Your Body and Heart - tomuraki - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia (2024)

Chapter 1: I was so disappointed

Chapter Text

Tenko felt like he was about to cough up a lung, leaning against a damp alley wall and clutching at his throat as he hacked up ash. Dust, dust that came from...

His eyes widened, vermillion irises swallowing his pupils until they were tiny pinpricks of darkness as he emptied his stomach onto the floor for the second time that day. Tenko wiped the thick, ashen red fluid from the corner of his mouth and looked up, desperate to keep himself from seeing the contents of what he just threw up. The last time it happened he swore he saw-

Tenko gagged, and decided not to revisit the memory.

He straightened his shirt, wheezed a few deep, heavy breaths, and stepped back out onto the street. It was late at night but there was a crowd, all standing around and staring in shock at the remains of Tenko’s house. He saw people in special suits carrying sealed bags of ash out of the front gate, and wondered which of his family members it was. How many of their pieces had become too mixed together to differentiate as they all collapsed to dust in the same place as the last.

He tried to get a woman’s attention—without touching her, of course—but she was too busy taking photos of his house to look down at him. He saw a girl his age and tried to ask her for help, but his voice was barely there and rasped in his throat, and the girl hid behind her dad’s legs. He jumped and waved and nudged and tried his best to smile, but barely any looked down at him, and the ones that did either recoiled in disgust or shoved him away frustratedly. Tenko felt like he was going to cry, but he held it in. Crying just made his dad angrier, it would probably make the other adults angrier too.

Tenko retreated to a different alley, this one seeming colder and darker than the last, but at least it didn’t have the ashen, bloody puddle in one corner. He pressed his back against the wall and slowly sunk down it, sitting with a thump and feeling his shorts get wet as they soaked up the water and god knew what else that dampened the floor. At least he’d had the sense not to touch his clothes. Tenko’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the weak weeds poking through the alley grout, and grabbed onto them hard. The feeling of the drab plants crumbling between his fingers made him feel better for a moment, before the fear and guilt washed over him tenfold.

Tenko wasn’t stupid. He knew that he shouldn’t like breaking the grass, he knew that he shouldn’t have smiled when he reached for his father’s face and yet...

Tenko was cold. So, so cold. Dry hands pulled his knees to his chest and he shuddered to himself in a grimy corner of an alley, somewhere in Musutafu. He’d been alone for a day, it had been a whole day since he... since he felt his family crumble beneath his fingertips. Tenko clenched his eyes closed tightly, hoping that maybe if he just tried hard enough, he’d be able to go to sleep. Anything would be better than being awake, lying on cold, damp brick and thinking about...

Tenko let out a soft whimper and tucked his face further between his knees. His hands clenched tighter at his sides, and he felt tears begin brimming in his eyes.

Maybe if he wished hard enough, his stupid quirk will kill him like it killed his family.

With the memory of his dog’s soft fur becoming wet and clumped with blood, the feeling of his fingers twined with dust, Tenko drifted into fitful slumber.

= = =

Midoriya Inko walked quickly down the street, pushing her son in a stroller. She struggled with the plastic bags in her hands as she tried to keep the old stroller moving straight, earning her pitying looks from passers by. They probably thought she was some kind of abandoned, irresponsible teen mother or something, she knew her facial structure made her seem younger than she was. She hooked her shopping bags over the handles of the stroller and powered forward, her son cooing excitedly as they streamed past shiny storefronts and interesting people.

In hindsight she probably should’ve been going a little slower, because when the stroller dipped into a crack in the sidewalk, the momentum made the handle of one of her bags snap from its own weight. Inko watched tiredly as her groceries fell to the floor and tumbled into the street, too exhausted to react as she usually would. She flicked the stopper on her stroller and set about using her quirk to pull everything back to her, putting it back into the bag as neatly as she could and resolving to just carry the torn plastic in her hand.

Just as she was about to start moving forward again, she heard Izuku let out a whimper. She leaned forward to check on him, and saw a pudgy baby finger pointed out into the alley beside them. Reaching down to ruffle his short curls comfortingly, she kept her eyes on the alley. It had been less than a year since Izuku was born, and he was already incredibly perceptive, she knew better than to ignore him specifically pointing something out. Expecting the worst, Inko pulled out her phone and turned on the torch, shining it into the alley to see...

A boy. Maybe four or five years old, curled up and clearly dehydrated. Inko nearly jumped in shock when the boy looked up, red eyes sunken and surrounded with black shadows. His eyes widened as the alley lit up and the boy shuffled back into the shadows, but Inko had already seen enough. She was a new mother, and even if she wasn’t, she could never just leave a child in an alley.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s your name?” The boy looked terrified as she inched closer, making intense eye contact as his pale blue hair fell over his face. His skin was dry, scarred and cracked, and the young boy was sporting a nasty split lip that made Inko fear the worst for him. Where were his parents?

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you sweetheart.” She stepped closer and bent down onto her knees, trying to appear non-threatening.

“Where are your parents?” The boy flinched, and Inko felt a tug at her heart when tears sprang to his eyes. She looked back to Izuku quickly, watching the baby reach out toward them. She grabbed the stroller and pulled it closer to her.

“I... Mom...” he choked out, and the sight made Inko start tearing up too.

“It’s alright, you’re okay. Can you tell me your name?” The boy seemed to frown, clearly remembering the warnings about strangers he’s no doubt been given. His eyes drift to the baby by Inko’s side, then back to her.

“Uh... Shimura... Te-Ten-Tenko.” He stuttered out, voice raspy and uneven, but Inko nodded. Shimura, where had she heard that name before? She pouted, unsure what to do next, then tried to reach toward the boy. He flinched again, and Inko pulled her hand back to her side immediately. She sat back on her heels and kept her hands screwed in the fabric of her skirt.

“Are you hungry?” She asked tentatively, unsure what she was supposed to do. She hadn’t been a mother for long, and had virtually no experience with children outside of her own and Mitsuki’s son. The boy nodded tentatively, and she figured that was a good place to start.

“Right! Well, do you want to come with me and- or, no, you probably got told not to go anywhere with strangers, right?” The boy nodded, and she smiled softly. She hoped it was reassuring.

“Well, I’m Midoriya Inko. That’s my son, Izuku. Would you like to say hello to him?” The boy looked back over to the stroller, where Izuku was making grabby hands toward them, then he looked down at his hands. He clenched his hands into fists, and then crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits tightly.

“No.” He said quietly, almost regretfully, and Inko frowned for a second.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to. Would you like food?” His gaze whipped back up to hers and he nodded, and Inko smiled as she reached back to her shopping bag. She dug through it and eventually found a small packet of chips she had planned to put out when the Bakugou’s came to visit. This was definitely more important.

“Here you go.” He reached forward to take the bag, then his eyes widened and he pulled back.

“Are you okay?” The boy looked on he verge of tears, clenching his hands to his chest and then throwing them to his sides with a huff.

“I... I can’t... tou-touch it.” Inko frowned, the pieces slowly coming together in the back of her mind. His surname was bugging her, swinging back and forth through her thoughts as she tried to make a connection she didn’t understand. Something was terribly wrong here. She looked around the alley and picked up a rock.

“Can you touch this?” She asked, holding it toward him. He pouted, then held his hand out, and she dropped it into his cupped palms. The second his fingers closed over it, it crumbled to dust. Oh.

Oh.

No family to be seen, a quirk that turned things to dust, that name...

She knew this kid. Well, she knew what had happened, she’d seen the story of the crumbled house that used to be home to a family of six, and she had promptly shut it off. She tried to stop the realisation from showing on her face, but then the boy’s eyes widened. It seemed he too was scarily perceptive.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t—I didn’t mean to! It just happened and I...“ he trailed off as his voice became too weak to make it out of his throat, and his hands came up to the sides of his face, twisting into his hair and digging into his dry skin, scratching as his eyes clenched shut and his posture hunched and-

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look at me, Shi—Tenko.” The boy’s hands slowly left his hair, and he cracked an eye open.

“It isn’t your fault, Tenko. I’m just glad you’re okay.” She reached behind her and grabbed the bag of chips, opening it and pulling one out. She held it toward the boy, who averted his eyes in embarrassment before leaning forward and biting it. As he chewed, Inko had an idea.

“What if we get you gloves? Do you think you could wear gloves?” The boy frowned, and Inko’s expression brightened.

“Okay, wait here. I’ll be right back.” She left the bag of chips with him as she grabbed Izuku’s stroller, the boy babbling quietly to himself as she powered toward the nearest convenience store.

She bought the smallest pair of rubber gloves she could find, and then rushed back out to him. She handed him the gloves, and he held them balanced awkwardly in the middle of his palms.

“Hm, okay, let me just...” she grabbed the gloves and tried to stretch them over his hand, but the second he started slipping his fingers into it, it started to turn to dust. Inko dropped it quickly, and the glove crumbled around the boy’s hand.

Inko frowned, considering for a moment.

“Okay, well, how about this. Touch this with one finger.” She held up the second glove and stretched it into a flat surface. The boy hesitated, and she smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. If it starts breaking, I’ll drop it.” He seemed to relax slightly at that, and reached forward. With one finger extended, the boy flinched back as he made contact, expecting it to crumble, but it didn’t. Inko felt excitement building in her chest.

“Okay, try two.” Tenko touched the glove with two fingers, then three, then four, and it remained in tact. Then he pressed all five fingertips to it, and it crumbled away quietly. Tenko seemed to retract in on himself, but Inko smiled brightly.

“That’s good! That means you need all five fingers for it to work. I have an idea!” She rushed back to the store and bought another pair of gloves and a pair of scissors, the cashier looking at her and her baby weirdly as he checked out their items.

She opened the containers as she rushed across the street, dropping back to her knees and probably skinning them at her eagerness to get back to Tenko’s side.

“Okay, let’s try this.” She grabbed a glove and the scissors and cut off the corner, removing the index and middle finger parts from the glove. Then, she stretched it wide and held the hole open.

“Keep the rest of your fingers in a fist, and put your two fingers through here.” The boy’s crimson eyes brightened as he realised what was happening, and he carefully slipped his fingers through the gap.

“Okay, now put the rest on normally.” The boy unfolded his hand and slipped the rest of his fingers into the corresponding glove parts, and once they were in Inko softly returned the wrist of the glove to his hands. The boy flexed his fingers once, then Inko picked up a rock.

“Grab this.”

She held it out to him, and with a shaky hand he reached forward and took it in all five fingers. Nothing happened. Inko laughed breathlessly and quickly picked up the other glove, cutting off the same two fingers and repeating the process on the boy’s left hand. When both gloves were on, Inko handed him the bag of chips. The boy looked at her uncertainly, then after a nod from Inko he started eating. It was clear he hadn’t had anything for a while.

After a minute, in which Inko left him to his business to try and restore some calm to Izuku, he cleared his throat quietly.

“Ah... thank you... Mi- Mid- Midoriya-san.” She smiled brightly and reached forward, intending to take his hand. He flinched back, so Inko let it be.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. How about you come with me?” Tenko furrowed his eyebrows at that, once again looking her over as he picked at the gloves on his hands. The boy clearly didn’t trust her, and Inko sighed. Obviously there was far more going on than the brief section of the news coverage had told her.

“Hm. How old are you, Tenko?”

“Um... five.” Inko’s eyes brightened, and she coaxed him forward slightly.

“Really? When’s your birthday?” She said in a mock whisper, and the corner of Tenko’s mouth twitched up.

“Uh, April... fffourth.” She gasped at the answer and leant down until they were nearly eye level.

“That was pretty recent, wasn’t it?” She responded, and he gave her a small nod.

“Well, my birthday is July fourth, so we’re kinda similar!” She said, and this made Tenko brighten.

“When’s his birthday?” He asked tentatively, his voice slightly clearer, as he pointed to Izuku where he sat quietly in his stroller. The baby boy had one hand in his mouth as he watched the other intently, slowly and carefully articulating his little baby fingers. Inko’s heart warmed, and she turned back to the other boy.

“His is July fifteenth. So we’re all sort of connected, aren’t we? Our birthdays are on the same day, and Izuku’s birthday is in the same month as mine.” She said, and Tenko nodded, red eyes brightening. It almost reminded her of Katuski, those eyes of his. He seemed to have taken her little birthday connection tangent to heart, and Inko was immensely grateful. Interesting, cute little bits of information and theory like that were her specialty.

“Okay, Tenko. Do you want to come with me? I think we need to go to the police.” Tenko froze, and when he met Inko’s eyes she could practically see him trying to figure out a way to escape.

“You aren’t in trouble! It’s just, well, nobody knows you’re here, sweetheart. Do you have any other family that lives nearby?” Tenko frowned, then shook his head. Okay, that’s fine.

“Well, we need to go to a police station and call you in, so that they can organise a family member or someone to look after you.” She explained slowly, softly, internally cringing as Tenko’s expression dropped. He looked at her, at Izuku, down at his half-gloved hands, and then he nodded, gaze still down to the ground.

“Okay, come on.” She reached forward and this time Tenko tentatively took her hand, the rubber gloves squeaking quietly against Inko’s sweaty palms. They stepped out onto the street and Inko pulled a 180 from the direction she had originally been going, turning around and heading toward the police station.

Finally they arrived, and Inko pushed the stroller one handed into the building, Tenko holding her other hand and trailing behind.

The receptionist was a young woman, possibly around the same age as Inko, and her expression brightened at the sight of Izuku.

“Aw, what a cutie. What’s his name?” She leaned over the desk to look down at Izuku, who smiled and started babbling nonsense to her.

“Izuku, he’s a year old in a couple of months.” Inko supplied easily, and the woman cooed.

“What a sweetheart! You’re a little sweetheart, aren’t you?” Her tone shifted to what seemed to be universally regarded as baby-talk, and Izuku clapped at her.

“Anyways, what can I do ya for, miss?” The woman said, directing her gaze back to Inko.

“Um, I found this boy alone in an alley a few streets down.” At his mention, Tenko stepped out from behind Inko’s legs, waving a half-gloved hand nervously. Inko saw the woman’s expression shift from shock to disgust to guilt within a second, before settling on the classic ‘concerned customer service’ face. If there was one thing that Inko had come to understand about the little boy, however, it was that he absolutely wouldn’t have missed those expressions, he knew exactly what she thought of him.

“Oh goodness! What’s your name, little man?” She spoke down to Tenko, who eyed her suspiciously as he pulled at his gloves.

“Um, Tenko.” He said, and Inko put a soft hand on his head, fingers brushing over greasy, dirty waves of pale hair. He looked up at her, and she gave him a small smile, which seemed to calm his nerves slightly.

“Okay, Tenko. Can you tell me your surname?” The receptionist said, typing something into her computer.

“Shimura.” The woman hummed and typed some more, then froze, eyes scanning the screen in disbelief. She flicked her gaze back down to the boy, and then to Inko, beckoning her closer.

“Shimura, as in the family that...” she trailed off, gaze drifting back to the boy who was watching them blank-faced. She frowned, and Inko sighed.

“I believe so,” she said, and the woman’s expression turned fearful as she gave Tenko another once over. The boy was clearly uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem aware of it.

“And the gloves?” She whispered conspiratorially, and Inko barely withstood the urge to roll her eyes.

“His quirk is very destructive with all five fingers, so we put together a solution so that he could have something to eat. Right, sweetheart?” She said, including Tenko in the conversation because she had a feeling being talked about was the last thing he wanted at that moment. He nodded shyly, and Inko didn’t miss the way the receptionists eyes narrowed.

“Okay. Let me just make a quick call, you three have a seat over there.” She said concisely, pointing over to the row of three chairs against the side wall. Inko took a seat and pulled Izuku’s stroller over to face her, and Tenko sat to her other side.

“You’ve been doing so well, Tenko. I’m really proud of you. We’ll get a policeman or policewoman in, we’ll figure out what happened, and then we can get you someone to stay with, okay?” Tenko nodded solemnly, then his gaze returned to Izuku.

“He’s very happy,” the boy observed quietly, watching Izuku take in the scenery of the police station. The baby’s veridian eyes met Tenko’s crimson, and Izuku reached out toward him. Tenko seemed to move to take his hand, then pulled back.

“I don’t want to... he’s so little,” he muttered softly to himself, but Inko got the gist of what he was trying to say.

“You won’t hurt him, Tenko. You have your gloves, we tested it, remember? You didn’t get through the glove until all five fingers touched it, and you didn’t break anything else while you had the gloves on.

“But... if it changes,” he whispered, still watching the baby tensely, and Inko just wanted to hug him.

“It’s okay, Tenko. You don’t need to do anything if you’re scared. I just want you to be comfortable.” Tenko relaxed at that, and leaned slightly forward.

“Hi baby,” he said softly, and Izuku giggled, reaching for his face. A small smile tugged at Tenko’s lips, drawing Inko’s attention to the harsh split in his upper lip.

“Ah, I forgot about that! Let me go to the bathroom and get paper towel, okay? Can you watch Izuku for me?” Tenko nodded firmly, and Inko quickly rushed to the bathroom. She figured it would be fine, a police station was easily one of the safest places any innocent civilian could be, she could rush off for a quick minute.

Apparently she was wrong, because when she returned a minute later with a couple of damp paper towels, Izuku was whimpering, and Tenko was on the verge of tears as a police officer forced a cup of water and a pill into his hands. Inko had never crossed a room so quickly before in her life.

“I’m sorry, what is that?” She said, tone scornful in a way she hadn’t intended it to be.

“A quirk suppressant, ma’am. The boy’s quirk is highly dangerous and he is unstable.” The officer’s expression was calm, as if he’d been through this type of situation hundreds of times before. The thought was enough to bring Inko’s blood to a boil.

“He was perfectly stable before you came over here! And he has gloves, we’ve already tested it! His quirk needs all five fingers to make contact for it to do anything, he’s harmless!” She cried, gesturing angrily at the boy who was crying new tears over the stains on his cheeks.

“Just a precaution, ma’am.” He said, still trying to force the pill into Tenko’s hands as he adamantly tried to push it away. Inko spluttered and pushed the officer back.

“How do expect him to take that!? He could barely eat a few minutes ago!” She was bordering on hysterical, and Izuku had started wailing. The officer’s eyes narrowed and Inko thought she was about to be yelled at when a different officer stepped in.

“We have a liquid version. I acknowledge your concern ma’am, but the suppressant is a safety precaution, I don’t mean to offend but I doubt you’ve discovered everything there is to be known about this quirk in the short time you’ve known him.” This officer said solemnly, holding forward a small medicine cup of pale blue liquid. Inko met their eyes exasperatedly, but it was clear the officers wouldn’t budge.She took the cup and turned to Tenko, getting down to her knees.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You just need to drink this. It won’t hurt you, I promise,” she said, and Tenko took the cup, swallowed the contents, and then pulled a face at the taste.

“Okay. Thank you for dropping him by, ma’am, we can take it from here.” The second the quirk suppressant was in Tenko’s stomach the officer stepped forward and put a hand on Tenko’s shoulder, moving to steer him further into the building. It was clear as day that Tenko was panicking as he dug his heels into the carpeted floor, yet he was entirely silent. Meeting the eyes of the first officer, Inko only saw cold professionalism.

In that moment she knew that if she left Tenko in their hands, he would end up traumatised from investigations and hopped up on prescribed quirk suppressants, being sent between foster homes and orphanage buildings for the rest of his life. She couldn’t let him go through that. She clenched her fist, tears coming to her eyes as she took a step forward.

“Wait, I want to adopt him!” She practically yelled, and the officer holding Tenko turned to face her slowly.

“You what?” The officer said, almost incredulous. Inko knew what they were doing. Giving her the option to back out, because they believed that nobody wanted to—or deserved to have to—care for the kid. It only steeled her decision as Inko closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she met the officer’s eyes, her vermillion gaze glinted with determination.

“I want,” she started, taking another step forward to drive the point home, “to adopt him.”

Chapter 2: I guess I got to my head

Chapter Text

Tenko froze in place, looking warily back over his shoulder as the woman who’d helped him called out to the police. His head was full of static, but he swore he heard the word ‘adopt’, and he couldn’t comprehend it.

Didn’t she know? She knew what he did, he saw it in her eyes, why would she want to let him into her house? She has a baby! A little baby with poofy hair and freckles, and if Tenko touches the baby then the baby will die.

Tenko watched the woman with wide eyes as she stepped forward and started talking to the officer, the one with a painful grip on Tenko’s shoulder, but the static in his head was getting louder. He hated the static, hated how it sounded and how it felt, like the concept of sound itself was shattering beneath his fingers and filling his mind.

Tenko pressed his gloved hands hard over his ears, willing the sound to go away as he clenched his eyes shut, and somewhere in the back of his swirling mind he registered the grip on his shoulder alleviate. Soft hands pulled his away from his ears, and when he opened his eyes he saw green. A dark, foresty green, like the woods near his school that he was never allowed to venture into.

Tenko watched green eyes shimmer as the woman—Midoriya-san, spoke to him, and slowly, his mind filled with a soft haze, and then it, and the panicking static, cleared.

“Tenko, it’s okay. I’ll look after you, right?” Tenko felt his mouth waver as frustrated tears built behind his eyes. She didn’t get it. Tenko tried to tell her but she didn’t understand. He didn’t need protecting, she needed protecting from him! She needed to get away before his power came back or changed again and he destroyed everything. He pushed her away with the backs of his hands, and Midoriya-san sighed.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Tenko. I trust you.” ...maybe she did get it. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t wrong. She clearly didn’t know how dangerous he was, he was broken. He killed his father, he did it deliberately, he smiled while the man’s face cracked and broke. He wasn’t a good person, he didn’t deserve-

“Tenko, why don’t you go watch Izuku for me, sweetheart. I just need to talk to these people for a moment.” Midoriya-san smiled as she held his clenched fists together in her hands, and then she softly directed him back to the stroller a few meters away. It was nice... being handled gently for once. His mom was gentle, but she was also gentle when people hurt him.

Midoriya-san didn’t do that, she protected him from the other mean adults, and that’s why he didn’t want her to die. She didn’t deserve it.

Tenko looked down at the baby in the stroller, who was slowly dozing off. He remembered Midoriya-san saying he wasn’t a year old yet, but the baby already had a full head of poofy green hair, and his skin was dotted with freckles like he’d spent his whole life playing in the sun. Maybe he had.

Tenko kind of wanted to hug him, he was just that kind of kid. The kind that you just wanted to protect. The baby—Izuku—opened one sparkling green eye, and cooed at Tenko when they made eye contact. Tenko let a small smile tug on the corner of his lips, but he kept his hands firmly at his sides.

“Hi, Izuku.” He said quietly, and the baby let out a little squeal, reaching up to touch his face. Tenko pulled back, and the baby made a frustrated noise as he continued to try and reach up to him. The baby was starting to tear up, and Tenko knew it wanted to be picked up but he couldn’t, he couldn’t...

“Oh, hey baby, it’s okay Izu.” Midoriya-san was back at his side, and she reached in to pick Izuku up out of the stroller. She looked down at Tenko and smiled softly.

“Don’t worry, he’s just bored. He’s been in that stroller for almost a couple of hours now.” She said, bouncing him softly in her arms.

“But we just have to go across town and pick up some paperwork, then everything should be fine.” She said, guiding Tenko toward the door, when an officer cleared his throat behind them.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, he can’t leave.” The officer said gruffly, and Inko sighed.

“I’m looking after him.” She said sternly, and the man ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s also a key witness in, if not the sole suspect for, a major murder case. We need to question him. Plus, you don’t have custody of him, he has to stay at the station until he can be picked up by a legal guardian.” Tenko didn’t understand parts of that sentence, but he knew he didn’t like it. Questioning? Being left here? No, he wouldn’t do either of those.

“So you’re just going to keep him here for what, the weeks until my paperwork goes through? How will you feed him? Where will he sleep!?” She said, and the officer shook his head.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t take him out of this building.” It was clear the guy wasn’t going to budge. Midoriya-san knelt down in front of Tenko and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Okay. I need to go, it’ll only be an hour before I come back to organise some stuff. You tell me everything that happens when I get back, yeah?” Tenko nodded, trying not to let his dissapointment show on his face.

He trusted Midoriya-san, the last time she left and said she’d be back she really was, but he couldn’t help but feel like she wouldn’t stay. None of the others ever did. She straightened, sent one last glare at the officer, and then hurried out the door, the baby in her arms and the stroller pulled along behind her. The officer looked down at Tenko, and a small frown tugged on his face.

“You need a bath. C’mon, Tenko, was it?” Tenko nodded, and the man gave him a small smile before extending his hand. Tenko looked at it for a second, and the man’s smile saddened.

“It’s okay, just follow me. We’ll take you to the showers in the break room.” The man started walking back in the direction the other officers had tried to take him earlier. Tenko was wary, he knew all about how terrible adults could be, but this one wasn’t trying to force him, so he followed cautiously into the break room.

He saw several other cops on the way, and every one of them gave him weird looks, so he kept his head down and sped up to hide behind his guide. They arrived in the bathroom, the man made sure he was okay to shower by himself, and then left him to his business.

As Tenko sat on the tiled floor of the shower and watched blood and grime wash off of him, scrubbing away at the flaky skin on his face until it was raw, he might’ve cried. He couldn’t really tell, he didn’t feel all that sad, but his eyes hurt and they were puffy the way they always were when he cried. Despite that, they didn’t itch. None of him did, and he counted it as a good thing.

= = =

Inko strapped Izuku into his seat and got into the car as fast as she could, speeding toward the courthouse to pick up the necessary forms.

It was lucky that the police wanted to get rid of Tenko so quickly, they didn’t tell her to contact a professional. She just had to explain what was happening, get whatever forms were necessary, and hand everything in to be confirmed or denied in court. Hopefully confirmed, though.

It wasn’t like anyone else was looking to adopt him, it should be a simple process.

She arrived, and a man in a clean pressed black suit explained to her what she needed to do. A, she needed to prove that the boy’s biological parents consented to, or shouldn’t be allowed to consent to the adoption, and B, she needed to be heard by the Family Court, since Tenko was under the age of six. She agreed, registered the correct forms that she could at the time about Tenko’s family, and the man assured her that he’d get her case to court as soon as possible.

He handed her another stack of forms to be completed and returned, and she was gone within an hour of her arrival.

She had the pile of papers sitting in her lap as she drove, aiming to get back to the police station as quick as she could. While obeying the speed limit, of course. She had a baby on board. Halfway there, Izuku started crying, and Inko had to make the split decision to turn around and head home.

She called Mitsuki on the way, put her on speaker, and explained the situation. Her friend tutted and teased her for her good heart, but accepted the task of babysitting Izuku alongside Katsuki easily. The kids got along quite well, for two babies that couldn’t yet talk.

She dropped Izuku off and said her quick but polite greeting to her friend and her son, then jumped immediately back into the car. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but she was a single mother and as far as she was concerned, one of her children was alone with people who wanted to harm him.

When she returned to the station, she went up to the woman at the front desk and asked where Tenko was, and she pointed her down a hall to the left with a pained smile on her face. Inko marched down the hall, expecting the worst, but instead found Tenko curled up and colouring on the floor, a policeman standing guard at the door and offering gentle conversation to the occupied boy.

He was clean, no longer covered in filth, and his eyes weren’t so shadowed, He was wearing different clothes to the ones he’d came in wearing, and the officer explained that Tenko had showered and they’d put him in some clean lost property clothing.

“Hey, Tenko. How are you?” She asked, and the boy looked up from his colouring for the first time since she’d entered the room. There was a small smile on his face, and her heart melted.

“Hi, Midoriya-san. I’m... I’m good.” He frowned at that, as if it was something unexpected, reaching up and scratching absentmindedly at his temple. His gloves were different, he was wearing proper black fabric ones now that had the pinky and ring fingers exposed down to just beneath the first knuckle, and Inko internally sighed.

It was good, the last thing she wanted was for him to to tear the gloves and accidentally decay something, it would set back all of the progress he’s made in touching things again.

“That’s good, sweetheart. I’m just going to sit here and fill out some forms, okay?” And so she did, sitting at a little table in the corner and watching over Tenko as he drew and she filled out registration form after registration form, her hands cramping up. Things about herself, her household and her family, things about Tenko that she had to ask him about, and those questions brought along the awful realisation that Tenko’s father hadn’t exactly been the best man. There was plenty about his family Tenko didn’t know, however, and Inko had to leave those parts blank.

Once she finished the first batch of forms, the ones about herself, she went back to the courthouse and turned them in. She explained that Tenko’s family was dead and that there was a lot of information about them that she and the boy didn’t know, and the man assured her that they’d be able to fill in the blanks for this case. The man assured Inko they’d be in contact within the week, and she sighed acceptingly. That was the best she was going to get, she supposed.

Finally, it was 8pm, and Inko really needed to get home. She practically begged the officer to let her take Tenko home, but he refused. He said they had to send him to an orphanage as soon as possible, and that she could visit him and pick him up from there once everything was organised.

She gave him her phone number, and ordered him to text her the orphanage location as soon as he knew it. He seemed intimidated, which Inko might’ve found laughable if she weren’t so serious, but he agreed.

When she returned home and picked up Izuku, she spent the entire night thinking about the boy from the alley, and what she could do to help him.

= = =

Tenko got moved into a police car, and the nice officer from earlier sat in the driver’s seat. He said they were going somewhere that he could stay until Midoriya-san was allowed to pick him up.

Tenko sort of wished he could just stay at the police station, he’d already bargained on adults several times and so far only two of the dozens had been nice to him. He didn’t expect that winning streak to last very long.

After what Tenko thought was probably twenty minutes of driving, the officer helped him out of the car and kept a small distance between them as they entered the building. They were met with a nice-looking lady at the front desk, but Tenko didn’t feel relief. The lady at the front desk of the police station had looked nice, but she had been grossed out and scared of him, even if she hadn’t said anything about it.

The police officer spoke to the woman for a while and eventually waved him goodbye, as the lady came around from behind the desk and leant down in front of Tenko.

“Hey, buddy. Can I call you Tenko?” Tenko’s eyebrows raised—nobody had ever asked him what they could call him before—and he nodded.

“Okay, Tenko, why don’t you come with me and we can get you set up with some pyjama’s and a bed, huh?” She was baby-talking him, which Tenko found a little annoying. But he was a polite boy, so he nodded again and followed the woman through the simple white door at the back of the reception area.

They walked down a clean, brightly lit hall, and the woman opened one of the doors and ushered Tenko into a small room, where two sets of bunk beds were set up, three of the four beds with other children lying in them. The woman went over to a dresser against the back wall, pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt, and then left Tenko to change.

She knocked gently on the door a few minutes later, and handed Tenko a toothbrush, directing him down to the end of the hall. She watched him walk slowly and crack the door open, peering into the room, just for a second, before he opened it fully and stepped inside.

He brushed his teeth, went back down to the room he was in earlier, and the woman muttered a soft goodnight from the doorway as Tenko bundled himself up in blankets and fell asleep.

= = =

“What do you mean, someone else is trying for custody!? I’m the only one here!” Inko practically screeched at the woman in the orphanage, and she laughed awkwardly.

“I’m sorry ma’am, another person has already called in and said they want to adopt one Shimura Tenko.” She seemed uneasy as she said it, and Inko quirked an eyebrow.

“...who is it?” She asked tentatively, and the woman looked at her with a pained expression, seeming into have a debate with herself, before she turned on her heel and beckoned Inko to follow her behind the front desk.

“He didn’t supply a first name, but his surname is Shigaraki. All we know about him is that he’s rich, he’s old, and he’s willing to pay ¥1,000,000 for the kid you found.” Inko blanched, staring at the screen where the email was displayed.

“W...w—well that’s just worrying, isn’t it? No person with good intentions would pay that much for a small child, unless there were laws keeping them from having a kid that they wanted to bypass. Right?” The woman nodded sympathetically.

“I know, that’s what I’ve been saying, but my boss is pretty keen to just take the money. We do have a lot of other kids to look after,” she said softly, and Inko felt herself panicking. How did everything go so wrong overnight!

“Um, well, he would still have to prove that his home was viable, right? They wouldn’t just hand Tenko over!” The woman nodded again, looking back over to where Tenko was playing with blocks and acting like he couldn’t hear them.

“That’s true, but if he doubled those numbers?” She trailed off, picking at the cracked wood of the front desk.

“I’m just saying... money makes the world go round, Midoriya-san.” Inko sighed, patting her legs as she tried to think of a solution.

“If I brought it public, he wouldn’t be able to pay people off anymore, right? If I requested a full hearing with a jury and all that for custody, and I got it, he wouldn’t be able to just quietly take Tenko, right?” Inko said, volume slowly building. She was literally desperate for the woman to agree, she needed somewhere to start. She knew she was bordering on hysterics, but if someone else—someone uninvolved in her level of emotional investment—was able to agree to her plan... well, that would give her something to do.

“I... think that would work, yeah.” Inko was out of the door before she even finished the sentence. Then, thirty seconds later, she returned, said goodbye to Tenko, and rushed back out again.

She returned to the man who’d helped her the previous day, who got part way through explaining that someone else was after Tenko before she cut him off, asking him if it was possible for a full hearing with both parties present, and he looked confused. So then she spent five minutes of her precious time explaining that yes, she understood it would be difficult, but that there was some old guy trying to buy the kid out from under her.

Finally the man agreed, and Inko went back to spend more time with Tenko. So much of the adoption process was waiting, and Inko was tired of it. She wanted to take Tenko shopping, buy him clothes and a bed, take him to lunch, enroll him in school, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know if she would get custody of him yet, and she couldn’t afford to buy those things then lose them if Tenko was taken away.

They were confined to the orphanage, and while it wasn’t a bad place to be, every second Inko spent around the rest of the kids just made her want to adopt more of them. They would watch her play with Tenko with jealousy in their eyes, and Inko wanted to house each and every one of them. But she couldn’t, so she just tried to avert her eyes.

Izuku seemed to like Tenko though, and Tenko was good to the baby, being patient and gentle as they stacked blocks, enunciating each of the colours on the side as he said them to help the little boy pick up the words. It was incredible to watch, and every instance of Tenko being an incredible older brother made Inko more desperate to have the custody battle over with. Everything was filled out and signed, she just had to wait for the trial.

= = =

Tenko was allowed to leave the orphanage for the first time in a couple of weeks, but nobody really told him why. He was dressed in new clothes—far fancier than he’d ever owned before—by a woman with spiky blonde hair and red eyes like his, and herded unceremoniously into a police car.

He’d heard the words ‘trial’ and ‘testimony’ a lot, both words that he’d seen Midoriya-san say to the orphanage lady while she’d been writing on those papers. Tenko had a vague idea what was happening from listening to those conversations, today was the day that he’d either go home with Midoriya-san, with some strange man, or stay in the orphanage, probably forever.

Needless to say, one of those outcomes was much more appealing to him than the other two.

He kicked the back of the seat in front of him as they drove, but the cop didn’t yell at him. Tenko was still getting used to that, people letting him do stuff. It was weird, he felt like he was doing something wrong. So he stopped kicking, and the man made eye contact with him through the rear view mirror and smiled softly.

“Don’t be nervous, buddy. Midoriya has a great case, and the other guy has never even visited you. I’m sure you’ll be asleep in a brand new bed in her house by the end of the day.” Tenko wasn’t nervous, he knew those things already, but the man’s tone was relaxing, so Tenko gave him a small smile. That was a new thing too, it made adults happy when he smiled at them.

They pulled up outside of a big brown building, like something Tenko would see in a cartoon, and the man helped Tenko take the step from the car to the sidewalk. As they entered the building, a bunch of adults in suits and dresses smiled down at him, but Tenko kept his eyes straight ahead.

He knew, objectively, he wasn’t as scary anymore. His skin was softer and he hadn’t scratched since he’d arrived at the orphanage weeks ago, but he still had a big cut on his lip from where...

From where his dad hit him in the face with a gardening tool. Midoriya-san has told him the first step to things getting better was to acknowledge them, so he did. Tenko was... well he was just scared, right? And he didn’t know what was happening, but his dad didn’t try to help, his dad just hit him in the face and then he died. Simple as that, right?

= = =

Inko wrung her hands nervously as she sat at one side of the room, the lawyer she’d hired to her right, and an empty table to the other side. When was the guy going to arrive? They had maybe ten minutes until their case was scheduled, does he know how much Inko had had to push to get it scheduled at all?!

Finally, a man walked into the room. Alone, in a clean pressed suit, looking a good twenty years younger than Inko had expected of their opponent. He sat quietly at the table, until the judge walked in.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Satou.” Inko stood, bowed, and when the judge gestured, she plopped back down into her seat. The judge looked down at them through her thin-rimmed glasses, and directed her attention to the man opposite them.

“Where is your client?” So that was the lawyer? Inko sighed and slumped further into her chair.

“My client was unable to attend, due to personal health matters. Permission to approach the stand?” The man said, standing and grabbing a small stack of papers in his hands. The judge nodded and gestured to the floor.

“Granted.” The man stepped forward, handed her the papers, and then returned to his place.

The trial was long and unnecessarily over-complicated. The other lawyer brought Inko to the stand and tried his very best to pick every single fault out of her for over two hours, producing piece of evidence after piece of evidence of actions from her childhood that ‘proved’ she wasn’t fit to be a mother.

He said that her husband was a deadbeat, that she was penniless and dependent, and that Inko herself was riddled with mental health issues that made her ‘unsuitable’ for parenthood. They produced a photo of her using her quirk to hold Izuku when he threatened to roll out of his stroller and accused her of using it to push him out, despite that being literally impossible.

The evidence got shakier and shakier, the accusations more and more outlandish, almost like the lawyer was just grasping at straws, as if he believed his life depended on winning that trial. Finally, with a stern word from the judge and a resigned sigh from the lawyer, she was allowed to step down from the witness stand. Inko took one look at the jury and the pained expressions on their faces, and knew that she would win. She couldn’t help the small, spiteful smile on her face as she made eye contact with the opposing lawyer.

Since the man himself wasn’t present, they weren’t able to call him as a witness, and with that the jury went to make their decision. Less than ten minutes later they emerged, and the judge handed a bawling Inko custody of one Tenko Midoriya.

She met Mitsuki’s eyes in the crowd, shining red with pride and also rimmed with tears, a soft smile on her face as she watched her closest friend break down in the middle of a courtroom.

Her lawyer escorted her out, Mitsuki and Masaru crowding close with three different children in their arms or following behind, and the second they were out of the way the pair handed Izuku to her and then Mitsuki wrapped her in a hug.

“God damn, about f*cken time, right? I swear that guy would’ve gone on for hours if the judge didn’t shut ‘im up!” She said, grinning the entire time, and Inko managed a mocking pout as she covered her son’s ears, making eye contact with Masaru over her shoulder who was doing the same to Katsuki. The trio laughed, and then Inko crouched down to be face to face with Tenko.

“Did you hear that, Tenko? It’s done. Everything’s done, you have a home again!” Inko was exhausted, days of paperwork and arguing and organising weighed her down like a tonne of bricks. She could feel her limbs drooping as she held Izuku close to her chest, the baby not understanding what was happening but grinning from the positive energy anyway.

Then Tenko smiled at her, wide and excited, and Inko knew it had all been worth it.

= = =

Ujiko watched his boss warily as the man pressed his fingertips together, leaning forward over his desk.

”You didn’t win the trial?” He said, and the lawyer before them swallowed nervously.

”Uh, no, sir, but—and I mean this in the most respectful way possible—it’s difficult to win a custody trial when the client has never had contact with the child. Sir.” The lawyer was practically sweating bullets, and Ujiko shook his head from where he sat off to the side. The lawyer was doomed, everyone in the room knew it.

There was no sound. No acknowledgement of the sentence, no trace of the classic supervillain shtick of pretending to understand to lull the victim into a false sense of security. One second the lawyer was standing nervously before the most powerful man in the world, and the next he was a spattering of blood and chunks of viscera on the back wall. The man behind the desk shook his head in feigned disappointment, and turned to look at Ujiko.

”Well, that’s okay. We have plenty ofoptions, do we not?” Ujiko nodded, a gleeful smile spreading across his face as he typed on his computer. Live footage appeared on the monitor in front of them, security camera footage that showed the halls of a house with traditional Japanese decor, where a promising fourth child had recently been born.

The footage switched to a view from outside of the house, catching a seven year old boy with a shock of whitehair as he gazed out of his open window. The camera zoomed closer, and the grainy image of once-white gauze drenched in blood came into view on the boy’s neck and arms. As they watched, a shadowy figure stepped through the doorway to the boy’s bedroom, and he was pulled away by the back of his shirt. Blue light dancedon the wall of the small room, and the man hummed in approval.

