and wear them around the house.
“Oh, Shinsou, look, it’s the new designs! These aren’t even on the market yet. Which one do you like better?”
“The purple one, I guess.” He sipped his soup and generally seemed to be trying to very aggressively fade into the background.
“Here you go!” Izuku held it out gamely. “There’s one for each of us, so you can have this one.”
Shinsou stared at his outstretched hands blankly.
He blinked. He stared some more.
“Uh. Thank you, I guess.” He said so quietly it was almost a mutter. Izuku had to jiggle his hands a little to get him to actually take the shirt, though, and Shinsou held it strangely.
“Anyway, young Midoriya, are you not having any of your other friends for dinner?” Yagi plowed on, seemingly not noticing the awkwardness.
“I mean, I could? I probably shouldn’t, though. I don’t want to be rude.” Izuku rubbed the back of his head in uncanny mimicry of the man he claimed was not his father.
“Oh, how considerate. I’m sure your new friend appreciates the care.” He smiled winningly at Shinsou, who was too surprised to smile back.
For the rest of dinner, they kept up a surprisingly cheerful conversation. It came out, eventually, that Izuku had passed the wrong set of exams, and both adults ribbed him good-naturedly while also conveying a fair bit of pride.
More surprisingly, they also heaped the same amount of praise onto Shinsou, who visibly did not know how to take that. He blushed and stammered his way through being addressed and the impressed comments.
“You didn’t even notice the material was so difficult?” Yagi wondered.
“I expected it to be hard!” Midoriya waved his hands in front of him frantically. “I studied a lot for it, you know.”
And upon discovering Izuku himself was the cause of the semi-averted disaster, they only sighed.
“You’ve got to be more careful where you’re going, Izukkun!” His mother admonished softly. “I know you get caught up in that head of yours–”
“I’ll be more careful!” The boy squeaked. “I’ll pay more attention.”
They both looked at him with exasperated fondness. By this point of the meal everyone had mostly finished eating. Yagi had brought pastries that he passed out to everyone but himself, and they were even mostly done eating those, as well.
Izuku shoved the last of his into his mouth to keep from having to answer any more questions, cheeks wide like a chipmunk. It made Shinsou huff a quiet laugh under his breath, which immediately died as they turned on the only other available teen in the room to dote over.
“Well, it’s unfortunate that it caused problems for Shinsou-kun, to be sure.” Inko looked at him, then, with concern in her eyes.
Shinsou shrugged awkwardly. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to want to get into all that just yet. Inko did ask him for his foster parents’ phone number, primarily to confirm with them that he’d made it to their home safe, and also so they’d have her number going forward. Shinsou gave it to her easily enough.
He was surprised, however, when the whole party moved into the other room. Inko and Izuku fixed new bowls of something from the freezer while Yagi politely asked Shinsou for help taking the dishes to the sink.
“Don’t be so tense, my boy.” Yagi said quietly to him, as though Shinsou could help it. “The Midoriyas are unlike any people I’ve ever known. They practically ooze sincerity. I’ve never known either one of them to lie about anything.”
“Thanks.” He said shortly, following the man into the living room.
“Oh, hey, Shinsou– is vanilla okay? We’re going to watch a movie and eat ice cream. Yagi-san, yours is sugar-free, don’t worry.”
“Thank you very much.” Yagi said, looking oddly touched, and took his reduced portion with gentle hands.
Shinsou took his as well, surprised to be included even though he shouldn’t be. Most of these people don’t know about his quirk, after all. They were being polite to a guest.
Izuku and Inko insisted that Yagi and Shinsou pick out the movie, which boggled Shinsou because what, they were doing this randomly? They didn’t even have a special movie in mind?
“We’re celebrating.” Inko insisted, waving her hands, and Yagi masterfully convinced them all that it should be Izuku and Shinsou to decide, which really meant Shinsou should decide since Izuku wouldn’t hear otherwise.
He ended up insisting he needed options and then, when presented with them, picked the least offensive. It wasn’t until five minutes into some “classic” he’d never seen that he realized he was watching a family movie with perfect strangers, when he couldn’t remember ever watching an actual movie with adults, and he felt overwhelmed and out of place all over again.
It was a relief when nobody talked much during the movie– well, they did talk casually, but didn’t try to get Shinsou involved in any discussion, at least.
In fact, in the dark and with nobody paying attention to him, he eventually relaxed so much that he dozed off.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Inko said. “I was so worried about him. He seemed so tense.”