Ujiko turned to look at his boss, relieved to see the familiar confident smirk gracing his features. All For One leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of him as he watched the footage.

”Plenty of options indeed.”

Chapter 3: And I was too young to understand it

Chapter Text

Tenko followed Midoriya-san through the mall, drifting off in thought as he looked around the brightly lit building. The judge had referred to him as Tenko Midoriya, and Tenko didn’t really know how to feel about that. Of course, Shimura was his father’s surname, and Tenko was happy to be rid of that, but... But it was also Hana-chan’s last name, and his mom’s last name, and Tenko didn’t want to forget them.

He didn’t deserve to forget what he did to them.

But the Midoriya’s were happy. That was their thing, Midoriya-san was so nice and Izuku was always smiling and talking away in his baby language, and Tenko did want to be a part of that. Even the Bakugou’s, while that woman was a little louder than Tenko was used to, were happy people. And their kid was friends with Izuku.

They were only babies, and Tenko definitely wasn’t a baby anymore, but maybe... maybe he could be friends with them too.

But when Tenko thought about calling Midoriya-san ‘mom’ his stomach felt all queasy and he had to stop walking. That wasn’t who she was. Tenko had a mom, and Tenko hurt her and killed her. He didn’t want—didn’t deserve—a new one.

He trailed gloved fingertips through the faint linings of dust that sat on top of different pieces of furniture as Midoriya-san lead him throughout the shop. They were getting him a bed, she said, and while Tenko was grateful—and he was so grateful, he just didn’t know if he was ready for that. He hadn’t... he didn’t do anything to fix the bad stuff he’s done. And he needed to. He needed to do something, he needed to prove that he deserved it.

Tenko didn’t accept charity, not really. He was only a kid. He couldn’t do much, he knew that, so he was willing, hoping even, that people would help him while he had wandered alleys and tugged on pockets. But now he was fine, and he didn’t want her to touch him because it was only a matter of time before he did something terrible again.

He hadn’t learned anything, that’s what his dad would always say, he needed to learn his lesson and nobody had told Tenko off for anything yet. He didn’t learn anything and that meant it would happen again and again if he didn’t fix himself. Midoriya-san couldn’t be his mom, he didn’t even look like her! She and Izuku both had pretty green eyes and pretty green hair like the forests from fairytales, and Tenko’s eyes were red and evil and his skin was scarred and evil and his hair was ashy and evil and—

“Tenko, hey, it’s alright sweetheart. Come here.” Tenko opened his eyes—and he didn’t remember when he closed them in the first place—as he felt Midoriya-san pick him up off of the floor and hold him to her side, and Tenko panicked. He pushed and he kicked and he was pretty sure he was crying, until he felt his feet hit the floor and he tripped backward.

He tucked his knees against his chest and he hugged himself tightly, weaving his fingers into his hair as harsh, ragged sobs racked his body. But there were still hands on him, people kept touching him and they needed to stop, they needed to stop they had to stop they needed to get away get away get away getaway getawaygETAWAYGETAWAY—

“Don’t TOUCH me!” Tenko’s hand grabbed something and he dug his nails in hard, earning a yelp from an unfamiliar voice. Tenko froze as the images, the memories, oh god he did it again someone’s dead they’re gone and no, no, nobody would forgive him—

Tenko’s eyes snapped open and his gaze zeroed in on the exit, the boy bolting toward it and slamming the door behind him. His chest heaved as he pressed back against the cold brick wall, and slowly he sunk down to sit in front of it. Tenko’s breathing hitched and jumped as tears flowed out of his eyes, his hands screwing into the dirt beneath him.

His gloved hands.

His hands were covered and yet he swore he had felt the flesh crumbling beneath those evil fingertips, swore he’d heard the screams as a person was reduced to bloody chunks on the linoleum floor. Tenko tried to suppress the shudders in his breathing but his efforts only gave him a headache. He clenched his teeth until his jaw ached and buried his hands into the ground until his gloves were caked in mud, but nothing worked. Nothing made him feel better.

Tenko felt sad and sore and overwhelmed, but he didn’t itch. Not once did the scratching beneath his skin coax him into pressing bare hands against something, not once did he pick at the healing scabs on his face. Tenko wasn’t sure if these feelings were any better than that itch, though.

= = =

Inko has no idea what she was doing, that much was painfully obvious. When Tenko broke down in the store she’d been terrified, she had no clue what she was supposed to do. He didn’t want anyone to touch him and she didn’t want to intrude, but he was stressed and hurting and scared and she had to do something, right?

He bolted out of the store and Inko immediately started after him, before she paused for a second. He definitely needed space to calm down, but... Inko should at least be there. She was his mother, after all. She stuck her head out of the exit and saw Tenko sitting against the wall, not any more than two meters away. She could wait here.

Was she supposed to let him calm down for himself? Was she supposed to go to him? How did she know how much was helpful and how much was smothering?

She bit her lip and wrung her wrists, nervous habits she couldn’t help but give in to at times like that, and then took a solid step forward.

“Tenko, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” That was okay, right? But she shouldn’t demand to know, he should have a choice, right? So...

Tenko didn’t respond, and Inko took another step, crouching down in front of him.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me right now. But... I would like to know if I could help. I just want to help you, okay? That’s all I’ll ever try to do.” She rambled slightly, but Tenko looked up at her anyway. His cheeks were damp and his intelligent eyes were hyper-focused on her own, making clean eye contact with her where she crouched before him. Inko shifted to sit on the ground normally, trying her best to be inviting. How does one even look inviting in the first place?

“I don’t... I don’t think I want anyone to touch me,” he said, mumbling like he was sure he’d be punished for it. Inko almost instinctively reached out to him, but pushed down the urge when she realised that was literally the opposite of what he wanted.

“Look, sweetheart, I won’t pretend that other people will understand that. Some people might not respect what you want, because you’re young. But I promise I’ll do my very best to make sure you’re comfortable, okay? I just need you to tell me when something’s wrong.” Tenko met her eyes again, pondering, before giving her a slow nod. She stood, Tenko stood after her, and then the pair walked back into the store.

Inko gave him his personal space, trailing about a metre behind the boy at all times, and tried her best to ignore the stinging in her heart.

= = =

“I don’t look like you,” Tenko said as they loaded boxes of parts out of the car. For any other child from any other background it might’ve just been an observation, but with Tenko there was always another thought trailing after those kinds of things.

“Yeah?” Inko prompted, hefting a rather heavy box up onto her hip, and Tenko climbed up into the car to pick up a picture frame.

“Yeah. I used to have black hair,” he said casually, unoccupied hand tugging on the pale blue strands on his head. It was a seemingly normal thing for a child to point out, something small and random and not all that important, but there was clearly something hanging over Tenko’s thoughts.

“Would you like to have black hair again?” Tenko stopped in his tracks and turned back to face her. His eyes were downcast as he thought, nose scrunched up in an adorably childish rendition of a serious expression, then he shook his head once.

“Not really.” He turned on his heel and dissapeared into the house, picture frame tucked under an arm. He emerged thirty seconds later, returning to the car to grab something else to carry in.

“Do you want to change your hair colour? It would be easy, if you wanted. Since your hair is so light now.” Tenko’s eyes flitted upward as he tried to look at the short strands that hung down on his forehead, and a small frown tugged on his lips.

“Maybe,” he said quietly, and Inko knew the answer would probably be maybe for a while. He’d put a lot of thought into that, there was clearly some other aspect he hadn’t mentioned that was weighing on his mind.

“We’ll talk about it later then, right?” She prompted softly, and he nodded as he climbed back into the car.

“Yeah. Later.” They unpacked in silence after that, Inko carrying the heavier stuff whilst Tenko carried the smaller items into the house and placed them gently on the floor.

Once everything was inside, they began carrying unnassembled furniture into Tenko’s room.

“For now Izuku sleeps in my room, but once he’s older you’ll need to share. Is that okay?” Tenko nodded absently, entirely consumed by the task of carefully picking away at the tape sealing a box. He finally lifted the edge of the tape, and peeled it cleanly away, the lid of the box lifting up as he pulled the strip away.

“Hold on a second, Tenko. We don’t have anything ready yet!” Tenko looked up at her, a slight twinge of confusion to his features, and Inko smiled.

“You should always have a plan before you start something, right? Or else we’ll have to keep dragging the whole bed all around the room once it’s built.” Inko said, the classic steady, teaching tone coming to her easily.

Tenko considered that for a moment, and then rushed out of the room. He returned a few moments later with a sheet of paper and a pencil.

“For planning!” He announced, holding the items over his head, and Inko smiled.

“Where’d you even get those?” Tenko just blinked at her, apparently not willing to reveal his secret paper source, and set the paper down onto the box gently. He picked up the pencil, and drew a box in the middle of the page. It was adorable, watching him draw, because he’d lean all the way forward over the paper and close one eye, the side of his face flat on the table as he inspected his work.

“This is the room,” he explained excitedly, and Inko felt inexplicably warm. This was probably the most she’d ever heard him speak in a row.

“Okay. Now, we need to fit your bed, the bedside table, the dresser, the rug, and the bookshelf. Do you want some help?” Inko knelt down by their little makeshift table, and Tenko bit the end of the pencil as he thought.

“Bed can go here,” he murmured, and drew a blocky little depiction of a bed in the top left corner. Directly next to it he put the bedside table, then drew a circle around the bottom right corner of the bed.

“That’s the rug, kind of under it,” he explained, tracing the circle with the back of the pencil. After a moment of consideration, he erased the part of the circle that overlapped with the bed, and then leaned back to admire his work.

“Very stylish,” Inko commented, and Tenko nodded in agreement.

“Yup! This can be the dresser.” He drew a line along the right side of the room, and then paused. He blinked at the drawing, looked around the room, and stood up. Tenko leaned precariously over the cardboard box, closing just one eye, then just the other, and plopped back down.

He drew a little rectangle where the line was, then looked to Inko seriously.

“‘Cause when you look down on it, it’s kinda like that. I think.” Inko was consistently amazed by just how clever the boy was, and while she wasn’t anything near an expert on child psychology, she was pretty sure the average just-five-year old didn’t have that much of a grip on 3D perspective.

She nodded vigorously, trying her best to encourage the behaviour.

“Yup, that’s called a bird’s eye view. Because if you were a bird in the sky, you’d look down on things like that,” she explained, and Tenko nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, that. Bird’s eye view.” He repeated the phrase back to himself, then nodded resolutely.

“Bookshelf can go here,” he continued after a moment, and drew another rectangle along the bottom wall of the room.

He looked down at the image, once again biting the back of his pencil, and at that very moment Inko heard the beginnings of a choked sob from her room.

“Oh! Izuku’s woken up, just give me a second to put him back to sleep.” She stood and hurried toward her bedroom, where Izuku’s cries were steadily increasing in volume.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay Izu, momma’s here, it’s okay baby.” She cooed as she picked him up, holding him gently in her arms. As soon as she picked him up his cries stopped, and the baby lay quietly against her shoulder.

“Are you going to go back to sleep, honey?” Izuku made a garbled noise against her shoulder, pulling at her shirt with his inarticulate baby hands, he was definitely not tired anymore.

“Hmm, okay. You can come sit with us, alright?” She muttered as she carried Izuku out into the adjacent room, where Tenko was pulling pieces of disassembled bed out of a box. He held up a long wooden rectangle and frowned.

“How’s this s’posed to make a bed?” He questioned, turning the wooden bar this way and that, looking at it from all angles as if a specific line of view would reveal some kind of secret. Inko chuckled and reached forward, gently tugging it from his gloved hands so as to not splinter his exposed fingertips.

In the research she’d done prior to adopting Tenko, Inko had found that approximately 5% of the population had a touch-activated quirk that couldn’t be stopped, and as a result plenty of quirk-specific clothing shops had gloves in all sizes, designs and colours that Tenko could use.

He had ended up with three pairs, two black ones that extended just past his wrist and were essentially fingerless gloves, except for a fully covered pinky and ring finger, and another pair that had the same layout on the fingers but were white, thin, and extended up to Tenko’s elbow. He had said they were his ‘fancy gloves’, and Inko couldn’t possibly have denied him that.

She set Izuku down on the floor and he immediately began crawling around the room, before finally settling near Tenko. He put his hands up on the box and started to slowly pull himself up onto his feet, but he wobbled and fell back on his butt before he got halfway. Tenko let out a little giggle as Izuku sat on the ground and pouted, then he hummed.

“Can Izuku speak?” Tenko asked, looking at the baby curiously.

“Not yet, he’s only just nine months old, after all.” Inko replied, and Izuku made a little noise as if agreeing with the statement.

”When will he start talking?” Tenko pulled another plank of wood from the box, identical to the first, and inspected it once again.

“Supposedly he’ll be about a year old at least, though this little guy is so vocal already I wouldn’t be surprised if it happens sometime soon. He just hasn’t listened in on many conversations since it’s usually just the two of us.” Tenko looked between Inko and Izuku, and Inko knew exactly the question on his mind.

A simple question for a child, a child that couldn’t possibly know the kind of things it could invoke. Inko sat quietly, waited for the inevitable question of ‘where’s his dad?’ Or perhaps ‘Where’s your husband?’ But it never came. Inko looked back at Tenko, who was cooing at Izuku. He still wouldn’t touch, but he would talk.

“Hi, Izuku. Can you speak? Can you say... um, mama?” Tenko questioned, and Izuku clapped at him.

“Mama. C’mon, you can say that.”

“Mmmph,” Izuku said instead, and Tenko laughed.

“Okay.” Tenko turned back to the box and Inko set about putting pieces together, Tenko occasionally stepping in to help. Mostly though, he sat next to Izuku and talked at him, about nothing in particular, and Inko smiled. Only a kid like Tenko could learn that Izuku didn’t hear much conversation, and resolve to fill the gaps himself.

“Look, the bed’s almost done. Can you say bed?” Tenko said again, voice still his normal slightly raspy tone. Tenko didn’t baby-talk Izuku, he talked to him like he’d talk to anyone else, which Inko found interesting.

“C’mon, Izuku. Bed. It’s gonna be my bed, for Tenko. Can you say Tenko?” He talked to Izuku as if the baby was really going to respond, and he never got impatient when Izuku continued to crawl around and make indecipherable noises.

Tenko wouldn’t touch the baby, but he was good at keeping Izuku’s attention, meaning he didn’t get in the way of Inko’s work.

Finally the bed was completed, and Tenko bounced off down the hall to grab the pillow and blankets they’d gotten him. He returned almost entirely hidden behind the pile of bedding, and when Inko took it away from him he was grinning. They fixed up the rest of the room over the course of the day, Inko leaving Tenko to make his bed while she fed Izuku, until finally, at 5pm, they were done in time for dinner.

Inko whipped something up quickly and Tenko practically vaccuumed it down, then she tucked him in to his new bed, where the boy fell asleep before she’d even left the room.

= = =

Tenko had been living with Midoriya-san for about a week, and was sitting on the floor with Izuku as Midoriya-san did work at the dining table. Well, he didn’t know if it was her job, exactly, but she was filling out forms again.

He stacked up some blocks for Izuku to knock down again, then scooted around to face the woman.

“What’re you doing, Midoriya-san?” She huffed a soft laugh at that, setting her pen down to focus her attention on him.

“You don’t need to call me that, Tenko.” Tenko nodded, but he didn’t reword the question. He knew what she wanted, what he was supposed to call her, but...

“And I’m filling out forms for... well, you’ve been through some difficult experiences, haven’t you?” Tenko nodded slowly, and Inko fidgeted in her seat.

“Well, the lawyer suggested, and I agree with him, that you should see a child psychologist. Do you know what that is?” Tenko did not know what that was. Well, he knew what ‘child’ meant, but the other word, psy... no, he didn’t know that one. Midoriya-san pouted slightly as she tried to figure out how to word her explanation.

“It’s like... well, it’s a person that you can talk to, right? And they’ll help you to think about the things that happened, and they’ll help you feel better about being okay.” Tenko nodded slowly at that, then looked back up at Midoriya-san.

“But... I’m supposed to talk to you, right?” Inko nodded at that, waving her hands around.

“Yes, you should! But you don’t always have to, and this person will be there if you want to talk about things, but then you want to leave them there, instead of bringing them home. Get it?” Tenko nodded slowly, and the movement sped up as he thought over it. That would be good, he could talk to someone and not worry about upsetting Midoriya-san.

“Yeah, okay.” Midoriya-san smiled in obvious relief, and then turned to look at Izuku, who was once again trying to pull himself up to stand against the couch.

“You’re so clever, aren’t you?” She cooed at the baby, who fell down onto his butt and slapped the ground with his tiny baby hands. Tenko giggled and slid toward him.

“I bet you can speak. I bet you’re just being sneaky.” Tenko grinned when the baby pouted at him, then turned to Midoriya-san excitedly.

“See! He definitely understands me.” Midoriya-san just chuckled and turned back to the sheets, circling something quietly.

“You know, you’re doing really well, Tenko. I’m incredibly proud of you.” Tenko felt his face heat up and he looked down, folding his hands tightly in his lap. No one had ever, well, nobody had ever said they were proud of him before.

“Thank you, Mm...” Tenko trailed off. Midoriya-san was looking after him, she was technically his... mom, but Tenko didn’t like that word. That had been the last thing he’d said to her, and she, well, even if she wasn’t around anymore, she was still his mom. Tenko didn’t think he could just replace her like that.

“Mama!” A small, warbling voice called out from over at the couch, and Tenko whipped around to face the sound. Izuku was sitting on the floor, grabbing at the couch as he tried to stand.

“Oh gods.” Midoriya-san was out of her seat, and she whisked Izuku off of the ground with a bright smile on her face.

“Did you say mama, Izu?” The baby just giggled and grabbed onto her shirt.

“Mama.” He said again, sounding almost resolute in the pronunciation, and Tenko saw the tears springing to Midoriya-san’s eyes. He smiled from where he was sitting, but made no move to join the pair. It was their moment, after all.

But then two pairs of equally green eyes found him where he sat, and Midoriya-san’s smile widened.

“Oh, I need to tell Mitsuki! I’ll just go get my phone, I’ll be right back, okay Tenko?” She set Izuku gently back onto the floor, and he immediately went barrelling toward the blocks again. Tenko followed, showing Izuku the Kanji on the blocks and sounding them out as he stacked them, and he felt happy.

= = =

It was another week later and Tenko had finally been enrolled in a new preschool, and they had just left the house to drop Tenko off for his first day. He clutched his bag to his chest in the car, legs bouncing in his seat and tugging on the fingers of his gloves nervously. What if one of them knew what had happened to him? What if someone asked about his quirk, or his gloves, or his scars, or—

“We’re here!” Tenko snapped back into reality as the car pulled to a stop, and he saw the droves of other kids filing into the building ahead of them. His hands felt all clammy underneath his gloves, and as he watched, more and more students moved into groups as they walked.

It was barely different to a daycare program, Tenko knew he was only a kid, knew it didn’t really matter, but the fact was that he was weird, and every kid in his class would’ve made friends already, even if Tenko had only missed around a month of school.

He met Midoriya-san’s eyes through the rear-view mirror, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t worry, Tenko. I’ve met your teachers already and they’ve promised to help you feel welcome.” Tenko frowned at that, crossing his arms as he looked out at the crowd. They were all chatting or laughing, walking in twos or threes or big groups, they had friends.

While the idea of being a social outcast wasn’t a pleasant one, the idea of being thrown into a big group like that was equally terrifying.

“I don’t want pity friends.” Tenko said softly, and Midoriya-san tutted.

“They won’t be pity friends, sweetheart! I’m sure there are other quieter kids in the school, if you don’t want to hang around with the louder ones, you can sit with them, right? I’m sure you’ll make friends easily, sweetheart.” Tenko just sunk lower into his seat, but he popped his seatbelt and pulled his bag onto his shoulder all the same. Inko stepped out of the car and opened the door for him, smiling down and ruffling his pale hair.

“Just focus on getting comfortable, okay? We believe in you, don’t we Izu?” She cooed to the baby, still strapped into his special seat, and Izuku reached out to them.

“Ten-ko!” He said, and Tenko froze halfway out of the car. He slipped down into the ground and spun around so that he could look at the baby properly.

“What did you say?!”

“T-Tenko!” Izuku cooed again, and Tenko felt a smile spreading over his face. Izuku knew his name. His second word ever, Tenko had only been with them for a couple of weeks and Izuku already knew him properly. Tenko felt pride in his chest, and numbly wondered if his sister had ever felt proud of him.

“It’ll be alright, ‘cause I’ll always be cheering you on, Tenko!”

Tenko smiled down at Izuku, and then turned to face the school with renewed energy. He was going to be someone Izuku would be proud of, just like Tenko was proud of him. He was going to do his best for Hana-chan, who he hoped was still cheering for him.

He hoped she still loved him, even after what he did to her.

He was going to look after Izuku better than his family did for him. He gave a small smile to Midoriya-san, waved back into the car for Izuku, and then walked toward the school gate, one foot in front of the other.

Chapter 4: I get it now that it’s too late

Chapter Text

Touya was eight years old, but he wished he’d never been born.

He hated his life, hated his family, hated himself. He wanted to cry and scream, bite and kick, he wanted to run far away and never see anyone ever again.

He wished he hadn’t been born, because if he wasn’t born it would mean that his mom never had to marry his father, never had to go through everything she’d been through. If he wasn’t born, maybe Fuyumi wouldn’t have been, maybe Natsuo wouldn’t have existed either. Maybe mom wouldn’t be pregnant with another little experiment, another child to be grown and trained and then thrown away when they didn’t fit Father’s requirements.

Just like Natsuo had been when he was determined to be quirkless a month or so ago. Touya still wasn’t used to seeing his little brother around the house, he hadn’t even known what Natsuo had looked like until his mom had carried the crying child down from the upper level of the house, a fresh bruise swelling on her cheek.

The flaky, burned skin on Touya’s forearm was itchy, and he wanted to pick at it. His mom had told him that it would be painful and that it would start bleeding if he did that, though. She had said it would scar, and that would make his skin look different.

Maybe he wanted that, though.

Touya wrenched a fingernail beneath the thick purple skin and peeled it off, gritting his teeth at the way it pulled at his skin. He saw the pinpricks of blood seeping up from beneath it, and it brought him grim satisfaction. He deserved it, he deserved to hurt.

If he wasn’t so weak, if he tried harder to make his quirk work, Fuyumi and Natsuo would never have been born. None of them would’ve had to suffer any more if Touya was stronger, better, worthy. A crash echoed down the hall loud enough to make Touya jump, and he tore the charred skin a little too quickly. He pressed it back down, wincing at the sting, and pulled his sleeve back down to his wrist just as his little brother stumbled into their bedroom. He was nursing a hand-shaped burn on his shoulder, stubbornly trying to hold back tears.

Wordlessly, Touya beckoned him over and his brother removed the ruined shirt so that Touya could address his wound, gently slathering burn cream on it before covering it with thick gauze. He didn’t want to give Natsuo the opportunity to do what Touya had been doing.

Once the wound was clean, Touya chucked a high-collared shirt at his brother and sat on his bed whilst the grey-eyed child slipped it on. Natsuo wasn’t even three yet, he was just a little two year old and he was already completely silent when he got hurt, he’d learned to creep through the halls like a mouse.

Natsuo was quiet and subdued, but Touya could see the rage that sizzled in his core, a deep hatred that would only lead him to trouble. Touya sighed, he hated seeing his little brother like that. Hated seeing either of his siblings like that. He was the oldest, he had a responsibility.

“Hey, Natsu. Can you go find Yumi? I’ll ask mom if we can go outside.” Natsuo’s expression brightened slightly at that, and the boy nodded firmly before slipping out of the door. He was still silent as he moved down the halls, but for a moment he was happier, and that was the best Touya could do. He hated it.

He didn’t want to make them happy for a minute, he wanted to make sure they could be happy forever. He wanted to save them, by any means necessary.

He would do anything to protect Fuyumi, Natsuo, and whoever the little third sibling would be.

Anything at all.

= = =

Tenko gripped the fabric of Inko’s skirt as they stood outside before his second day of preschool, she could practically sense the nervous energy coming from him.

“Are you okay Tenko? Did something happen yesterday?” Tenko looked up at her, a small frown on his face as he thought.

“No, I just...” he looked out at the front gate again, and one hand reached up to scratch his face, paused mid-air, and dropped back down to his side. “...I don’t think they like me very much,” he confessed, and then it was Inko’s turn to frown.

“Did they say something to you?”

“No, but they...” Tenko cut himself off with a sigh as he hoisted his backpack higher on his shoulder.

“I don’t think they know I can tell, but they stare at me and whisper about me and stuff,” he muttered quietly, and Inko’s vision blurred as those easy tears sprung to her eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I think it’s just because you’re new, if you make a friend then everything should get better, right?” She said softly, and the boy beside her grimaced.

“Maybe.” Tenko started to walk away, and Inko let out a little panicked noise before pulling him back by his backpack. Tenko slowly turned to face her, and she knelt down so that she was closer to his height.

“I’m so proud of you, Tenko. No matter what, I’m always going to be so proud of you.” She was going to start crying, dammit, but Tenko looked puzzled. Worried, almost.

“What if... what if I do something bad?” He asked shakily, and Inko gave him a soft, teary smile.

“Do you want to do bad things?” Tenko immediately shook his head, and Inko felt tears start to roll down her cheeks.

“Exactly, sweetheart. You’re so good, I know that you’ll always try to do the right thing. And that’s why I’ll always be proud of you.” She put her hands on his shoulders, but that was it, holding herself back to try and respect his boundaries.

Tenko had a wobbly smile on his face, and his red eyes were shining as he looked at her. A small body pressed against her, arms wrapped tightly around her and linked at her back as Tenko buried his face in her shoulder.

“Thank you. For, um, for everything,” he whispered softly into her shirt, and Inko was just about ready to give him everything he could ever want.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart.” I love you, she thought, but she didn’t say it. She didn’t think Tenko was ready to hear it just yet.

The little boy pulled away, and with a loud sniff and a wipe of his eyes, he spun and jogged off toward the school, a determination in his steps that made Ink’s soul feel warm.

= = =

Tenko looked around the classroom, a small frown on his face. Midoriya-san had told him to try and make a friend, so that was what he’d do. He didn’t want to try and talk to a big group of people though, so his best option would be to find another kid like him, hopefully.

Except the more he looked around, it seemed that everyone had a little group. That, or they seemed content to sit alone, drawing in the margins of their notebooks and humming to themselves. Tenko didn’t want to annoy them, so he remained in his seat until class started.

His class was relatively uneventful, he payed vague attention and learned how to spell some words, and he got a question correct when the teacher called on him for not paying attention, which gave him a smug sort of satisfaction. He wrote some of the new stuff down in his messy scrawl, but spent most of his time picking at his gloves and staring out of the window.

When the lunch bell rang, Tenko lagged behind for a moment to see if anyone was leaving the classroom alone, but even the quieter kids from earlier were leaving with groups. Tenko sighed and left, giving a stiff nod to his teacher when she looked up at him.

Tenko sat under a tree with his bento that Midoriya-san had packed him, eating quietly and watching the other kids play on the equipment. He didn’t really mind just watching, he thought, his classmates could be interesting. He was learning a lot just from seeing how they interacted.

Like how Aiko-chan poked her tongue out at Hiro-kun when she pushed him off of the swing, but she also went red when he smiled up at her from the ground. Little things like that, Tenko thought they were interesting.

He was nearly finished with his food, so he put the lid back on his bento and leaned against the tree he was sitting underneath.

He looked away from the play equipment for a moment, and that was when he noticed the two girls sitting under another tree and looking at him, whispering to eachother. Tenko just sighed and averted his eyes, but noticed the two pick up their lunches, stand, and start walking toward him.

The girls sat themselves down in his little circle of shade, one smiling and the other looking him over curiously.

“Tenko-kun, yeah?” One of the girls said, and Tenko nodded.

“I’m Sayaka, this is Mahiru!” The dark haired girl exclaimed, gesturing to the nervous girl who was sitting slightly behind her. Tenko almost introduced himself as a reflex, then remembered that they already knew his name, so he stayed quiet.

“You’re new right? Do you have any friends?” Tenko blinked, it was a little blunt, but he shook his head again. The girl—Sayaka-chan—just smiled brightly, flicking her dark bangs out of her face.

“We can be your friends, then! Do you like heroes, Tenko-kun?” Tenko perked up at that and nodded, and the second girl smiled at him.

“We do as well! We always want to play heroes, but the other boys never let us join in. They said girls aren’t strong, so we can’t play heroes because it’s dangerous.” As she spoke, Sayaka-chan nodded continuously, and Mahiru-chan pouted.

“Who’s your favourite hero, Tenko-kun?” Tenko felt incredibly awkward, so he reopened his bento and pulled out a carrot stick and took a bite of it as he thought.

He’d never really picked a ‘favourite’ hero, he thought all heroes were cool because they helped people. Although...

“All Might is cool, I think.” Mahiru-chan nodded excitedly at that, clapping her hands together.

“Yeah, yeah! I think Endeavor is cool too, he’s so strong!” Sayaka-chan whipped around and gave her friend a look, and the girl made a weird kind of gasping noise before hunching her posture a bit. Sayaka-chan turned back to Tenko and, noticing his confused expression, opened her mouth to explain.

“We heard that there’s a boy in second grade who hates Endeavor. Apparently he called him a...” she lowered her voice and leaned toward him, eyes darting around to scope out the area for teachers or tattletails. “...butthole.” Sayaka-chan pulled back and giggled, and Tenko frowned.

“Why does he think that?” Sayaka pouted at the fact that Tenko didn’t find the bad word funny, but then it was Mahiru-chan’s turn to lean forward.

“We don’t know. But there’s probably a reason, right? Maybe he met him and he was really mean.” Sayaka-chan nodded and took a bite from something in her bento, covering her mouth daintily as she chewed.

“So we don’t like Endeavor very much anymore. Just in case.” Tenko nodded at that, and then Sayaka-chan shook her head, as if clearing away the conversation.

“Hey, what’s your quirk? Is it why your face is like that?” Sayaka-chan asked suddenly, and Mahiru-chan slapped her on the shoulder.

“That’s rude to say.” She scolded, and Sayaka-chan pouted.

“I was just asking!” Tenko frowned, a gloved hand coming up to run across the dried skin on his face.

He didn’t think it was that bad, but clearly it was, if people were noticing.

“My... face?”

“Yeah! You know, you’re probably really cute except for your...” Sayaka-chan trailed off as she gestured vaguely to her face, and Mahiru-chan let out a horrified squeak. She started apologising profusely for her friend, but Tenko was too lost in thought to listen properly.

Was that why people whispered about him? Because of his skin? Tenko’s two exposed fingers brushed the scar on his eye and he frowned. He should probably... he should probably try and do something to fix it.

“Fiiine. I’m sorry for being mean to you, Ten-kun.” Sayaka-chan said in a whiny voice, and Tenko noticed that Mahiru-chan had her hand in her friend’s hair. Mahiru-chan made a face, but she dropped her friend’s hair after the apology, and Tenko couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Anyways, do you want to play heroes with us?” Tenko nodded, and Sayaka-chan helped him to his feet before the three ran off.

= = =

Tenko seemed much happier on the car trip home than he had on the way to school, humming quietly to himself and watching trees and buildings pass by the window from his car seat. Inko felt at peace, and hoped that when they got home Tenko would be keen to talk to her about his day as she made him an afternoon snack.

It was amazing, the joy she could get from domestic tasks like that, she just loved to see him happy. The peace she felt was immediately shattered when Tenko met her eyes through the rear view mirror and spoke.

“Can I do to a dermatologist?” He asked innocently, and Inko blinked. That was not a question she expected from a child.

“Um, sure sweetheart. Is there a reason that you’re asking?” Tenko shifted awkwardly at that, and Inko recognised the behaviour of someone who didn’t want to lie, but also didn’t want to get someone in trouble. He seemed to weigh his options as Inko waited quietly, then he sighed.

“A girl at school said that I’m cute except for my face,” he admitted, and Inko just about almost crashed the car when she did a double take. She felt anger boiling in her stomach, but when she looked in the mirror Tenko didn’t seem all that upset.

“She said sorry after, and then we played heroes. I don’t think she meant to be mean.” Inko just sighed as they pulled into the parking below their apartment building.

“Sometimes kids are just a little blunt, Tenko. I think you’re very cute no matter what,” Tenko looked stunned, his gaze shifting in the rear view mirror, and Inko realised he was looking at himself. A hand came up to touch the scar over his lip, and Inko sighed.

“If you really want to go see a dermatologist, we can. But remember that you don’t have to, your skin is doing just fine the way it is.” Tenko raked his nails absently along the skin on his neck, not hard enough to leave any kind of mark with the gloves over his nails, but it made Inko wince all the same.

“I want to,” he assured, and Inko sighed.

“Then we’ll go on the weekend, okay? I’ll need to do a couple of extra shifts through the week to afford it, but Masaru shouldn’t mind picking you up and having you and Izuku over a little longer than usual.” Tenko bit his lip and tucked his hands under his armpits, clearly embarrassed that he was “making her” do more work, so she gave him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Tenko. I don’t mind working a little more.” He nodded, but Inko could tell he didn’t believe it as she parked the car and clicked the child lock off.

Tenko stepped out of the car and shut his own door, waited for Inko to get Izuku out of his car seat, and then the trio went up the stairs to their home.

= = =

At the end of his third day of preschool, Tenko was just about to step past the front gate, keeping an eye out for the car that Midoriya-san had said belonged to the Bakugou’s. A hand grabbed the fabric of the back of his shirt and pulled him back out of view of the cars parked at the front of the building.

Tenko spun around, hands immediately tucked away safely, and came face to face with a trio of boys that looked to be at least third or fourth graders.

“What’s up with your face, nerd?” The tallest one said, jabbing a finger at Tenko’s chest. Tenko stumbles back, eyes darting toward the gate. If he could just move back enough so that the adults could see him—

“Haha, yeah! You look like a troll!” A different one said, and Tenko’s posture faltered. So what if the adults saw him? None of them helped him after his family died, none of them would help him now. Because he was weird and creepy, and the only person who had ever been nice enough to help him wasn’t there anymore, because Midoriya-san was working overtime to afford the doctor’s visit that Tenko asked for.

“Where’d that scar come from?” The third prodded, grabbing Tenko by the strap of his backpack and pulling him out of view of a teacher. Tenko just sighed, keeping his eyes on the ground. His hands came out from behind his back and grabbed his backpack straps, unintentionally revealing his gloves.

“Why’re you wearing gloves, freak?!” Tenko bit his lip. He didn’t need to tell them anything. A hand connected with his shoulder, shoving him so hard that Tenko almost tripped.

“Well? Explain yourself!” One of them demanded, and then they laughed when Tenko remained silent. He didn’t react at all, no pleading, no tears, no fighting back, and something about it unnerved the kids.

“Ugh, this one’s probably brain-dead. f*ck off, dork.” Another hard shove to his shoulder, and then when he looked back up again the kids were already out of the gate.

Tenko looked around, meeting the eyes of several other students, students who had done nothing. He grit his teeth and clenched his hands harder around the straps of his backpack, feeling anger wash over him for the first time since he was adopted.

People were so stupid, they wouldn’t help him because he wasn’t pretty. And he didn’t even care. He didn’t care that they didn’t help him, Tenko had never helped anyone else after all. But what if it had been someone else that those bullies had picked on? Someone who really was innocent, would they have helped them? No, they would‘ve stood around and done nothing, and that fact made Tenko’s blood boil.

Whatever.

He didn’t need their help, and they sure as hell wouldn’t get anything from him. Tenko shook his head and then stepped out of the front gate, seeing the car Midoriya-san had described sitting in the front of the car park. Right in the front, no doubt in full view of where Tenko had been minutes earlier, but the woman sitting inside was looking down at her phone, oblivious.

Tenko walked up and knocked on the car door, jolting the woman back into reality. She clicked a button on her armrest, and Tenko pulled the door to the back of the car open, climbing through it and sitting in the booster seat that had been transferred out of Midoriya-san’s car. The woman tried to meet his eyes through the rear view mirror, but he avoided her gaze.

“How was school, kiddo?” She asked cheerily, red eyes flaming. Tenko grit his teeth again, scratching absently at the dry skin on his neck.

“It was fine.”

= = =

The next morning, Tenko stayed silent when Midoriya-san dropped him off, giving her a quick wave over his shoulder as he walked past the front gates. He half expected one of the kids from the previous day to be waiting for him, but they were nowhere to be found.

That probably just meant they were off bullying some other kid though.

Tenko looked around for a clock, noticing that he was ten minutes early. Midoriya-san must’ve expected him to stall a lot longer than he did. He had ten minutes before he needed to be at his class, and those kids would probably be using those ten minutes to go hurt someone else. Someone who probably didn’t deserve it at all.

Tenko quickened his pace as he entered the courtyard, looking around for shady places that something bad might be happening.

In the end, five minutes before daycare officially started, he found those same three bullies picking on two boys that Tenko recognised from his own class. A bunch of other people were standing around watching, some of them people Tenko recognised too, some of them people that were friends with the two victims, and Tenko’s hands clenched.

Before he even knew what was happening, he had stomped up and put himself between the bullies and the kids.

“Oh look, it’s the little freak again!” They laughed, and the people standing around seemed either excited or worried. Tenko decided not to dignify any of them with a response.

“Leave them alone, they didn’t do anything wrong.” At least, Tenko assumed they hadn’t. Nobody tried to correct him though, and the bullies grinned.

“You want to take their beating then, brat? Sure.” One of the bullies held up his hand, and his palm glowed as a thick red and orange substance oozed out of it. When it dripped between his fingers, it burnt down through the grass. Lava?!

Tenko’s resolve wavered, and he looked back at the two people behind him. Did he really need to save them? Tenko knew that objectively, his quirk was far more dangerous than theirs. But it was their willingness to use it that scared Tenko, not the quirk itself. They seemed ready to hit a kindergartener with a palmful of lava, while Tenko was hesitant to touch inanimate objects even while wearing his gloves.

Suddenly, it clicked in his mind. He knew he would never use his quirk on a person, but they didn’t need to.

“That’s a cool quirk,” he started, holding up his hands and slowly easing the glove off of one of them. As his palm was exposed to the sun and wind, Tenko felt fear make him falter. He’d never had his hands uncovered this long, even in the bath he wore cheap plastic gloves and then washed his hands seperately since liquids were immune to his power. The bullies seemed curious, if not yet scared.

That was okay though, they didn’t know who he was. None of them ever needed to know what his hands were really capable of.

“Want to see mine?” He asked, squatting down and picking up a rock in his covered hand. The head bully rolled his eyes, and Tenko held the rock with two gloves fingers. He reached up with his exposed hand, and then faltered. If he did it, it would be his first time decaying something since the plastic gloves when he first met Midoriya-san.

Tenko didn’t want to be scary, it didn’t matter how angry he was. Threatening to hurt people, or actually hurting someone, would make him no better than...

Tenko dropped the rock back onto the ground, carefully sliding the glove back on.

“Using your quirk is against the law, you know,” he said instead, and the bully grinned.

“What, are you going to tell on me?” He mocked, and Tenko frowned. He tucked his hands back under his armpits, and noticed Mahiru-chan and Sayaka-chan walk into the play area. Class must be about to start.

“No, you haven’t done anything yet. I was just making sure you know.” The bullies scoffed, and the one with the lava quirk stepped forward.

“Even if I did do something, nobody would tell on me. I’m going to be a hero, everyone says so.” Tenko let out a little laugh, and the bully scowled.

“What, freak?!” The older boy prodded, and Tenko took a deep breath.

He was really about to do this.

“I feel bad for the people you end up saving, then,” he said nonchalantly, and the bully stepped closer to him, brandishing his glowing palm threateningly.

“And why’s that?” Tenko clasped his hands behind his back, his red eyes meeting the bully’s murky green ones, and he smiled innocently.

“They’ll have to look at your ugly face.” Everything was deadly quiet as the bully’s face slowly went red with rage, and Tenko remembered with a start that he was trying to protect people, not provoke a fight.

But it was too late, and the bully launched forward, leaking palm outstretched. Tenko dodged, knocking his classmate out of the way in the process, and the bully’s hand slammed into the old wall behind them, melting all the way through the concrete. The wall cracked, but seemed to hold.