Yagi looked over and grimaced.
“It appears the young man has been through a lot.” He agreed, and reached out to ruffle Izuku’s hair.
“We’re very proud of you.” Inko murmured, pinching his cheek from the other side. “But honey, you have got to start watching where you’re going.”
They watched the rest of the movie in comfortable companionship until the credits rolled, Shinsou starting to snore softly in the armchair he’d chosen.
Yagi started to stand up to reach for him, but Izuku said “I got it,” and began to emit a brief, golden glow.
A giant of a figure appeared, snuffling quietly. He bent down to pick up Shinsou with comically gentle care, the tall young man positively dwarfed in his arms.
“Thank you, Taurus.” Izuku smiled and received a subtle thumbs up in answer, along with a quiet moo that did not wake his sleeping charge.
“Let’s have him sleep in the guest room, I think.” Inko smoothed out her dress as she stood. “There should be extra toiletries in the guest bathroom.”
Izuku scurried after his Spirit to show him the way, and Yagi turned to Inko with a small smile.
“You really are good people, you Midoriyas.”
“Don’t say that,” Inko said, softly enough not to carry, but a familiar stubborn light fierce in equally familiar green eyes. “This is the bare minimum someone should be doing for that kid.”
“As you say.”
Chapter 3
It was Hisashi whose quirk let him breathe fire, but Inko was so angry she felt she could fucking well manage it, too.
She kept her voice even and polite through the grace of god, hung up the phone, and walked past the two open doors where her son and his new friend slept mercifully undisturbed. They were sleeping in, tired from the emotional rollercoaster of yesterday, and she had no plans to wake them.
Izuku at least had been stressed for weeks studying for his test, no matter how many breaks she insisted he take, and she imagined Shinsou had been the same.
She glanced once at the computer she would need to fill out the paperwork and walked right past it, leaving the apartment and gently closing the door with the world’s tightest jaw. She walked right down the hall and down a short spattering of stairs and knocked sharply on the first door on the left.
It was early morning and the door was unlocked. She walked in, throwing her phone angrily on the sofa.
“Toshinori, I am this fucking close.” She said, huffing. The man was up, having already gone for his morning run, and wasn’t due at the store today. It was actually one of his and Izuku’s beach cleaning days, though they weren’t very picky about when the work began.
“What happened?” he asked from his plush armchair.
“Shinsou apparently lived with an older couple and you know I don’t like to speak ill of the elderly but– Toshinori. Those people!” She flexed and unflexed her fingers angrily and the phone floated back to her.
“Not the most pleasing of people, I take it?”
“Ugh.” She pulled a face. “Come back to my place so I can bitch about it while I cook breakfast for the boys.”
“Of course.” The man nearly tripped over himself rising to his feet, thick blanket wrapped around his frame like a fluffy pelt.
She smiled at the sight of it. This man.
“What?” He asked, blinking, blonde hair sticking up on his head.
“Nothing.” She laughed a little, helpless. “I’m just glad to know you.”
He smiled back. Easily the best part of the move had been meeting Yagi Toshinori but the soft life they’d settled into going from apartment to apartment was a privilege she would never take for granted. She quietly re-entered the house and the kitchen and he settled down with no degree of hesitation, as familiar in her kitchen as he was in his own if not more so.
Yagi was the perfect conversationalist, listening and encouraging by turn as she spelled out the situation for him as she bustled around the kitchen, using her quirk and her hands in equal measure.
“And another thing!” Inko rattled off as she gave him a bowl of miso soup, before shuffling over and flipping the tamagoyaki. “What kind of bullshit is it to have to change families just to attend a school you want? And they weren’t at all willing to pay the costs, so regardless of where he went to high school…”
She trailed off with a near-growl.
“It’s quite unfortunate.” Toshinori sipped his bowl slowly, frowning. “I wonder how many children want to be heroes and can’t attend the schools for financial reasons, of all things.”
“I’m going to pay for it, obviously. At least in the short term, it’s the only thing I can live with.” She sighed. “I don’t know quite how it’s going to work, but…”
Toshinori blinked into his soup for a moment.
“I think I know of a scholarship that might work. I’ll… No, let me look into it. I’ll forward you the information.”
She smiled at him.
“Thank you, dear. I’m sure every little bit will help.”
Izuku walked in then, likely lured out by the sound of their voices or the smell of food.