Then the bully pulled his hand out.

Tenko watched as the wall seemed to break in half almost in slow motion, saw the top half tilt and start falling down, but he was unable to do anything as it tilted. The bully looked up, saw it, and slipped out from under it just in time to only get hit on the shoulder, but the change in momentum sent it crashing toward one of Tenko’s classmates.

Tenko reached out, knowing in the back of his mind that he couldn’t stop it, and the kid’s hands went up to protect himself as the chunk of concrete fell on top of him. His legs were trapped underneath it, but the crowd was eerily silent. Until the boy started crying.

“Aaah, my ankle hurts!” He cried, as if that was the most pressing issue, and the bullies started to back away. Immediately every person in the crowd swarmed forward, a few each attempting to lift the slab and each being unsuccessful. A teacher was drawn to the crowd and tried to lift it as well, but nobody seemed able to do it.

The kid was wailing about his ankle, the teacher was panicking as she was kept on hold with whoever it was that she had called, and Tenko felt his anxiety spiking. He scratched at his neck with his covered fingertips, and that was when the idea came to him.

“Sensei... I could... should I use my quirk?” Tenko wasn’t thinking about how it might affect him, what the others might think of him afterward, he only knew that he had to help his classmate fast. The longer he was kept under there, the louder he got, and the more pain he was put through because Tenko had provoked a stupid big kid.

“What’s your quirk, honey?” The teacher said haltingly, as if she was scared to hear the answer. This lady wasn’t his teacher, she didn’t know who he was, what he could do. Everyone was looking at him, Tenko couldn’t decide if it was okay or not. He scratched a little harder at his neck as he answered.

“I can... I could turn it to dust. If I touched it with all of my fingers.” The teacher eyed his gloves, then the boy still wailing beneath pieces of concrete. She looked back at her phone and nodded.

“Okay,” she said with a harsh nod, and Tenko slowly peeled a his glove off of his right hand. There was no backing out, he could help. He could save someone. That was all he had ever wanted to do when he was quirkless, and now he had the opportunity. So why was he so scared?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked over to see Mahiru-chan standing behind him, Sakaya-chan at her side. Carefully, he pulled off his glove and held it tight in his other hand. Tenko took a deep breath, looked the kid in the eyes, and then slowly pressed his right hand to the chunk of concrete. It immediately started to decay, and when the opening was wide enough the teacher reached under and pulled the student out from beneath it.

The boy’s wailing got louder as it put pressure on his ankle, but then he settled down as the teacher held him in her arms.

“It’s okay, we’ll go take you to the nurse and call your parents, right?” The boy nodded, and the teacher turned to Tenko.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Tenko,” he said simply, and the teacher nodded.

“Okay Tenko. I’ll need to ask you how this happened later. All of you what to class, please. The bell went ten minutes ago.” The kids all hurried off, Mahiru-chan, Sayaka-chan, and the other boy Tenko had protected waiting for him to put his glove back on. The boy had pale orange hair and blue skin, and was smiling almost giddily at him as Tenko approached.

“That was so cool Ten-kun, you’re like a real hero!” Mahiru-chan said, and Tenko felt uneasiness settle in his heart.

“Thank you,” he said anyway, voice soft, and then the girl took him deliberately by the wrist and dragged him and the other boy behind her to class.

= = =

Needless to say, when Inko got a call from Tenko’s teacher five hours before school actually finished, she was a little worried. Even more worried when the principal told her that her presence was required immediately.

After ten minutes of pleading and promises to her boss she jumped into her car and drove to the school, nearly running three red lights before thinking better of it each time. When she arrived she staggered out of her car and ran to the front office, signing in and following the receptionist’s directions to the principal’s office as fast as she could.

When she burst into the room she found Tenko, a boy his age and a woman who appeared to be his mother, and an older boy, also accompanied by his mother. Inko bowed awkwardly and sat down in the remaining seat, immediately putting a protective arm over the back of Tenko’s chair. The other young kid’s mother gave her a soft smile, and it relaxed Inko’s nerves a little.

“Now, Midoriya-san, I was unable to brief you of the situation over the phone, so I’ll cover it briefly here. Your son provoked a fight that got Makoto-kun injured, and then he used his quirk on school property.” Inko swore she almost had a heart attack as she looked to Tenko, still slouching quietly in his chair with his hands tucked under his armpits.

The other young woman rolled her eyes, turning in her chair to face the principal. She adjusted her glasses on her nose, tapping the heel of her red stilettos on the wooden floor.

“With all due respect Kirigiri-sensei, I wish you’d stop spinning the story that way.” She tapped her heels impatiently on the floor, her pristine posture and crisp work uniform giving her an intimidating aura of leadership.

“Tenko-kun stepped in to prevent Makoto and one other child from being bullied, this kid over here tried to attack him for it, and then when his—“ she jabbed a finger at the older child, expression completely without remorse, “—unlicensed quirk use made a chunk of concrete fall on my son, Tenko-kun rescued him—with a teacher’s permission. The only person at fault is this boy, a fourth grader that should’ve been taught better during his time at this school.” Inko looked to Tenko again and found that his expression hadn’t changed, and she got the feeling that this back and forth had been going on for a while.

“Oh, stop trying to pin all the blame on my son! Tenko provoked him first, I’m sure he was intending to resolve his conflict with Makoto peacefully.” Inko could see the lines of tension between the two women tighten, and the principal cleared his throat again.

“With all due respect, Hinata-san, your son still used his quirk on school property. We are willing to let him off with a warning.” The woman—Hinata-san, apparently—smiled smugly at that, and the woman with the heels groaned.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, and Inko frowned.

“If he’s getting a warning, what is Tenko getting?” She asked quietly, and the principal turned to her.

“Your son did provoke the fight in the first place, and the damage inflicted by his quirk was intentional. I believe a week-long suspension is necessary.” Inko just sat open mouthed in shock, eyes darting between Tenko and the principal. Masaru already volunteered to care for Izuku during the day, and he’s probably readily agree to watch Tenko too so that Inko could go to work, however being suspended from preschool of all things would end in Tenko likely being discriminated against by faculty even more than his adopted status and “functional difficulties” already made him. Inko took a breath to speak up, but the red-heeled woman was more than happy to jump in for her.

“Unbelievable! Tenko-kun used his quirk to save my son, who was trapped under rubble caused by that fourth grader’s carelessness and your faulty non-regulation construction! He should be praised!”

“Now, Fujisaki-san, I understand how you—“

“Oh bull-f*cking-sh*t my son did anything wrong, he—“

“Hinata-san, if we could please refrain from cursing while the children are in the room...” the arguing was going so fast yet somehow progressing nowhere, and when Inko looked to Tenko and saw him staring at his gloved palms, looking absolutely miserable, she straightened in her seat.

“Could I speak, please,” she said sternly, and the room went quiet. Inko thought of it as a small act of mercy, she’d never be able to speak up over a group like the others had been.

“I don’t understand how what Tenko did is worse than what the other boy did. His actions were all taken to protect Makoto-kun, right?” Tenko looked up at her and nodded, and the principal sighed.

“Yes, but it’s about setting an example, Midoriya-san,” the principal said, choosing his words cautiously.

Inko felt herself anticipating it, the stereotype about young mothers or adopted children, and her hands clenched.

“An example to who? All the bullies that’ll think they can just get off with a warning?” Fujisaki-san scoffed, and Hinata-san rolled her eyes.

“No, to Tenko-kun himself,” the principal corrected. Fujisaki-san on her part looked mortified to even be a part of the conversation, a sentiment that Inko could relate to.

“Why would Tenko need to set an example? I’m sure he knows that he wasn’t allowed to use his quirk on school grounds, that’s why he asked the teacher.” Inko pointed out, and the principal shifted.

“Well yes, but... Tenko-kun was recently adopted, right?” Inko felt the room go deadly silent, and Tenko closed in on himself more. Inko felt anger building in the pit of her stomach. It was happening, it was all about to come out and Inko wasn’t sure she could keep herself from snapping if he tried to continue that train of thought.

“Yes, but I don’t see how that’s relevant to—“

“Children that go through adoption are more likely to act out. We need to show him that it won’t be tolerated,” the principal cut in, and Inko felt herself start to go red.

Tenko had been nothing but kind, mature and sweet since he was adopted, and probably up until his incident as well, and these people had the nerve to claim that he was ‘acting out’? That he needed to be ‘taught a lesson’?

“Hold on, so the kid’s already gone through all that, and now you expect to get him suspended for no reason as well? No way.” Fujisaki-san cut in, and Hinata-san laughed.

“The principal is exactly right. The kid was probably trouble at home and his parents didn’t want him, and now this lady’s picked him up. He needs a stricter guardian to show him that—“ Inko stopped listening halfway through, because all she saw was the hurt that flashed on Tenko’s face and the tears that gathered in his eyes.

She put her arms around him and pulled him close, and he didn’t object.

“How dare you assume something like that. You have no idea what Tenko has been through,” Inko hissed, and everyone fell silent again. Embarrassment started to spread across Hinata-san’s face, and Inko felt a morbid satisfaction as she watched.

“And I hope you weren’t implying that I’m a subpar parent, Hinata-san. Because the way I see it, one of our kids saved someone today, and one attempted to attack three different children almost half his age.” Fujisaki-san laughed at that, and Inko turned to the principal.

“And you, suggesting that Tenko will act out! Tenko has been nothing but sweet to me and to everyone he’s met, if he’s done something wrong then it’s because your faculty has influenced him, it has nothing to do with his home life.”

“I agree. This has honestly been a disgusting display.” Fujisaki-san stood up, giving the principal no room to argue as she picked up her son, his ankle wrapped in bandages, and moved to the doorway.

“I expect the school to cover Makoto’s medical expenses, or else I’ll see you in court.” With that, she flicked her dusky hair over her shoulder and walked down the hallway in bold steps. Inko couldn’t help but admire the confidence that seemed to radiate off of the woman.

“I believe I’ll be taking my leave for today as well. Come on, sweetheart.” She stood and held out a hand to Tenko, but when he looked at it nervously she simply extended a pinky instead.

He smiled at her and looped his own little finger through hers, and the pair walked straight out of the office and to the car without looking back.

Chapter 5: I never stopped feeling guilty

Chapter Text

“Nii-chan, we need to go!“ Tenko heard his little brother call from the entryway.

They were going to see a quirk doctor, because Izuku was about to start preschool, but had yet to show signs of getting a quirk. When Izuku had started to worry, Tenko had reminded him that his quirk had manifested at five years old, so the boy was as bright and happy as always, excited by the prospect of possibly finding out what his quirk could be.

Tenko knew that Inko could float things toward her, and that Izuku’s dad could breathe fire, so the brothers had been thinking of something along the lines of pyrokinesis, and how Izuku could be a hero like All Might with that quirk. Inko seemed distressed, though, she kept looking at Izuku through the rear view mirror, tapping her fingers nervously on the steering wheel. Izuku didn’t notice, but Tenko did.

Kids were supposed to manifest their quirk by the age of four, a lot of Tenko’s friends had gotten theirs at two or three, Izuku’s friend Katsuki had gotten his a couple of months before his fourth birthday. Tenko was an outlier, he wouldn’t be included in the data.

Izuku was probably quirkless.

Tenko turned to his brother, trying to think of something to say that could lower his expectations just a little, but then the car stopped.

“We’re here!” Inko said with false cheer in her voice, and Izuku was practically bouncing in his booster seat. Tenko climbed out over his brother, ruffling his green curls and sticking his tongue out when Izuku pouted. Inko let Izuku out and lifted him onto the floor, and then the three of them walked toward the front of the building.

“We have an appointment with doctor Tsubasa?” Inko nervously said to the receptionist, and the woman nodded as she typed away on her keyboard.

“Right this way, Midoriya-san.” The woman lead them toward a white door with “Dr. Tsubasa” in neatly typed characters on the nameplate. She opened the door and directed the trio into the clean hospital room, where Izuku hopped excitedly onto the little bench.

“The doctor will be with you shortly,” she said sweetly, giving one last smile to Izuku before she shut the door.

“Nii-chan, do you think my quirk is gonna be cool like Kacchan’s?” The five year old said, and Tenko smiled at his brother. He opened his mouth to respond when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Inko, biting her lip and wringing her hands. Tenko frowned at the sight, before hopping up to sit next to Izuku.

“I think that it doesn’t matter. ‘Cause I think if your quirk is cool like Katsuki’s, or if it isn’t, you’re still gonna be a hero. You’re brave and kind and clever, even if you don’t get a quirk at all,” he spoke carefully, maintaining eye contact with Inko, and saw the woman give him a grateful look. Izuku smiled brightly at him, swinging his feet off of the edge of the bench.

“Thank you, nii-chan!” The door opened quietly, revealing a rather squat man with thick green-lensed glasses and a thicker moustache, holding a clipboard in his hands.

“Midoriya Izuku?” He said, and Inko stood up. “Yes, my son turned five recently but he hasn’t gotten his quirk, so we wanted to come in and see if you could find anything about that.”

“Of course, Midoriya-san. If you follow me through here, we can take an X-ray to find out.” Tenko furrowed his eyebrows at the statement. His family had taken him to the very same doctor when he was four, and his X-ray had said he was quirkless. Clearly it was wrong, because he definitely had a quirk. Maybe he should tell that to the doctor.

“Um, sir?” Tenko said quietly, and the doctor turned to look at him, light glinting off of his glasses. They soon resumed there opaque appearance, but the brief moment of visibility had shown an almost excited gleam in his eye.

“Ah, Tenko. Fancy seeing you here,” he said monotonously, and Tenko tugged on the fingers of his gloves as he responded.

“I was just... well, when I got my x-ray done I had the extra toe joint and you said I was quirkless, but...” Tenko trailed off, and the doctor nodded.

“I heard about what happened to your family. Certainly a shame. Clearly our tests aren’t one-hundred percent accurate, but you’re the only outlier I’ve ever seen. Now, Izuku, if you could follow me through here for a moment...” he trailed off as he left the room, and Tenko gave Izuku a small wave before the boy followed.

Inko seemed shocked, probably at how emotionless the man had been about Tenko’s past, but Tenko didn’t really care. It was definitely a nice change from the sympathetic looks and the stories from people that could totally relate.

Ten minutes later, Izuku emerged, parroting to them that the doctor would be out in a minute once the X-ray was done. They sat together on the bench, and Tenko half listened to Izuku talk about how weird it was to get a foot X-ray as he played with his action figure.

As Izuku talked, the only thing Tenko could think about was how the doctor had better be more empathetic than he was to Tenko a few minutes prior. The doctor emerged, papers in hand and eyes concealed by green lenses, and sat down opposite them.

“What do you think, Doctor? You know, Izuku wants to be a hero like All Might when he grows up.” Inko said nervously, and the doctor shifted slightly to face Izuku. He was swinging his legs, clutching his All Might figurine like he always seemed to be doing, an excited smile on his face. The doctor took all of that in, and directed his posture completely to Izuku as he spoke.

“You should probably give it up.” Izuku froze, his action figure clattering to the floor, and even Tenko recoiled at the blunt delivery. He knew kids could be dense sometimes, there were plenty of completely clueless people in his class and he was nearly twice Izuku’s age, but surely the doctor didn’t need to be that direct?

“So there’s something wrong with him? I know most of the other kids his age have manifested their quirks already, but...” Tenko reached over to try and take Izuku’s hand, but the boy was unresponsive.

“Excuse me, but you’re fourth generation, right ma’am? May I ask about your quirk?” The doctor pushed forward, and Inko stammered for a moment before nodding.

“Yes, of course. I can pull small objects towards me, and my husband can breathe fire.” The doctor started talking again after that, something about toe joints and evolution, but Tenko was distracted with looking at his brother.

Tenko’s eyes drifted up to the X-ray on the board beside them that looked exactly how his had all those years ago, and he shuffled closer to Izuku. Inko passed the All Might action figure to him, and Tenko deposited it gently into Izuku’s lap.

“You can see by looking at this X-ray that Izuku has two joints. It’s unusual to see that these days, but that means that he has no quirk,” Doctor Tsubasa finished, and Inko gave a slow nod. The three of them were rushed out of the office pretty quickly, and Inko did one last check in at the receptionist desk before they could leave. Tenko bent down to try and look Izuku in the eye, but the boy was staring at his action figure with a wistful expression on his face.

The car trip home was silent in its grief, and when they got home, Izuku shut himself in his and Tenko’s shared bedroom. Neither Tenko nor Inko thought it would be wise to disturb him quite yet, so Tenko played a hero fighting game while he tried to think of the best words to comfort his brother with.

An hour or so later, Izuku emerged from the room with the figuring still clutched in his tiny fist, and quietly asked Tenko to help him put on the All Might video he liked. Tenko lead him to the computer, but instead of putting on the video, he climbed up to sit on the desk in front of the boy with the mop of forest-green hair.

“Izuku. You know I think you’re super cool, right?” Tenko started, and Izuku’s mouth wobbled as he nodded. “I don’t think it matters if you get a quirk or not. I still think you’re a heroic person like All Might, because you help people when they need it, and that’s what good heroes do.”

“But... but how do I fight villains if I don’t have a strong quirk like Kacchan?” Izuku sniffed, and Tenko couldn’t help but wince at the reference to the explosive boy. Then, he frowned for a moment as he thought of the best way to answer.

“Do you think I could be a hero?” Izuku’s eyes immediately lit up.

“Yes! Nii-chan is strong and clever, and he helps people!” Tenko smiled at the praise, and then held his gloved hands up so that Izuku would focus on them.

“Well, your nii-chan can’t fight villains either, you know. If I use my quirk on them, it’ll hurt a lot, and even villains are still people.” Izuku seemed to fundamentally disagree with that, because he retaliated immediately.

“Kacchan’s quirk hurts, but he uses it on people.” Tenko narrowed his eyes, and made a mental note to find out just how Izuku could know that Katsuki’s quirk hurt. He had a feeling it would end in a few four year olds getting their toys turned to dust.

“Heroes should never hurt people when they don’t need to. Not ever. If Katsuki uses his quirk on people, that doesn’t make him a hero, it makes him a bully.” Izuku seemed to consider that for a moment, and shook his head.

“He’s so strong, though. Like All Might! And he fights mean third graders who try to pick on us.” Tenko made the decision to teach Izuku’s friends about the values of words. Or maybe just Izuku, the rest of them didn’t seem to need another weapon in their arsenals, since they apparently used them to hurt people who didn’t deserve it.

“You remember the bully I told you about?” Tenko started, and Izuku nodded enthusiastically. At least he wasn’t crying anymore, even if the conversation hadn’t gone the way Tenko had planned it.

“The one that tried to fight you and made Makoto have to walk weird?” Tenko winced as his friend’s permanent limp was brought to mind, but he nodded.

“Yeah. He used his quirk on people too, you know what happened to him?” Izuku was swinging his legs again as he looked up at Tenko.

“What?”

“Makoto’s mom sued the school, and he got expelled. Because even though he said he was going to be a hero, real heroes don’t let people get hurt. And they definitely don’t hurt people themselves.” Izuku remained silent at that, and Tenko dropped his hands.

“Anyway, the point is that I can’t use my quirk against people, which means I’m basically quirkless in a fight. So if you think that I could be a hero like All Might even if my quirk doesn’t help, then you have just as much of a chance as I do, got it?” Tenko knocked his foot against Izuku’s shoulder for effect, and the boy looked up at him with green irises that were practically glowing.

“Do you think we can be heroes together, when we’re older?” The flashbacks hit Tenko hard, memories of a picture pushed into small, powerless hands, of his sister’s bright smile as she promised to always cheer him on, of the way she ran away from him as he called to her to help. He closed his eyes tight and nodded once, forcefully derailing that train of thought.

“Of course, Izuku.”

= = =

Shouto’s quirk had manifested a few weeks before his fourth birthday, and it had been the worst moment of Touya’s life. They had been so close, he was almost quirkless, but then one day he sneezed and fire burst out of one of his tiny little palms, whilst the other froze over.

Touya would die before he let his father find out about it.

Because Shouto was perfect. An exact split down the middle, wielding ice with his left and fire with his right, and Touya was terrified for his little brother. Normal kids Touya’s age would be worried about their second year of middle school that was less than a week away, how to make friends or become popular or whatever, but Touya couldn’t care less. Because he knew how much he had suffered—still suffered—at his father’s hands, and he would rather die than see the same happen to Shouto.

Touya had his yearly doctor’s visit that day, where he’d go and sit next to his fuming father as Doctor Tsubasa said the exact same thing he said every year: Touya’s quirk condition would never improve. Father never believed it though, and every trip would end in Touya getting dragged home and beaten—sorry, trained—until Fuyumi and Natsuo would have to carry his limp body back down to his room.

This time was different though. For the first time, Touya’s mother would be taking him. For the first time, Touya was actually scared to go.

Sure, the beatings were harsh, but Touya got used to that. What he wasn’t used to, refused to get used to, would be hearing Shouto go through the same thing. And if Touya left the kid’s side for even a second, Father might come in and see him using his quirk.

Shouto understood the dangers of his power well enough, even at just barely four years old, but he didn’t have control. Any sneeze, cough, or startle was enough to make his quirk flare, and Touya being around was the only way to stop Father from seeing it. Father hated to look at Touya, at his first and greatest failure, so if Touya was in the room with Shouto, Father wouldn’t be. Mother knew about Shouto’s quirk, but they hadn’t even told Natsuo or Fuyumi. Both of them were too young to hold that kind of burden. Mother insisted that Touya was too, but Touya disagreed. He was a teenager now, he could take responsibility for his family.

“Touya. It’s time for you to go,” that deep voice boomed from down the hallway, and Touya felt his body go into fight or flight mode immediately. Quickly he stood and looked around for his brother, he couldn’t leave Shouto sitting alone.

“Natsu!” He called, and the soft patter of footsteps signalled his closest brother running toward him.

“Yeah?” He was smiling, but it quickly dropped when he saw Touya’s distraught expression.

“I need you to watch Shouto. And I’m begging you, whatever you do, keep dad away from him,” Touya tried to warn subtly, but it was no use. Natsuo’s eyes darted to their youngest sibling, and widened.

“His quirk..?” He asked quietly, and Touya nodded. Natsuo seemed to think for a moment, and then he nodded fiercely. “I’ll protect him.” Touya just smiled at his brother, clapping him on the shoulder as he ran out to follow his mother to the car.

For the first time since his quirk had manifested, he prayed that things would go right for him.

= = =

“Kacchan, wait! Auntie said we have to stay with Tenko!” Tenko sighed as he watched his brother run after his friend, turning back to make sure Makoto was keeping up with he and Mahiru well enough. His friends were both doing fine, and watching his brother was his priority, so he caught Makoto’s eye, gave an awkward nod in the direction the preschoolers had gone, and chased after them.

He made it to the playground without a single sign of them, and then skidded to a stop on the damp March grass just as Katsuki punched his brother in the stomach.

“Oi, what the hell!?” He yelled, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he stomped toward the boys. Katsuki’s lackeys backed away in the face of an almost-fourth-grader, but Katsuki’s smirk widened.

“What’re you gonna do about it, quirkless freak?” He said, and Tenko blinked. Izuku also blinked where he was sitting on the ground in front of a purple-haired boy, who looked torn between staying to see what would happen and high-tailing it out of there. He saw Izuku mutter the word quirkless confusedly under his breath, and Tenko shot him a look.

Honestly, he would prefer Katsuki thinking he was quirkless than knowing the truth, who knew what he’d do with that information.

Katsuki’s lackeys started to recover their grins, though they remained behind Katsuki.

“Quirkless? Aw man, he’s the same as Deku!” Tenko blinked at the name Deku, and then he suddenly realised why Inko had been so insistent that he’d accompany Izuku this time.

The bruises on his arms and face weren’t from falling over like he’d said they were.

Tenko could feel the rage building in his veins, making the tendons in his hands twitch to reach out and grab something, satisfy the itch that was bubbling beneath the skin of his palms, but instead he took a breath. He clenched his hands into fists, unclenched them, and then tucked them under his armpits.

“You could totally beat him up, Kacchan!” Tenko’s anger was immediately washed out by sadness as he saw Katsuki grinning and grinding his fist into his palm. Did they really think violence was the best option? Or even an option at all?

Tenko knew that regardless of their age, he’d need a plan to deal with them. He remembered Inko telling him that once, that it was always good to have a plan. Izuku stood and helped the purple haired boy to his feet, and Tenko gave him a look that told him to run. Izuku just shook his head and set his feet in the sand.

Fine, he’d just have to do this well, then.

“You know, you’re pretty amazing,” Tenko directed at the lackey with the spindly fingers, and he blinked. Katsuki just narrowed his eyes, he knew what was coming.

“What?” Izuku’s expression twisted into worry. He’d heard the stories, the last time Tenko provoked a bully, Makoto ended up with a permanent limp.

“Yeah. I mean, your forehead is massive, but you don’t even have enough brain matter behind it to form a single original thought. Really amazing, you know?” The winged kid furrowed his eyebrows in thought, Katsuki scowled, but the kid just blinked. Tenko didn’t think the kid knew what half of those words meant, but that was okay, that was the point. When Katsuki looked at his friend—follower, whatever, and saw that he had no clue what was happening, and then looked back to Tenko watching him with one eyebrow raised, he got the message.Your followers are all idiots remained unsaid, but Katsuki came to that conclusion anyway and snarled.

”Shut up. Your parents didn’t want you.” Ah, Tenko’s favourite insult. He pushed his expression into a smile and dropped his hands to his sides.

He opened his mouth to retaliate, but then Mahiru poked her head around the fence with a disbelieving expression.

“Seriously?” Mahiru sighed, turning and saying something to Makoto before the pair jogged over. The lackeys looked scared now that Tenko’s backup had arrived, but Tenko didn’t actually want to hurt the kids. He watched Makoto look over each of them, eyes pale purple, then dark red, then pale purple again, and then he turned back to face the kids.

“You two should f*ck off. You’re scared and you aren’t gonna win this.” They looked at eachother nervously, and Katsuki frowned.

“If you leave, we aren’t friends anymore,” he said without turning back, and the two wavered for a moment, but remained in place. Tenko looked at them harshly, and then held Katsuki’s gaze as he held his hand out to Makoto. The boy looked at him for a moment, and then handed over his phone.

Makoto’s mom was really rich, so he was one of the only people in their grade to have a phone, and he was generous enough to offer it anytime someone needed to make a call or take a photo.

Tenko grinned down at Katsuki, and then he did both of those things. Katsuki and his lackeys blinked against the flash of the camera, and then Izuku realised what was happening and sighed.

“Nii-chan, don’t—“

“I’m telling Auntie Mitsuki,” Tenko cut in, flashing his biggest sh*t-eating grin to the three kids in front of him. Katsuki gulped, and his hands shook as he held up his fists.

“I’ll beat you up,” he threatened, and Tenko shrugged.

“Okay. You’ll just get in more trouble.” Mahiru snickered as the phone started ringing and Katsuki’s rage multiplied as he dashed forward to make a grab for the device. Tenko stepped aside, using his free hand to push Katsuki away in mid air and send him skidding across the sand. Mitsuki picked up the phone, and Tenko looked directly at Katsuki as he spoke.

“Katsuki is beating people up again.” Katsuki went still, and Tenko heard Mitsuki sigh on the other end of the line.

“Sorry you had to deal with that, Tenko. Bring him back home if you can, please,” the line went dead, and Tenko handed the phone back to Makoto before he moved over to check on the bruise swelling on Izuku’s pudgy baby cheekbone.

“We’re all going home now.” He said curtly, and nobody argued.

= = =

Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel happy when the doctor started telling him about support items that could help his quirk. He went on about Hero costumes and cooling systems, but all Touya could think of was Shouto, in a house with a man that wanted to hurt him and only a seven year old trying to prevent that. But Natsuo was dedicated and angry, he would do his best to keep Father out of the room.

Then, part way through the doctor’s explanation, Mother’s phone rang. The doctor paused, and Touya’s mom gave a rushed, frantic apology as she pulled her phone from her purse. The contact on the screen said “Enji”, and Mother shot a look to Touya before she answered it.

“Hello,” she started, but it was immediately drowned out by the noise from the other end of the line. Father was yelling, someone else was screaming, and Touya could barely make any of it out. Nevertheless, he heard the words “quirk” and “perfect” and “hiding this from me” and knew that it was over.

The light glinted off of the doctor’s glasses as he took in the pure despair written over Touya’s face. He could feel tears threatening to well up in his eyes as his Mother gave the doctor an apologetic smile and left the room to continue the call.

The doctor studied Touya for a moment longer, and then his gaze drifted away. Nonchalant, non-threatening.

“Everything okay at home?” There was no concern in his tone, and Touya frowned.

“Yea—“

“You know, it’s actually proven that heroes tend to make bad parents. They’re often neglectful, narcissistic, or downright abusive. If there’s something going on, I could help.” Touya pulled himself together just enough to cross his arms and sneer, unaware of just how perfectly childish the gesture was.

“How could you do anything?” He spat, and the doctor chuckled.

“I’m a medical professional, Touya. People trust me when I tell them things.” It was cryptic yet innocent in theory, a doctor offering to speak out against a man who could overpower and crush most people who attempt to make accusations against him. But the man looked down as he spoke, and the angle allowed Touya to see his eyes gleaming with a cruel excitement that chilled him to the bone.

“Oh... okay,” was all he managed to choke out, and then his mother returned. The rest of the visit wrapped up quickly, and on the way home Mother explained that Father had promised not to start training Shouto until he was five. That Shouto had less than a year of a childhood left before he would live and breathe that training room tarmac.

Touya was rigid for the entire trip home, and when they opened the door, Father was standing before them.

“Did either of you know anything about this?” Touya remained silent, but Mother put her arm over Touya and began her anxious excuse that neither of them spent all that much time with Shouto, that they had no idea he had a quirk and maybe he had just been a late bloomer. Father just nodded, but he was clearly itching for something to do after being denied the ability to train his perfect creation, so his eyes fell on Touya.

“What did the doctor say about him?” Mother’s grip tightened on his shoulders, and her voice rose an octave when she spoke again.

“Nothing. The same as last year, it’ll never improve.” Father snarled and reached forward, grabbing Touya by the arm. His Mother’s hands went rigid on his shoulders, trying to hold him back, but after a look from his father they fell away immediately.

“We’ll see about that.” As Touya let himself be dragged away, he passed the living room. Shouto was nowhere to be seen, but Natsuo was curled up in Fuyumi’s arms, sobbing into her shoulder on the floor. Dimly, Touya thought that maybe his mother was right.

It’d never get better.

= = =

“Katsuki.” Tenko said, and the boy didn’t look up from where he was kicking pebbles along the pavement.

“What.” Tenko stopped in his tracks, and after a moment Katsuki stopped too, turning to face him. As much as Tenko hated the boy for how he hurt Izuku, he also knew a few things.

One, Katsuki would never get better under Mitsuki’s roof. She was a loud, violent person, and letting Katsuki learn from that and that only would only lead to trouble.

Two, the two of them weren’t that different. They both had dangerous quirks and they both clearly felt the urge to use them. Tenko could relate, he could help Katsuki learn to suppress it.

And three, Tenko knew what it meant to go too far. He knew how it would end up, and he knew that no matter the Bakugou family’s flaws, they didn’t deserve what happened to his family. Katsuki shouldn’t ever get to the level Tenko reached at his age.

“You know I’m not quirkless, right?” Katsuki blinked, indicating that no, he had not known that. Well. Tenko bent down and picked up one of the pebbles in a gloved hand as he tugged the glove off of the other with his teeth. Slowly, carefully, he took a deep breath and pressed all five fingertips to it, and Katsuki was suddenly a lot more interested as it crumbled into a pile of dust in his palm.

Tenko shook it off onto the ground and hastily pulled his glove back on, contorting his fingers to make sure all five never touched it without even looking, the motion was so familiar.

“You can probably guess how dangerous my quirk could be if I used it against someone, which is why I don’t. As a person with a dangerous quirk, I’m responsible for making sure I don’t harm the people around me.” Katsuki sensed where the conversation was going and rolled his eyes.

“You want to be a hero, don’t you?” The blond nodded, and Tenko sighed. “Not gonna lie, Katsuki, you’re doing a terrible job at it.” Katsuki’s red eyes flashed with anger, and Tenko kept his expression calm. It was like trying to defuse a bomb, in a way.

He was trying to thread a needle on a time limit with his bare hands, it required focus and precision and he needed to get through the thick layer of defences that Katsuki had put up.

“Nuh uh. I’m going to be the best hero, because my quirk is strong and I can use it to kill bad guys.” Tenko winced at the phrasing, his hands twitching.

“Do you want to kill people?” Tenko asked as he tucked his hands under his armpits, and Katsuki watched the movement with newfound interest. Smart kid.

“Only villains,” he reiterated, and Tenko knelt down a little. Partially because his neck hurt from looking down at four year olds all day, partially because he knew it would make Katsuki angry to be reminded of how small he is. He needed a bit of a wake up call, though.

“What makesyou the boss of deciding who’s a villain and who isn’t?”

“People who hurt civilians or break the law or whatever are villains.” Tenko was honestly amazed at the level of self importance the kid seemed to have, saying those things and then turning around and claiming to want to be the best person in the country.

“Well, you hurt two civilians earlier today, and you broke the law. Does that mean I’m allowed to kill you?”

“I’m just a kid,” Katsuki defended, and Tenko raised an eyebrow.

“So am I. So is Izuku, and you’re nothing but mean to him for no reason,” a bit of spite was leaking into his tone, but he let it happen. Izuku definitely deserved a thousand times better friends than he had. Maybe he’d let Izuku spend time with his friends once he started grade school.

“He’s quirkless and stupid and he thinks he’s better than me, he deserves it.” Tenko wasn’t expecting the second part of that statement, and decided to focus on the first part first. He could circle back later.

“Twenty percent of the population is quirkless. Are you going to bully and hurt twenty percent of all people in Japan?”

“Uh, well...”

“Because that’s more people than any villain has ever hurt. Picking on quirkless people makes you worse than a villain, Katsuki. And hurting people makes you one too. Why don’t you just become a villain, huh?” Tenko prodded, and Katsuki scowled as his palms lit up with tiny explosions.

“I don’t want to be a villain, villains are evil.”

“I dunno Katsuki, you were acting pretty evil today.”

“I’m not a f*cking villain!” He yelled, and Tenko threw his arms up.

“Well you certainly aren’t a hero!” He snapped, and then sighed as he brought his volume down. “Heroes are supposed to help people.” Emphasis on “supposed to”, Tenko thought, but kept that part to himself. Katsuki didn’t need to hear about his personal biases.

The blond was quiet for once, looking down at his hands in a way that reminded Tenko so much of himself that it almost hurt. He reached out tentatively and put a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“You know that Izuku thinks that you’re amazing, right? He wants to be just like you.” Katsuki looked up at him, confused and defeated.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s true! When Izuku found out he was quirkless, sure he watched an All Might video, but when he talked to me about it he didn’t ask if he could still be a hero like All Might, he wanted to be a hero like you.” Katsuki eyed him warily, clearly confused by the sudden change in direction. Tenko was expecting him to puff up his chest and return to his usual overconfident shtick, but he didn’t.

“You just said I’m not a hero,” he sulked, and Tenko shook his head as he responded.

“You aren’t. But Izuku believes that you can be, and he’s a great judge of character. He’s great at a lot of things, you should try looking at him the way he looks at you for once. You could learn a lot from him, just like he’s learned a lot from you.”

“Tch, whatever. Deku isn’t better than me.” Katsuki scowled again and then spun around, stomping down to the end of the street to his house. Tenko watched him the whole way, just in case, and then turned around to go back inside.

= = =

Touya looked at the bags under his eyes and the scarring on his neck, and he sighed. He looked even creepier than he had before Shouto’s birthday.

Then again, he hadn’t exactly been sleeping well since then either.

Shouto had spent a week out with them, under the care of Fuyumi for the most part, tending to his burn and pretending that they weren’t missing their mother.

The caretaker was fine, sure, an objectively sweet lady, but it was hard to appreciate the person caring for you when a pay raise was enough to keep them quiet about all the terrible things they saw. So Fuyumi liked to keep Shouto away from her, and Touya couldn’t help but agree with her, even if logically it was the worse thing to do.

“Natsu. Do you want to go outside?” Touya called, and a distant agreement echoed back to him. Touya left the bathroom to move briskly down the hallway, but it didn’t stop him from completely freezing in his tracks when he turned the corner and ended up face to face (or face to stomach, really) with his father.

“Touya, it’s time for your appointment.” Touya didn’t even have time to figure out what he meant before he was being dragged down the hallway. His father left the house, keeping a keen eye out for paparazzi as always while Touya put on his shoes, and then the pair got into a car and drove silently to where Touya assumed was Doctor Tsubasa’s office.

He was proven right later when the car pulled up, and Touya was hustled quickly and unceremoniously into the hospital. Father didn’t even need to check in with the receptionist, she simply saw the two of them coming and waved them through. A few people recognised them and tried to start conversation, but Touya and his father were both silent and stone-faced the whole way through.

“Todoroki-san. Pleasure to have you here today. I understand it was your wife that brought Touya in last year.” Father grunted, and the doctor nodded.

“Now Touya, I’m sure you remember that last year—“ Touya’s eyes went wide and locked onto the doctor’s green lenses, begging him not to continue. “—I told you that your quirk condition could never improve.” To Touya’s relief, the doctor picked up on his distress and continued as if he’d planned to say that all along.

“Fortunately, with recent developments, I believe I could help you! We’ve got a new treatment designed to help people with fire or ice quirks adapt to higher or lower temperatures through a series of regular injections, so if you follow me through here I could give you the first one today.” There was a gleam in Father’s eye as he all but shoved Touya off of the bench to follow the doctor.

Touya had mixed feelings. On one hand, he didn’t think he wanted to be a hero after everything his father had put him through. Having his quirk improve would mean more training, and he’d only just started to be free of that after... After Shouto started getting trained instead.

Touya almost smacked himself for how selfish he was being. If he got his father to train him, it would mean Shouto spent less time taking hits and throwing up his guts. It would mean he’d need to be supervised, so then Fuyumi could see him more often. Natsuo could spend time with Shouto too, he wouldn’t need to be alone, so they would all benefit.

If Touya got trained, he could help his siblings, and he would do anything to lighten the load they were forced to bear. By the time Touya and the doctor arrived at whatever room he wanted them in, Touya had made up his mind.

When the doctor asked him to sit down and wrapped a thick band around his bicep, Touya cooperated far more than he usually would.

The doctor picked up a small, opaque needle and looked at Touya with a blank expression.

“This might sting for a moment.” He cleaned off the area over the veins in Touya’s arm and then pressed the needle into it. He pushed down on the plunger and pulled the needle out, pressing a cotton ball over the tiny hole.

“Hold that there.” Touya took over holding down the cotton ball while the doctor bustled around, and he felt warm. Touya knew he ran cold from his quirk, he didn’t wear a coat in the winter and he suffered in the summer, yet there was always an underlying feeling of cold in his bones. It felt like that had been stripped away, that they had stolen the cold from his body and pumped him full of warmth, he felt like he might catch on fire. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and the doctor looked over at him.

“Don’t worry, Touya. It feels a bit strange now, but you’ll get used to the warmth.” Touya just nodded, following the doctor back out quietly.

“He’ll be a bit unstable with the new temperature, I’d suggest being careful with his quirk.” Touya froze in place as a familiar chill ran down his spine. His father nodded and turned to leave, and Touya hoped that today wouldn’t be the day that he started listening to medical professionals.

When they arrived home, Touya had his arm held slightly away from his body so that his father could grab it without hitting him, but instead the man opened the door and closed it behind him while Touya was still waiting at the car.

Cautiously, he moved to open the front door himself, and found it locked. He was sweating from the amount of heat that he was producing, so he knocked sharply on the door, hoping that one of his siblings would let him in. Minutes later Fuyumi opened the door carefully, concern filling her eyes as she looked back down the hall.

“Father took Shouto to train again.” The heat in Touya’s body spiked in his palms, and Fuyumi jumped back.

“Careful, Touya,” she hissed, stepping forward and taking one of his hands in hers to inspect his palms. Touya was too warm though, being close to her felt stuffy, everything was way too close and constricting and he needed out.

His panic was interrupted when he heard Shouto scream from the training room. His palms burst into flames again, and Fuyumi fell back onto the floor.

“Touya!” She shouted indignantly, clutching her hands to her chest, but Touya barely registered it over the pain. His arms were blazing, the flames steadily climbing up and eating away at his skin.

Touya tried everything, he thought of the cold in his core that he no longer felt, of rushing streams and sweeping oceans, but nothing put the flames out. Touya tried to pat out his forearm, and the brief flash of skin he saw was discoloured and melting.

“Touya?” Fuyumi whispered, pushing herself back, away from him, and Touya reached out.

“Yumi, please, I— I don’t know what happening, I can’t—“ Touya choked out, blinking to hold back the tears and clenching his teeth against the pain, but Fuyumi recoiled from his reaching arms as the flames burst higher.

“Father! Father, help!” Fuyumi stood and ran, and all Touya could do was fall to his knees, clutching at his head and begging for the pain to stop. He was crying, but his tears evaporated immediately and the steam was scalding against his face.

“Somebody, please!” He slammed his head back against the wall, hoping that maybe if he got knocked out then he would stop burning, but the pain only jolted him back into focus. Everything was blue and swirling except for his skin which was red, red and dripping and hurting, hurting so much that his vision was white in the corners of his eyes.

Then everything got darker.

Touya dragged his hands down his neck and his shoulders and he screamed, and then everything was too dark to see. He could still feel though, he could feel everything as the fire ate away his skin and burned holes in his flesh, but he couldn’t seeand he needed to see, where was everybody?

Touya only knew relief when suddenly, like flicking a switch, he couldn’t feel either.

Chapter 6: I’m over it, I promise that

Chapter Text

“Tenko, are you ready to go? Your train leaves in five minutes!” Tenko looked down at his brother, standing before him and gripping the straps on his backpack tightly. It would be his first day of school without Tenko at his side and Izuku had said he’d be fine, but Tenko was wise to the way Izuku’s smile wavered at the corners.

He was nervous, he was scared to be alone at break, unprotected from the unrelenting attacks from his stupid, discriminatory classmates. Tenko bit his lip and looked to the bedroom door, where Inko was waiting for his answer.

“I think... can I take Izuku to school first, please? He starts fifteen minutes before me, and then if I run then I can make it to my class in ten.” Tenko wasn’t exactly stoked about the idea of running ten minutes straight between his old grade school building and the corresponding middle school, but Izuku bounced on his heels and looked at Tenko with stars in his eyes, which pretty much made the decision for him.

“If that’s what you want to do, sweetheart.” Tenko smiled, pulled on his gloves, and then hovered his hand at Izuku’s back to guide him out of the door. Inko kissed the top of Izuku’s head on his way out, and put her hand on Tenko’s shoulder to stop him at the door.

“Thank you Tenko, for looking after him. You’re an amazing brother.” Tenko gave her an awkward smile, turning and letting her hug him tightly before he left the house, bag slung over one shoulder.

His first day of middle school. Most of his friends had gone to the same school, except for Makoto who had been able to afford going to some rich private school in a different prefecture. Tenko would miss him, but he was happy his friend was going to get the best education that he could.

He and Izuku walked quickly down the street, making it to the station just as their train pulled in. Tenko took Izuku’s hand to make sure he didn’t wander off as they boarded, sitting him in one of the few remaining seats and then gripping a pole since he couldn’t reach the handles at the top of the train. They stopped at his station, but Tenko just gave Izuku a reassuring smile as he remained in place to make sure Izuku would make it to class safely.

At the next stop Tenko and Izuku field off with several other kids from Izuku’s school, and Izuku walked him right to the door of his classroom.

“Thank you, Nii-chan,” Izuku smiled, looking around at the growing crowd of his classmates warily, and Tenko shook his head.

“Is Katsuki in your class this year?” Izuku nodded, and Tenko frowned before leaning against the wall beside his classroom door, crossing his arms and stretching to his full height beside his brother.

“Then I’ll wait with you until class starts.” Izuku looked at him incredulously, eyebrows raised practically to his hairline.

“You can’t be late for your first day!” Tenko just shook his head, holding out a finger to shush his little brother.

“I told Inko already, your class starts fifteen minutes before mine and I can get there in ten.” Izuku pouted, but he didn’t object any further, and there was a little smile on his face when he pulled out his hero analysis notebook without having to worry about being bullied for it.

Katsuki arrived a few minutes later, his two lackeys in tow, and he almost made toward Izuku before he noticed Tenko at his side, towering almost a foot over the third graders at his 150cm stature. The blond scowled at Tenko and the older boy returned it with a wave, before the bell rang and Izuku’s teacher stepped out of the classroom. Tenko ruffled Izuku’s hair one last time, shot a cautionary look to Katsuki, and then practically sprinted out of the building to his own school.

He skidded to a stop in his own classroom with six minutes to spare, and Mahiru giggled at him from her seat at right next to the door. Tenko found the desk that had been assigned to him and sunk tiredly into it, already worn out for the day as Sayaka poked him from her desk to his left.

“Why are you in a rush? This is middle school, it’s not like you actually want to be here.” Tenko could only smile as he caught his breath, and Sayaka poked him again.

“Seriously, did you run all the way here or something? Your house is, like, thirty minutes away. You know there’s a train, yeah?” He turned to explain himself just as the bell rung, and everyone sat up straighter in their seats as the teacher walked into the room.

“Alright, welcome to your first proper day of middle school! We have quirk consultation this morning, can anybody tell me what that is?”

“It’s where we practise using our quirks to find out what kinds of jobs we can do with them!” Sayaka called out, and the teacher nodded placatingly.

“Very good, but please raise your hand next time Yasuhiro-san.” The teacher paused and looked around at each student, as if he’d lost his train of thought for a moment.

“Alright, why don’t you all change into your PE uniforms and we’ll head out onto the field! We’ll have some of our middle school third years there to help you out for your first lesson.” The class erupted into chatter at that, and Sayaka leaned over to elbow him in the side again.

“Do you think any of them will be cute?” Tenko scrunched up his nose and pushed her hand away as she snickered, and then they were all herded out to the change rooms and then the oval.

Tenko hung to the back of the group with his friends as they walked outside, picking at a loose seam on his right glove before catching himself and tucking his hands underneath his armpits again. Their teacher walked over and talked to the one standing out on the oval for a moment, and then turned back to them with a forced smile.

“Kids, this is class 3B. We’ll randomly pair you up with a third year, who can run you through your starting quirk tests while us teachers observe and take notes. Okay?” Nobody responded, and Tenko caught Sayaka’s gaze before rolling his eyes pointedly. They all knew from experience that “watch and take notes” really meant “gossip about you with the other teacher”.

They also knew that inevitably, if enough of them started talking about Tenko, they’d figure out who he was, and that would be a whole different drama to deal with.

“Midoriya and Takami,” the third year teacher said, and Tenko scanned the crowd nervously. A boy with bright red wings raised a feather into the air, and Tenko nervously put a gloved hand up as well. Golden eyes lined with dramatic eyeliner locked onto him, and Tenko gulped. Those were the eyes of a person who was too curious for his own good.

“Okay, go find your parners and spread out, but not too far. You should all know how much space your quirk will need.”

The two classes shuffled around half-heartedly, and Tenko caught sight of Chihiro standing nervously in front of a girl nearly twice the size of them. They looked over briefly and gave Tenko an over-exaggerated shrug, before sticking out their arms in a T-pose and growing little spines out of every available inch of their skin. The girl made a mildly impressed face, and Chihiro grinned impishly.

Tenko blinked, and suddenly there was a red feather waving in front of his eyes, the third year he had made eye contact with earlier leaning forward and smirking. He was almost exactly the same height as Tenko, no doubt short for a third year, but the sheer size of his wings more than made up for it in intimidation.

“Hey, I’m Takami Keigo. It’s Midoriya, right?” The boy stuck his hand out as the feather buried itself back into one of his wings, and Tenko eyed it warily. Something about him just seemed a little suspicious.

“Midoriya Tenko, yeah,” he said quietly, reaching forward quickly to try and shake his hand before he noticed the gloves, but the boy’s grip was tight.

“Ya know, I’ve always thought the whole western handshake thing was really interesting. It’s meant to show that someone doesn’t have any weapons, right? Though...” he paused for a moment and looked over Tenko’s shoulder. Tenko followed his sharp gaze and found another bright red feather hovering behind his back, looking suspiciously sharp. “...that wouldn’t really work for me.” Their hands were still clasped, and Takami’s eyes drifted down to Tenko’s half-gloves.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t really work for you, either. Unless you just wear those to look cool?” Tenko was taken aback, and he ripped his hand out of Takami’s grasp, tugging the opening of the glove firmly down on his wrist.

“Of course not.” Takami just chuckled lightly, folding his hands in front of him.

“My quirk is called Fierce Wings, it’s pretty self explanatory. What’s yours?” Tenko was about to interject with the fact that Takami’s quirk was clearly not self explanatory, what with the floating feathers and the eyeliner that looked suspiciously like skin and the way his pupils and irises would retract or expand at basically any stimuli, but then Tamaki threw his hands up in Tenko’s face and wiggled his fingers.

“Hey, don’t tell me, let me guess.” He tapped a finger on his chin and gave Tenko a once over, but something told him he didn’t really need it to find his answer. Tenko was overcome with the urge to scratch or tuck his palms away, but he clenched his hands into fists at his sides instead. The guy was already overanalysing him, there was no need to give him any extra hints.

There was a sharp gleam in Takami’s eye when he smiled a few seconds later.

“So, it’s definitely based in your hands, and it’s definitely involuntary because otherwise you wouldn’t need gloves. I’d say it’s either four or five fingers required to activate, but probably five because that’s more likely. Am I right?” He didn’t even give Tenko time to answer before he threw his hands forward again to shush him, but Tenko wasn’t impressed. Anybody could figure those things out.

“But again with the gloves, a lot of people with involuntary quirks just learn to lift one finger all the time, and they’re usually pretty eager to demonstrate because it’s usually something cool, so yours must be kind of dangerous, right? You seem kind of scared of your hands too, have you hurt someone with your quirk before?” Takami paused, looking Tenko over once more before lowering his voice with a sly smile.

“Did you kill your pet when it manifested or something?” It was just a stupid guess, just a kid trying to push Tenko’s buttons, but it hit too close to home and Tenko found himself heaving as the smells and tastes and sounds filled his mind again. He remembered choking like his own esophagus had turned to dust, then throwing up because oh god there really was dust in his throat and it had come from—

“Woah, woah, calm down. Deep breaths, buddy, I’m sorry.” A soft, tentative hand on his back lowered him to the floor, and flashes of bright red blocked out the sun and the prying eyes of his classmates and upperclassmen. Tenko caught a flash of golden iris in the haze of red and bright, terrifying white, and the hand on his back gripped his shoulder.

“Breathe with me, come on. In, two, three... out, two, three... there you go. In, two...” the voice carried on steadily as Tenko tried to blink away the white behind his eyelids, and eventually he could see damp black gloves screwed into artificial green grass. He lifted his head, and Takami smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry kid, I was being stupid. I won’t ask anymore if you don’t want me to.” Takami helped him to stand, and then he looked at Tenko’s neck and winced.

“Jeez man, you’re bleeding.” Tenko reached up to touch the sides of his neck, but Takami jolted forward and held his hands down.

“Maybe don’t look, I don’t think blood is... anyway, I’ll get a tissue or something.” Takami didn’t move, standing awkwardly between Tenko and the rest of the students in case one of them looked over, but thirty seconds later a feather appeared, skewering a wad of tissues. Tenko took them quietly and pressed them to the raw skin against his throat, keeping his eyes on the boy in front of him.

“Tell you what. You can hang out, I’ll just show you the basics instead, cool?” Tenko nodded and sat quietly on the grass as Takami went through examples of what he could do with his quirk. He could tell the blond felt guilty, and for once he didn’t feel bad about taking advantage of that. He sat down for the entire lesson, until eventually the bell rang for them to go to their next class, and Takami helped him to stand.

“Sorry about that. I’ll see you around, right?” Tenko nodded, and Takami’s wings fluffed a little before he turned to follow the rest of his class off to who knows where. Tenko was happy to have skipped out on the class, but he was hardly the kind of person to brush that off so quickly.

He hasn’t realised he was still so gripped by his past, surely eight years with a child psychologist would’ve made him better? But he still felt the same, still clammed up at the mention of his quirk, still dug his nails into himself at the first available opportunity, still just couldn’t live normally. If he couldn’t handle people asking about his quirk, how was he ever supposed to function in a society practically driven by the destruction at his fingertips?

Even if he could answer questions properly, he saw how the world treated Izuku, he had a pretty good idea of what they’d think of him too. Could he really be a hero like this?

Tenko knew it was a stupid unrealistic goal, but some part of him still clutched onto it. None of the heroes in town had helped him, maybe he could be better, or something like that. But heroes were supposed to be brave and strong and inspiring, and Tenko was nought for three in those categories.

Tenko dragged his feet as he followed his class back to the change room, and for the rest of the day he ignored his classwork in favour of staring down hard at his book, wondering just what it would take for him to be a real hero.

= = =

The second the bell rang to signify the end of class, Tenko was up and out of his seat. To hell with whatever rules he was breaking, because every second that he waited was another second that his brother was in danger. His teacher called out indignantly as he bolted through the halls, but nobody attempted to stop the scrawny kid racing along like his life depended on it.

Tenko thought that analogy maybe didn’t work so well, for him at least. It wasn’t his life that was in danger, it was his brother’s, and that was a thought infinitely more terrifying than Tenko’s own death could ever be.

Tenko burst out of the front of the school building and raced down the street, weaving expertly between pedestrians and taking shortcuts over walls and across roads. He might seem dramatic, but he wouldn’t trust Katsuki with a single hair from Izuku’s head, let alone his entire body surrounded by people that would support his awful actions.

Tenko spun around an old lady and clipped his ankle on a streetlight, but recovered quickly and continued running, even if he was a little slower against the pain. Some old guy yelled at him from across the road, so Tenko took a moment to spin around and stick his tongue out at the geezer.

He arrived at Izuku’s school and located his brother instantly, standing at the front gate and ignoring the jeers from his classmates just like Tenko had told him to do. The older boy stiffened as he looked over at the offending kids, and then protectively put his arm over Izuku and pulled his brother firmly to his side. Izuku laughed at the action and tried to push himself away, so Tenko let him go, ruffling his curls affectionately.

“How was your day?” He asked, trying to ignore the fact that Katsuki was maybe twenty metres behind them, and Izuku’s expression dropped immediately.

“It was... fine,” he said, and Tenko took a moment to take a closer look at his brother. His face was clear, but... there it was. On the shoulder of his uniform, a faint scorch mark in the shape of an awfully familiar hand. Izuku followed his gaze and quickly realised what Tenko was looking at.

“Oh! No it’s okay, that was... an accident.” Tenko quirked an eyebrow at his brother, and the kid sighed. As clever and—if the pranks he pulled were any indication—scheming as Izuku was, he was a terrible liar.

“Izuku,” he started, and Izuku waved his hands.

“I know, Nii-chan! I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything, they just won’t stop being mean.” He sniffled, and Tenko put a comforting arm over his shoulder once again.

“I know it sucks. All you can do is refuse to react—“ Izuku raised an eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes “—legally. They’ll get bored eventually. I’ll always do my best to help you, you know that.” Izuku nodded, sighing and clutching the straps of his backpack as Tenko retracted his arm.

“What about you? Were you late for school?” Izuku looked up at him, curious and bright as always, and a small smile graced Tenko’s expression as he shook his head.

“Nah. We did quirk consultation stuff in first period, to figure out how we could use our quirks for our jobs or whatever.” Izuku looked understandably concerned at that, and Tenko chuckled awkwardly.

“Yeah. I um, I didn’t end up actually doing anything. The guy I was partnered with asked a bunch of questions and I kinda...” Tenko trailed off and tilted his head to the side, revealing the scabbing on the sides of his neck. Izuku gasped, clutching onto Tenko’s arm.

“But he apologised and then let me just sit down for the rest of the lesson, so it’s okay.” Izuku looked dubious at best, still eyeing Tenko’s scratches with concern clear in his features, so Tenko knocked his elbow against his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.” Izuku blinked up at him and nodded, but he was pouting as he did it. Tenko knew he wanted to keep talking but honestly, Tenko didn’t want to dump his issues on his little brother. He already saw a therapist, surely that was enough.

Izuku tugged at the hem of his uniform and looked back over his shoulder, eyeing the crowd of students walking to the same train station as them. He looked nervous, like he wanted to say something but also didn’t, and Tenko realised that he couldn’t just be silent. Not talking about his issues would make Izuku think it was okay to do that, and Tenko knew he would hate to be left in the dark the way he was leaving Izuku out. At the same time, a third grader was hardly ready for the things that Tenko had been through, Izuku didn’t know what happened to Tenko’s... real family, and Tenko planned to keep it that way.

“Izuku...” he started, then trailed off and looked down at his hands. Izuku followed his gaze as he tugged on the fingers of his gloves, and then Tenko clasped them behind his back.

“Do you think I could be a hero?” Takami had said he was going to be a hero. He had said it with no hesitation and no doubt, like it was set in stone. With a quirk like his, it probably could be. He’d get into any hero course no problem, even Yuuei would take him in a heartbeat. He was clever, energetic, talented, he was everything a modern hero should be. And he was compassionate as well, that was something Tenko appreciated immensely. Something that should be the bare minimum for a hero, but apparently didn’t matter that much anymore.

“Of course! Nii-chan is amazing, he saves people all the time! Your quirk would be really good for rescue work right? And you’re so nice, you’d be able to help and inspire everyone like All Might!” Tenko smiled down at his little brother, practically skipping at his side as he rattled off every heroic quality he had. Tenko had no doubt that Izuku had all of those things written down in a notebook somewhere, and smiled at his brother’s diligence.

“You should go to Yuuei!” He exclaimed, clenching his fists in front of him and stopping in his tracks. Tenko chuckled, unclasping his hands and putting one on Izuku’s massive backpack.

“I don’t know about that. But thank you.” He ushered the boy forward so that the kids behind them wouldn’t catch up, and they were practically silent on the train on the way home, sitting next to each other and scrolling through hero news on Tenko’s phone as Izuku scribbled away in his third notebook.

When they got home Inko worried over them, sending them to their room to put away their bags and change out of their uniforms and then welcoming them into the lounge with snacks and millions of questions about how their days went. Izuku and Tenko shared a look, and made a mutual agreement to leave out the not-so-good parts, for her sake. Inko smiled and hugged them and rushed around the room, tidying and cooking.

“Why are you so worked up, Inko?” The woman stopped and smiled at them, hands pressed to her heart.

“Oh, I’m just so proud of you both!” Izuku blushed and smiled and muttered to himself at the compliment, and Tenko ruffled his hair again. It was a habit at this point, like how Sayaka said that seeing her older brothers made her instinctively want to smack them. Of course, Tenko could never do something like that, but the hair thing was close enough.

“And...” Inko muttered, and Tenko returned his attention to her.

“And?” Inko sighed, wringing her wrists as she shuffled back into the kitchen to stir something on the stove. Izuku sat up on his knees to look over the back of the couch at her, and she gave him an apologetic half smile.

“We have guests coming. The Bakugou’s are going to have dinner over here.” Tenko stiffened, and Izuku flopped back into the couch.

“...Okay,” he said brightly, but Tenko knew it was anything but. The Bakugou’s themselves were fine, sure. Mitsuki was a little loud but she was perfectly respectful toward Inko, Izuku and himself, plus she kept Katsuki in line, even if the sight of her hitting Katsuki brought back uncomfortable memories. Masaru was practically the closest thing to a father figure both Izuku and Tenko had, and he seemed to understand that. He was considerate, he gave Tenko his phone number and told him to call anytime he needed something, and he tried to keep his family calm, even if the effort was futile.

But Katsuki, no. Tenko didn’t trust Katsuki in his house. Katsuki would break something or hurt someone and he’d barely get in trouble for it, Inko couldn’t even bring herself to scold Tenko or Izuku properly when they acted out (though it was rare that they did), she would hardly try to make Katsuki apologise for anything. Mitsuki would probably smack him and scream about it, but that hardly helped, in Tenko’s humble opinion. It just gave him more anger to stock up, and Tenko knew exactly how that anger could manifest itself.

“When are they getting here?” Izuku asked quietly from where he was lying the couch, and Inko glanced up at the clock.

“In about twenty minutes.” Tenko and Izuku shared a look, and Tenko began mentally preparing himself for trying to reign in an eight year old all night. Izuku sat up from the couch, hand subconsciously rubbing at his shoulder, where the burn had been on his uniform.

“Okay.”

= = =

It was dark. Weirdly dark, in which logically he shouldn’t be able to see, yet everything seemed to have this glow that let him make out the shapes in the room. Cylinders and tubes surrounded him, the glow made them pale green with sillouettes of barely human figures inside. Strange elongated arms, exposed brains, extra limbs, all so twisted and mangled that he couldn’t believe they were alive.

Touya tried to take a breath to find that he couldn’t. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t move, couldn’t hear or feel or taste. But he was here, alive, weightless but also heavy-headed, so aware yet so hopelessly lost. Touya didn’t know what was happening, his brain wouldn’t let him think about it, as if it was actively supressing the memories in his mind. Like something had happened that it wasn’t programmed to be able to acknowledge.

Touya couldn’t move his head to look at himself, but he was suddenly aware of the fact that maybe the strange glow wasn’t a trick of the light, but because he was inside one of those strange glowing tubes as well. Touya knew that, logically, he should be panicked. Logically he should cry and scream and beg to be freed, but he felt content. He had a feeling that he’d been there for a while and, well, he wasn’t dead yet right? Touya couldn’t move his eyes, but his peripheral vision caught the sight of a door opening at the end of the long corridor.

Light streamed into the room, but the sudden change in brightness had no effect on Touya’s sight. Two people walked into the room, one of them gesturing excitedly to each twisted creature while the other stayed behind, walking slowly, appraising carefully. The fear Touya felt when two pairs of eyes flicked onto him was the first thing he’d felt in a while.

The shorter figure clicked a button, and Touya’s world was awash with sound. The churning of the liquid around him, the mechanical squeaks and groans, and most importantly, the voices.

“This is one of my greatest, sir. It’s taken two years to put him back together, but I can assure you that he’s above and beyond in terms of a successor.” Something about that made pride bloom in Touya’s chest. They were right, he was amazing. Now that his senses were alive Touya could feel the warmth burning in his veins, each one like a blazing trail of fire beneath his skin. It might’ve been painful to anyone who hadn’t been burned their entire life.

“He’s awake already,” the second man observed, and the first man—the one Touya assumed had made him the way he was—chucked excitedly. He pressed another button, and the liquid in the tank started draining away. Touya realised belatedly that it was a coolant, every inch of his skin exposed to open air burned and itched with need, his skin seering and irritation spiking in his mind as he was still unable to quell the feeling. His fingers twitched with movement and warmth rushed up from his fingertips, everything was just so warm, way too warm, he needed to do something to stop it—

“His resting internal temperature is 45 degrees Celsius,” the shorter man said, pulling a clipboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“Over the years I’ve been using the serum you provided to slowly bring it up, which means that he is now capable of making hotter flames, and the cold in his core is no longer hindering that ability.”

“Of course, the method of his recovery and the experimental nature of this process left him with some unappealing scars, but I believe it looks very interesting, sir.” The taller man hummed, and gestured to Touya’s form.

“Tenko would’ve been a better option, but this will do.” The second man said, and the first had the gall to nod solemnly. Touya felt the heat flare in his core, and then pinpricks on his fingertips showed that his hand had set ablaze at the end of an arm lined in thick purple scarring.

To think he had been intrigued by this place, these people! How dare they, after everything, still treat him as a second choice?! First to Shouto, now this Tenko character, no matter what Touya tried, where he was, he was never good enough. The second man eyed the flames evenly, his expression betraying no discernible emotion, and then he nodded.

“Thank you, doctor. Please release him and show him to his room, I have to finish preparing Kurogiri.” Touya didn’t know who that was, but the taller man walked out briskly, leaving Touya alone with the doctor.

“Well, Touya. How are you feeling? It’s been a while,” the doctor said, and Touya wheezed as he tried to speak. The doctor held up a placating hand, and the front of the test tube suddenly slid open. Touya looked down at himself once again, at the scarring that climbed and enveloped his body, and the doctor tutted

“Come along, boy, you can look yourself over in your room.” Touya flexed his fingers and then slowly, painstakingly, slid his foot along the damp glass beneath him as he moved toward the opening. He didn’t think he’d have the strength to lift his leg if he tried.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll have to call the Master back in to carry you.” Something about that statement sent visceral fear rocketing through Touya’s nerves, and he shuddered before picking up the pace.

He scuffed his bare feet along the floor as he walked side by side with the doctor.

“Now, you’ll refer to me as Ujiko-san, no more, no less. Master is going to be teaching you his ways, so refer to him as Sensei.” The doctor, Ujiko-san, spoke in a neutral tone with a current of morbid interest beneath it, something that sent familiar shivers down Touya’s spine. Everything about the place was unsettling, and while Touya was absolutely aware of that fact, he no longer felt the instinctual need to get away from it.

“What are his ways, exactly?” Touya’s throat stuck and his voice rasped, but Ujiko-san just chuckled.

“Why, you’re going to get revenge, of course. Revenge on all the fake heroes who did nothing to help you.” Touya’s skin burned as he recovered memories of his family, and Ujiko-san hummed.

“There you go, boy. Hold onto that anger, don’t ever let anyone try to take it from you. That’s the source of your strength.” Touya flexed his palms in front of him, nodding in agreement as he watched the tendons push against the thick covering of charred mess above them.

“How old am I?” He asked suddenly, and Ujiko chuckled, shaking his head.

“It hardly matters anymore, Touya is dead, isn’t he? There’s only you left.” He remained quiet as they watched, remained quiet as they introduced his caretaker Kurogiri, a man of few words and dark mist.

He spent hours in front of the mirror, white hair and blue eyes the only things that remained of who he used to be, once clear, porcelain skin marred with gruesome, enflamed reminders of the fact that he wasn’t that person anymore. The dark circles that hung from his eyes looked different now, the same dark purple colour made of patchwork stitches and wrinkled scars.

His body was ruined, the scarring swallowed both of his arms whole and stretched up his neck, climbing his legs in spiralling patches reminiscent of the rivers his flesh had once run down them. He was ruined. He had always been ruined, really, at least now his appearance expressed that.

He didn’t have a name. He wasn’t Touya, could never be Touya again, but he hadn’t been given another option. He was just himself, surrounded by people who had no stakes in his well-being. He fell asleep to the thought that really, not much had changed.

Chapter 7: I just gotta sing it out of me

Chapter Text

Tenko sighed as the front door was closed in front of him, hand dropping back to his side. He was exhausted, who knew managing a pair of third graders could be so mentally taxing? He followed Inko and Izuku back away from the front door, where they had been waving their guests goodbye, and walked backward into the couch, the armrest hitting the backs of his legs and letting him fall onto the plush cushions.

“Okay Izu, it’s time for bed,” Inko called from the kitchen, and his brother groaned.

“Ten more minutes!” He whined to his mother, tugging on Tenko’s sleeve to try and get him to come to his defence. Tenko glanced at his brother and was immediately hit with bright viridian puppy eyes, and he could hardly throw Izuku under the bus after that.

“Yeah. I was... going to help Izuku with his homework earlier, but then the Bakugou’s came over and I couldn’t,” Tenko said slowly, and Izuku nodded frantically at his mother. She eyed the two of them suspiciously, then made a show of sighing dramatically and shooing at them.

“Fine, fifteen minutes. But you better actually get some homework done.” Izuku grinned and nodded excitedly, rushing to his room to bring out a random school book, and Inko pretended not to notice his hero notebook between it’s pages.

Tenko quietly read him hero news and showed him pictures when Inko’s back was turned, knowing that she was aware of what they were doing but pretending anyway, if only for the way his brother’s eyes lit up at the feeling of being harmlessly rebellious.

Eventually, Inko really did send them to bed, and Tenko pretended to distract her whilst Izuku snuck away with his notebooks in hand. Inko smiled warmly as he scurried down the hall, then her gaze fell on Tenko.

“I’ll come say goodnight to you two in a minute. Try not to provoke him too much while he’s falling asleep,” she said softly, and Tenko responded by rolling his eyes as they shone with affection.

“Obviously, he still has school tomorrow,” Tenko said, and Inko smiled slyly as she turned to finish tidying up.

“So do you, mister, don’t stay up too late.” Tenko hopped up onto the counter, and Inko shot him a look that he blissfully ignored as he swung his feet.

“What if I do?” He prodded casually, and Inko smiled as she shot him a cautionary look over her shoulder.

“I know you’re a teenager now, but you aren’t allowed to be rebellious,” she joked, and Tenko smiled. His birthday had been five days ago and Inko still insisted on referring to him as a child, though he honestly didn’t mind much. In his opinion there wasn’t much difference between twelve and thirteen anyway.

“Okay, fine. G’night Inko.” He waved over his shoulder as he followed his brother into their room, and just as he was about to pull himself up into his bunk bed, he froze.

“We haven’t brushed our teeth,” he said to Izuku, and the younger boy giggled and shushed him loudly.

“It’s fiiine~,” he stage-whispered, and Tenko shook his head as he dropped back down onto his feet and pulled Izuku out onto the floor by his arm.

“C’mon, if you want teeth like mine then you need to brush them every night,” Tenko said, smiling wide, a clear set up for the sly remark he could see forming in Izuku’s mind.

“Your teeth are gross, though,” he said cheekily, and Tenko raised his eyebrows as the younger boy’s smile steadily grew, then reached down and hefted Izuku onto his feet.

“Then you gotta brush your teeth to make them not like mine, jeez,” he joked, walking into the bathroom with Izuku’s light steps following behind him. They brushed their teeth quickly, Tenko eyeing Izuku through the mirror to make sure he didn’t pull any kind of trick, and then they rushed back to bed before Inko could see them. Tenko climbed up into the top bunk and starfished out as wide as he could, staring up at the blank ceiling until Inko’s gentle footsteps crossed the threshold into their bedroom. She leaned down first, tucking Izuku neatly into his bed, then stood up on her toes to look at Tenko.

“Goodnight boys, sweet dreams.” They both murmured their responses as Inko brushed Tenko’s hair back off of his forehead, smiling softly at him before stepping back.

“Love you,” she whispered from the doorway, and Izuku returned it through a yawn. Tenko rolled onto his side to watch her through the wooden bars of his bunk, and she gave him a little wave before stepping out of the room, leaving a crack in the door so that the hall light would seep in.

“G’night Nii-chan,” Izuku said sleepily, and Tenko flipper over again so that he was facing away from the obtrusive hall light.

“Night Izuku.” Tenko heard his brother shifting around in his bed, but eventually the noises stopped, and his breathing became quiet and even. Tenko flipped over again, one arm hanging off of the edge of his bed as he laid on his front, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

...He was outside, at a park that seemed nondescript but Tenko remembered it when he focused on it, watching his brother and his friends. Supervising, probably. They seemed to be getting along well enough, Izuku was distant, but he was safe, which was honestly the best he could get from that group of people in Tenko’s opinion. Not that Izuku cared.

Katsuki was leading them around the park, kicking at piles of fallen cherry blossom and hitting trees with weapons made of sticks. Then, abruptly, he turned around and threw a stick at Izuku instead. Izuku stumbled back, clutching at his eye and yelping, and the stick rolled along the ground, a smear of blood on its tip. Tenko tried to run toward him, anger making his palms twitch, but he was frozen in place on the bench, like the dream had pre-set its storyline and all Tenko could do was watch. It was just a dream, only a dream, he didn’t need to worry. None of it was real, that wasn’t Izuku clutching his face, that wasn’t Katsuki laughing cruelly.

Izuku looked up and there was blood leaking between his fingers, running down his face and into his open mouth as he screamed for Tenko to help him. Suddenly he was on his feet, sprinting full force toward his brother, but the longer he ran, the farther away they seemed. The park stretched on as Tenko desperately ran and dodged obstacles, and all the while more and more blood ran down Izuku’s face and Katsuki still laughed like he couldn’t see brilliant viridian eyes going grey.

Finally Tenko made it, reaching out for Izuku. Izuku spun to look at him, raised one arm to grab his shirt, and Tenko pulled his brother to his chest, cradling his head with one hand. His hair was sparse and matted, he felt rigid and fragile, like if Tenko held him too tightly he’d—

Tenko pushed Izuku away and the boy stumbled, hands coming away from his face to desperately hold crumbling ash in place on his head.

“Nii—“ he coughed, and a spatter of blood hit the ground. Izuku’s mouth was open, and Tenko could see out through the back of his head.

“No...” Tenko whispered, looking down at his hands and realising he wasn’t wearing gloves, he did this, he did it again, he needed to stop it, get help from someone, anyone—

But there was nobody there.

Nobody answered his cries as Izuku collapsed against him, skull open in the back and barely more than an empty shell as he murmured into Tenko’s shirt. His arms were shattering and Tenko was covered in his blood, keeping his index fingers raised as he pulled Izuku to his chest. It was still Izuku, he was still talking, he could still—

“Nii-chan, wh—“ Izuku coughed again, that viscous grey-red fluid spattering over Tenko’s shirt. The sight made Tenko gag, but he kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t handle inhaling it, not again, he couldn’t—!

“Why did you...” Izuku had two fingers left on his hand and they raked painfully down Tenko’s chest as he fell to his knees, trying to hold all of the mangled corpse that was Izuku in his arms. Izuku looked up at him, only a small piece of his face remaining, but the eye on his head wasn’t Izuku’s wide viridian. It was Hana’s, angled by her heavy lashes, iris a flat, dull black that seemed to absorb every bit of light around it as the life and depth drained from them. The eye blinked, curious, and the corner of the nightmare amalgamation’s mouth twitched into a smile as his brother—or maybe his sister—dissolved to bloody chunks on the grass.

“Tenko, I’m sorry...” her voice echoed behind Tenko’s eyes, and he was thrown back again, falling and falling until he was kneeling in a different patch of bloody grass, a different sibling in front of him. Mon-chan’s blood soaked his hands and the grass around him and his throat was dry, rasping and scraping against itself as Hana was none the wiser, eyes on the ground as she muttered an apology. Tenko didn’t care that she blamed him, he didn’t care that he got hit, he just wanted her to notice and to live.

“H... Hana...” he croaked, and when she looked up and screamed, Tenko screwed his hands into the grass. Don’t touch don’t touchdon’t touch. Hana turned and ran away as the ground beneath them fell apart, cracks running toward the house, toward his sister, and then up her legs and spiralling around her until she dissolved on the ground right outside their back door.

Tenko screamed, raw and visceral yet silent and clouded in his mind, and then he caught a glimpse of his mother’s face as she ran out to him. So worried for him, she ran directly toward the cause of danger and she— He was back with Izuku, holding chunks of bone and flesh that could barely constitute a person against his chest.

“Han—Izuku, no I’m so sorry, no no no I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry I’m sorry I didn’t realise I didn’t know...” Tenko sobbed and his tears were red, nobody was there, why was nobody there?! Why didn’t anybody ever help him, he needed help! He cradled a thick pile of bloodied ash against him as he sobbed on the grass, alone and empty with an itch beneath the skin of his palms.

“Shimura Tenko?” Said a voice, and when Tenko jerked back his eyes snapped open and he was in his room again, lying on his side with his sheets bundled against his chest.

The room was eerily silent, unsettling in it’s normalcy as Tenko checked, then double checked that his gloves were still on his hands. His head spun as he sat up, his eyes and his throat ached from the tears and the screaming, which begged the question of why wasn’t anyone else awake? If he had been as loud as his throat said he was then Inko and Izuku would be awake and comforting him, but there was nothing but the rattle of the window frame and sweep of the curtains against the humid spring air. Where was everybody?

Tenko had a brief moment of panic and leant over the side of the railing, looking down into his brother’s bunk to make sure that he was safe. His sheets were thrown back, and his bed was empty. Tenko felt ice shoot down his spine and swirl through his veins as he practically jumped off of his bed, landing lightly on the floor and stumbling on his way out of the door. He ran down the hall and came to Inko’s room, where the door was ajar. Tenko looked down at his hands, saw that his gloves were there, and nudged the door open with his elbow anyway.

The door creaked loudly and Tenko cringed, peaking over at the bed that lay in the middle. Inko was there, holding Izuku bundled close in her arms in the middle of her bed. Izuku probably had a bad dream or something, it was fine. Tenko closed the door quietly behind him and wandered out to the kitchen, getting a glass of water for his sore throat.

He couldn’t help the little twinge of jealousy in his chest, though he hated it. Izuku was Inko’s son, not him. And Izuku was younger, of course if he was upset during the night then he could sleep next to her, that was what kids did. Inko wasn’t his mom, he had a mom and he killed her. Maybe even deliberately, yeah.

He didn’t deserve another chance, that much was obvious. Being near him was dangerous.

His grip tightened on the glass of water and it slipped out of his gloved hand, smashing into a spinning pattern of water and shards that glistened in the moonlight peeking through the window. Tenko looked down at it, at the way the glass surrounded him, and thought about how pretty it was, the destruction. The edges of the shards glinted an inviting silver, they were probably so sharp, and Tenko was so itchy...

He knelt down and touched one, feeling his fingertip conform to its shape as he pressed, and when he lifted his hand the tiny shard remained stuck on the pad of his finger. He inspected it, and his mind itched like there were splinters of glass behind his eyelids. He held the shard between forefinger and thumb, turning it this way and that, seeing how the light bounced off of it to dart around between the shards on the floor.

He wielded it like a weapon, pressed it softly to the pale, dry skin on his forearm, and then dropped it to the floor. He wasn’t going to do that.

Tenko made sure not to move his feet when he stood back up, twisting his body to reach for the dustpan. He swept up the shards delicately and scraped them into the garbage can, mopping up the spilled water with a towel. It was a miracle that Inko hadn’t woken yet, and Tenko decided he wouldn’t push his luck any further as he went back to his room and climbed back into his bed.

He didn’t want to sleep for fear of the nightmares, he didn’t want to dream in fear of missing what was happening in real life, so he pulled his phone out from under his pillow and opened his messages.

Tenko: Do you think I could be a hero?

Like a real one with a license n whatever

He knew Makoto wouldn’t be awake yet, his phone displayed the time as barely scraping 3am, but he would probably get a response in the morning. In the meantime, he opened google, debated internally, and then typed in a simple phrase. ‘Heroes with destructive quirks.’

The first results were expected, All Might and Endeavor, or pro heroes with quirks that were big and messy like Ryukyu, who had just debuted a month or so ago. Those weren’t what he was looking for, though, they all had a choice. They could all use their quirks to fight people, and those people would be injured, sure, but they didn’t die.

He scrolled down, making it to the second and third pages of results as he passed article after article criticising reckless behaviour from heroes, and felt his hope draining through his exposed fingertips as it seemed clearer that it could never work for him.

Then, a link with a name he didn’t recognise, Thirteen. It took him to a reddit post, someone praising this hero as an inspiration to all the people out there with destructive quirks. Thirteen was a rescue hero, their quirk turned anything that they sucked up with their fingers into fine dust. Tenko couldn’t help but feel a little thrill run down his spine at that, he was just like them.

He looked up the name on YouTube and tapped the first result, an interview with the hero after a battle, a reporter catching them still in their hero suit as they watched over the cleanup of a highway devastated by villains with Gigantification quirks.

“Thirteen, could I talk to you for a moment?” The Hero in the massive space suit nodded, and the reporter flipped open a notebook.

“You’ve been quite popular in support communities for people with typically villainous quirks, many even say that you’ve inspired them to become heroes themselves, what do you have to say to your fans at home?” The eyes on Thirteen’s hood widened, and the hero looked about as taken aback as they could without an actual face to express themself with.

“Well, ah, I’d like to thank them for the support, first!” Thirteen’s voice was mechanical yet clear, and Tenko could hear the flustered excitement in it.

“Um, to those aspiring heroes out there, I’d say give it all you’ve got! A quirk doesn’t make a person, and if you want to protect people, then by all means you should do so! The most important thing for a hero is to help the people that can’t help themselves, so whether that means being a rescue hero, a support hero, or a battle hero, all that matters is that you have the will to help people.” The interviewer opened her mouth to ask another question, but then a sidekick in the background wavered under a heavy chunk of rubble, and the hero held up a finger.