He stretched, arms high over his head, brand-new oversized sleep shirt hanging off one shoulder. His bedhead was a thing of marvel.
“Hey, g’d mornin’. Mom, Yagi-san.”
“Don’t talk while you’re yawning, honey.” Inko admonished absently. She flipped some fish onto plates. “Would you mind waking Shinsou?”
“Oh, sure.” He backtracked a few steps lazily and stuck his head into the guest room. “Yo, Shinsou! Breakfast.”
Inko smiled at him, wry and unamused.
“I could have done that, honey.”
“Well.” Izuku scratched his nose. “What did you want me to do, go in there and shake him? We just met, he’d probably think he was kidnapped.”
Inko sighed and waved her spoon at him.
“Come get your breakfast, smartass.”
Izuku grinned.
He was shoveling down food and talking through a mouthful of fish and rice as Shinsou padded in, still in yesterday’s clothes and his hair as bad as Izuku’s.
There was a cautious air about him, like a cat that wasn’t sure of its welcome.
“Don’t be shy, help yourself.” Inko encouraged, without looking directly at him. Like a cat, she figured food and a safe place to sleep would work wonders.
He sat down and began eating.
“So, Izukkun, how long will you be at the beach today?” She asked, instead, and watched Shinsou’s shoulders relax to not be the center of attention. “It’s been a while since you visited the guild.”
“Ah froww–” She tugged on his hair with her quirk. He swallowed and tried again without his mouth full.
“I know!” He laughed. “I’ve been so busy studying, I haven’t seen them in forever. But it’s a beach day and– oh no!”
Panic crossed his entire expression. He moaned.
“If I’m applying to U.A. then I need to start studying for those exams and I was supposed to have another year. I don’t think I can finish up the beach in the time I have left, and that’s without factoring in all the study time!”
“Calm down, my boy.” Toshinori said, smiling. “You also won’t have middle school to contend with so your days are quite free. It’ll balance out, won’t it?”
Izuku buried his face in his arms.
“Nooo, I had a plan.” He complained. “I’m not ready.”
“Few are, when it comes to attending U.A.” Toshinori sounded incredibly amused. “I certainly wasn’t.”
“You attended U.A.?” Izuku’s head whipped back up. Shinsou’s purple eyes shot up as well, rapt.
“Back in the day, yes.” Toshinori rubbed the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly. “You know I was a hero back before my injury, Izuku.”
“I didn’t know you went to U.A.!” The kid shouted, gleeful. “What did–”
“Izukkun!” Inko chided. “Don’t just assault the man with five hundred questions. You already know everything about the school and what you don’t, will certainly have changed from the time Toshinori attended.”
“Ah, that’s true.” Izuku’s shoulders slumped. “Ughhh, I haven’t had a chance to practice my quirk at all. The best I can do is work with gold keys in Fiore, and even that is limited.”
“Quirk use isn’t prohibited at home, my boy.” Toshinori rubbed his chin. “You couldn’t do anything flashy but perhaps work on your stamina, since you won’t be at school?”
Izuku blinked.
“You mean like… Hmm, I see.” He closed his fingers around a golden key that wasn’t there a moment before, as if plucking it out of thin air. “Theoretically as long as I keep up a summoning, even if they’re not doing anything, I’m getting better. It’s just most of training has do to with how much magic power you’re expending…”
“Izuku.” Inko pulled him out of the clouds. “It may not be optimal training, but some is better than none.”
“No, you’re totally right.” He blinked at the key in his hand. “It’s not that I don’t like visiting with my Spirits but they are traditionally used for combat and problem solving. I’ll have to call someone who won’t wreck the apartment on accident.”
Inko’s face went through a series of expressions, cycling through the five stages of grief and ending on muted regret.
“No, I’ve got it. Loke is the most civilized of all the Zodiac Spirits, probably, and arguably one of the most…” He started muttering and didn’t stop. Just as one of the adults were about to interrupt, he stopped, nodded decisively to himself, and switched keys.
A golden glow built up as he held it aloft and spoke with a commanding voice, one that echoed with power. The air around them suddenly felt charged and thin.
“Open, Gate of the Lion! Leo!”
Bells tolled, light flared, and a man appeared in the middle of the living room.
“Yo!” A golden-haired man in a black suit ruffled Izuku’s hair. “It’s not often you summon me, little guy. How’s it hanging?”
Shinsou almost fell off his chair.