“Sorry to cut this short, I’ve still got work to do!” The hero spun on their heel and jogged over to the sidekick, showing off their bright yellow sneakers as they did so. They pointed a finger and the thimble-like cap swung off of it, before a stream of air and dirt sucked the chunk of debris into the opening in her suit. Tenko found himself wondering all kinds of things about the logistics of the quirk they kept hidden in that massive suit of theirs, and wondered if that was how Izuku felt looking at heroes every day.

He ended up spending over an hour watching footage of the hero out in the field, helping civilians and clearing debris with ease. That was the kind of hero Tenko wanted to be, someone that really, truly helped people. Someone honest and kind, who prioritised the lives of civilians over capturing villains. That was what really mattered, to Tenko at least.He would never let himself be responsible for someone else’s pain, never again.

Tenko checked the time, belatedly realising that it was far too late (early?) and that he’d still have school that day, and put his phone away, settling back down into his bed.

It was difficult, trying to let himself sleep after everything he’d seen, between the fear of nightmares and the newly-regenerated interest in heroes his mind was refusing to slow, but eventually, it did. Tenko let out a sigh as he relaxed into his pillow, half-gloved fingers curling into cool sheets, and the three hours of sleep he got were soft and peaceful.

= = =

The following evening, Tenko was just climbing into bed when he felt his phone buzz underneath his pillow.

Makoto: Why?

I mean, yeah. I think so

You saved me, you could be a rescue hero or something

Tenko bit his lip and clutched his phone to his chest for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that he wasn’t exactly a classic example of a hero. Heroes had scars sometimes, sure, but never on their faces. They were strong and bright and larger-than-life, Tenko didn’t know if he could live up to those standards. He didn’t think he could handle the constant ridicule, the gossip about him looking more like a villain, gods forbid he accidentally did something dangerous.

Tenko pushed his phone back under his pillow as he flipped onto his side, staring past the narrow gap of the door. He could see the hall beyond it, bright and tinted yellow by the cheap lights, jarring against his tired eyes. He flipped over again, burying his face into his pillow, and felt himself drift to sleep.

When Tenko jolted awake the dream was already fading from his memory, but the terror remained deep in his bones. Izuku was in his bed and snoring softly, which meant Inko likely was too, so Tenko climbed down from his bed and tiptoed into the kitchen. He didn’t notice the tears pouring down his face until one splashed down onto the hardwood floor.Tenko sniffed loudly to keep the sobs at bay, and as he looked around the empty room, so very familiar yet so quiet and dead, he felt lonely.

That was what he was, despite everything, Tenko was lonely. He had friends and a brother, but none of them knew him, not really. None of them knew the guilt he harboured, the things he’d done. Tenko would never risk telling them and losing them, even if he knew in his heart that he would deserve it.

Tenko was quiet as he shuffled around the kitchen, getting a glass of water and paracetamol for his pounding headache, and his silence allowed him to hear the second pair of footsteps coming down the hall. Heavier than his own, cautious yet quick and sure footed as they moved down the hall. Tenko put his glass down on the counter, wiped at his eyes again, and looked up at Inko as she stood in the hall.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She asked carefully, and Tenko sniffed.

“Yeah. I just, uh, had a bad dream and couldn’t get back to sleep. Sorry for waking you up,” he excused, moving to try and dodge around her back to his room, but she stopped him.

“You didn’t wake me, I was already up.” Then a brief pause, as she looked down at her hands then up again. She moved to the couch and sat down, beckoning Tenko forward until he sat next to her.

“What was your nightmare about?” She whispered, nothing but gentle acceptance and fondness in her gaze, and Tenko felt the tears flow back with a vengeance as the memories of his dreams flooded back with them.

“I just... it’s about... that day. And what I did, and how I—“ Tenko hiccupped, already crying again, and he wiped his nose with the palm of his hand and turned away from Inko. The woman shifted closer, putting a gentle, cautious hand on his shoulder. Tenko looked back to her and saw all the emotion she felt, how clear and honest it was. She and Izuku both were always so open, so honest, so bright and optimistic. They didn’t fear the world the way Tenko did. He wanted to be like that.

“I’m scared that I’ll do it again,” a short whisper down to his gloved hands, the black material feeling so natural as it hugged close to his skin, and then those hands weren’t in his lap anymore as Inko held them between her own. Tenko almost pulled back for a second, but repressed the urge as he saw the rims of his gloves still peaking out past her hands. It was fine.

“Tenko, I had no... you know that would never happen, right? That wasn’t your fault, sweetheart.” Tenko frowned as the tears kept coming, and he pulled his hands back to wipe his eyes harshly.

“But I did it deliberately, my... Dad came out and he hit me and so I killed him. How do I... I’m not a good person, I—“

“No, stop that right there,” Inko said sternly, turning Tenko’s face to look at her.

“You were traumatised, Tenko. And even then, children don’t understand the concept of death, no matter how smart they are.” Her stern expression melted into a gentle smile as Tenko hiccupped, and her thumb glided over his cheek to wipe the tears there.

“You are a good person, I can see it all over your face. I know you’d never hurt us, you’d never hurt anyone...” she trailed off slightly, clearly overwhelmed, clearly struggling to wrap her head around the topic, and Tenko felt guilt rise in his chest. He was dumping all his problems on her again, just like he’d always done, she’d probably have been better off if she’d left him in that alley like everyone else had, at least then he’d—

He was cut off when Inko pulled him to her, hugging him close and petting the back of his head gently with her hand. She was warm, almost suffocatingly so, and Tenko blinked hard shock out of his eyes.

“I love you. Izuku does too, and he admires you so much. You’re a good person, Tenko. We’ve both known that since the first day we met you.” Tenko felt the tears well up all over again as he buried his face into Inko’s shoulder, his hands finally moving to grip the fabric of the cardigan she was wearing. His breathing was erratic and he hiccupped as he cried into Inko’s shoulder, but she didn’t push him away.

She held him close, her hand still carting gently through his hair, until finally his tears settled. He could hear his heartbeat thumping in his head, could feel his breathing shudder on its way out of his chest, but he felt loved. In that moment, he thought that Inko would probably never push him away, no matter how dangerous he was.

“I’m... I love you too,” he whispered, and he swore he heard Inko’s breathing stop for a moment, before the arms around him tightened. When he pulled back Inko was smiling, tears pricking in her eyes that she quickly tried to hide.

“You should get to bed,” she muttered into the crook of her elbow, still trying to hide her face, and then Tenko smiled as he stood. She followed him dotingly into his room, watched over him as he climbed up into his bed, and when he laid down and rolled over to face her through the bars, she smiled again.

“Sweet dreams, Tenko.” He yawned, his exhaustion finally making itself apparent once he was comfortable in his bed, but as Inko turned to leave, he spoke.

“G’night, Mom.” His eyes were already drifting closed, but he saw her look back and smile brightly from the doorway between his sluggish blinks. Unbidden, a small smile tugged the corners of Tenko’s mouth, and he drifted to sleep with a comforting warmth in his heart.

Chapter 8: You looked so good in green

Chapter Text

Izuku was in fourth grade when Tenko decided he’d had enough. His brother met Tenko at the front gates of his school drenched in water, teeth chattering against the frigid winter air, and Tenko grit his teeth.

“Where the hell is Katsuki?” He asked, pushing the soaked kid behind him instinctively as he scanned the yard for that familiar shock of blond hair, but Izuku gripped the sleeve of his uniform.

“Don’t, Tenko-nii, I already, um, got mad at him for it.” Izuku looked resigned, ready to go home, and Tenko felt frustration make his palms clammy.

“The teachers should get mad at him for it!” Izuku’s lip wobbled, but he didn’t speak, turning and starting to walk home. Tenko looked between his brother and the schoolyard hesitantly, searching in vain for Katsuki, but ended up huffing in annoyance and jogging to catch up to Izuku.

They walked silently side by side, and when they got on the train, Tenko tapped Izuku’s shoulder to get his attention.

“We should talk to Mom about this,” he said over the crowd, gesturing to Izuku’s soaked uniform, and Izuku’s eyes went wide. He grabbed Tenko’s sleeve, tugging on it incessantly as he spoke, much too fast and quiet for Tenko to hear over the crowd. He raised an eyebrow, and Izuku took a shaky breath.

“Don’t, please! She won’t understand, Kacchan needs me. Nobody else is going to stop him.” Tenko’s eyes softened, and the hand on his brother’s shoulder shook him affectionately.

“That isn’t your job, Izuku. You don’t need to be the one to teach him that if it just ends in you getting hurt,” Tenko scolded, and Izuku shook his head, almost as if he blatantly didn’t understand what Tenko was saying. As if self-preservation didn’t compute in that over-worked brain of his.

“I don’t mind, Nii-chan. Kacchan’s my best friend. What he’s doing isn’t right, I just want him to know that.” Izuku pouted cutely, as if to him they were discussing a minor upset and not several years of bullying.

“Still, he doesn’t have the right to hurt you.”

“I don’t care what happens to me, so it’s okay. Kacchan is so amazing at everything except this one thing so I... I want to stay friends with him, I want to see how strong he can get!” Izuku looked happy, proud even, but Tenko couldn’t stop the blatant horror seeping across his features. Did he really have so little value for his own life?

Tenko found himself opening and closing his mouth, trying in vain to figure out the right words to say, but they wouldn’t come to him. He knew Inko was possibly worse at it than even he was, but hopefully Izuku would at least listen to her. The level of self-sacrificial trauma he was putting himself through for his ‘friend’ couldn’t be right at all.

The train ride home was silent after that, though Tenko could feel Izuku’s eyes flicking up to him nervously. Tenko knew that if he looked down and made eye contact he’d be pretty much helpless against those teary green irises, so he kept his gaze firmly ahead, red eyes blazing with a sense of injustice that heated him from the inside out.

When they arrived home Inko was waiting to greet them, wearing a smile that quickly dropped when she saw her two sons’ expressions. Then, she noticed the trail of water that Izuku had tracked in behind him and sucked in a breath.

“Oh, Izuku! Go get changed and shower, you must be freezing!” She ushered him through the house and into the bathroom, ignoring his attempts to get her to stop until the door was closed firmly behind him. Tenko mopped up the water with a tea towel, and then sat at the bench opposite Inko.

“Was it Katsuki?” She said quietly, drying off her hands from where holding Izuku had made her damp, and Tenko grit his teeth.

“Yes. Izuku wouldn’t let me go after him, he said it was fine because he wanted to help Katsuki.” Inko frowned and mouthed the word ‘help’ to herself silently, so Tenko doubled down on his point. “It isn’t fine.”

“Why does he think Katsuki needs help?” She questioned, still quiet, still passive. If Tenko didn’t care for her so much, he might accuse her then and there of being far too emotionally neglectful of Izuku. A kid with dreams and healthy self-worth would never do the things Izuku did. But he did love her, so he didn’t bring the fleeting comment into the open.

“Because what Katsuki is doing is wrong, Izuku says he’s the only one that will actually try to stop him. He wants to help him get better again, or something.” Tenko scrunched up his nose, but Inko only sighed, wringing her wrists.

“Isn’t that... heroic, of him? I mean, isn’t that what good heroes do? I don’t know if we can stop him.” Tenko clenched his fists, feeling his frustration build as he tried to find the words to communicate how he felt. How wrong it felt, to let his brother go back over and over into that situation knowing that he made virtually no difference.

He felt like a hypocrite, because hadn’t he wanted the heroes to put themselves in danger to help him? Hadn’t he hated them for leaving him? Yet when it was his brother that embodied everything Tenko believed a hero should be, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so good anymore.

“Not... not when he’s still only nine! He shouldn’t be this sacrificial. It isn’t... I don’t like it. I don’t like letting him go to school when I know he’s just going to keep doing this to himself.” Inko smiled fondly, reaching forward to ruffle his hair.

“You’ve always been very protective of him, Tenko. I know how you feel. Maybe... well, I’ve been thinking about—“

“Wait, stop talking about me!” Izuku came charging out of the bathroom in shorts and a dumb t-shirt that had ‘tank top’ written on it in scrawled kanji, jumping up at the counter and scrabbling into a seat.

“I heard you talking, but it’s fine, you don’t get it! I know it’s bad, but Kacchan is so amazing, Mom. He’s so strong, and...” Izuku trailed off, wringing his wrists in a tiny imitation of Inko’s own nervous habits, then he steeled his gaze as he met Tenko’s eyes.

“Kacchan isn’t a bad person. He... isn’t a good person right now, maybe, and he does some bad things, but I know he isn’t a bad person. He just needs help noticing it, because I know once he realises he’ll try to be nice again.” Izuku seemed so honest, so wistful and hopeful and entirely enraptured by his supposed best friend, and Tenko grit his teeth.

“But you don’t need to, Izuku.”

“Yeah, honey. I was already thinking about moving house anyway, since Tenko is going into high school in April next year and will probably need his own room. If you want, you could move schools. Nobody would ever blame you for that.” Izuku looked shocked, momentarily distracted from the conversation as he looked around the room.

Tenko was shocked too, he knew they weren’t exactly well off, he’d assumed that he would probably end up in a bunk bed until he moved out. They didn’t have the money for a three bedroom house as it stood, and Tenko didn’t want to be the reason that Inko would need to stretch herself even thinner at work.

He looked at Inko, eyes portraying his worry and guilt at the idea, so she waved him off quietly and mouthed the words ‘talk later’. Izuku looked back at them, forlorn from reminiscing about the house, and finally remembered the subject of the conversation.

“Ah, no! I don’t want to, Mom, please!” Izuku cried, tears welling up at the concept as he pressed his hands down on the counter. “Kacchan is my best friend.” He reiterated, and Inko sighed. Tenko’s head swivelled to look at her, eyes wide as hers closed softly. When they opened she looked tired, resigned, and Tenko shook his head slowly, knowing what she was going to say.

“Okay. I just want you to be happy, Izuku.” Izuku smiled and practically jumped over the counter to hug her, but it was all background noise to Tenko.

Seriously? So Katsuki would just have no consequences then, he’d continue to get to torture Izuku and nobody, not even Izuku’s own mother, was going to stop him? Maybe the idea made him mad because he found it too similar to his own life before his quirk manifested. Maybe Tenko felt the urge to step in because he wished someone had done the same for him, maybe he wanted Inko to get Izuku away from the problem like he’d wanted his mom to get he and Hana away from his father all those years ago.

No matter the explanation, Tenko was mad, and he knew that if Izuku couldn’t stop it, if the adults were going to stand by and do nothing once again, he’d have to take matters into his own hands. He was fourteen, not five, he could do something for himself.

He stood from the counter and stormed toward the front door, ignoring his mother’s calls as he threw it open and stepped out onto the street. Katsuki and his minions would be at the park by now, probably waiting for Izuku to show up so that they could pick on him again.

Tenko pulled on the hem of his left glove, feeling it snap back into place against his wrist as he walked. They’d have another thing coming. When Tenko caught sight of the three kids in the park he broke into a run, swinging around the gate and slowing his pace to approach the kids intimidatingly.

“Katsuki!” He yelled, and the blond turned to face him, crimson eyes widening as they landed on Tenko. He raised a hand as Tenko moved closer, very obviously planning to try and blow him up, so Tenko broke into a run, dodged around his tiny arm as he passed, and pushed the back of Katsuki’s head, causing the kid to stumble forward. Even the act of touching another person with this rage behind his eyes made his itch spike, those intrusive thoughts taking one glance at Katsuki and muttering about how easy it would be to just—

Tenko hadn’t gotten in a fight since grade school. It’d been building for a while, and that fact alone was enough to give Tenko goosebumps. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

He’d been working on his speed in preparation for the Yuuei entrance exam, he figured that since his quirk couldn’t be used on people, he’d need to be good in hand to hand combat in case he ended up needing to step in. So he knew how to be non-lethal.

“What is your problem with Izuku?!” Katsuki turned around angrily, fists clenched at his sides.

“He’s stupid and doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing!” Katsuki growled, and Tenko shook his head as he stepped forward, raising a hand threateningly. He would never use his quirk on or even around a kid anymore, even Izuku hadn’t seen it in action since the day Tenko had first met the Midoriya’s, and Tenko wanted to keep it that way.

“If anyone doesn’t know what they’re doing it’s you, dumbass! You keep talking about being a hero but you’re just a bully!” Katsuki’s gaze flamed at that, the kid darting forward and setting off an explosion point-blank range from Tenko’s chest. Tenko put his hands up to protect his face, and when the smoke cleared, one of his gloves was burned through the middle, effectively useless as it slumped and fell off of his hand.

Tenko felt the anxiety spike in his chest at the sight of his free hand, and clearly there was something deranged in his eyes because when he looked to Katsuki, palms raised and sweating, the kid backed up.

“Tell your nerd brother to stop following me around and acting like he’s better than me, stupid Deku needs to learn his place.” Tenko swallowed and clenched his free hand into a fist, holding it rigidly at his side. Tenko’s gloves were expensive, he could already feel the guilt that would arise later when Inko would need to spend some of their dwindling funds from Hisashi on a new one.

“Real heroes protect people, moron. You want to win, that’s fine, but if you beat up every single person who opposes you then you won’t even make it to high school, you’ll probably drop out and go to prison like every other crappy delinquent.” Katsuki faltered a little at that, and Tenko shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking at the ground as he walked away.

“Just stop picking on Izuku. I’ll turn all your action figures to dust.” Tenko did feel bad, threatening kids like that, but it was for Izuku’s sake. It wasn’t like he actually hurt any of them, and if he was lucky maybe Katsuki would actually listen to another person for once.

“What, you scared, stupid Tenko? If either of us is gonna be a villain it’ll be you, and then I’ll kill you!” Katsuki yelled, and Tenko rolled his eyes. The Midoriyas were rubbing off on him too much, he was being way too optimistic in regards to this blond brat.

“That would make you a criminal. Heroes aren’t allowed to deliberately kill people.” Katsuki clenched his fists and charged again, but this time Tenko dodged, grabbed his forearm with his gloved hand, and swung him away. He didn’t fall or anything, only tripped and stumbled, but the rage in his eyes would make you think that Tenko had just brutally murdered everyone he cared about.

Katsuki charged forward again, and Tenko grinned as he pressed the flat of his palm to the blond’s forehead, holding him back as his palms popped harmlessly.

“Stop embarrassing yourself. If you want to be a good hero, you need to start by being a good person.” Tenko pushed him back and quickly walked away before Katsuki could chase him, and he heard the muffled laughter of Katsuki’s lackeys, followed by explosions and harsh shouting.

As Tenko walked he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it in favour of cradling his uncovered hand in a fist in front of him. He had a spare pair of gloves, he could probably switch into one of them and not mention it. If he brought it up then Inko would immediately want to get a new one, and they both knew that they couldn’t afford that.

As he walked down the hall of their apartment building, dreading the return to his no doubt worried mom and brother, he sighed to himself. He knew he had a grudge against Katsuki, that was kind of obvious, and he regretted getting into a fight with him. Tenko was fourteen, Katsuki had only just turned ten. He was still just a dumb kid in need of guidance, and Tenko wasn’t exactly helping with that.

But on the other hand, Izuku was more important to him than anything else in the universe.

Izuku was every bit the hero Tenko wanted to be, selfless and positive and inspiring, willing to do whatever it took even though the idea of him getting hurt chilled Tenko to the bone. Small, sweet, innocent, Izuku was Tenko’s very own younger sibling, he was determined to look after him. Keep him safe like Hana had failed to do for him.

...And he knew that was an unfair comparison, his therapist had warned against the spite that was building around the image of his sister, there was nothing she could’ve done. She had been about as old as Izuku was now, Tenko shouldn’t blame her for what happened. So he didn’t. He didn’t blame her, but he would still do better than she did. Than any of his family did.

He just wanted Izuku to be safe and happy, and he didn’t think that being around Katsuki helped with either of those things.

Tenko raised his hand to knock feebly on the door, but it was flung open before his fist had even hit the door a third time, revealing Inko standing wide eyed and ready. She immediately pulled Tenko into a hug and he grunted, but wrapped his safe hand around her waist. He saw Izuku in the hall over her shoulder, so he held up his uncovered hand and pointed to it with the other, mouthing the word ‘glove’ to his little brother. Izuku’s eyes widened, not knowing what exactly Tenko’s quirk did but knowing it was dangerous to have his hands free, and rushed to their room to bring him a spare glove.

Inko apologised into Tenko’s shoulder, leaving tear stains on the fabric of his shirt as Tenko accepted the glove from Izuku’s hands and put it on behind Inko’s back. He pulled out of Inko’s hug after that, newly covered hands on her shoulders as his anxiety settled back down in the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t apologise, Mom. I was being stupid. It’s not... I mean, I don’t agree with what...” Tenko trailed off, unable to communicate his contradictory opinion, and huffed. “I shouldn’t have run off. I don’t think... I don’t like that Izuku is still going to be around Katsuki, though. It isn’t safe, Katsuki is only going to get stronger and angrier as time goes on.”

Inko bit her lip, her eyes saying that she agreed even as she turned to let Tenko into the house. Izuku ran up to him after that, wrapping his tiny, skinny arms around Tenko’s waist and sniffing.

“That was scary, Nii-chan. Don’t do that again please,” he pouted, voice uncharacteristically stern but wobbly as he held back tears. Tenko rubbed his face awkwardly, then patted Izuku on the back and moved him away.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and then turned back to his mom. He opened his mouth to speak, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that if he demanded Izuku move schools then Inko would do it, yet also knowing that Izuku would hate him for that.

“Please don’t make me move! I’ll be stronger, so that I can make Kacchan stop, okay? Nii-chan can teach me fighting!” Izuku begged before Tenko could get a word in, and both Inko and Tenko sighed at once.

“Izuku, that’s not—“

“Please?! I’m the only one that knows Kacchan, he isn’t even that bad anymore! He hasn’t even touched me since the uniform thing, I swear!” Katsuki had burned a handprint onto Izuku’s shirt on their first day of third grade, and Izuku had insisted it had been an accident. Tenko couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“I know why he’s like this, okay? So I know how to help.” Tenko huffed and turned to Inko, eyes pleading for her to back him up, but Inko’s gaze was set on Izuku as she sighed.

“We will be moving houses, the two of you barely have enough space in your room as it is, and Tenko won’t fit in a bunk bed much longer.” Tears sprang into Izuku’s eyes at that, already assuming the worst for himself as he opened his mouth to speak, but Tenko saw the deflated look on Inko’s face. Dread seeped into his veins as she clenched her hand into a fist, released it, and pressed it firmly onto the kitchen bench.

“The two of you can stay at the schools you’re at now, we probably won’t move very far. But Izuku, you aren’t allowed to be around Katsuki outside of school unless myself or Tenko is present, got it? And Tenko, if you run off like that again—actually, if either of you ever run off... you’ll be grounded. Indefinitely.” Tenko groaned and flopped down into one of the kitchen stools, the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes to try and hold back the red hot tears threatening to escape.

He wasn’t going to cry about it.

Izuku could—Inko knew best, right? And surely the teachers would help keep Izuku safe in class. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but it would hopefully still be better. Inko looked close to tears from the simple act of scolding them, and Tenko couldn’t help the little spike of guilt in his chest. He didn’t want her to have to feel like that.

“Okay. I promise,” he said, and when Inko opened her arms a little both Tenko and Izuku rushed forward to hug her. He could...

They could deal with this.

= = =

Tenko knew that his family couldn’t afford actual self defence classes—they hadn’t been able to afford his therapy since halfway through first year after he’d turned thirteen and the price had gone up—so after school every day he would pick up Izuku, and then they’d go watch a class through the window.

It was probably illegal, but nobody seemed to bat an eye at the two kids hanging from windowsills and mock-fighting each other. They didn’t look at all like siblings or like classmates, their different uniforms made that clear, but nobody gave them a second glance. Tenko took it as reassurance of the broken system they lived in, that nobody questioned the scarred fourteen year old and the tiny, frail grade schooler standing around alone, and it motivated him to get stronger. Be the change you wish to see, and all that jazz.

“Don’t bend your wrist like that,” Tenko corrected his brother as they copied the punching drills from inside, and Izuku pouted before he straightened out his arm. “You’ll just hurt yourself, it’s gotta be a straight line.” Tenko demonstrated, arms held up in a block over his face, and he shifted his feet before quickly bringing his right fist down and jabbing it forward harshly. Tenko spun around and held up his hand, indicating for his brother to make an attempt.

Izuku copied him, and his technique was pretty good for a barely-ten year old, but as expected there was no power behind his skinny arms.

“You should maybe focus on kicks.” Izuku stuck out his tongue, and then pointedly turned to face Tenko, stepped back into a fighting stance, and roundhouse kicked him in the butt.

They spent almost all of Tenko’s second year in that routine, and eventually Izuku stopped meeting Tenko at the gate with bruises on his arms, insisting that Katsuki had started picking fights less often so Izuku didn’t get involved very much. Izuku still spent almost every free minute at his side, and Tenko had no doubt that he was teased relentlessly, but it was better. Marginally. Tenko started his final year of middle school with determination coiled between his muscles, and before he knew it his class was discussing their future plans.

When he announced that he wanted to go to Yuuei for highschool there were mixed reactions from his class, but his teacher had only hummed.

“Well, you get good grades and you have a strong quirk, I don’t see any harm in trying.” Sayaka, Mahiru and Chihiro had congratulated him and chattered excitedly, teasing him about being a future hero until his face was red and hidden behind his hands.

Before he knew it, Tenko was walking through the gates of Yuuei in his clean-pressed middle school uniform, looking around at all the other people who’d be trying out for the hero course that day. There had to be thousands of kids from all across the country, all there for a chance at the greatest hero course in Japan.

Tenko had done everything he could to prepare, he was confident enough in his hand to hand combat that if the exam involved fighting people, he believed he could do okay. He was still unsure about whether okay was enough for Yuuei, though.

But Tenko knew he needed to get in. Not only was it what his brother expected of him, but it was the most well known school in the country. Being a UA graduate practically garanteed a spot in the top 500 so long as you kept working, he’d done the maths. Tenko needed to be popular to have the power he needed to make changes.

Tenko paused outside the Yuuei building and pulled out his phone to take a photo of it. Depending on how this went, it might be his only chance to get this close. And Izuku would want to see.

He aimed the camera up at the building and took a step back, colliding into something behind him. There was a yelp of shock as the person fell over, and Tenko immediately turned around to help them.

“Oh, are you okay?” He said, reaching down to help them up, when a pair of startling yellow eyes locked onto his own. The girl let out a hiss of fear as her eyes rolled back, and then she was frozen in place, eyes wide and completely white. People gathered around them as Tenko stood frozen, staring down at the girl sitting on the floor.

Her dark hair swept back down over her left eye as her entire body shook, and Tenko could see the tears running from the one that was still visible. He knelt down and looked around for help, but the rest of the students seemed just as puzzled as he did, and there were no adults in sight. Just as he leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder, her eyes snapped back into focus and she lurched forward, collapsing on the floor and letting out a heavy, wailing sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” She gagged, hands twisted in her hair as she sobbed hysterically, and Tenko remained frozen in place as the crowd around him grew more frantic. Finally, someone seemed to realise that Tenko had no idea what to do, and a boy with a shock of red hair stepped forward.

“What happened?” He said, rubbing awkward, comforting circles into the girl’s back, and her sobs slowly began to lessen as she turned to bury her face in his shoulder.

“I don’t know! She fell over, and then when we made eye contact it was like she froze and her eyes went white, and now she’s—“ the girl sat up straight, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes before turning to face Tenko. Her fringe swept into her face again, but it didn’t stop Tenko from feeling a chill run down his spine at the sight of her glowing yellow iris, divided in half by a slit shaped pupil.

“I’m so sorry. That’s... I’m so sorry nobody helped you,” she whispered shakily, reaching forward to hug Tenko. He immediately flinched and scrabbled for hold on her arms to get her off, but then she leaned to ramble shakily in his ear.

“My quirk, uh, it makes me live people’s most traumatic experiences if I look them in the eye. I didn’t mean to do it, usually my hair covers one of my eyes so that it doesn’t work, but...” she pulled back, hands still shifting and reaching for things, though she made a conscious decision not to touch anything. “I didn’t mean to...” she seemed to finally notice the other boy kneeling off to the side, and she cleared her throat and stood, pulling Tenko to his feet.

“I’m, uh... my name is Hayashi Hana. Sorry about... well, all of that. I’m usually better at avoiding it, aha,” she laughed awkwardly, and her eyes—well, the one that was visible at least—was still red and full of sorrow when it met Tenko’s. He was in shock, horror holding him in place as his mind raced through every little consequence that could come from someone—a potential future classmate, no less—knowing what he had done.

Would she tell people? He hadn’t remembered to respond, so the awkward silence lingered until the other boy coughed.

“Nice to meet you, Hayashi-san! I’m Mori Akahito! Which courses are you two going for?” He said, grinning and flashing straight teeth with pointed canines. Hayashi looked at Tenko, motioning for him to speak, and he shook himself out of his daze.

“I’m Midoriya. Tenko. Trying out for the hero course,” he said bluntly, but it didn’t stop Mori’s eyes from shining.

“Really? Me too! What’s your quirk, I bet it has something to do with your hands, right? You must be so powerful!” He gushed, reaching forward to grab one of Tenko’s hands in his own, and Tenko wrenched it back with a sneer. Hayashi looked at him worryingly, before her eyes widened in recognition of Tenko’s actions and she grabbed Mori’s hand herself instead.

“I’m going for the hero course too! Well, mainly. I’m trying out for all the courses, I just... really need to get in.” The other two talked easily as Tenko drifted beside them, massaging out his left palm as he looked into the middle distance. Hayashi knew what he’d done. Nobody aside from Inko, the police, and Tenko himself had known of that day for almost a decade.

As they separated to find their assigned seats for the exam, Tenko found himself relieved as the tension of waiting for her reaction uncoiled from his stomach. Tenko found his seat, looking around the massive exam room packed with people from all across the country, all fighting for one of only forty spots in the next year’s hero course.

He thought of Hayashi, who’s quirk made her essentially quirkless on the battlefield but who had clear, selfless motivation to help, and Mori, relatively mysterious but with a personality that could make him a clear pick for a top hero, if he was as powerful as he had guessed Tenko was.

He found himself daydreaming about attending classes with them, it would be nice to start the school year alongside people he already knew—however tenuous their relationship might be. The lights in the hall shut off suddenly, spotlights swinging dramatically before they pointed down to illuminate the stage below.

Chapter 9: I hope you’re well

Chapter Text

Tenko watched the stage with bated breath as the volume in the hall rose to an excited murmur, speculating on which of Yuuei’s elite faculty would be giving the presentation. From what he’d read of Izuku’s notes on the options, he had a pretty good idea of who it would end up being.

“Gooood morning, listeners! Welcome to Yuuei highschool! I’ll be your host and exam monitor for today, Present Mic!” A man with blond hair that added about two feet to his already-impressive height stepped into view on the stage, waving to the crowd like he was MCing a concert rather than monitering an exam. Everyone remained silent in response, but the man continued unperturbed.

“Today we’ll be starting you off with the practical exam! If you look up at the screen here...” Tenko tuned out the obnoxious voice as he looked at the screen, where a mini icon of Present Mic was shown walking around a city landscape and attacking robots. It was an incredibly simple concept for an exam that was supposed to pick fourty of the countries greatest future heroes, but as Tenko tried to find some kind of hidden extra part to it, the answer clicked in the back of his mind.

The simplicity of the exam was it’s greatest challenge. You only had one shot, and it was entirely focused on high-power battle quirks. If someone happened to be born with a psychological quirk, healing quirk, or any kind of mutation or transmutation that didn’t increase their strength, they wouldn’t pass, with no regard to how powerful their quirk would be in an actual fight. Tenko would do amazing, sure, his quirk was incredibly destructive and he was lucky enough that he wouldn’t put any human beings in danger using it, but that girl he’d met outside? The one who was so determined to be a hero, after everything she’d probably seen? She didn’t stand a chance.

Tenko listened absently as Present Mic explained the differences between the different robots, then checked the letter on his entry card when prompted. D, and when he peeked at the cards of the people next to him it became clear that they’d be intentionally split so that they wouldn’t be in the same area as someone they might know. They were filed out of the hall and toward the change room, where Tenko put on simple sweatpants, sneakers and a tank top, gloves still clinging to his palms. Tenko hung back from the group as they walked to their designated fake city block, picking at the rim of his gloves.

He’ll have to take them off, in the middle of this crowded group of people. He’ll have to leave the deadly weapons that are his hands out in the open during a time where every instinct will try and get him to push through the crowd, where there will be dozens of people actively reaching to touch him and knocking against him. Where any movement could result in death. Tenko pulled up the edge of his glove and let it slap harshly back against his wrist, letting the sting keep him in reality. He’ll keep them on until the last possible second.

“Yo! Midoriya, right?” A familiar voice called, and Tenko turned to find the red-headed boy from earlier walking toward him, a smile and wave at the ready. He had changed clothes, no longer in a middle school uniform and instead sporting sneakers, shorts, and a track hoodie. Tenko couldn’t remember his name so he just gave an awkward half smile, though the other boy apparently saw right through him.

“Mori Akihito,” he reminded with a smile, and Tenko nodded politely. Mori, remember that.
“Super excited to see your quirk in action, man!” Tenko breathed a laugh as he tucked his hands under his armpits, and just as he was about to actually attempt conversation, a horn blared.

“Go!” Nobody moved despite the order from the voice, and Present Mic appeared on top of the building at their side.

“What, are you waiting for a countdown? There are no countdowns on the battlefield, go, go, go!” The pack of students raced into the fake city, and Mori gave Tenko a casual two-finger salute before running forward, reaching his hands toward the nearest visible robot, and suddenly rocketing toward it. He extended his leg out as he met the bot, the momentum behind his kick strong enough to send his foot straight through its metal chest and out the other side. Mori landed awkwardly as the bot fell, hopping on one leg as he pulled the other back out of the sparking carcass and muttered to himself. Tenko watched him point two hands forward and rocket away again before he finally snapped back into it.

His gloves would need to come off.

Tenko ran toward the first robot he saw, a two pointer that was standing awkward and lonely in the middle of the street, and with a deep breath he peeled his glove from his right hand and stuck it in his pocket. The left one came next, and then Tenko was within range of the robot, feeling his anxiety spike as its scorpion-like tail reared up to attack. He ducked under its swing, jumping up to plant a bare palm in the middle of the yellow 2 on its side and running off before he could see his quirk’s effects. He heard silence fall behind him as the robot was no longer able to function, and mentally tallied his two point score.

He ran around like that for the most part, finding bots that were isolated from the general crowd, weaving around their attacks and slapping their hulking forms before running away. He didn’t really want to watch anything decay, and he didn’t have the time for it either. Judging by his (admittedly unreliable) internal clock, about four of the allotted ten minutes had passed when he happened upon his first rescue opportunity.

Some kid was knocked out, whether from exhaustion, stress, or as a direct result of the bots Tenko couldn’t tell, but he was surrounded. Two one-pointers and a two-pointer stood around the unconscious form of what looked like a boy, maybe slightly taller than five foot and certainly not at all capable of protecting himself in his state. Tenko bit his lip as he ran toward them, sneaking quietly around to slap each of the three bots.

Logically, he could’ve just run off right then. Gone after more bots and left this kid in the middle of the street. No skin off his back, right? The bots were probably programmed to leave unconscious people alone.

Then again, maybe they weren’t, and after a brief moment of hesitation as Tenko eyed a particularly menacing three point robot down the street, he slipped his gloves back on. Just for a second.

Tenko picked up the unconscious boy, an easy feat considering that he was barely taller than Izuku, and quickly rushed to the nearest building. He went up a story, just to be safe, and deposited the kid on a couch before running back out. The three-pointer was already reduced to a pile of rubble, but there was a two point robot waiting on the other end of the street.

“Five minutes remaining!” Present Mic’s voice called over the arena, and Tenko could feel the tension pick up around him. He’d barely encountered any other students (granted, he was actively trying to avoid them) but he could feel the stakes rising as the timer—and the number of remaining robots—went down. Tenko had twenty-two points to his name, then he slapped that two pointer and added that to his tally. Twenty-four was respectable, wasn’t it? He had no clue what the threshold was.

More importantly, the ash from his quirk combined with the spring winds was creating a heavy fog throughout the part of the cityscape he was occupying, the dust in the air getting in his eyes and drying out his throat. Tenko decided to move away from his isolated corner, trading better eyesight for coming into contact with more students. Ultimately, his likelihood of accidentally hitting another person was probably the same in both scenarios.

Tenko ran back toward the middle of the city, saving a few people who were trapped beneath robots and rubble on his way, when the ground began to shake. Tenko’s hands instinctively closed into fists and tucked under his armpits, holding them out of the open in case the shaking made him touch something he shouldn’t. There was a harsh tearing sound, like concrete and metal grinding against each other, and then the screams came. Tenko kept his hands close as he moved toward the sound, keeping buildings between himself and the cause as he moved.

What was happening? Did someone’s quirk go haywire? Were there students fighting each other? Was this a feature of the exam, or was it some kind of major f*ck up? Tenko pressed his back to a building and turned to peek around the corner, gasping audibly at the sight before him.

There was a massive robot pulling itself from beneath the ground, and he really meant it when he said massive. The other bots had towered over Tenko, but this one was even taller than the empty high rise buildings surrounding them. It had a long, rectangular head with seven glowing, pulsating red eyes, and as Tenko watched with his breath caught in his chest it finally pulled itself free of the ground. Most of the students were already running to escape, and Tenko finally recognised the bot.

“So that’s the zero pointer, huh?” Tenko mused to himself as he looked the thing over. “Wasn’t exactly to scale on the pamphlet.” A bright laugh echoed from behind him, and Tenko turned to see Mori leaning on the wall at his side.

“I know, right? They probably should’ve warned us about this guy.” Tenko blinked, puzzled as to how he’d gotten there so silently, and then sighed as he beckoned the boy to peak around the wall with him. The bot was slow, its body large enough that its feet left dents in the roads and its shoulders scraped the walls on either side. The bot was slow, but its strength was undeniable, everything that ended up beneath its arms or feet was destroyed whether it be rubble, smaller bots, or...

Tenko’s gaze finally caught on a figure waiting on the road, ankle trapped beneath a chunk of rubble that appeared to have fallen from the building above. The zero point robot was moving steadily closer as the tugged at their leg and reached out to passing examinees, but barely any of them spared a glance. Those that did look back seemed sympathetic, but in the end they all kept running. It was logical, Tenko knew, there was no way even Yuuei could get away with a student being crushed in their exam, that examinee would most likely be fine. And yet...

“Hey, how many points do you have?” Mori said suddenly, and Tenko raised an eyebrow at him before tucking his hands away and turning back to keep an eye on the bot. He had thirty-one, but he didn’t want to give away his score in case Mori’s was higher.

“...Forty. Why?” Mori’s face split into a wide smile and he clapped Tenko on the back, jabbing a thumb at himself.

“Oh, I have fifty! So, we’re both probably good... you wanna take out the big one?” Mori’s smile was infectious, red hair whipping in the same wind that had stirred up the ash from Tenko’s quirk. Despite all that Tenko just rolled his eyes, walking away from the building to head back out away from the bot.

“No thanks,” he said bluntly, and Mori caught him by the shoulder.

“C’mon, it’ll be cool, right?” He looked excited, and his smile reminded Tenko a little bit of Izuku, but he pressed his lips into a thin line and pulled away from the other student harshly.

“Listen, that thing is basically worthless in this exam. Only the top forty people are getting into the hero course, and since we’re in group D, there are at least three other sets of hundreds of people competing that we can’t see. If you want to get in, you can’t waste your time on stupid sh*t. I’m gonna focus on the exam, you can do what you want,” Tenko huffed, upper lip curling in distaste as he walked away. Tenko shot a glance back over his shoulder to see Mori sigh dejectedly, but he didn’t push the issue.

Tenko’s gaze drifted and he saw that same examinee from earlier, still crying out trapped beneath rubble as the zero point robot got closer. Logically, the student would be safe, but still... there were tears on their face and they were clearly in pain, that student didn’t seem to be able to come to the same conclusion Tenko had earlier through their panic.