“You–! Is that your quirk?” Something crossed his expression, sour.
“Yeah!” Izuku lit up, as he always did talking about quirks. “I can summon friends to help me out.”
Loke shook his head.
“Spoken like a true Fairy Tail Wizard, Zu-chan.”
“No!” Izuku laughed, pushing him away. “Izuku. Izuku.”
“From Lu-chan to Zu-chan, kid! I don’t make the rules.”
“No, Oyaji-sama does and even he doesn’t call me that!”
“What’s that? I’ve got light in my ears, I can’t hear you.”
“Loke.” Izuku huffed out little laughs. “Fine, whatever. How’re things?”
The Spirit held out a hand horizontally, wiggling it to and fro.
“Eh, same-old, same-old.” He took the only free seat and crossed his legs regally. “Aries got a new dress.”
“Oh?” Izuku asked, and Loke told him about it without hesitation.
“That’s nice.” The boy hummed. “She’ll probably like it better than the dress Virgo got me.”
“Lucy only ever wanted crop-tops and you need the clothes to visit us, anyway, so she took the opportunity. It looked good on you!”
“I looked like Wendy when she was a little kid.” Izuku countered wryly.
“You were a little kid.” Loke pointed out. “Besides, we got you something better the next year.”
“Every year one of you gets me a new outfit and every other year it’s a skirt.”
“You look good in skirts.” Loke maintained guilelessly. “Everyone looks good in skirts. Natsu looks good in skirts.”
“Natsu looks good in anything.” Izuku rolled his eyes. “It’s the confidence.”
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well, I know everybody is going to find out anyway, but you know how I was studying to take my exit exams early?”
Loke nodded.
“Yeah, wasn’t that… hang on, the time difference is always– wait, that was supposed to be yesterday for you! Did you pass?”
“Unfortunately.”
At Loke’s look, Izuku elaborated. The Spirit broke out into a wide, proud grin.
“Oh, wow. That’s the whole motto thing, isn’t it? You really went ‘Plus Ultra’!” Izuku’s hand twitched around the Leo key like he was seriously considering closing Loke’s gate.
“So, I’m training my stamina the only way I can by keeping your Gate open!” Izuku finished, forcefully cutting off the Spirit’s laughter.
“Well, you won’t expend much magic power that way.” Loke tapped his fingers on the table. “We’re not in a fight or anything. I mean, we can’t even spar here because of the silly rules.”
Toshinori opened his mouth to comment on that hot take regarding Public Anti Quirk Use laws and closed it again shortly thereafter.
“I’ll keep you with me all day, then, if that’s okay.” Izuku smiled at his Spirit shyly.
“Sure thing, little dude. Who’s your friend?” He looked over at Shinsou.
Shinsou offered up a half-hearted wave.
“Shinsou Hitoshi. Nice to… meet you, I guess.” He trailed off, eyes darting to the side.
“I’m Loke, the Celestial Spirit Leo. Either works fine for me. Izuku, a guild-mate, prefers to call me Loke.”
“It’s what everyone else calls you.” Izuku’s cheeks fanned red.
“Alright.” Shinsou put some salmon in his mouth to avoid saying anything further. Heroes had to expect the unexpected but there was a limit on how much nonsense he was willing to take before he was properly awake.
“Shinsou, dear, I talked to your foster parents this morning and if you agree, I can fill out the paperwork to change custody of you this afternoon. It won’t be officially recognized for a week or two, but you have the choice of staying there until it’s all ironed-out… or you could stay here during the wait, they said they didn’t mind. It’s up to you.”
She paused.
“That said, you could also keep ‘spending the night’ with Izuku to see how you feel about us– both as an option for a foster family in general, and before you decide where you want to stay while we wait. If you want to stay with the Nagaos until you’re in my custody officially, you can. If you want to stay with them and search for a different guardian, and not enter into my custody at all, that’s also fine.”
He stared at her.
“What…” He cleared his throat. “What would it be like, if I agreed to stay here?”
“Well, the room you’re using now would be converted into a full bedroom. We’d get your things from the Nagao household, of course, but also we’d arrange to go shopping for anything you need. You’ve already tested out of Middle School so, like Izuku, you’d spend your time studying for U.A.’s Entrance Exams in late January.”
“I could go to U.A.?” Shinsou’s eyes were pure steel. “How? I don’t have enough saved up for that.”
Toshinori cleared his throat.
“I have a scholarship in mind that you could apply for, young man. It’s through the hero agency I used to work for as a Pro. Failing that, however…”
“I was prepared to work for the next year and take out student loans for the difference.”
“You wanted to work enough to pay for U.A. out of pocket?” Toshinori asked, blinking.
Shinsou’s nostrils flared. He nodded.
“I figure the best I can get would be five days a week, and it would take me about seven months of spending nothing to work up the cost for one year. A foster family is usually good enough for food and board, so I wouldn’t have to bleed money on those.”
“That’s silly.” Inko said. “You can’t be legally employed until you’re fifteen. You would barely be able to make it, and that’s without considering the hour limitations for students under eighteen.”
Shinsou’s mouth lifted in a sneer.
“Silly or not, it’s all I’ve got, okay? I’m going to go to U.A. and I’m going to be a hero, no matter what.” His voice had the cadence of desperation, something repeated so often it became mantra.
“If you can’t get Toshinori’s scholarship then I’ll pay for it myself.” Inko snapped. “It’s not something I’ve budgeted for but we’ve got a few months to plan for it. You won’t need to take out any loans, either.”
Shinsou’s mouth fell slack.
“You’d do that?” His voice shook. “You don’t even know me.”
“Knowing you has nothing to do with it.” Inko said firmly. “Every kid needs somewhere safe to live. Every kid should get to go to school and follow their dreams. I might not be able to help every kid in Japan, but I’m hardly going to overlook you when you’re right here in front of me, in my house and needing help.”
“But–”
“Is that really an argument you want to win?” Izuku interrupted, pointedly. “It’s to your advantage.”
Toshinori muffled a laugh into his handkerchief.
“Yeah, unless you change your minds.” Shinsou said flatly.
“I’m a lawyer.” Inko challenged, almost softly. “Would you like to draw up a contract about it? You don’t have to trust my promises alone.”
Shinsou said nothing, flummoxed.
“Izukkun, Toshinori, why don’t you two give us a bit? We’re going to talk out all the options and then Shinsou is going to shower and change into some of Izuku’s spare clothes.”
“But, mom–” Izuku started, only for Toshinori’s broad hand to settle on his shoulder. Loke sat back in his chair, as unobtrusive as possible; the man, a parentless being who spent his time with a motley crew of mostly orphans, was a shameless coward in the face of a determined mother.
“Go clean your beach, boys.” Inko said, with finality. “We’ll be alright, here.”
Shinsou’s eyes darted to Izuku and he wet his lips nervously, but Izuku was already standing. Loke moved with him so fast he nearly turned back into light. Sorry, Shinsou, but that’s not a fight he’s going to win! Sometimes a combat retreat is the better part of valor.
Yagi, at one point a genuine pro hero, was already slipping on his shoes.
“Don’t forget your snacks!” Inko called, but they were nearly out the door and had no intention of turned back.
“We’ll-get-some-from-Yagi-san’s-house-bye-mom-love-you!” The door shutting cut off the trail end of Izuku’s words.
Chapter 4
On Saturday, Izuku cleaned the beach while Loke and Toshinori called out pointers from the steps and helped him organize trash bags. Dagobah Beach had within living memory been pristine and beautiful; now, towering trash heaps filled the sand, first from trash washing ashore and then from years of illegal dumping.
Izuku had made it his personal mission to see it shining once more, and day by day the piles were growing smaller, as his muscle development soared and his stamina entered new heights.
On Sunday, Izuku and his mom crossed the city and helped Shinsou pack all his things in cardboard boxes, renting a small truck to ferry it all to the Midoriya residence. Toshinori met them at the steps of their apartment building, helping tote up boxes with a laugh on his face.
“This is how we met.” Izuku explained to the bewildered purple-haired teen, as his mom and Yagi-san kept snickering. “I found out Yagi-san was moving into the building and uh, gently insisted on helping him with that move. Mom made him so much food that he eventually told us about his health condition, and from then on it became a whole thing.”
He smiled in memory as he picked up a new box, squinting at the sun.
“She made meals he could– heh– stomach, and I would take them to his shop, a few streets away. He needs to eat several really small meals a day but he’s awful about it, since he doesn’t really get hungry at all. Then I started volunteering at the shop, except I was there so often Yagi-san felt bad and started paying me, so I needed a new volunteer activity and he suggested the beach nearby.”