They were fearing for their life, and Tenko couldn’t just leave them with that, so he turned and ran past them, swiping his fingertips along the rubble that held them down as he went. Once he was safe on the other side of the road he looked back, watching as the last of the debris decayed and the examiner pulled themselves out of the bot’s warpath, standing shakily against a building. Tenko let his gaze drift, watching Mori rub his hands together as he eyed the zero point bot. Tenko huffed to himself as he spun on his heel and ran away from the havoc of the central block, red eyes on keen lookout for other students and other bots as he went.

He amassed another five points in the minute and a half he spent running around, his gaze always drifting back to where the massive head of the bot poked over the top of the central buildings. Vaguely he wondered what it was exactly that Mori was planning to do, considering that he’d wasted nearly a fifth of the exam apparently standing around and thinking.

Tenko’s eyes darted toward a two pointer standing menacingly opposite him and ran toward it, building enough momentum to run along the side of a building and jump toward the bot. His arm caught the stinger-like appendage on its back and he grabbed onto it, using his momentum to swing a forty five degree angle as his fingertips dragged along its pristine green metal. He landed on the ground a little awkwardly, losing the momentum from his swing as his feet skidded along the concrete, but he kept running, making a beeline for Mori.

All he planned to do was get the dumbass to stop trying with the zero pointer. As annoyingly optimistic and oblivious as he was, Tenko would still prefer to start high school with an acquaintance at least. He ran into a one-pointer on his way, darting awkwardly into a building to avoid its gun. He ran up the stairs and toward a large window situated directly above the bot, moving to press his palm to it before thinking better of it and opening the window normally. He didn’t want to bring the entire building down if his quirk happened to carry between the glass and the window’s wooden frame. He’s never practised with his quirk, he didn’t know what the threshold was for “whatever he was touching.” For all he knew, touching that window would destroy the entire fake city.

He stepped out of the window, sitting on the windowsill as the bot patrolled slowly forward, and then once it was directly beneath him he dropped. He landed on top of its head, and the bot’s mechanical whirring got louder as it noticed him, before falling silent as its head was caved in by Tenko’s persistent hands. Tenko slipped off of the bot before it could come crashing down completely, and then turned to keep running just in time to hear the ear-splitting sound of tearing metal from the middle of the fake city.

Tenko scrunched up his nose at the sound but turned to see nontheless, watching in horror as the massive zero point bot teetered in place. It rocked onto an angle, fell back, and then rocked over again, each time leaning further over than the last until it was clear that the bot was maybe a minute from toppling down. Tenko was aware of the fact that the UA faculty would never let a student be injured if they had control over it, but this was different. If a student was behind it (and Tenko has no doubt that Mori was the one behind the attempt to bring down the bot) then they might not get the opportunity to intervene, there may be students in danger that they wouldn’t be able to save.

Tenko was sprinting down the street, the heavy slap of his sneakers on ashphalt rendered almost inaudible compared to the hammering of his heart. His hands shook and his whole body itched as he went. He knew what he’d need to do, he’d need to channel his quirk enough to hit the bot on its way down and erase it completely before it could hit the ground. The only question was how to go about it. He could go up to the roof of a building, that would give him the advantage of more time before the bot hit the ground, but he might not make it up in time in the first place.

As Tenko ran he could see students escaping the situation, running frantically away from the estimated area of impact. Many of them seemed to have come to the same realisation as he had, trapped teenagers that would’ve been ignored earlier now being rescued and dragged from the wreckage by others. The entire situation spelled clear disaster, which brought a single, glaring question to the front of Tenko’s mind: why was Mori still doing it? Anybody with good intentions and half a brain would see the trouble they were causing and choose to take a different route, and yet the bot showed no signs of slowing its dangerous rocking.

Whatever, he could figure out the reason behind it later, rght now he just needed to act. Be a hero and all that jazz.

Tenko skidded to a stop in the middle of the street, spinning around to take in the scene. It seemed that everyone was evacuating the area, Tenko couldn’t see anyone around, but he couldn’t be certain. His red gaze landed on Mori, arms up and tongue between his teeth in concentration as he swung slowly back, forth, back, forth. Tenko snarled and clenched his hands into fists, stomping toward the obnoxious student.

“What are you doing, idiot!? Can’t you see that that thing’s gonna cause trouble!?” He shouted, and Mori’s eyes flicked toward him.

“Yeah, obviously. That’s why I’m bringing it down!”

“Bringing it down on top of everyone, you mean?” He scoffed, and Mori’s eyes widened as he pulled back one last time and his hands fell to his sides.

“Oh yeah, aha. I’m kinda one-track minded, I guess. Totally didn’t realise,” Mori rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and looked like he was about to apologise, but then there was a heavy creak behind them. Tenko turned and saw the bot beginning to fall, headed directly down the street where people were still dragging injured and unconscious students from the wreckage.

“Oh gods,” Tenko whispered, and when Mori followed his gaze up he took a sharp breath in.

“Run, Midoriya!” He shouted, shoving Tenko down into the street and lifting his arms again. Tenko stood frozen on the road, eyes up as he watched the bot tip, and then begin to veer away from the street, instead aiming to crash down on top of Mori as he pulled at it with whatever force his quirk produced.

“No, idiot!” Tenko shouted, motioning for him to move, but Mori’s eyes reflected panicked sorrow. The truth hit Tenko like a truck: Mori still needed to use his quirk, the bot hadn’t veered far enough to save everyone else yet, and he couldn’t move while it was in use. The bot swivelled, tipped, and Tenko let out a choked sound, feet pounding desperately against the pavement as he ran, turned, and jumped up toward it. His palm hit the smooth, green metal and pain jolted through him, forcing a cry from his lips as he felt the pressure of the bot pushing down on him. Then, abruptly, his quirk kicked in. There was a crash from further in front of him as the end of the robot hit the ground, but as he stood shivering, no weight came down on his shoulders.

By the time Tenko opened his eyes, there was nothing but a wide trail of ash left, remains of the bot fluttering gently from where it’d been desintegrated in mere seconds. Tenko turned to see Mori still standing tall, arms still raised as if his quirk was still active on an object that no longer existed. Slowly, his arms lowered, and a shaky smile pulled across his face.

“That was incredible,” he breathed, arms raising, reaching, pulling back in as if he still didn’t know what to do with himself. “Thank you. And sorry.” Tenko huffed, an annoyed scowl on his face, and then remembered the throbbing in his wrist and held the injured hand to his chest as he fished one of his gloves from his pocket. He slipped it carefully over the injured hand, resigning himself to not using it anymore, and then turned back to face Mori with a vengeance.

“You idiot! How dense would you have to be to not realise what you were doing!! And pulling it toward yourself, what were you thinking!? What’s your quirk?” Tenko demanded, jabbing a gloved finger on Mori’s chest, and the boy sighed.

“Magnetism. I can make any two objects like a north or south pole of a magnet, to make them get pulled together or pushed apart.” Tenko’s eyebrows raised, and he pulled his arm back to punch Mori in the shoulder.

“So why didn’t you push it away from you then!? Idiot! Do you not realise how many people you put in danger? And then yourself as well!” Mori pouted and rubbed dejectedly at his shoulder, refusing to meet Tenko’s gaze as he responded.

“The ‘pull together’ part of my quirk is stronger than the ‘push apart’ bit, I needed to make sure it worked. But, uh, yeah. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” Mori wrung his wrists in front of him, his once bright and excitable gaze still avoiding Tenko’s own, and Tenko sighed.

“Whatever.” Present Mic’s voice rang out through the arena, and Tenko turned away from the other examinee.

“One minute remaining, listeners! Rack up those final points while you can!” Tenko took a breath, and nodded awkwardly to the still star-struck boy before him.

“Don’t... do anything stupid. I’ll, uh, see you.” And with that eloquent display, he turned and ran, eyes peeled for any remaining bots. If his count was correct (and honestly it could be wrong, his brain wasn’t exactly running perfectly after that ordeal and he expected to crash once the adrenaline of the exam wore off), he had forty-eight points, but he didn’t want to take any chances. His heart was beating so fast it sounded almost like a blur in his ears, no longer the steady thud that kept him calm but an incessant buzz, like the wings of a hummingbird. Don’t stop moving, don’t stop thinking because if you stop, if you aren’t distracted, you’ll think too much about the feeling of something dissapearing beneath your palm, too much of the last time you destroyed this much matter in such a short amount of time.

Tenko only made up another two points, because his legs were too shaky and most of the bots he found were taken out before he could reach them. The alarm blared to signal the end of the exam, and Tenko dropped to his knees, then braced his neck and shoulder as he flopped onto his side. He pulled his knees to his chest, breath hitching harder as his eyes burned with unshed tears, and he fished his remaining glove from his pocket. Once his palms were covered he felt a bit better, the safety of that thin fabric between his fingertips and the rest of the world giving him enough security to wind his fingers tightly into the fabric of his pants as he clutched his legs, injured wrist forgotten.

His eyes were shut tight for who knows how long, trying his best to breathe and then failing as each hitch snatched the air from his lungs and left him swallowing heavily around nothing. He tried to wrangle his mind to coherency, tried to remind himself of who he was, where he was, remind himself that the solid ground beneath him wasn’t the dark, grimy concrete of a decade-forgotten alley but clean, new, safe. He could feel eyes on him and it made his heart stir harder, until he registered the snapping voice of an older woman through the haze of his mind. A small, cool hand lay gently on his arm, rubbing circles into his bicep with its thumb.

“Just breathe, it’s okay. In, hold, out.” Tenko complied with the voice until he could peel his eyes open, squinting up at the sunlight and then over his shoulder to the woman. She couldn’t be more than three feet tall, and her smile was thin and cautious as Tenko pushed himself to his feet.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and she shook his head.

“Nonsense, dear boy. You were in an incredibly high-stress situation. Let me see your hand.” Tenko blinked at the abrupt swerve in conversation, but held out his aching wrist to the woman anyway. She inspected it, rolled the glove gently up from his wrist while still keeping it over his fingers, and then hummed. She pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of his wrist, and Tenko felt the pain immediately begin to drain away, alongside his energy. She rolled his glove back down, pressed two gummies into his hand, and then gave him one last smile and a quiet order to make his way back to the hall as she shuffled away. Tenko complied, sticking the gummies in his mouth and chewing, keeping his mind occupied by the repetitive task as his hands sunk deep into his pockets and he went to change back into his uniform.

By the time he was sitting back in his place in the hall, his breaths were even and his head wasn’t churning quite so much, though he still vibrated with nerves at the idea of the written portion of the exam. He always had good grades, and he’d made sure to study ahead in the curriculum in case any of it popped up, yet he still found himself struggling. His main weakness was English, learning other languages didn’t come easily to Tenko, and the majority of the tests simply relied on him knowing the English words for things. Once the exam was complete, Tenko predicted that he’d probably be in the top fifteen or twenty percent for scores, his abysmal English result likely bringing down his total.

On his way home Tenko pulled with the straps on his backpack, swinging it between aching shoulders. The test had gone... mediocre, as a whole, he’d heard from the muttering crowds that the average practical exam result was around 30 points which he had well surpassed, but then again he wasn’t looking for the average. He’d need to be in the top 0.5% of the western half of Japan at least to be one of the 40 kids to get into Yuuei.

Tenko knocked on the door to his family’s apartment, and Izuku opened it with a smile on his face.

“What was it like? Is Yuuei cool!? Which hero did you have monitoring your exam, was it Present Mic? I bet it was Present Mic!!” Tenko laughed and moved Izuku out of the doorway by his head, stepping into the house and closing the door behind him with his hand still smushed against Izuku’s face until his shoes were off and he finally let up. His little brother immediately crashed into his side, arms wound tightly around his waist, and Tenko smiled.

“Yeah, it was cool. And yeah, we had Present Mic.” Izuku looked up at him with sparkling eyes, whipping his notebook out of somewhere and flipping to Present Mic’s page.

“What was he like?” Tenko frowned as he thought, bringing a hand to rub at the back of his head as he recounted the brief interaction he had with the hero.

“Loud”, he summarised blankly, and Izuku pouted at him as Inko peeked around the corner and smiled.

“Oh, welcome back Tenko! Dinner is almost ready, have a bath and then come tell us all about it!” Tenko nodded quietly as he walked into the house, weaving past his pouting little brother toward the bathroom. Tenko looked at himself in the mirror as he traded his thick black gloves for cheap plastic ones, eyes trained on the thin horizontal scars on his face and the thick vertical ones over his eye and mouth. He grimaced at himself, turning away from the mirror as he peeled himself out of his uniform and then stepped into the shower.

Tenko held his face up toward the stream of water, his bones too heavy to pull them through the effort of both a shower and a bath, so instead he stood still and let the water run the sweat and dirt from his skin. His hands felt dirty for the first time in a while, so he peeled his gloves off gently and held them up to the shower head, letting water run between his fingers and trying not to let his brain trick him into seeing that water running red. Forty-one points. Would it be enough? It had to be, getting to Yuuei, becoming a good hero was his only chance at the redemption he so desperately needed.

After what could’ve been hours (or maybe barely thirty seconds) he put his gloves back on, washing his damp, dust-filled hair before stepping out. Tenko wrapped himself in a towel to cross the hall as he put his regular gloves back on and flicked the plastic ones into the trash, then changed into a hoodie and shorts before stepping back into the dining area.

Inko looked up at him from behind the kitchen counter and smiled, beckoning him forward with a warmth that brought a soft smile to his lips too. Tenko slid into the kitchen to give Inko a side hug, and she looked at him in exaggerated shock, eyes narrowing suspiciously as she spoke.

“Are you taller than me?” She exclaimed, and Tenko’s eyes widened. Plenty of boys his age were already taller than their mothers, even if it was only by a bit, and he didn’t want to be the only one left out by highschool.

“Izuku, come check!” Izuku slid around the corner and Inko laughed as she and Tenko stood back to back, Tenko stretching as tall as he could—while keeping his heels on the ground, of course, he wasn’t a cheat—as Izuku studied them. He wandered forward, reaching up on his tip toes to put a hand on top of both of their heads, and then he huffed.

“Mom’s still taller,” he said, and Inko giggled as Tenko slumped his shoulders.

“Why do you sound dissapointed, Izuku?” Izuku just blinked as Tenko chuckled at him, and then the boys went to set the table as Inko turned off the stove. The three of them said their thanks, and then as Tenko and Izuku started digging in, Inko shifted her attention to her older son.

“So, how was the exam?”

“Uh, good. I think I did well on the practical, I had a bit of trouble with English in the written exam though, since it was mostly memory stuff.” Inko nodded in understanding, and Izuku slammed his hands down on the table.

“So? What was the practical exam like?” Tenko opened his mouth to speak, something vague about the point of the exam that he would tone down so as to not worry his mother, but instead he snapped it closed again. The exam was highly geared toward people with stereotypical destructive quirks, no amount of martial arts training would let Izuku punch quirkless through solid steel. There was the possibility of perhaps teaching him to disarm robots, but Tenko wouldn’t know the first thing about that, and it would hardly be faster than the people who could destroy a bot in under a second like himself.

Tenko’s left hand scrunched tighter under the table, and he gave his younger brother the most sympathetic look he could.

“They said we weren’t allowed to talk about it. They don’t want info about the exam getting out because it’s supposed to be a surprise for the examinees. You want to try out for Yuuei for high school, don’t you?” Izuku slumped in his chair and nodded dejectedly, and Tenko turned to catch his mother’s suspicious gaze. He might be able to lie to Izuku, but he couldn’t lie to Inko. Her eyes darted pointedly toward Izuku, Tenko shook his head, and then with a nod that meant “we’ll talk about this later”, Inko looked back down at her food.

“Ah, that’s okay then. We’ll just have to wait for the results to come back, won’t we?”

= = =

“Almost, it’s just this bit that you did wrong. This is a double negative, so it’s basically just addition.” Izuku hummer as he turned his homework back to face him, and Inko walked back into the house with the mail in her hands. She smiled lightly at her sons, leant forward over their homework at the dining table, and then went back to shuffling through the letters.

“Is this it?” Izuku asked, drawing Tenko’s attention back to the table, and Tenko ran his fingertip along the page as he calculated briefly in his head.

“304, yeah. That’s good,” Izuku smiled at the praise and immediately moved to the next question, and Tenko finally looked back to his own work judt in time to be startled away from it by Inko’s gasp from the kitchen. The boys both looked to their mother worriedly, but she had a wide smile on her face as she held out an envelope, the white paper sagging slightly as if it held something heavier than letter should be.

“It’s from Yuuei!” She exclaimed, and Tenko practically jumped out of his chair to take it from her hands. Izuku followed excitedly, hands fisted in the back of Tenko’s shirt as he pulled him back to the table to open it. Tenko picked at the seal, peeling open the envelope with shaking hands as his mom and brother crowded at his sides. Inside this strangely weighted package was the letter that would decide his future, he had tried out for plenty of other local hero courses, but none could provide the same level of influence as Yuuei and its extensive list of successful alumni.

Tenko reached inside, the corner of his mouth pulling into a confused frown when instead of a letter he found a round disk, about an inch thick and made of smooth metal. Tenko looked to Inko, who seemed equally confused at the object, and then suddenly a light flickered and Tenko dropped it onto the table. It spun on its side, and the Midoriyas watched it turn, then fall flat onto its base as light shot from it, forming a projection not unlike the screen of a computer.

“Midoriya Tenko,” started the figure on the screen, a white creature with a thick scar over one of its beady eyes. The mouse-dog-bear smiled, looking up from the papers in its arms. “I’m Nedzu, the principal here at Yuuei Highschool!” Tenko shared a confused look with his brother, who just shrugged and turned back to the screen. So this wasn’t a hero he’d heard of, then.

“You passed our written exam with a score of eighty-nine percent, which was in the top eleven percent of the scores our entrees received. That alone wouldn’t be enough to get you into Yuuei, which is why we’ll move on to your score in the practical exam, which I’m sure is the result that you’re anticipating most.” Inko smiled and grabbed Tenko’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly as Tenko bit his lip. Principal Nedzu glanced down at his papers again, then looked back up toward Tenko with a brighter smile.

“Our practical exam had two parts, though you were only aware of one. Here at Yuuei we value those who protect others, which is why there were two point categories, battle points that you got from disarming or destroying robots, and rescue points, which were awarded by a board of judges based on how heroic your actions were during the exam.” Izuku was in awe, bouncing in his seat as he watched the video. Too late Tenko realised that he probably should’ve watched the video alone, as now Izuku would go into his own exam in a few years aware of this hidden part of it.

“You, Midoriya Tenko, earned forty-one villain points, which puts you at fifth place out of all our entrants for that catagory. Thanks to your multiple heroic acts, including destroying the zero point robot—an action that resulted in a broken wrist—the judges appointed you forty-five rescue points. That puts your total at ninety-six, the highest score of all of our entrants this year.” Nedzu was still talking, but Tenko couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears, the pure shock in his veins freezing him in place as Izuku turned wide eyes to look at him.

Suddenly he was swept into a tight hug, Inko pressing her face into his shoulder as he felt the fabric of his shirt dampen, his younger brother jumping out of his chair to run around and embrace them both from the side. The shock faded out and Tenko’s left hand screwed tightly into the fabric of Inko’s shirt, returning the hug with all his strength as his right reached out to pull Izuku in closer as well.

“I’m so proud of you,” Inko said through her tears, and Tenko’s eyes burned as she smiled up at him. “You’ve come so far, Tenko, I know you’re going to be an amazing hero.” Tenko’s eyes watered, and he tucked his face into Izuku’s hair as a sob racked his body. The hologram shut off beside them, unnoticed as Inko pulled Tenko to his feet so that she could hug him properly, standing in the middle of their dining area as Tenko shook, taking a shuddering breath as Inko pressed her lips to his forehead. They stepped apart as Tenko raised his arm to rub at his face, the other clutched close to his chest, and Izuku tugged at his sleeve with an excited smile.

“Congratulations, Tenko-nii!” Tenko gave his brother a wobbly smile, turning to lift his brother into his arms. Izuku laughed, wrapping his legs tight around Tenko’s waist to save himself from falling as Tenko spun him around and lowered him back to the ground.

“Thank you. Uh, both of you. I... couldn’t have done it without you.” Inko’s smile wobbled again and tears sprung to Izuku’s eyes too, and Tenko had one moment to wonder when he’d become just as much of a crybaby as his family before a smile tugged onto his face and both rushed forward to hug him again.

“Of course, Tenko. We love you.” Usually Tenko felt fear whenever they said that to him, shame welling up in him as he let out a half hearted response and tried to escape the conversation. He could count the times he’s said “I love you” on one hand, his mind usually too crowded with guilt and worry when a moment arose, and yet...

Yet he didn’t feel that anymore, there was no guilt squeezing his heart at the idea of betraying Hana or his mother, no worry that he’d open up to these people only to have them snatched away from him. He felt comfortable, warm (and a little damp) from the embrace and the tears, his heart hammering in his chest yet no anxiety swirling through his veins. Tenko exhaled softly, shifting in the hug so that he could see both of their faces, so that they could both see his smile as he spoke.

“I love you too.” They both beamed in response, and then Izuku stepped back, eyes darting between his brother and his mom for a moment before they widened.

“Wait, stand up straight.” They both immediately complied, Tenko turning away from Inko as she did the same, and standing back to back. Tenko watched Izuku our of the corner of his eye as the boy squinted and frowned, jumping up and down a few times so that he could be absolutely sure, then he grinned and latched onto Tenko’s arm.

“You grew, nii-chan! You’re taller than mom now!” Tenko’s face split into a grin as he turned to face his mother, taking in the proud, amused glint in her eyes before pulling them both into a hug again.

“I love you a lot,” he reiterated quietly, and his brother giggled at his side before pulling back and running to get his notebook. Inko’s hand slid down from Tenko’s shoulder to take his own, and her expression melted into that gentle, teasing smirk as she pulled back.

“You better be ready, Izuku’s not going to let you go until you have your entire future career planned out.” Tenko groaned good naturedly, and then Izuku ran back into the room, taking him by the forearm and manuvering him back into his seat, Izuku’s homework discarded as he slapped his open notebook down on the table.

“So, for your hero costume, I was thinking...”

Chapter 10: And you look so good with him

Chapter Text

The scent of charred flesh stuck in his pale hair and dark clothes, ash staining the bottoms of his shoes and eyes stinging red from smoke. He still wasn’t adapted to his quirk, not really, but it was easier to get over the flame eating his skin when the swirl of overwhelming heat was already a constant in his core.

He looked down at the ground in the entryway, but he didn’t take off his shoes before he walked inside and sat at the bar, propping his long legs up along the other stools. Kurogiri sighed as his glowing yellow eyes caught sight of the scuffed platform boots, but he said nothing.

“Dabi,” he greeted, and the man hummed. It was the newest of his names, he didn’t stick with one for too long or else the thugs he spent his time around would ge too comfortable, but he liked the sound of this one the most. He liked the idea of being called cremation, considering he was basically a corpse with a flamethrower, ready to go down and take everyone with him at any moment. Considering it was the way he would’ve died, had Ujiko not swept him away in the eleventh hour. “Sensei wishes to speak with you today.” Dabi huffed and rolled his eyes, wordlessly gesturing for Kurogiri to get him a drink before turning to the sh*tty screen in the corner. He was an adult, he could do as he pleased. Kurogiri placed two fingers of crappy bourbon down on the bar, and Dabi picked up the glass as the screen flickered to life. As the image of his master flashed and shook, so did Dabi’s anticipation.

“Dabi, how are you doing?” Sensei didn’t really want to know, his dark eyes harsh and uncaring even through the grainy screen. That was fine, because Dabi didn’t want him to. Having a bad day wouldn’t reflect well on him.

“Fine,” he lied, and Sensei could tell he was lying. The man looked down, stark white hair holding its shape perfectly no matter how harshly he moved. He was probably annoyed, but in that flash of bright white Dabi could only see a reflection of himself. Sensei looked like he could be Dabi’s father, probably.

“Hm, that’s good. Have you given any thought to what you’d like?” Dabi sneered at that, putting the glass back onto the bar and digging his nails into his legs as he was forced into much harsher thoughts.

“Revenge,” he stated simply, and it was the truth. He had hurt for long enough, he wanted everyone to hurt in return. Everyone who had ever idolised his sh*tty father, all the people who gave him the power he used to force Touya and his siblings into the world. And while Dabi was listing people to hurt, how about everyone who put All Might in power too. If he hadn’t been so unbreakable, perhaps Touya’s father wouldn’t have been so hellbent on victory. Their system was broken. Dabi would break All Might, just like daddy dearest had wanted. They’d see how grateful he was then, as the entire country spiralled into despair.

“That’s very good, Dabi.” Silence, then, and Dabi fidgeted impatiently. Sensei had a way of doing that, of making him antsy. No other person made Dabi feel so... conflicted. It was almost addicting. “You know... Tenko is starting at Yuuei soon,” Dabi scowled, there it was. Sensei had the gall to smile fondly, as if Tenko was his kid and not some brat who rejected him. A brat that he’d never even met. No matter what Dabi did, how many people he killed, how often he spouted the mantra of hatred that Sensei was apparently so proud of him for, he never shut up about Tenko, Tenko, Tenko. What did Tenko have that he didn’t? A clean face, a normal family? A quirk that didn’t eat him from the inside out? Dabi grit his teeth.

“Hm,” he responded vaguely, because he needed to respond to advance the dialogue of this doomed interaction.

“You understand what I want, don’t you, Dabi? All of this is for Tenko, not for you. You bring Tenko to me, and I’ll set you up with a good place as his right hand, hm? You won’t ever want for anything, and Tenko will allow you to exact your revenge.” Dabi all but growled at that, teeth grinding in his mouth as the lines of his fingerprints spiralled a sizzling blue. Steam blocked his vision as it was vented out of his tear ducts, the closest he was capable of getting to crying. As if he’d take orders from some sniveling fifteen year old. Tenko didn’t f*cking deserve any of it. Why wasn’t Dabi good enough!?

“Of course, Sensei,” he snarled, and the man hummed his approval. He hated him.

“Very good. I apologise for expecting resistance from you, after all, you’re probably used to being second, right? After your experiences with that darling youngest sibling of yours,” and even the barest praise made Dabi’s head spin, spiralling suddenly into anger as the rest of what Sensei said caught up with him. “Carry on.” The screen cut out, and the room was silent once more. Sensei’s face was no longer on the screen and Dabi released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, relaxing his jaw and feeling his muscles ache. Dabi’s hands shook as he reached for his glass and brought it to his lips.

Tenko. Dabi already hated the sniveling rat. No matter what he did, how hard he worked, how powerful he got, everyone always preferred someone else. Tenko. Shouto. When would Touya be good enough? Dabi’s hands shook so hard he almost spilled the drink down his shirt, and he gripped the glass tighter.

He was going to kill Tenko. Kill that brat, burn him from head to toe, revel in the boy’s cries. Sensei would watch, he’d see that Dabi was better. Touya had always been better, Sensei’s orders be damned. It was said that it‘s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. Touya had learned as a kid that that was bullsh*t, it was easiest to simply not ask for anything at all. Dabi’s fingertips were so hot that he made indents in the softened glass, evaporating the drink inside.

But he wasn’t Touya. He wasn’t sh*tty and weak and helpless like Touya. He wasn’t second best, like Touya was. He was Dabi, he was new, and by all accounts that made him superior. He was made for this. Touya had known that he shouldn’t ask, and so Dabi would just take. He’d watch Tenko’s life flicker out through his eyes as his brain melted inside his skull, and Sensei wouldn’t have a choice but to pick him. Touya had known it was safest not to break the rules. Dabi’s grip tightened on the white-hot glass and he flung it to the side, hearing it smash against the wall and laughing until his seams split. Kurogiri sighed behind him, and then dutifully opened a warp and whisked the mess away.

Dabi scraped his nails down his face, letting them catch on the edges of the scars beneath his eyes and peeling them up just to feel the sting. Blood ran down his cheeks and something felt familiar about the whole thing, so he paused. He looked to Kurogiri, and the man cleaned a glass silently. Some caretaker, huh? Dabi stood and pushed away from the bar, storming out of the building with flame already licking at his fingertips.

Dabi was not Touya. He would not let the golden child steal from him again.

= = =

Tenko put the last box of his stuff into his new bedroom, gloved fingers scratching absently at his collarbone as he stood and looked around. The apartment was a quaint place, though not much different than their old one. There was a single room for their kitchen, living room, and dining area, and the washing machine and dryer were hidden away in a linen closet. Tenko liked the place, big houses unnerved him and the neighbours seemed like the types to be quiet and mind their business. He wasn’t interested in people sending their kids over to try and befriend Izuku or him.

Not to say that he didn’t want Izuku to have friends, of course! Just that neighbour kids were often annoying, parents using “making friends” as an excuse to dump their brats onto people they barely knew, and Tenko didn’t quite trust anyone at Izuku’s age to not treat him differently if they found out he was quirkless.

Speaking of Izuku, the boy skipped through the doorway, planting his feet firmly and looking around the room. It wasn’t all that big compared to the bedrooms Tenko’s friends all had, maybe a little over two metres across with a single window on the back end, completely empty aside from some flimsy blue curtains. Izuku immediately ran over to look out of the window, while Tenko mentally mapped out the layout he wanted.

When Inko walked inside with their new keys in her hand, the trio set about putting together all of the furniture they had brought for the bedrooms, and packed away their belongings into cabinets and bookshelves. After several long hours (with a break in the middle for snacks), the apartment was decently furnished with their meagre belongings, the family finally declaring themselves done when Tenko delicately hung their family photo on the wall.

“Okay, we don’t have much food, so we’ll need to either have something simple or order takeout,” Inko said, walking into the room with her phone in her hands. Tenko took a moment to think, and then headed toward the kitchen

“Can we make yaki udon? Please?” He asked, opening the fridge, but his question was drowned out by his brother’s shout.

“Katsudon!” Inko giggled a little, shooing Izuku into the kitchen as the boy pouted.

“We had katsudon last week, and you don’t even like the takeaway version very much. Help your brother make udon.” Izuku huffed but agreed, and in 15 minutes they had a simple meal ready, sitting around the table and chatting idly as they ate. When they were all finished Tenko stood to take the plates to the sink, and when he turned back around he found his brother leaning all the way over the table, whispering excitedly to Inko with a big smile on his face. Inko noticed him watching and quickly shooed Izuku back into his seat, the pair sitting silent and suspicious as Tenko made his way over.

“So... what’s going on?” He asked cautiously, watching Izuku fidget in his chair as if he was physically struggling to keep his mouth shut. Tenko raised an eyebrow as he glanced back to his mom, and she sighed fondly before nodding to Izuku. The boy immediately took off running down the hall, and Inko pushed herself out of her seat.

“I know you probably weren’t expecting anything due to the move, but it’s your birthday in a few days and you’re starting highschool a couple of days after that, so Izuku and I wanted to get something for you.”

“Mom, you didn’t have to—“

“I know, sweetheart, but this is a big moment for you! You’re turning sixteen, and you’re going to Yuuei! We wanted to make sure you knew how proud we are, and we wanted you to have something to entertain yourself with, since I know starting in a new school could be difficult for you.” Tenko looked down at the ground and tugged the edges of his gloves, then spun around when a small hand tapped him on the shoulder. Izuku was standing there, presenting an unmarked box to him with a grin.

“Happy birthday, Nii-chan!” Tenko smiled a little as he took the box, reaching forward to ruffle Izuku’s hair. He backed toward the table so that both Izuku and Inko could see him opening it, and when he pried the lid off of the box he frowned for a moment before gasping excitedly. Inside the box was a second box, this one marked with a ‘Nintendo DS’ logo in the corner.

“Oh, guys, you didn’t have to—ah, wow!” He awkwardly slid the slightly smaller box out on to the table, looking at the design on the front and grinning. It was the second most recent model, an XL that Tenko had had his eye on for a while, so they must’ve done their research. He looked up at his family with a smile, fighting back tears as he saw their hopeful faces.. He put the box back down on the table, reaching his arms out and then getting the wind knocked out of him when his brother immediately slammed into him, squeezing him into a tight hug and being followed by a laughing, much gentler Inko.

“Thank you, I love it. And you guys,” he said, and Izuku responded with a muffled “love you too” into his shoulder. Eventually they seperated, and Inko sent Izuku to get ready for bed as Tenko set up his new DS. An hour or so later, Tenko said goodnight to Inko, thanked her again for the gift, and then headed to bed himself to keep playing his game until he was tired enough to fall asleep.

At 11pm he was just about ready to doze off, when he was startled awake by a knock at his door. Tenko sat up and rubbed his eyes, and the door squeaked as it opened to reveal Izuku, standing at the door with his pillow in his arms. “I can’t sleep by myself,” he said quietly, and Tenko frowned.

“Are you scared?” Izuku shuffled further into the room, his all might pajamas illuminated only by the hall light peaking past the crack in the door.

“...Yeah. It’s weird being able to see the roof above my bed. Usually your bed is there and...I don’t like being alone.” Tenko sighed, looking at his bed tiredly. It was only a single, so he didn’t really know if he could fit Izuku in it, unless... Tenko reached over to the foot of the bed and untucked the blankets, folding them back a little and patting the mattress.

“Here, you can sleep on this side,” he muttered, and Izuku’s face lit up as he shuffled across the carpet and put his pillow down. He climbed under the blankets, being careful to make sure he didn’t kick Tenko as he wiggled in up to his chin.

“Thank you Nii-chan,” he yawned, and Tenko flopped back onto his own pillow, turning away from the intrusive hall light just like he used to do in their old home.

“It’s okay. Goodnight.”

= = =

Tenko’s grip tightened on the straps of his backpack, god, it was like starting at daycare all over again. Nerves made his skin prickle, and he scraped his fingers down the sides of his neck as he navigated the halls. It was only the introductory day, they’d have the entrance ceremony and get their class schedule and then go home after barely a couple of hours, there was no need to worry. He wouldn’t even have to talk to anyone.

Tenko walked into the 1A classroom and didn’t even bother to look at the other students before sitting in the closest chair, waiting for their teacher to show up. He’d heard that all the Yuuei staff were heroes, which seemed a little off putting to him. Sure they might be good in combat, but Tenko had doubts about whether that translated to being capable educators. He shrugged off the thought and fished his DS out of his bag, crossing his legs on his chair and opening the most recent Zelda game for what was already the third time that day.

Tenko was completely engrossed in his game, ignoring the happenings of the rest of the classroom to the best of his ability until someone with black schlera and a black face mask stuck their head into his peripheral vision and waved.

“Uh, hi, you’re in my seat,” she said, voice muffled by the mask, looking a little nervous as Tenko’s eyes darted up to meet hers for a second. When he paused his game and leant back in the chair to look at her, her white irises shifted to the chalkboard at the front of the room and she tucked a strand of bright purple hair behind her ear.

“We have assigned seats, and the sheet over there said that this is where I’m supposed to be so I’d appreciate it if you could... move,” she said, gesturing casually and then putting a hand lightly on the back of the chair, thumb raised. Tenko sighed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and standing up to move away. “Thanks, dude.” The girl pulled a bottle of hand sanitiser out of her bag and squirted a generous amount into her palm, and Tenko went up to the front of the room to find his assigned seat.

He was listed as Tenko Midoriya, assigned to seat seventeen, and he huffed to himself as he spun and went to the opposite side of the classroom to sit in the middle row. He was right next to the window now, though, so that was a plus. Tenko couldn’t really be bothered to pull his DS out again, so he settled for tucking his knees to his chest and watching the room fill up.

The very last person to enter the room was recogniseable, Tenko had seen that bright smile and red hair in his nightmares for weeks after the entrance exam, so he turned to look steadfastly out of the window and hoped that Mori wouldn’t interact with him. The boy went up to the front of the room, looked around, then took the seat right behind Tenko. Just his luck. Once every seat was full, Tenko glanced up at the clock, and at 7:30 on the dot a familiar hero stepped into the room.

“Hello little listeners, I’m Yamada Hisashi—better known as Present Mic—and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for your time here at UA!” His voice was loud and his hair stood two feet into the air, adding onto an already impressive height and making him seem far more daunting in person than he had seemed on the stage at the entrance exam. The man walked into the room, set a pile of papers onto the little podium at the front, and grinned at them all.

“I see you’ve found your assigned seats already, good work! I’m sorry to dip out on you all so early but I have to MC the orientation ceremony for this year, so someone else’ll come in to take the roll and escort you to the assembly and back. I look forward to meeting you all on our first day of classes, but until then you’ll be with Eraserhead.” And with that he winked, waved, and raced out of the room, microphone in hand and glasses sliding down his nose. He seemed like a busy guy, maybe a little distractable.

Eraserhead... that name rung a bell. Then again, every hero name would probably ring a bell for him considering how often his brother talked about them. Tenko pulled his phone out, doing a quick search of Eraserhead just to know what he should expect. What came up were amateur articles, brief descriptions of an undercover hero accompanied by blurry photos of a scruffy, dark haired man usually running away from the camera. The articles had no information on his name, though they knew that he had graduated from Yuuei nine years ago, and apparently had the ability to shut off a person’s quirk by looking at them. Tenko frowned, tucked his phone into his pocket, and looked up just in time to see a rounded yellow figure loom in the doorway.

“Could Yamada not even bother to stick around until I arrived? Hmph,” the figure huffed, and then it unzipped, and Tenko recognised the yellow bulk as a sleeping bag when a dark haired man stepped out of it and chucked it into the corner.

“I’m taking over for Yamada today. You should address me as Aizawa-sensei, let’s get going.” The man turned, gesturing to the door, and when nobody moved to follow him he spun back around with narrowed eyes.

“Uh, Yamada-sensei said you were going to take roll call,” a brave soul from the back of the room spoke up, and Aizawa looked out at them all silently for a moment. Tenko could feel the way people squirmed under the teacher’s gaze, and eventually Mori cleared his throat awkwardly from behind.

“Uh, it probably doesn’t matter, right? We can just go to the ceremony, it’ll be fun!” His intentions were pure, and other students seemed to agree and begin to stand, but the teacher’s eyes flashed red as he shuffled back to the teaching podium.

“Fun? You aren’t here to have fun. This is Yuuei, the most prestigious hero school in the country. You can’t afford to have fun.” Tenko tugged a little harder than usual on the rim of his glove, and when he snapped it back against his wrist the teacher’s eyes darted over to him. Tenko refused to back down, locking the pair in a staring contest that dragged on for a long few seconds before Aizawa looked away. “Change of plans, come with me.” Tenko stood begrudgingly, following the rest of his class out behind the teacher and listening to the mutterings of his peers.

“Are we going to the opening ceremony?”

“He said change of plans, didn’t he? So I guess we aren’t.”

“Aw, seriously? I wanted to meet the rest of the first years!”

Aizawa shooed them into the change rooms, instructing them to put on their PE uniforms and meet him out on the track behind the school. Everyone seemed confused and a little put out at the idea of some kind of sport, but Tenko just followed orders silently. He figured that anything would be better than sitting and listening to speeches, packed like a sardine between two strangers—or worse, Mori and a stranger—and then being forced to socialise with them.

Tenko was one of the first to get changed, everyone else moving slowly either to stall from whatever activity was planned, to show off how fit they were, or to force themself as far into the corners as they could to stay hidden. To be fair, Tenko would’ve been self conscious too, but he had a shirt on underneath his uniform that made it easy to simply discard the jacket and button up and then zip the uniform jumper over it. He retied his laces once his pants were on, and then weaved his way out of the change room with his eyes on the floor.

A few of the girls were already done by the time he got out, it seemed that they spent a lot less time peaco*cking, and Tenko shoved his hands deep into his pockets and nodded at one of them when they waved. He leant against the wall, trying to pretend he couldn’t feel them eyeing his scars and his messy hair, and eventually the rest of the class joined them.

“Alright. What’s the most important part of being a hero?” Aizawa said, and Mori’s hand immediately shot up.

“Being strong and protecting people!” He said enthusiastically, and Aizawa nodded.

“Sure. What else?”

“Publicity and marketing,” came a more reserved voice from the back. Aizawa remained blank faced as he continued to look over the crowd.

“If you want to be famous, yes. Anyone else?”

“Your quirk,” the boy next to Tenko said, and Tenko drummed his gloved fingers against his thigh. Aizawa nodded again, turning away from the students to walk toward the track.