“So basically you adopted him.” Shinsou huffed, grinning. He set down his box and jogged to the kitchen, hesitating only briefly before grabbing out two bottles of water.
“Don’t spill this on me or my stuff.” He warned before tossing Izuku one.
“One time.” Izuku hissed. He laughed, taking long, satisfying drinks from it until was empty, and wiping his mouth. “Also, now that we’re home… Open, Gate of the Bull! Taurus!”
Gold light spilled out of him and the key he pulled from nowhere, until a giant of a Spirit with a bull’s head arrived, flexing badly.
“Moo!” He switched to a bicep flex. “Izuku, good to see you! Is your mother around?”
“She stopped carrying up boxes to get started on lunch.”
“Mooooooooooomidoriya’s Mooom Lunches! Ooh, you spoil me!” Hearts filled his eyes as he spun around with joy.
“You’re welcome to join us for lunch if you help me and Shinsou and Yagi-san finish up with these boxes.” Izuku bargained, to much enthusiastic consent. Taurus nodded his head so fervently Shinsou thought he’d get dizzy.
There was a huge axe strapped to his back.
“Combat Spirit, huh?” He asked, just to be– well, polite.
“Hm? Oh, yes, I suppose. Almost all my Spirits can fight. My guild-mates certainly can.” The green-haired boy laughed at the idea. “They’re actually pretty well known for their collateral damage, so.”
“Better be careful with that. Wouldn’t want to get a bad reputation.”
“Don’t I know it.” Izuku agreed. “I can only summon the twelve zodiac spirits, but it’s gotten a lot easier over the years as my magical power increased..”
“You say that a lot– ‘magical power’. And yesterday that Lion Spirit– Loke– called you a wizard. But it’s just your quirk, right?” Shinsou asked as they walked back down the stairs.
“Well, it’s certainly what my quirk is registered as, but everyone in Fiore seems pretty confident it’s magic I’m doing, and that I’ll get more powerful with time. I guess it doesn’t really matter one way or the other, right? It’s my power and I’m going to be a hero with it.”
Izuku gestured at the remaining boxes and Taurus began picking them up, two at a time, and climbing the stairs at a run. Shinsou almost stopped him, concerned about his only worldly possessions, but the Spirit didn’t even stumble.
“Must be nice.” Shinsou said, and at Izuku’s curious look, elaborated: “Having a quirk so suited for heroics.”
“Is this about your ‘villain’ quirk again?” Izuku made actual air quotes before picking up his cardboard box. Taurus, with inhuman speed and strength, breezed by them for another load, calling “hut, hut, hut” under his breath, a minotaur on a mission.
“Yes, it’s about my quirk.” Shinsou screwed his lips up in distaste. “Obviously, there’s a lot I can do with it, but when it comes to actual combat I’m basically fighting quirkless.”
“So do a lot of pros with mental quirks.” Izuku pointed out, counting on his fingers: “Ragdoll, Nighteye, Eraserhead, Ms. Joke. A lot of emitter types, actually. Regardless of what your quirk can do, any combat will have to be with your bare fists or support weapons.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this for someone with a really cool quirk.” Shinsou accused, huffing at the weight of a heavier box. He put it down and switched to a lighter one.
“Well, I was functionally quirkless for most of my life, so.” Izuku said it so casually, Shinsou tripped going up the stairs. He caught himself on the box he was carrying, then turned to stare at the other boy.
“What do you mean?”
“My quirk didn’t manifest in a measurable way until I was six. Beyond that, it took a few years before I could do anything with it at all. For most of my childhood, all I could do was hold a key while it glowed.”
“So, what’d you do?”
Izuku grinned.
“I held the key until it glowed brighter every day, until one day something else happened.” At Shinsou’s look, he elaborated with a laugh. “I summoned Loke. He’s the strongest of the zodiac spirits, so I really shouldn’t have been able to. Luckily, he knew what was happening and supplemented the summoning with his own magical power.”
He decided not to mention how obsessive he’d gotten with it, timing the glow on his phone’s stopwatch and increasing the time until he was red in the face, exhausted and drained and so tired he could barely stand up.
“Having a quirk that can explain itself is such a hack. Yours isn’t really ‘sentient quirk’ so much as… you know, summoning, but it’s still bullshit.”
Izuku tipped his head back and laughed hard.
“They eventually summoned me and explained the situation, yeah. Lucy, my– well, I guess you could call her my predecessor; it’s a little complicated– but she held the zodiac keys before me, so she did tell me how the magic works.”
“So you’re only a few years behind, then.” Shinsou pointed out, and after a minute Izuku realized he was trying to be supportive in his own awkward way.
“Yeah, I’ve been able to summon the Zodiac Spirits purposefully for about four years now. I–” He bit his lip. “I haven’t really been training my quirk because I thought I’d have time, you know? A whole year.”
“Trust me, I understand that.” They set their boxes down and Shinsou eyed the room that was going to be his.
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’s not like I can practice with my quirk.” His lips tipped up in a wry grin and Izuku laughed good-naturedly.
“You can use it on me if you want.” He offered, casually. “I’m not sure if you could actually Hypnotize a Spirit.”
Shinsou stared at him.
“What?” Izuku asked, wondering if he’d said something weird.
“‘You could use it on me’.” Shinsou parroted, tone thick with disbelief. “How do you just offer something like that? I could make you jump out a window.”
“Uh. Would you? I’m pretty sure one of my Spirits would catch me but that still seems like a bad plan.”
“No.” Shinsou bit out, but he was smiling despite himself. “Fuck. Fine. Quirk training it is.”
“Now?” Izuku perked up. “I’m really a bit of quirk enthusiast, you know. It’s a hobby. I’m kind of excited to see how yours works.”
That was an understatement.
Shinsou took a deep, stabilizing breath.
“Are you sure?” He asked, voice warbling a little.
“Yeah, totally s–” Izuku’s eyes glazed over.
“Sit down, for fuck’s sake.” Izuku sat. “Let’s let your Spirit finish up moving my stuff in, there were only a few more boxes left. It’s not like I have much, mostly clothes.”
Shinsou cut the connection and clarity returned to green eyes.
“Wow, that’s a rush! I remember doing everything but only as if through molasses.”
“Really?” Shinsou asked. “In the past, people didn’t have any memory of what I made them do.”
“Did you want them to?” Izuku asked and Shinsou was left staring, open-mouthed.
He clicked his jaw shut.
“You think that matters?”
“Let’s try again and see.” Izuku suggested eagerly.
“You’re something else.” Shinsou stared at him, frowning. “I’ve never been asked for a repeat performance.”
“This is me asking.” Izuku reassured. Taurus brought up two of the last few boxes.
“Well, this time I don’t want you to remember anything.” Shinsou said, as if puzzling through the words. “What do you think?”
“I think–” Izuku went under mid-sentence.
It wasn’t the last idea Izuku had, even after only having a day to come up with them. It was exciting to share his theories with someone who didn’t think it was weird.
They played around with Shinsou’s quirk until lunch time, during which Izuku’s Taurus was full of polite, if overenthusiastic compliments for his mother (and her cooking).
After that, they returned to Shinsou’s room to work on unpacking. Izuku dismissed the Bull and pulled out another key.
When Shinsou looked at him with curiosity, Izuku confessed: “I think rapidly de-summoning and re-summoning another Spirit works better for my stamina, if I can’t have them fight.”
Shinsou nodded and Izuku swung the key around dramatically, light flaring.
“Open: Gate of the Maiden! Virgo!”
A pink-haired woman appeared, blue eyes wide. She was wearing a maid costume. No, a legitimate maid uniform.
The new Spirit looked around Shinsou’s box-covered room and said in the world’s flattest voice:
“It is a maid’s job to clean up around the house. Izu-sama, will you punish me if I don’t finish in a timely manner?” Her expression did not change.
Izuku’s cheeks flooded with heat.
“Um, yes. If we don’t finish Shinsou’s room tonight with your help, then you’ll have to. Um. Eat a full, healthy serving of vegetables tonight with dinner.”
Virgo seemed a little disappointed about the nature of the punishment, but smiled nonetheless.
“Thank you, Izu-sama. This one will endeavor to finish on time.”
She turned mechanically and started pulling out Shinsou’s clothes.
“Wait, you’ve got a live-in maid Spirit that asks you for sexy punishment?” A cat-like grin stole across Shinsou’s lips as the potential for roasting appeared, growing larger by the minute.
“What!?” Izuku sputtered, head whipping around to stare at him. “It’s not like that!”
“Oh, then what are those manacles around her wrists? She’s clearly into some freaky stuff and considers you her ‘master’.”
“Shinsou I will give you whatever you want to stop talking.” Izuku said desperately.
“Okay, Izu-sama.”
“Shinsou!”