“Yes. Your quirk is a major component of every part of heroism. It’s part of your character that you need to market, it’s what sets you apart from other heroes, and most of all it’s the main source of your strength as a hero.” Tenko frowned at that, pulling his hands out of his pockets to tug on his gloves. He could understand that in most cases, yes, the quirk makes the man. But Izuku didn’t have one, and he was still heroic. Aizawa himself had a quirk that didn’t strengthen him at all! Tenko stood up a little straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. What angle is this guy trying to work?

“Sometimes, you have a quirk that helps you in some cases, and is completely useless in others. But to be a good hero, your quirk needs to be multifaceted and useful in any situation. To have potential as a hero, you need a good quirk.” He turned back to face them all, still blank faced, calculating. “So today we’re doing a quirk apprehension test. You’ll do eight physical tests that I’m sure you’re all familiar with from middle school, but you can use your quirks to your heart’s desire.” Excited chatter broke out among the crowd, but it was quickly squashed when Aizawa glared at them.

“As heroes, your quirk is everything. Yuuei is about reaching your limits and going even further beyond. Do whatever it takes to get as high a score as possible. Plus ultra,” he deadpanned, and was met with a much quieter chorus of agreements. “You,” Aizawa said, hand reaching up to point into the crowd. All eyes turned in his direction, and Tenko realised belatedly that the teacher was pointing directly at him. “Midoriya. Your score was the highest recorded for this year’s enrolments. In fact, it was higher than ninety percent of students ever enrolled at Yuuei.” Aizawa beckoned him out of the crowd with the outstretched finger, and Tenko suppressed a wince as his classmates began to whisper.

“Seriously, that guy?”

“He doesn’t look very powerful.”

“He’s kinda skinny, really. And short.”

“He’s the guy who did better than me?”

All in all, none of it was very encouraging. Tenko has been hoping the faculty would just stay quiet about his entrance exam score, putting a big sign over his head that said Number One Student was only going to make people want to challenge him, and while he could definitely fight robots he had nothing on other people. Aizawa chucked a ball at him, and Tenko fumbled a little when he caught it. He was thankful for his gloves, because without them his palms were so sweaty he probably would’ve thrown the ball out into the crowd of his peers and gotten laughed at. Aizawa eyes the gloves suspiciously, and Tenko took a deep breath.

“What was your score on the ball throw in middle school?” He asked, and Tenko chewed his bottom lip nervously, a substitute for scratching or fiddling with his gloves since his hands were occupied.

“I don’t know... thirty metres?” He clutched the ball nervously, he could see where this was going and he knew what the outcome would be. Aizawa would want him to throw the ball using whatever quirk had gotten him the top spot in the entrance exam, Tenko would throw it maybe thirty-five metres, and everyone would laugh. “Sensei, I really don’t think—“

“Now do it again, but use your quirk.” Tenko swallowed awkwardly, bowing his head as he stepped up to throw. He swapped the ball between his hands, eventually letting it settle in his left palm. Aizawa eyed him critically throughout, and when Tenko got ready to throw, he hummed dissapointedly.

“Are you going to take off your gloves? I assume they have something to do with your quirk,” the teacher said monotonously, gesturing to Tenko’s hands.

“Well yeah I guess, but my quirk isn’t really—“

“The point of the excersize is to use your quirk, Midoriya,” Aizawa stated in that same toneless voice, and Tenko scowled. The dude clearly didn’t know what Tenko’s quirk was, and evidently didn’t care at all for the class in general. Tenko barely knew him and had already decided he didn’t like the guy. They were missing orientation with their actual teacher for this and the substitute couldn’t even be bothered to do his research.

“You don’t even know what my quirk is. Just let me throw the stupid ball,” Tenko huffed, and he looked the teacher dead in his narrowed, bloodshot eyes before winding up and throwing the ball. It went about as far as Tenko had expected, and then he walked back into the crowd of his peers to lean against the wall again. Aizawa took a deep breath, as if he were holding himself back from blowing up about it, and turned to face the crowd again.

“Clearly, you need extra incentive. A hero always puts 100% effort into what they do, so to bring that out of you, we’ll raise the stakes.” Aizawa walked out into the field to retrieve the ball, leaving the class in suspense as he took his time getting there and back again. When he returned, Aizawa presented the ball to the class as if presenting an ultimatum, and spoke. “I’ll be scoring you on each of the events. At the end of the test, the student with the lowest total score will be expelled.” There were gasps and distressed murmuring from the rest of the class, but Tenko was focused on the way Aizawa’s eyes sought him out in the crowd.

It wasn’t just a challenge for the class, it was for him. Somehow demonstrate Aizawa’s weird definition of “heroic potential” with the quirk he had, or this would last day at Yuuei. Tenko clenched his fists, nails of his uncovered fingers digging into the fabric on his palms as he tried to subdue his anger. He looked away from the cause of his frustrations, taking a deep breath and dragging his fingertips down his neck in lieu of actually scratching, feeling his skin prickle just as a voice rang out from the crowd.

“You aren’t even our teacher, you can’t do that!” Mori said indignantly, sending concerned glances in Tenko’s direction as the pale teen shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“Yes I can,” Aizawa responded, and that was that.

He directed them all over to line up for the sprint, and Tenko begrudgingly stood next to Mori at the end of the line. The guy could probably pull himself past the finish line in a couple of seconds, which would inevitably make Tenko’s score look even worse than it was already bound to be. But what could he do? It wasn’t like his quirk could make him run faster or jump further, it didn’t make him able to do more sit-ups in a minute or give him a stronger grip. He was as good as quirkless in these trials.

What really pissed him off, though, was that it wasn’t like Aizawa would’ve done well in these trials either. His quirk didn’t make him stronger or faster in any way, what kind of hypocrite expels a kid for not having heroic potential when they themselves became a hero at Yuuei and would’ve flunked the apprehension test just as hard!? It was plain unfair, and the longer Tenko thought about it the more annoyed he got. Eventually it got to be his turn after every student in front of him had scored seven seconds at maximum, and Mori gave him a sympathetic half-smile as he stretched his hands forward and latched his quirk onto the building opposite them.

Mori’s jacket was open to the tank top beneath it, which was honestly a hazard in a fitness contest, though Mori didn’t seem to care. Aizawa looked directly at Tenko as he counted down, and his blood boiled. He put one foot back and his hands hovered at his sides, and when they were told to go Mori shot forward and Tenko grabbed the edge of his jacket. Tenko let his foot drag on the ground, slowing them down a little but keeping himself on his side of the line, and as they approached the finish line Tenko tucked his feet up for a small boost and then let go, the momentum shooting him forward and letting him finish just behind Mori at 4.5 seconds. He hadn’t needed to lift his foot, of course, but it made Mori be able to go a little faster and Tenko figured he owed him that much.

He turned around to his teacher, knowing for a fact that he’d never crossed the line between himself and Mori, and smirked triumphantly at the stormy expression in his eyes. Then he turned back to Mori, and admittedly felt guilty when the taller teen gave him an awkward half-smile and zipped his jacket all the way up to his chin.

“Sorry. I tried to...” he started, and then trailed off at the expression on Mori’s face. His justification didn’t really matter, did it? He was apologising. “I won’t do it again,” he muttered, picking at his gloves, and Mori shook his head.

“Oh, it’s all good! That was... smart,” he replied stiltedly, and then they all had to move to the next event before Tenko could point out that it clearly wasn’t ‘all good’ at all.

For most of the other events he couldn’t do anything to bring up his score, and he instead resigned himself to his fate as his classmates powered ahead through the long jump and the ball throw while he skimmed the back end of the group. He was a little fitter than the average teenager, but that didn’t mean much among Yuuei students, the cream of the crop in terms of strength, speed and determination. By the time the sit-ups section was finished, Tenko‘s estimated score was sitting comfortably in 20th place. He pulled hard on the fabric of his gloves, and snapped it back against his wrist as they gathered around Aizawa for their final scores.

Aizawa nodded wordlessly to the holographic board, and Tenko’s eyes immediately started to the 20th place slot, expecting to find his name there and then attempt to talk his way out of expulsion. Instead, his eyes widened when he realised that wasn’t his name in 20th, and he skimmed up the list to realise he was in 18th place instead. He apparently wasn’t the only one who wasn’t suited to this test, and his little boost in the sprint had put him over the top

‘Amano Kiyoshi’ apparently didn’t care all that much, because when Tenko looked back over the crowd, nobody seemed particularly distressed. Then there was a sigh from beside him, and the girl with the mask and black schlera from earlier sighed and stepped forward.

“Okay,” she shrugged, but her breath was shaky and her hands were clenched at her sides as she looked up at Aizawa. He looked her over for a moment, then looked at her score on the board.

“What’s your quirk?” He asked blankly, and Tenko’s eyes widened at how painfully obvious he was in his tired disdain. If her quirk wasn’t “heroic” enough, she’d be going home. Tenko grit his teeth, eyes darting to Amano as she shook out her hands.

“Basically just this,” she said, pressing her hands together, and then she was gone. Well, not all of her was gone, her clothes were still there which was the only indication that she hadn’t teleported and had in fact just turned invisible. Her sleeves shifted as she moved her arms, then one by one the pieces of her clothes disappeared until there was no trace of her remaining except for the little bottle of hand sanitiser in her pocket and the butterfly clip that had been keeping her hair up, which both promptly disappeared as well. Tenko’s eyes flicked to the ground where her shoes still squashed down grass as she walked, and watched her walk up to Aizawa and pause as his weird white scarf suddenly disappeared. Aizawa, to his credit, looked slightly impressed, and then waved his hand as an instruction for her to knock it off. A controlled breath came from the vacant space she was standing in, then everything reappeared all at once.

“Anything I touch with all five fingers turns invisible,” she said after the fact, pulling out the hand sanitiser to clean her hands once again, and Aizawa nodded.

“Why didn’t you put your full effort into the test?” He asked, and just as she was about to reply he held up a hand. “I’ve worked with your father before, and he’s constantly bragging about how much he’s trained you for Yuuei. You could’ve easily taken eighteenth above the other students with unsuitable quirks, maybe even higher.” Amano shrugged, wringing her wrists and keeping her thumbs carefully extended.

“I mean... I’m ambivalent about being here. And everyone else seemed like they really want to be here, so I thought that if anyone was gonna go home it should be me.” Nobody spoke and she huffed, putting a hand on her hip. “And honestly after this, I’m kinda extra-not-fond of this place. Like, this is a school, isn’t it? And it’s supposed to be the best one in the country, so why are you trying to expel the person that’s the worst at one thing instead of, I dunno, teaching them? Are you saying you don’t think you’re good enough to help people who don’t have cool flashy quirks?” She said, gesturing vaguely in Aizawa’s direction, looking pretty nonchalant despite the sting of her words, and all of Tenko’s thoughts on the subject overwhelmed him as he realised someone else agreed.

“Besides,” he started, and Amano turned to look at him in surprise, “I looked you up when Yamada-sensei told us you would be teaching us, and you don’t have a flashy quirk either. You just make other people’s quirks stop working, what makes you think you can be a hero but the, what, three of us with ‘unheroic’ quirks couldn’t?” Amano blinked, and then her eyes narrowed as she turned back to the teacher.

“Seriously? What a hypocrite. If Yamada-sensei is anything like you then I’m glad I got expelled because this place seems like a load of bullshi—“

“Okay, enough. Nobody is being expelled,” Aizawa groaned, rubbing a hand down his face and stepping back. “That was a ruse designed to make you put 100% of your effort into these events, though I wasn’t expecting... this outcome. Let it be known that while I understand your reasoning Amano, you shouldn’t be sacrificing your own education to help others.” Amano raised an eyebrow and Tenko scowled, but both of them stepped back into the crowd of students.

“I thought putting other people above you was like, the whole point of being a hero,” Amano muttered as she leaned toward him, and Tenko nodded his agreement and then shifted away awkwardly.

“Just... all of you go get changed. Orientation is nearly over and you need to get sorted with Yamada before you leave.” Everyone turned to go, muttering at different levels of furious as they shuffled, and Amano jogged a little to catch up to him. “I’ll see you all in hero training tomorrow,” he said, and Tenko’s eyes widened. Fuuuck.

“Did you seriously look him up? That’s kinda weird,” Amano teased, and Tenko rolled his eyes.

“My little brother’s always talking about heroes, but I hadn’t heard much about this guy so I figured he must’ve been something special. Turns out he’s just a dick.” Amano laughed, and Tenko let himself feel a little pride at his first successful social interaction before they parted ways at the change rooms.

= = =

Dabi ran into the bar, skidding to a stop on the cleanly polished floor. He didn’t think he’d ever gotten home that fast in his life.

“What happened, I just—“

“All For One will live,” Kurogiri soothed, and Dabi’s breath stuttered out in a way that rudely betrayed just how scared he had been. He wasn’t ready to go alone, not yet. “But his injuries are extensive. He’s currently being operated on by Ujiko-san, who will call to update us as soon as he is able.” The heat coursing through Dabi’s veins spiked nervously, and Kurogiri’s glowing yellow eyes narrowed with concern. “You don’t need to worry, your Sensei is the most powerful man in the country and I can assure you that All Might left the scene looking far worse tha—“

“I’m not worried! I don’t... I don’t f*cking care. It’s not my problem.” Kurogiri’s face morphed into an expression that showed he definitely didn’t believe that, but he nodded and returned to his place behind the bar all the same. Meanwhile, Dabi’s thoughts stewed. Did he say All Might? I’m going to kill that hero bastard.

“Can you...” Dabi started, pausing to swallow nervously when Kurogiri looked over at him. “Can you warp me to him?” The two of them remained in tense silence, Dabi’s fingertips turning purple like his scars as all the heat his body could muster bunched in his core. Kurogiri weighed his options then he gestured his arm to the side, opening a portal in front of the wall.

Dabi stepped through into a bright room, squinting as the clinical whiteness of it all strained his eyes. He turned around and looked past the portal, eyes focusing in on a bed and a figure standing over it. Blood dripped onto the floor, was splattered across the walls, and the imagery of red and white together made Dabi feel sick. Kurogiri announced their presence, and Ujiko didn’t look up.

Slowly, on shaky, burning feet, Dabi inched closer to the bed. His body pulled him forward to see what had become of his Sensei, the man that could’ve been his father, even as his heart palpitated and his head tried to turn him away. He got close enough to look over Ujiko’s shoulder, and then immediately pulled back because he didn’t want Sensei to see him gag. There was something different about seeing a person’s face melt without the blue flame surrounding it. Strings of skin and forming scar tissue stretched across the bloody concave that was once All For One’s face, only his mouth was in tact but his bones were so shattered that it just looked like a dark smear across the formless blob of his head. Even as Dabi watched he was healing, and after he saw the white gunk on his face resolidify itself into mishapen eyes in his gaping sockets Dabi took several steps back and groaned.

Dabi stayed away for the rest of the surgery, and when Ujiko gave them a silent nod and left the room, he slowly crept forward to stand at his Sensei’s bedside. His face was a starry mass of cross section scars and bulging veins, his mouth too wide and eyes and nose hidden under a thick membrane of skin. Dabi didn’t understand why he looked that way, why the doctor hadn’t been able to return his face to normal. Maybe it was intentional, looking at it made even Dabi feel queasy. Kurogiri appeared at his side and pushed a chair into the back of his legs until he was forced to sit down, and the two remained silent beside their boss. When Dabi broke down, burning hands hiding his face as he rested his head on his knees, shoulders shaking as his sobs racked his body and his tears failed to leak past his sealed tear ducts, Kurogiri remained straight faced and staring forward.

It was so easy to become dependant on someone. Dabi wouldn’t let his guard down again.

Dabi’s breakdown was long over by the time All For One stirred, and Dabi kept his face blank when he watched his Sensei’s eyes twitch and move beneath the skin that covered them.

“Ujiko‘ll be back soon,” Dabi said softly, and the eyes rolled over to look in his direction.

“Thank you, Dabi,” he wheezed through his mask, past the tube in his throat, and Dabi pushed down the fear that threatened to swallow him. Sensei was supposed to be the strongest person in Japan, maybe even the world, and yet he was reduced to this. How could Dabi stand a chance? He was weak, far too weak to be on the streets looking to murder the number two hero alone, and clearly he couldn’t rely on All For One’s protection like he thought he could.

“What happened to you?” Dabi breathed, and All For One’s head tilted toward him.

“Just got into a scuffle with an old friend, is all. I’ll be back in shape in no time.”

“All Might?” Dabi asked, and All For One nodded dismissively. “I’m going to kill him, Sensei.” He snarled, fingertips flickering, and the man in the bed heaved a short chuckle.

“I would appreciate that, Dabi.” He looked straight back up again, and Dabi crossed his arms to snuff out his fingertips like cigarettes. “I have another request, while I’m bedridden.” Dabi nodded, and then when he was about to agree verbally in case All For One couldn’t see him, the man interrupted. “Find Tenko for me. It seems I don’t have as much time as I had anticipated and my heir needs to be ready.” And oh, that brought everything back. That sick, viscous envy filled Dabi’s chest again, and he crossed his arms tighter as he looked away. Had they not been in this situation Dabi might’ve told him to write down his request and shove it up his ass, but seeing his master bedridden had Dabi feeling soft.

“Of course, Sensei.”

Chapter 11: And I’m proud of you still

Chapter Text

Tenko’s first “real” day at Yuuei had been going okay. The classes were simple, going over things they had already learned in middle school and outlining the plans for the semester. Tenko had no doubt it would definitely get harder, but for the moment he was content. The first half of the day was just like it’d be at any other school, only their teachers were heroes who, while they seemed to know enough about the topics they taught, were clearly lacking in any kind of education training that made each lesson feel more like a student presentation or some sort of board meeting than a qualified class.

Tenko was one of the first to leave the classroom when lunch break came, but he stalled through the halls as he realised where he was headed. The cafeteria, a single, massive room that would hold every single Yuuei student. He doubted there would be any empty tables, and that meant having to go through the awkward experience of sitting silently beside someone as they ate and tried to engage him in conversation. Tenko was not looking forward to that.

“Oh, Midoriya! Over here!” A loud, grating voice called from the entrance of the cafeteria, and Tenko lifted his gaze from the floor to see a shock of red hair bouncing around, the person attached to it just tall enough to keep his head above the crowd. Tenko weighed his options in a split second, and ended up deciding that sitting on the opposite end of a table from Mori was better than getting squished in between a group of complete strangers, so he reluctantly followed Mori through the lunch line and out onto the cafeteria floor.

As he’d expected, there were no empty tables, and just as Tenko was ready to try and slip away and eat in the bathroom, a hand shot into the air and waved at them.

“Hey, Mori! Midoriya! Come sit with us!” The girl stood up, beckoning them over as she gestured to her table where only herself and one other student were sitting. Mori immediately charged forward, and as Tenko followed behind he finally recognised the girl. Amano scooched over into the corner of her booth, and patted the space beside her for Tenko to sit. He released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, giving her a tight smile as he sat down opposite Mori. Tenko’s eyes drifted to the boy occupying the seat beside Mori, who’s pale blond hair flopped down into his eyes as he looked around. The two of them made eye contact and the blond smiled, extending one hand and pushing his hair back with the other.

“Fujita Daichi, pleasure to meet you,” he said, voice smooth and clear, and Tenko cleared his throat as they shook hands.

“Uh, Midoriya Tenko. You too.” Tenko moved to pull his hand back, but Fujita grabbed the edge of his gloves and used it to hold his hand in place.

“What’s your quirk? You know Kiyoshi’s is touch activated too, I tried to convince her to use gloves like these but she insisted on just keeping her thumb raised all the time instead. Seems like a lot of extra effort to me.” He turned Tenko’s hand over in his own as he spoke, then looked back up and noticed the tense worry in Tenko’s eyes, smiling placatingly and releasing his hand. Amano gave Fujita a sharp look, and he shrugged in return.

“Sorry about him, he’s never learnt how to shut up,” she teased, and Tenko looked away to try and avoid the situation. Luckily enough, as he looked out into the hall, a familiar face stuck out in the crowd.

“Oh, it’s Hayashi,” he said, and Mori immediately stood and turned to find her.

“Oh, yeah! Hey, Hayashi, come sit with us!” The girl’s visible yellow eye met Tenko’s and then immediately darted to the floor, and Tenko felt a pang of guilt. Their first meeting hadn’t exactly been a peaceful one.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to—“

“Of course she wants to, look at her. Hayashi, c’mon!” Mori cut in, and the girl gave an awkward smile as she made her way over. Tenko shuffled closer to Amano, and Hayashi sat awkwardly beside him, practically hanging off of the side of the bench.

“Oh, that Hayashi-san! We’re in the same class!” Fujita said brightly, and Mori’s grin widened.

“That’s so cool! Look at us, we’ve got a proper group now!” The red-head said excitedly, and Tenko chose to remain silent.

= = =

As Tenko sat waiting at his desk before class, he couldn’t help but let his mind spiral. They would have hero training for the rest of the day, which meant several hours under Aizawa’s tutelage. What would they be doing? It was already painfully obvious that Tenko wasn’t built for the teacher’s idea of heroism, and with the quirk he had he seriously doubted he could get any better. Sure he could work out more, put on muscle and strengthen his endurance, but it’d be nothing compared to heroes that were naturally twice as powerful as him without even trying thanks to their quirks. Tenko scratched absently at his neck until he broke the skin, then shoved his hands into his lap guiltily.

“What do you think we’ll be doing, huh Midoriya? I’m so excited, our first hero training class!” Mori exclaimed, and just as Tenko turned to respond, a dark figure appeared in the doorway.

“Excited?” The man said, and Tenko huffed. What was with this guy and raining on everyone’s parade? “This is a serious course, for people who are serious about being heroes. Being excited just means you’re more likely to make mistakes. Think logically.” The class raced to stand and greet the teacher, but he waved them off and motioned for them to get back in their seats.

“With that having been said,” Aizawa started, a trace of a smile on his face, “here are your hero costumes.” He waved over to the wall at the side of the room, and five racks each holding five sliver cases slowly slid out. Each had a bright green number on the front that Tenko assumed correlated to the number of their assigned seat, and he eyed number seventeen impatiently. He and Izuku had spent a lot of time talking (and arguing) about his hero costume, so he had ended up submitting a lot of contradictory information. Izuku had, of course, tried to make his costume look exactly like All Might’s, which meant Tenko had a lot of difficulty trying to convince him of each little difference he had wanted.

The students all practically jumped out of their seats to grab their costumes, but Tenko remained seated to avoid the rush. Mori grabbed Tenko’s case for him, and Tenko gave him a thumbs-up just as Aizawa spoke again.

“Head down to the change rooms and then meet me at Ground Beta. You have five minutes.” Once inside the change room, Tenko fumbled with the latches on the case as he opened it, and took a deep breath as he flicked the case open to reveal his costume. He skimmed his eyes over the pieces, flicked through the instruction manual that was placed delicately on top, and got changed with the sounds of his classmates’ excitement in the background.

He picked up his new gloves, turning them over in his hands. Just from a glance he could tell they were far higher quality than the ones he was wearing, strong and stretchy and impeccably made compared to his that were already fraying at the seams. They covered all four fingers and stretched back to a strap around his wrist, held in place by a clasp that made them easily removable if he needed to access his quirk. He pulled them on, testing the flexibility of the fabric briefly before tying his shoes, pulling his mask up over his mouth, and tying his reflective jacket around his waist.

His costume was almost entirely made up of necessities, a tight sleeveless shirt to give him complete freedom of movement, cargo pants with excessive pocket space for spare gloves and masks for any people he might save, and a belt with pockets for medical supplies. The filtered face mask would help him breathe as his quirk filled the air with dust, and the jacket (if it had been made to his specifications) would reflect artificial light from cameras and flashlights, making it impossible for onlookers to make out his features in the night. Tenko was already sick to his stomach of the way heroes chased fame, he figured making it impossible for people to get photos of him would help to make sure he never became that corrupt. Any colour coordination or patterns on his shirt and gloves had been implemented by Izuku and the company, Tenko didn’t exactly have an eye for costume design.

Looking around at his classmates led him to believe that apparently, he was the only one with that issue.

Everyone’s costumes were bright and unique, all clean lines and stretchy spandex and perfect colour coordination. Compared to them, Tenko just looked like a regular kid who’d snuck into a hero class. Mori’s costume was grey, red, and blue and reminded Tenko of a magnet (which was probably the intention). It was simple, sleek, and skintight, showing off a body far broader and more muscular than Tenko’s own. He debated putting on his jacket for a moment before Mori turned and saw him.

“Cool costume man, very practical. Let’s go!”

The pair were two of the first to be ready—likely due to the simplicity of Tenko’s costume and Mori’s enthusiasm—so they stood and waited as their classmates piled out of the changerooms. One of the last to arrive was Amano, wearing a bodysuit that was completely skintight except for the belt and pouches that, if Tenko knew anything about her, probably contained hand sanitiser. She was clearly uncomfortable as she scanned the crowd nervously, and she walked over to Tenko and Mori quickly before turning to stand with her back against the wall.

“You’re so lucky Midoriya. I specifically asked for my costume to be baggy and I just ended up with padding on my chest. This is stupid.” She crossed her arms and frowned, and Tenko gave her an awkward sympathetic look just as Aizawa cleared his throat in front of them.

“Those are some... interesting designs. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to change them in the future.” The positive energy the class was exuding immediately wavered, and Tenko snorted. “As for what we’ll be doing today, I had originally planned an exercise in teamwork and strategy, but the words of a few students yesterday gave me pause. So instead, today’s lesson will be focused on stealth and evasion.” There were excited murmurs from the students as Aizawa continued.

“This is an opportunity for those of you who failed yesterday’s test to prove yourselves worthy. Essentially, the goal of the exercise is to hide somewhere in Ground Beta and avoid being captured.” More murmuring, until a student raised their hand to speak and Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement.

“Isn’t this basically just hide and seek?” The student asked, and Aizawa sighed.

“Essentially, yes. Except that rather than just seeing their target, in order to win the seeker must capture their target and bring them to one of the two gates on either side of the training ground.” Tenko couldn’t help but feel a little excited. If there was one thing his quirk was good for, it was escaping capture.

“So who’s gonna be the seeker? Will we take turns?” A student asked, and a smile crept onto Aizawa’s face as he shook his head.

“Oh, no. You are learning to evade, not to seek. At least for this lesson, you’ll all be going against me.” Immediately, Tenko’s heart dropped into his stomach. If you were playing against Aizawa the capture part of the exercise became effectively pointless. The second the teacher saw you and activated his quirk you were as good as gone. “Now, you will have a ten minute headstart. Off you go.” Aizawa gestured to the gate, and there was a brief pause before everyone began to scramble into the training ground. Mori, of course, immediately used his quirk to launch himself ahead, which left Tenko and Amano alone at the back of the group. They both took a sharp right and ran until they couldn’t see anyone, taking a break to catch their breath.

“Hey, do you wanna team up? I can make you invisible.” Tenko raised his eyebrows, surprised, but then nodded his assent. There wasn’t any rule that stated they couldn’t team up, right? “There is a catch though. You’ll need to show me your quirk.” Amano said, having the decency to at least look a little guilty at the request, and Tenko sighed. Carefully he pulled off one of his gloves and put it in his pocket, flexing his fingers and holding his hand a safe distance away from both himself and Amano. He skimmed the ground with his fingertips until he found a piece of loose concrete large enough, and picked it up with his gloved hand. Slowly he passed it into the palm of his free hand, and Amano watched intently as he closed his fingertips over it and it crumbled.

“Anything I touch with all five fingers decays. It’s very dependent on my emotions, when I was scared I took down that entire zero point robot from the entrance exam in a second, but when I’m more stable it moves slower. Everything eventually disappears completely, though, I can’t stop it. I can’t really control the spread yet either, I haven’t used it a lot.” Amano nodded, looking as though she was deep in thought.

“Well, the gloves make a lot more sense at least. But that could be useful for diversions and stuff. Can your quirk pass between different objects that are touching?” Tenko desperately tried not to think too hard about the first time he used his quirk as he nodded. “Okay, that’s cool. Have you ever tried, like, decaying a rock and then throwing it at something? Because then you could decay things from long distances if the rock connects while it’s still decaying.” Tenko frowned as he thought about it. It’d take practise to keep the decay of the rock slow enough, and some pretty perfect timing for a decaying section to touch the target at the right moment, but theoretically it was possible, wasn’t it? Tenko bent down and began gathering rocks and sticking them in his pockets until they were full.

“Okay, we’re nearly out of time, c’mere,” Amano gestured for him to move toward her, and then reached out and grabbed his arm. She began reaching out to touch each of his items of clothing, and then had to root around in his pockets to get each item contained in them, but eventually he was fully invisible. He waited as she did the same to herself, though it went considerably quicker as her entire costume consisted of only two pieces. Tenko was surprised to realise that he could still see himself and his clothing, and tentatively reached out and touched Amano’s arm. She suddenly reappeared, and the girl’s eyes focused on him too.

“When you’re invisible you can still see anything that’s touching you. The effect extends to other people too, as long as you keep hold of them.” Tenko nodded, and Amano took him by the wrist and led him quietly into a building just as an alarm sounded and Aizawa swung into the arena. He used his capture weapon like a grappling hook, wrapping it around whatever handles he could find and swinging off of them at high speeds. The pair held their breath as their teacher drew closer, and sighed in relief when he shot past.

“If we destroy his scarf the game’s basically over, right? It’d be a lot harder for him to capture people and carry them all the way out of the training grounds without it,” Tenko mused, and Amano nodded.

“Well, yeah, but that’s a bit of a pipe dream isn’t it? Aizawa-sensei probably knows that, there’s no way he’d let anyone get close enough to do it,” she let go of him and disappeared, but he saw her hand leave an imprint on the dewy window.

“We should just stay hidden. We can’t risk getting out early, especially after we both scored low in the test yesterday.” Tenko sighed and dropped the topic, leaning his head against the wall to look forward out of the window.

It was a few minutes before they saw any sign of movement, and Tenko watched with detached interest as a student ran down the street, throwing worried glances over their shoulder as they sped around a corner and disappeared from view. “Looks like Aizawa’s on his way back,” Tenko observed, and he heard Amano shift beside him.

“I’m gonna stay away from the window. I don’t know if him looking in my direction might still cancel my quirk. Tell me what happens.” Tenko moved away to try and keep an eye on the student, catching sight of them waiting just around the side of the building and panting. He looked back to where Amano was probably standing just in time to see a stretch of white fabric shoot past the window, wrapping around something on the roof and pulling Aizawa up behind it.

“He’s on the roof.” Tenko said, and Amano hummed. Tenko looked back down at the other student, silently hoping he would realise what was happening and run away, but the student was too busy peeking around the corner to notice that his soon-to-be-captor was above him instead. Suddenly the kid looked up as if someone had spoken, fear in his eyes, and Tenko finally recognised him. It was the kid who sat next to him in class, who answered roll call to the name that had been just under Tenko’s in yesterday’s quirk test. If he was caught here, it was safe to say it was over for him.

Tenko didn’t even think to ask Amano or let her know where he was going, he just started running. He threw himself down the stairs, just managing to stay upright as he landed and sprinted out of the building. He ran around to where the kid stood, wrapped in Aizawa’s scarf, just as Amano yelled out at him from the window.

“Midoriya!?” She yelled, and it was just loud enough to draw Aizawa’s attention to the window. His red eyes darted to the side, and Amano suddenly flickered into view. Tenko reached out in a last-ditch attempt to grab the scarf, but Aizawa’s gaze caught him just in time and Tenko’s hand did no damage.

“sh*t!” Tenko cursed, and shot an apologetic look to the wrapped up student before turning on his heel and taking cover behind the nearest building. What could he do? He couldn’t get close without being seen, and he won’t have the time to have Amano turn him invisible again before his classmate is whisked away to his expulsion. Tenko grit his teeth, scratching at his neck as his eyes darted around for an answer, and his hands fell still as he looked downward and remembered Amano’s suggestion.

He only had one shot, once he did it Aizawa would recognise his goal and run off, he’d never get another chance. Tenko fished a rock out of his pocket, holding it tightly in his naked palm with his pinky raised. He aimed at the building next to where Aizawa was searching the windows, brought his fingers down onto the rock, and threw. He watched it sail through the air, trying his best to keep the decay moving as slowly as possible, and when it hit the wall he screamed.

He screamed and dug down into his chest for every bit of emotion, every scrap of anger he could hold in his body and let it out, using the power of his rage to make his quirk flair up and engulf the building in mere seconds. Chunks of rock and flecks of dust came raining down on top of them all, and when Aizawa’s eyes instinctively closed Tenko darted forward, one hand outstretched while the other pulled his mask up over his face.

He grabbed ahold of Aizawa’s capture scarf and kept running, not even giving himself the time to check if it had worked in case Aizawa opened his eyes. Once he was under cover he turned back, just in time to see his classmate drop to the ground and take off running as his binds disappeared. The final scraps of the scarf disappeared from around Aizawa’s neck, and Tenko sighed in relief as he turned away and leant against the wall.

His eyes stung like hell from all the dust and there were tears streaming down his face, but he was happy. He pulled down his mask and coughed, then an alarm blared to signal the end of the exercise.

= = =

Tenko rubbed at the budding bruise on his arm as he wandered the stands, looking for an isolated spot to sit and watch the tournament section of his first sports festival. He’d gotten out in the second event, an obstacle course that was simply impossible to beat without a quirk of some kind. They hadn’t allowed him to take his gloves into the event as they’d been deemed unnecessary, so it was really only a matter of time considering he could hardly touch anything.

Tenko winced as he sat down and bumped the bruise on his thigh, and then jumped in his seat when he looked up to find Present Mic standing over him. He averted his gaze, crossing his arms tighter over his chest as his homeroom teacher looked down on him.

“Hey, lil’ listener, how are you feeling?” Tenko just sighed, sinking further into his seat.

“Mad,” he finally responded, and Mic nodded solemnly before sitting down beside him.

“I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t use your quirk at all today. You probably could’ve gotten further if you had, y’know.” Present Mic was approaching the topic cautiously, as if he could tell there was some kind of backstory to it, but it only made Tenko’s blood boil. He wasn’t some fragile kid anymore.

“I just didn’t want to.” He huffed, and Mic raised an eyebrow. Tenko tried to will him to leave, but it appeared that his teacher was determined to get to the bottom of the problem. “There were too many people. Moving around too fast.”

“Do you have trouble controlling your quirk?”

“Not really, not anymore. I just...” Tenko trailed off and looked away to avoid Mic’s bright red gaze, but the teacher just leaned in closer to him. Mic reached a hand out toward his shoulder, but when Tenko drew away the man allowed it to drop.

“I can’t help you become a good hero if you don’t tell me what’s holding you back, Midoriya-kun,” he chided softly, and Tenko took a shaky breath as he looked back into those red eyes and all of his memories came flooding back. His father’s eyes had been red, too.

“I just... I don’t want to use it when there are that many people running around. I know I could use it on the ground to stop people, or on ropes or robots or whatever, but in such a big crowd I’m worried that I might miss and hit someone, or that it might spread to a person if I get too freaked out.” Tenko’s vision blurred as tears welled in his eyes, and Mic hummed sympathetically.

“But you have better control now, don’t you?” Mic pushed, hand outstretched, and Tenko slapped it away.

You don’t get it. I can’t stop it, Sensei! If I mess up, everyone dies. You were watching the entrance exam, you saw how fast it can go.”

“Well, yes, but that can be said about a lot of quirks. I don’t think it’s wise to suppress yourself like this in case of such an unlikely—“

“It’s already happened once!” Tenko snarled, wiping furiously at his eyes. “It’s already happened once, and I’d rather drop out and die than have it happen again.” Tenko stood and stormed away, hands already rising toward his neck, and Mic sighed.

He stood to go back to the commentator booth for the third event, pondering Midoriya’s troubles as he went. He was definitely traumatised, and he had a severe lack of confidence in his control over his quirk that implied far more than just a lack of training. Mic wasn’t dumb, he knew what had happened. He grimaced at the thought, it wasn’t hard to guess considering Tenko’s quirk and the sudden nature of quirk manifestation.

The kid needed help, that much was certain.

= = =

“Alright listeners, today you’ll be choosing your hero names! Each of you write your idea down on your board, and we’ll take turns presenting to the class. Anybody got theirs sorted?” A few hands went up, but Tenko’s remained firmly gripping his desk as he stared down at that board. He’d never given proper thought to a hero name—he wasn’t exactly the creative of the family—and Izuku was still at that age where he would only suggest All Might ripoffs. Tenko picked up his marker, pressing it to the board, but still no inspiration struck.

“Okay, this is what I came up with. Since my quirk involves making things invisible and bringing them back, I decided on ‘The Surveillance Hero; Blink’.” Amano said awkwardly from the stand, and the class applauded her.

“Blink! That’s a great choice, super easy to say and remember! Okay, who’s next?”

Hands? No, that was just weird. Ash, maybe Dust? Just copy his quirk and name himself Decay? That sounded downright criminal! That was the problem with Tenko’s quirk, it was evil. No good hero name could come out of a quirk suited to a villain.

“Midoriya, how about you?” Mic called, and Tenko shook his head. The teacher continued to beckon him though, and Tenko shot him a look as he stood, carrying his empty board and his marker. What the hell was he going to do!?

Tenko got to the podium and scratched absently at his face, brain moving a mile a minute. If choosing his hero name because of his quirk yielded no good results, he’d have to pick a name for himself instead.

“It’s okay if you aren’t ready, Midoriya-kun.” Tenko grimaced, and a name flickered briefly in his mind. Shimura? Tenko shook his head, scribbled furiously on the board, and turned it around to face his class.

“Tenko. Just Tenko. I... don’t want a hero name yet.” The class clapped nervously, sparsely, and Tenko returned to his seat with a sigh. He hadn’t gotten any internship offers thanks to his abysmal performance in the Sports Festival, his lack of a hero name could hardly affect a career that hadn’t even begun.

When Tenko got home he flopped backward into his bed, tears threatening to well up the second he was alone. Could he be a hero? He’d scored well in the entrance test, sure, but every event following had left him in the dust. The apprehension test, the sports festival, almost every one of his hero training classes. Clearly it’d been a fluke.

Maybe it would be in his best interest to just... give up.

= = =

The next day Tenko arrived early, nodding briefly at Present Mic before moving to sit in his chair.

“Midoriya,” the teacher said, and when Tenko turned back to look at him he was beckoned closer. “Are you able to stay behind after hero training today?” Tenko nodded cautiously, and Mic smiled at him before ushering him back to his seat. What the hell was that about?

True to his word, Tenko saw Present Mic walk into the sparring room about ten minutes before hero training ended. Tenko turned back to his partner, rolling his wrists before signaling to start. His partner took a step forward, arms raised in a block, and Tenko dropped to his knee, swept out his opponent’s leg, and straddled his back to press him face-down into the crash mat. His opponent struggled for a moment then sighed and tapped the mat, signalling Tenko’s 7th win of the day. What he lacked in quirk development, he apparently made up for in combat training.

“Alright, all of you change out of your hero costumes and then you can head home,” Aizawa said, then caught sight of Mic in the doorway and paused. “Except you, Midoriya.” All eyes immediately turned to look at him, and Tenko wrung his wrists nervously as he walked against the crowd toward his teachers.

“Um, why am I...”

“We’re going to help you practise controlling your quirk output! Well, I’m going to help, and Aizawa-sensei will be here in case anything goes wrong.” Mic produced a stack of paper from somewhere, taking one sheet off of the pile and putting the rest of them on the floor. “Essentially, you’re going to grab the corner of the piece of paper, I’m going to give you a number, and you’re going to try and decay the piece of paper in exactly that amount of time.” He held the piece out, and Tenko held it with his pinky finger raised. “First let’s get a baseline, just decay it at your regular speed.”

Tenko took a deep breath and lowered his pinky, watching the paper flutter to the floor as it disintegrated and trying not to feel anything. Mic’s red eyes flicked up from his watch, and he smiled reassuringly. “That was about two seconds, very good. This time, try to make it last three.” Tenko did as he was told, but the paper ended up disintegrating at the exact same speed as it had the first time.

“Sorry. I kind of know how to speed it up, but I don’t really know how to slow it down. I already feel pretty calm.” Mic frowned, nodding to himself as he thought.

“If it isn’t an emotional thing, it might simply be about focus. This time, rather than focusing on trying to change your emotions, just will the paper to decay slower.” Tenko nodded and took another piece from the pile, eyebrows furrowing as he concentrated all his brain power into slowing the spread of his quirk as much as possible. The paper disappeared beneath his fingers and fell to the floor, but this time it made it all the way down and landed gently before it had disappeared.

“Great work, Midoriya, that was five seconds! It seems like while your quirk’s range of speed gets broader based on your emotions, you can still control it within that range using your head. This time, try to speed it up by bringing it to the edge of that range rather than broadening it entirely.” Tenko nodded, grabbed the piece of paper, and stared it down as he willed his quirk to speed up. “That was about 1.5, good job! Let’s try it again.”

They stayed there for about an hour before the teachers had to go, so Tenko remained sitting on the floor by himself, timing with one hand and disintegrating with another until his fingertips felt raw. He still couldn’t stop it completely no matter how hard he tried, but this was progress. With this, he could actually make use of his quirk without wearing himself out emotionally, it was almost insane that he hadn’t thought of it himself.

Tenko took the train home, sitting in his seat and watching as the few Yuuei students that accompanied him got off at stops far earlier than his on far wealthier streets. If he were less tired he might’ve thought about it more, but as it stood he was too exhausted to do anything more than climb the steps to his apartment and flop into Inko’s hug when she opened the door to greet him, Izuku taking the opportunity to throw himself at them too.

“So, how was your day?” She asked over dinner as she always did, and Izuku leaned forward in interest.

“It was good,” he responded as he usually did too, except this time he meant it.

Chapter 12: Take care of my shirt

Chapter Text

Tenko stood opposite his opponent, hands flexing as he waited for their match to start. He was trying to remain optimistic, he’d made it this far after all, but looking at the student opposite him he had honestly no idea how he could beat her. She was the typical hero type, bold, confident, powerful. Hell, she already had a marketable persona going on, her ice quirk matching her pale hair, blue eyeliner, and cold personality. His one advantage was that ice was tangeable, he could touch it and therefore he could destroy it.

The alarm sounded, and Tenko immediately darted to the side. He could try his best, at least.

The crowd roared as the girl crouched, long hair brushing the ground as her fingertips brushed the arena floor. They’d seen enough of her from the last Sports Festival to know what was coming. Tenko immediately took off running as ice spikes began to form beneath his feet, each one shooting up with little to no warning and threatening to impale him. He lept toward his opponent, hands outstretched to grab hold, but a rounded shield of ice formed from the ground and sent him sliding over the top of her.

He had no control as he fell toward the ground, but he swore he saw the girl smirk as a massive pillar of ice smacked him in the back and launched him up into the air. Despite the ache in his spine he flipped himself over mid-air, landing on his feet at the top of the 20 foot pillar the girl had constructed beneath him. He pressed his palm to it, descending slowly as the pillar dissapeared beneath him and jumping off just before he hit the ground, once again grabbing for his opponent and once again being deflected. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the arena, mind racing as the girl stood and pointed an open palm at him.

What were his options? He couldn’t get to her when she was ready, so he had to throw her off balance. A wall of ice came hurtling toward him and he held out a hand, easily decaying through it before it could push him out of the arena. Before she could begin a second attack he pressed his hands to the floor, grinning at her as his quirk began to eat through the concrete below them and extend towards her. She stood, momentarily fearful for her life as the decay spread, and Tenko ran toward her with a hand outstretched. Her eyes widened and she stretched a palm out to match him, stabbing through his hand with an icicle before dropping to the ground and launching him backward with a massively powerful blast of ice.

Tenko tried his best to grab hold, but in the end he was unsuccessful, flying past the boundary and falling on the grass below, bleeding hand cradled to his chest. A voice rang out declaring the girl the winner and the crowd cheered for her, while Tenko begrudgingly walked to Recovery Girl’s infirmary to get his palm healed.

As he waited in the infirmary for Recovery Girl’s quirk to take effect, Amano and Mori came in to congratulate him.

“You did really well against someone with such a powerful quirk,” Amano reassured, and Tenko shrugged.

“I guess,” he responded, and Mori clapped him on the back.

“C’mon, don’t be bummed. Better luck next time, right?” He shrugged once again, still cradling his injured palm with his now-gloved hand.

“I don’t really mind. Those kinds of battles just aren’t my style, I don’t really perform well in strict boundaries against enemies that already know where I am.” Amano nodded sympathetically, sitting down beside him.

“Yeah, I get that. I don’t want to be a battle hero anyway, it’s a little dumb that they make all of us train like that when my quirk is better suited to intel and rescue. Speaking of—“ she started, energy renewed as she tapped her hands on the uncomfortable bed beneath her. “Did you hear about the trip we’re going on after our internships? Apparently it’s to a new search and rescue facility that some hero runs.” Tenko perked up a little at that, raising an eyebrow in interest.

“I heard Thirteen is running it!” She mock-whispered, laughing at Tenko’s reaction to the mention of his favourite hero.

“Thirteen, seriously?” Amano nodded, grinning.

“That’s what I heard, yeah.” Tenko hummed, swinging his feet a little as the hole in his palm finally began to close.

“That could be cool.”

“Good morning, little listeners! In preparation for your internships later this week, today’s lesson will be dedicated to workshopping your costumes and hero names to better fit your image. Many of you have made major strides this past year, not just in your quirks but in your personalities and goals too, so take today as an opportunity to think about the kind of hero you want to be!” Tenko frowned, leaning back in his chair as he thought. Mori was scribbling away furiously behind him, and Tenko sighed as the front legs of his chair hit the ground with a thunk.

“How’s it going, Midoriya-kun?” Mic said, and Tenko shrugged.

“Good, I guess? I still don’t really know what I want.” Mic hummed, nodding as he spun the diagram of Tenko’s hero costume to face him.

“Well, lets be practical then. What do you think you’re missing, support-item wise?” Tenko drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking back to his failure in the Sports Festival.

“Probably maneuverability? I’m still too slow, or I guess too direct, in head-on battles.” Mic nodded, taking Tenko’s pen and tapping it against the diagram.

“So how would you like to fix that?” Tenko’s first thought was about Aizawa’s capture weapon, but he quickly shook that away. Then he thought about Bakugou, the kid was a brat but his quirk was powerful, one he could use to fly around and even change directions mid-air. Finally he thought of Mori, who could both pull himself toward things and push himself away from them, and nodded.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it. Thank you,” he said, smiling awkwardly at his teacher, and Mic winked.

“Good on ya, listener!” He moved on to another student, and Tenko got to work designing the costume additions he wanted. He felt a bit silly drawing them up, he had no idea how any of this technology would work, but he figured it was in the realm of possibility for the kinds of people who designed costumes that were harder to damage than the people wearing them.

At the end of the class, they were once again asked to announce their hero names, and Tenko could feel the disappointment from the class when he once again went with “Tenko”. It was almost as if there was a chasm in his mind, turning the things that represent him and the things that are accepted by society into two antonymous subjects, things that can never coexist. He sometimes wondered why he was still at Yuuei if he already knew the outcome.

As they piled out of the bus for their “surprise excursion” Tenko felt excitement like electricity lighting up his nerves. This certainly looked like it could be a rescue training facility, like the one Amano had mentioned Thirteen ran. They lined up outside, Aizawa and Mic standing in front of them, when the door opened.

Out stepped none other than Thirteen, renowned rescue hero and Tenko’s idol of over a decade. He’d always made fun of those overdramatic All Might fans, but seeing them in person, he could kind of understand the hero worship. Amano elbowed him playfully, and he pushed her away with a grin.

“Greetings, students! Come on in, everyone.” They all walked into the facility, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the massive, divided building. Looking around, Tenko could see sections dedicated to storm relief, rockslide rescues, water, tundra, even fires. They certainly had a lot to do.

“Welcome to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, AKA the USJ! I built this facility myself, we have zones for flooding, landslides, storms, etc. Every type of disaster you could imagine in order to help you all train to save people to the best of your abilities!” The students cheered, some trying to move ahead, but Thirteen held up a hand.

“Before we start, though, I just want to make one… maybe two, points. Or three.” They said, and Aizawa ducked his face into his scarf, presumably to hide the massive eye roll he did. “As most of you probably know, my quirk is called Black Hole. I can suck up anything and turn it to dust.”

“Yeah! It’s super effective for rescue, right Sensei?” Mori piped up, and Thirteen nodded.

“That’s true. However, my quirk could also easily kill a person. I have no doubt some of you are similar. In our society, the use of quirks is heavily restricted. This may seem stable, but it only takes one mistake, or one deliverate action, for people to die.” Tenko winced at that, he knew all too well what they were saying.

He felt almost like an imposter in that situation, listening to a speech about the dangers of their quirks that was meant to scare people who’ve never experienced it as a reality. He put his hands in his pockets.

“Throughout your year at Yuuei you’ve done a lot of physical and battle training, using your powers to fight others and improve your own strength and mobility. The point of this facility is to show a new perspective: one where you use your quirks not to hurt villains or strengthen yourself, but to save lives!” Thirteen paused for a moment, looking over the crowd and dropping their hands to their sides. “I hope you all leave this facility with the knowledge that as heroes, your quirks aren’t meant to hurt others, but to help them. Thank you for listening!” They said, and the students clapped and whooped politely.

“Great.” Aizawa said, turning around to face the arena. “To start, we’ll split you up into groups of three for the rescue trials. One of you will be the hero, one will be the villain, and one will be the civilian. You’ll get ten minutes for the hero to rescue the civilian, then you’ll leave the arena. With the amount of time we have, each of you should get to play hero in two or three of the different areas. For the two people that aren’t inside one of the rescue zones at any given time, you’ll be sparring with me in the central plaza.” As usual, Aizawa wasted no time explaining the task to them and dividing them into pairs, Tenko ending up with Mori as his civilian and a classmate he remembered being named Akiyama with strong-looking tentacles instead of hair as his villain.

“Remember heroes, the point of the exercise is rescue, not battle. Prioritise that over fighting the villain.” Tenko nodded, standing at the entrance to the Ruins zone with his two teammates.

“Okay villains and civilians, you get a one minute headstart to hide yourselves! Let’s go people!” Mic’s voice rang out through the arena, and Mori gave Tenko a quick wave as he disappeared between crumbling buildings. He fiddled with the new devices on his wrist awkwardly, still not entirely used to them. At the very least, they’d be useful for avoiding his villain.

“Heroes, go ahead!” Mic yelled, and Tenko took a deep breath as he stepped into the zone. He figured it’d be safest to stay low, standing on top of the crumbling buildings might keep him safe, but if the civilian was underneath one then he’d end up crushed if Tenko’s weight caused a building to slip. Tenko crept silently between fallen buildings, checking diligently for traces of Mori, until he heard a voice call out.

“Help! Help, hero! Somebody!” The voice yelled in a poor rendition of fear, and Tenko was left to wonder if Mori had ever been truly scared of anything. Still, he crept quietly toward the civilian, cursing Mori internally for no doubt attracting Akiyama toward him too. Finally Tenko found Mori, trapped delicately beneath a chunk of concrete he no doubt deliberately pulled down on top of himself, and reached out a hand to free him. Just as his palm skimmed the rock, a vicious red tentacle slammed into the ground in front of him, denting the pavement where it hit the ground.

Tenko jumped backward, revealing Akiyama standing above him, feet hanging above the building as each of her tentacles worked to push her off of the ground. Slowly she lowered herself, and her eyes were stormy as one of the scarily-sharp red arms shot toward him.Tenko dodged, rolling behind a sheet of concrete about a foot thick and recoiling as two red tentacles wrapped around it and flung it away like it weighed nothing. This girl was strong! He rubbed at the support gear around his wrists, at the extension pieces resting against his palms, and ran toward his opponent.

He calculated as he ran: distance, momentum, direction, and as he approached a close enough distance he pointed his right hand at the building behind her, pressing fingers into the button in his palm and tensing his shoulder in preparation as the thick grappling device shot out of his wrist and latched onto the building. The rope began to retract, pulling him past his opponent, and as he flew through the air he turned back to face her and extended his left palm outwards, grabbing her by the arm and flinging her ahead of him, straight into a wall. She groaned at the impact, and Tenko let go of the button on his palm to release the hook and dropped gently to the ground as she sank to the floor, momentarily dazed. Tenko decayed the debris below him, freeing Mori from beneath it, and quickly helped him up before they both started running. Akiyama was already up, and Tenko could hear the sound of her tentacles stabbing into concrete getting progressively louder as she pulled herself after them.

“Okay, hold on.” Tenko said, and Mori dutifully threw his arms over Tenko’s shoulders as he once again pointed to a building ahead of them and shot his grappling hook. They began to shoot through the zone toward the exit, barely dodging jagged debris as they went.

“Uh, Midoriya, there’s a wall… Midoriya!” Mori yelled, clutching tightly as a massive piece of debris fell in front of them, and Tenko furrowed his eyebrows in concentration.

“Yup, hold on,” he said, before pointing at the wall with his left hand. Another hook extended and dug itself into the wall, pulling taught, and Tenko waited as they approached it, Mori’s grip tightening over his shoulders. Tenko took a deep breath, and then whipped his left hand downward, launching them up and over the wall before releasing the hook. Mori laughed disbelievingly, and the pair landed on the ground and exited the rescue zone with three minutes left on the clock.

“Dude, that was so cool! Is that your new support weapon?” Tenko nodded, and Mori grinned and clapped him on the back. “So badass.” Mic walked up to them then, nodding approvingly before directing them to the central plazato watch as two of their classmates sparred with Aizawa. A minute or so later Akiyama emerged, reaching out to shake Tenko’s hand.

“Your support item is well-designed,” she said, and Tenko thanked her before they all turned to watch the match. Two students Tenko didn’t really know battled it out against Aizawa, but even with the difference in numbers they were clearly outmatched. Aizawa used his capture scarf to consistently grab and fling them away, disabling their quirks and keeping them that way about 90 percent of the time. Neither of the students were very evasive, which meant Aizawa found it easy to relocate them every time he blinked and gave them only a second or two every minute that they had access to their quirks. Tenko almost felt bad for them.

An alarm sounded to signal the end of their 10 minutes, and the two students collapsed to the ground, panting hard as Aizawa restored their quirks. Everyone gathered around again, and Tenko was given the role of villain and sent to the landslide area.

Tenko spent his one minute head start climbing to the top of the hill, and his quirk made it very easy for him to keep the hero stuck at the base for ten minutes. Every time he began to climb, Tenko would strategically destroy a rock or chunk of buried building and watch as a wave of rock and dirt swept his hero back down.

When the ten minutes was over, Tenko put his gloves back on and shook his opponent's hand. “You would make a great villain,” they smiled, and Tenko grimaced.

A few rounds of playing hero or civilian later, he and Akiyama were left behind to fight Aizawa for their final ten minutes in the USJ. The two of them spent the one minute head start planning, huddled together facing away from their teacher.

“The main thing is to try and cover his eyes. He hasn’t seen me use my new support item yet, so I might be able to get close enough to do that. You could pin him pretty easily with your quirk, right?” Tenko asked, and Akiyama nodded.

“Yes, each of my twenty arms is able to lift and maneuver an amount equivalent to one-hundred and fifty kilograms.” Tenko whistled at the impressive number, and Akiyama smiled.

“He’ll definitely be focused on you, then.” Akiyama agreed, and the two of them got ready to fight. When Mic announced that the heroes could begin, Akiyama and Tenko immediately darted in opposite directions, and as expected Aizawa’s head immediately turned to followed her. Tenko watched her tentacles suddenly drop flat on her head, and he ran at Aizawa from behind. Immediately that capture scarf was wound around his leg, and Aizawa used it to lift him up into the air and then slam him down on the ground. Tenko coughed and grabbed the scarf, but his quirk was already gone. Good.

The end of the scarf unwound from his leg and Tenko stood, circling around Aizawa until he was directly in front of him. He darted forward again, this time ducking under the first swing of the capture weapon and reaching out for his teacher, but the scarf swung back around and flipped him over onto his back once again. Tenko groaned, waiting for a moment to catch his breath before rolling backwards out of range and standing up. Aizawa’s scarf whipped around him violently, daring them to approach, and the teacher spoke.

“You can hardly be a hero if you’re going to hesitate like that.” He scolded, and Tenko scowled as he charged forward again. He dodged the first whip of the scarf, but this time when he stretched out his left hand, it was pointing forward as he launched the shorter device at his teacher. The clawed end grabbed hold of his clothing, and when Tenko was tripped by the scarf, he pulled Aizawa toward him. The teacher pulled out a knife, ready to cut out the piece of shirt that Tenko had a hold on, but with his attention divided the scarf was slower, allowing Akiyama to slip in and grab hold of his arm.

Tenko ran forward, pointing his other hand at Aizawa’s face, and when the teacher flinched and tried to duck under the second impact, Tenko instead grinned and smashed his knee straight up into Aizawa’s nose. With their teacher momentarily disoriented, Akiyama's quirk returned, and she wasted no time wrapping an arm around their teacher’s waist and slamming him face-first into the concrete. A second arm held down his head so he couldn’t turn to look at them, while a third wrapped around his legs to immobilise him completely.

Tenko heard Mic applaud from where he stood at the entry, and Aizawa tapped twice on Akiyama’s tentacle to signal his defeat. He groaned as he stood up, rubbing his forehead.

“So that’s how that feels,” he remarked, and then turned to Tenko and Akiyama. “Let it be known that if we had fought earlier, when I was less tired, I would’ve been able to dodge your support device.” Tenko shrugged in response, rubbing at his spine where he’d no doubt be bruised for the next week.

“Yeah, that’s why I'm doing it now.” Aizawa nodded, apparently accepting that answer, then turned to Akiyama.

“Your quirk is as strong as ever, Akiyama. I’d recommend training your agility without the use of your quirk more in case it ends up broken or disabled.” Akiyama nodded sternly, and then Aizawa shooed them away as he inspected the small holes Tenko had made in his shirt.

As Tenko sat on the edge of the central area, Thirteen quietly shuffled toward him and sat down. “Your quirk is very powerful,” they said, and Tenko blushed.

“Thank you. It’s not very… useful, though. For hero stuff, I mean.” Thirteen hummed, gently patting his back.

“I understand how difficult it is to try and be a hero with a quirk as deadly as yours. You’re scared of using it, right?” Tenko nodded, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and Thirteen tilted their head. “I think that’s good, that you’re worried about it. There are way too many heroes out there willing to kill or seriously hurt villains, they don’t see them as real people and our hero system rewards it.” Tenko agreed, already far too familiar with heroes like Endeavor that hurt both villains and civilians because of his lack of sympathy for other people.

“It is important, though, to remember that they are guilty. And while that doesn’t mean they deserve to die, there’s a difference between just hurting an innocent person and hurting a villain to prevent them from killing innocent people. The system rewards it because it’s easier to do your job as a hero if you don’t think of villains as people.” Tenko furrowed his eyebrows slightly, he wasn’t exactly sure where the conversation was going.

“As a hero, you will be forced to make the choice between preserving your innocence and preserving other peoples’ lives. While your sympathy is sweet, you can’t let it hold you back. Killing villains might not feel right, but sometimes it’s necessary.” Thirteen seemed rigid, the cold metal of their costume seeping into Tenko’s bones. He shivered, that unsettling feeling like a hand around his throat, bringing back that urge to scratch and tear that he thought he was over. He nodded again, and Thirteen patted his back once more before standing and moving on.

Were they right? Thirteen was his idol, he wanted to believe they’d be right. Yet despite it all he couldn’t help but think about his past, about the people who had refused to help him. How long would it have taken for him to resort to stealing to survive? What would’ve become of him if it hadn’t been Inko who found him, but someone with nefarious intentions? He could’ve been the villain, through no real choice of his own. ‘You would make a great villain’ his classmate had said, and he was right. With his quirk, no hero with even an ounce of self-preservation would hesitate. He could’ve been the villain killed in the street, dehumanised in the mind of his killer, and while Thirteen would be upset, they wouldn’t disagree with the choice. The hero wouldn’t face any consequences.

Tenko swallowed past the dryness in his throat, but it couldn’t get rid of the sour taste in his mouth.

Chapter 13: Warm and red

Chapter Text

“You all know the drill. In the past year you’ve done a lot of work on your technique and strategy as heroes, but not a lot on your quirks themselves. Over the next week we’ll be focusing on strengthening your quirks as much as possible. Midoriya, you had the top score on the entrance exam, you go first.” Aizawa summarised, gesturing toward a tree on the edge of the thick surrounding forest. “Just try and decay this tree as fast as you can.”

Tenko stepped forward, unceremoniously removing his glove and pressing his palm flat against the flaky bark of the tree. He only felt it for a second, the decay spreading immediately and eating through the trunk, taking out the entire tree before it could hit the ground. Aizawa nodded, redirecting him back to the group. “Two seconds. Good, but not good enough.”

Everyone else took turns displaying the strength of their quirks, and then they were separated out to train. They were there for quirk training, of course, but Tenko could only go all-out on his quirk so many times before there was nothing left to practise with. So he was grouped in with the strength quirk people, working once again on the physical abilities necessary to use his quirk for hours on end.

By the end of the day Tenko was exhausted, flopping down onto his mattress and groaning at the ache in his muscles. It was already dark out, their dinner made and eaten, and Tenko was ready to pass out. He curled onto his side and tucked his blanket up to his chin, sleep immediately swallowing him whole.

“Tenko…” it echoed, and Tenko furrowed his eyebrows.

“Tenko.” He blinked and his eyes opened, the scene around him blurry and fractured.

“Tenko, you need to stop scratching at your face like that,” she said, blurry. Tenko blinked again, but the image didn’t clear. At least he didn’t think it did, because everything else remained blurry as her perfectly clear hand reached to brush his hair off of his forehead.

“But mom, it’s itchy,” he murmured, voice clear but words slurring, as if lost to his mind. He leant into her palm, her thumb caressing the side of his face gently as he raised his hands to scratch at his eyes.

“Do we need to take you to a dermatologist?” The figure asked, pulling his hands away from his face to wrap them around her, and he shook his head into the crook of her neck.

“No, it’s only itchy at home.”

…He was itchy. So itchy it felt like his neck was splitting at the seams, rivulets of red dripping blood down his throat, pooling in his collarbones and soaking into his shirt.

“Mom?” He asked, and his voice was clear despite the openings in his throat. It was faster now, Tenko swallowed blood into his stomach, inhaled it into his lungs, but the only pain he felt was that itch as it begged him to bury his nails inside his skin.

“Yes, sweetheart?” She asked, blue-grey hands reaching to pet his head lovingly. His fingers twitched.

“Why does dad hate me?” A voice that was not his asked, and he looked up to find her blurred form cracking, littered with deep red lines like the ones that marred his throat. They were clear too, as if on a different plane of existence to the rest of her, cracks running up the very fabric of her being. The blue-grey hands held him closer to her as she cracked and shattered like porcelain, leaving pieces on the ground that hurt to look at.

“What did you do?” Tenko turned, and his voice wouldn’t come out.

“Stop it, Tenko!” Dark hair, dark eyes, a dark expression as the man lunged for him, hands sharp and blue. His face wasn’t blurry, no, Tenko could never forget that expression.

“Stop it!” He said and grabbed, scratched, clawed, and Tenko pushed and kicked and cried but it didn’t work, didn’t work until he reached for the man’s face and he disappeared. It was fine. He hated him.

Tenko inhaled.

Tenko’s vision was sharp when he woke, and it remained that way all through the night as he lay in bed. He tossed and turned, tried to bury his face in his pillow and tried to throw off all his blankets, but nothing could lull him back to sleep. All he could think about was the haze surrounding his only childhood memories. Did he really not remember his mother’s face?

Why were those nightmares returning now? Was it because he was forgetting? Was his mind that determined to deny him his peace? Tenko shook his head, brushing his hair off of his forehead with his own greyscale hands. No, he couldn’t think of it like that. Forgetting his family, what he’d done… that wasn’t real peace. That was ignorance.

He gave up on falling asleep, instead dressing himself carefully and stepping over the slumbering bodies of his classmates to exit the cabins. He wandered around the campsite, skimming fingertips along the bark of trees and the surfaces of lakes, always with one finger raised. He walked, he ran, and eventually he climbed to the roof of the boys’ cabin and sat there, pulling his phone from his pocket. Did he have photos of her?

He scrolled through his camera roll, but the only image of his mother he could find was a photo he’d taken of a newspaper article, displaying a yellowed, poor-quality rendition of a family photo they’d sent to their grandparents in the holidays, before they’d moved in. It made sense this was the only photo they’d had, everybody in his family had lived together, all their photos, physical and digital, in frames or harddrives contained within the house he’d turned to dust.

He stayed on the roof as he watched the sun begin to rise, finally slipping down and falling back into bed just in time for Mic to arrive and wake them all up for training. His eyes lingered on Tenko, clearly noticing that he was already dressed and awake, but he didn’t say anything as he led the group out into the field.

“Okay, today we’re working on your range, which means a lot of throwing rocks at trees for you. Ready?” Tenko nodded, rubbing his eyes as he scraped through the grass until he found a suitable rock. He carefully closed five fingers around it, hurling it at a tree and willing his quirk to carry.

But it didn’t. Tenko frowned, but Mic waved him off.

“That’s okay, just try again.” So he did, and once again the rock hit the tree and bounced off, leaving nothing but a small dent in the trunk.

“Okay, it might be the timing. Let’s start with you just pressing the rock to the tree and trying to decay through it.” Tenko nodded, the urge to scratch growing prevalent as they walked toward the treeline. He grabbed a rock and held it against the trunk of a tree as he closed his fingers around it, willing with all his might for the decay to continue, but it didn’t. Mic frowned, and Tenko brought his hands to his neck.

“I could do it before, I swear. Maybe I’m a little rusty, but it… it feels the same,” he said tentatively, realisation dawning. “I… I had a nightmare last night, and I forgot my mom.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember what she looks like. My dream was… blurry, it was wrong. Do you think maybe—“

“I don’t think that should affect how your quirk works, don’t worry. You can figure it out.” Mic put a hand on his shoulder, smiling gently and interrupting Tenko’s scratching. “You said you had a nightmare? You might just be tired, or too stressed out from the dream. We’ll work on something else.” So they did, and once again Tenko went to bed with his muscles aching, hands cracked in a way they’d never been before from the overuse of his quirk. Maybe all that dust wasn’t so good for him, he should invest in some more permanent hand protection. Fingerless gloves, perhaps?

Tenko’s brain filled with fog, and he nestled further into his pillow. The haze in his mind was peaceful and soft as he drifted to sleep, gloved hands screwed tight into his sheets.

“Aw, don’t cry, Tenko.” He turned to see her, but all he could see were eyes. Dark, dark eyes like his father’s mounted on his grandmother’s blurred form. His grandfather smiled reassuringly at him, a blue-grey hand coming to rest gently on his shoulder.

“You’ll make us cry too.” Tenko wiped his weeping eyes as his grandmother reached out and took his hand , trying to pull him away, trying and failing as those deep red cracks grew up her pale grey form.

Her eyes widened as she broke, reaching for her husband and dooming him to die through her fear. Their skin flickered and cracked like a shattered TV screen, displaying nothing but static as their frail bodies fell apart, glass digging into his palms where their hands still held him, glass stabbing his feet as he walked. The hands clung to his wrist and shoulder stayed there, he didn’t shrug them off as he walked, walked, walked. Into the house as his grandparents’ blood leaked down his legs, leaving footprints on clean tatami floors.

His mother was still in painful pieces on the floor, blurred but still bleeding sharply as if someone had poorly censored the horrific image.

“Stop it, Tenko,” he whispered, and then he heard footsteps.

“Did you go into my office!?” His voice boomed, and Tenko flinched as he looked for somewhere to hide. He ran for the door, trying to escape, but the hands pulled. Those grey-blue hands on his body held him in place, trapped in the house as those footsteps echoed closer.

“You saw, didn’t you!?” He pulled harder but the hands were frozen in time, locked in the middle of the hallway and wrapped around his limb.

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t see anything!” He cried, and his father stepped around the corner.

“You did! Forget about it!” He screamed, grabbing Tenko’s other arm and pulling him toward the backyard. “Forget it all!” He demanded, Tenko’s feet lifting off of the floor as his grandparents’ hand locked him in place and his father tried to pull him away.

“You can never be a hero! Heroes are awful, selfish people! Forget about all of it!” He yelled, and Tenko’s arms burned, his feet kicking at the ground and shoulders aching as he was torn in two.

“No, no! I can’t!” He lifted his legs and kicked at his father, but the man was unwavering.

“You will!” Tenko screamed as he was pulled apart, screamed and turned his wrist in his father’s grasp to grab him, press five fingertips into his flesh as he burned and burned and screamed for freedom. His father turned to look at him, and his eyes blazed red.

“How sad, Tenko Shimura,” he said in a voice not his own, face clear and sharp and smile deadly and decaying as Tenko kicked him away. Tenko fell to his knees, arm and shoulder held in the air by his grandparents, and he cried.

“Please, my arm hurts. Let go,” he sobbed, and the hand remained. “Please, let me go,” he tried again, looking up at the blue-grey limbs, and they clenched around his arm and pulled. They pulled and pulled and dragged him through the house, toward the backyard he’d been dreading and he cried as his shoulder twisted and the floor burned his legs.

“No, no!” He yelled, kicking and tugging desperately at his arm, but they remained unwavering.

The back door slid open on its own and Tenko was pulled into the darkness.

He inhaled.

Tenko gasped when he awoke, pins and needles running up his arms as he cringed in on himself and groaned. His shoulders ached, ghost pains from the dream taking his sore muscles and twisting. The air outside carried frostbite with each breath, and Tenko buried himself deeper under the covers, stretching his legs and shivering at the cold of the unused expanses of his blanket.

He didn’t leave his bed this time, curling in on himself and shivering slightly. That was the second nightmare in a row, why? Was he really forgetting? Was that why his quirk stopped working?

Tenko scowled, gripping his blanket harder. Just his luck to end up with a quirk that only functions when he’s sufficiently traumatised.

…Except it didn’t feel like that was the case. His control over his quirk was always at its best when he was calm, internally at peace. Tenko didn’t know a lot about dreams, but maybe his subconscious was bringing back these memories to try and fix the quirk deficit. Maybe it was trying to put the horror of those thoughts to rest once and for all, to help him come to terms with his past.

Tenko frowned at the blurred, unsettling imagery of his dreams. The faces of static and porcelain, red eyes and mismatched voices. Bloody cracks and shattered pieces, and those death-blue hands holding on to him. If his subconscious was trying to ease his fears, it was doing a sh*t job.

His next few days were all the same, Tenko desperately tried to find meaning in his dreams at night, and desperately tried to regain control of his quirk in the day. The lack of sleep began to pile up, and by the second last day of their training camp the exhaustion had him on the brink of delirium.

“Tenko… are you doing okay?” Amano finally asked, and he nodded.

“I haven’t been sleeping great. But I’m close,” he said, and she frowned.

“Close to what?” She asked, dark sclera looking hollow and bloody. She reached tentatively toward him, and her hands were blue, blue, blue.

“The answer,” he responded quickly, eyeing her hands anxiously, and he stood to go to bed. Mic’s eyes followed him out of the room, but he stayed put. Tenko scuffed the soles of his shoes as he walked, and he kept his head down lest the empty night sky remind him of dark, dark eyes.

He hit his bed face first, and sleep came immediately.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Hana spoke through her static mouth, wringing her hands. Tenko immediately looked to the side, expecting to find that bloody pile that would scare her away, but it wasn’t there. Mon-chan was still standing, watching the two of them intently.

“I was the one who said it had to be a secret. So… sorry.” She took a step closer and Tenko swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn’t choking this time. He could breathe.

He could speak.

“It’s okay,” he said, in a voice too old for his five-year-old body. “I know you were scared. You’re only a kid.” The static in her face flickered, changed, and her eyes blinked back wet tears.

“But… so were you. And I was your big sister, so I was meant to protect you. So I’m sorry.” She stepped forward and knelt down in front of Tenko, taking his deadly hands in hers. “I ran away when you needed me.” He shook his head.

“I’m more sorry,” he said, and her eyes smiled. Her blue thumbs rubbed gently at the palms of his hands, soothing the ache.

“I’m not mad. You didn’t mean to. We both… made mistakes.” Tears welled in Tenko’s eyes and he sniffed, taking his hands back.

“I miss you.” His voice wobbled as he spoke, and tears washed over her static face. “I’m forgetting you. I don’t want to.”

“It’s okay. You can forget if it helps,” she reasoned, her voice solemn. Far too knowledgeable for the kid it belonged to.

“It doesn’t. I don’t want to forget.” Her hands reached to cradle his face, and despite the blue they were warm to the touch.

“It’s okay, Tenko.”

“But… I killed you, Hana-chan,” she shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her as she pulled him into her arms.

“I just want you to be happy,” Hana said, and Tenko could feel her tears dampening his hair. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes you are,” Tenko said, pulling back to look her in the dark, dark eyes. Her static faded, and he saw her lips pull into a wonky smile.

“Not at you.” She petted his hair, pushing tear-stained strands off of his forehead. “I forgive you.” She took his hand again, leaning back as if she wanted to stand. Tenko gripped her hand harder, trying to hold her in his memory.

“I’m just sad that you won’t forgive yourself.” Her hand slipped from his grasp and she stood, turning back towards the house.

“Don’t leave,” he begged, and she smiled back at him.

“It’s been a long time, Tenko. I won’t be mad if you forget me,” she spoke softly, but as tears began to leak from her eyes once more Tenko knew she was lying.

“I know you’re sad,” Tenko said, and Hana wiped her tears with her grey-blue hands.

“Of course I am. I miss you a lot.”

“Then stay.” She sniffed, smiling wide at him. He knew she wanted to, he knew leaving made her sad. How could she do that for him? After everything?

“…Sometimes sad things happen, Tenko. I’d rather you forget me than hate yourself.”

“I can do both. I can remember you and also not…” he swallowed, and Hana’s smile became morose. “I can do better.”

“I know you can. But you deserve forgiveness even if you don’t.” Tenko’s fingers dug into the ground, pulling up grass as he tried to hold back his tears.

“How could I forgive myself when I hurt you?” Tenko asked desperately, and Hana shrugged.

“You forgave me.”

Tenko couldn’t speak, throat clogged with emotion as she turned away from him. He tried to follow but his body was heavy, the same hands anchoring him to his reality also holding him in that spot. She opened the door and wiped her eyes again, a silhouette facing him and surrounded by bright light.

“I’ll always be cheering for you, Tenko!” He could feel the warmth of her grin, her arm raised high as she waved, and then she closed the door between them.

It was pitch black outside as Tenko allowed the dam to break, tears dripping off of his nose as he curled down toward the ground. He heard that once familiar jingle of a collar, and looked up to see Mon-chan standing over him.

The dog’s tail wagged as they made eye contact, and when Tenko opened his arms Mon-chan immediately moved toward the embrace.

“I miss you too,” Tenko whispered, and the dog licked the tears from his cheeks.

Tenko breathed in, then breathed out.

Tenko woke the next morning to Mic’s voice, sitting up blearily as he called them out for their final day of training. Mic watched him rub his eyes and grinned, entering the cabin to squat down in front of him.

“Have a good rest?” He asked, and Tenko rubbed his eyes as he nodded. “Good to hear, little listener. Training starts in fifteen.”

Tenko wandered to the bathroom, alone amongst white tile as everyone else headed out to the field. He splashed water on his face to clear the sleep from his eyes, running his fingers through tangled hair as he looked himself in the mirror.

He wouldn’t forget. He’d always remember his family, his mother in the delicate way the scars on his eyes healed, his sister in the warmth of his held hands. His father in the scar on his lip. As time progressed the details may become blurry, but he’d never forget who they were.

Tenko stepped out of the building and headed to Present Mic for his training.

They started simple, pressing a rock to a tree and trying to decay them both. Tenko took a deep breath in the field, trying his best to bring up the memories of his family, and recalled the image of Hana’s face in his dream.

She’s not mad at me, he thought, picking up the rock from the ground.

She forgave me. He walked towards the tree, stone held carefully in his hands.

She wants me to forgive myself. He pressed the rock to the bark of the tree, closing his eyes. Carefully he wrapped his fingers around it, willing his quirk to pass. Tenko stood still, eyes remaining closed, until he heard Mic whooping behind him.

“Good on ya, Midoriya-kun!” He opened his eyes to find the tree before him gone, nothing but a pile of dust and a few holes in the ground where the roots had once been. “Let’s take a step back now.”

Eight hours later it was finally over, and they all gathered around to demonstrate their progress. Tenko steeled himself to be called up first, but Aizawa announced that they would go in the reverse order they had on the first day, putting Tenko last. So he waited, gloved hands in his pockets and see thinking about his dreams. He’d made peace with Hana, with his mother, his dog and his grandparents, but his father remained a terrifying phantom in his mind. He wasn’t really at peace, though he sensed dealing with his father was always meant to be a conscious choice rather than something handed to him in a dream.

“Okay, Midoriya.” Tenko blinked at the sound of his name, nodding awkwardly and moving toward a tree. He worked himself up, preparing to go as fast as he could, but once he took the glove off he turned to look at Aizawa and only saw dark hair, dark eyes.

Tenko’s eyes widened as he felt his quirk flare, turning back to the tree to find it and several behind it gone. His quirk was still going, travelling between touching branches and devouring the forest around them at an alarming rate. He turned back to dark eyes, waiting for them to save him, but they didn’t.

“Turn it off, Midoriya.” Tenko shook his head, raising his hands to his face.

“I can’t!” He said, gesturing toward the forest. “You know I can’t!” Tenko glanced briefly into the audience, his entire class standing and watching him as he broke down and tore apart their surroundings. Why wouldn’t anyone help me?

Tenko looked back into the emptying forest to find himself, surrounded by blood and ash. “He deserved it,” the kid said, hair greying at the roots, and Tenko looked down. He thought about what Thirteen had told him, about necessary sacrifices. About the way that some villains had to die. About the discomfort it made him feel.

“No, he didn’t.”

“But he hated me,” the kid said, slightly unsure as his bottom lip trembled.

“He shouldn’t have died for it,” Tenko said, believing the words even as speaking them brought him pain.

“I won’t forgive him,” he said sternly, hands gripping the grass below him. Tenko nodded, reaching out to brush greying hair off of his forehead.

“You don’t have to, he hurt you. Us.” Tenko said, smiling at the kid. “But what he did… it doesn’t warrant death. Almost nothing does.” He stood back up, looking around at the empty yard plot around him. The small piles of dust that had once been his home, the gore that had once been his family.

“Nobody else is going to die by my hands.” The kid nodded, and Tenko blinked. He looked around at the expanse of forest, definitely damaged but no longer shrinking. He looked to Aizawa, still-dark eyes appraising him with something almost like approval, and then back at the half-damaged trees lining the outskirts where his quirk had abruptly stopped. He had done that.

“See?” Aizawa said, tucking his face into his scarf, and Tenko smiled.

“Nice one, Midoriya!” Mic shouted from the back of the group, and Aizawa rolled his eyes as the other teacher clapped.

Aizawa sent them all to get back in the bus, and Mori and Amano immediately ran over to him. “You figured out how to stop it?” Mori asked, and Tenko nodded.

“I think so. I’ll probably need to keep the gloves on though since I can’t stop it from working entirely.” Amano nodded, clapping him on the back.

“Still, that’s a crazy development!” Mori nodded along excitedly, then ran ahead to get into the bus. Amano’s hand on his shoulder turned softer, and she leaned in further to whisper. “Are you feeling better?” She asked, and Tenko nodded.

“Yeah, I think so.” He yawned, covering his mouth with one hand while Amano grinned at him. “I just need a nap.” Amano nodded, pulling him further forward toward the bus.

“Well luckily for you, we have an hour-long bus trip ahead of us.” Tenko groaned, smiling as Amano pulled him by the hand toward the rest of the class.

Chapter 14: I hope you think of me

Chapter Text

“This is so embarrassing,” Tenko muttered, looking around Gym Gamma. “They really expect us to create special moves and name them? I’m not a video game character.”

Amano shrugged, pulling up her mask.“I dunno. It’ll be hard to even think of anything, it’s not like there are many different ways to turn things invisible.” She pressed her palms together, turning herself and everything she was wearing invisible at the same time.

“You have that new window thing though, right? That could be a special move,” Tenko suggested, and Amano reappeared so that he could watch her roll her eyes.

“Oh yeah? What am I gonna name it? Peeping Tom?” Tenko snorted, and Amano shoved him playfully as they walked into the middle of the training gym. Mori and Akiyama were already out there, motivated as always as they demonstrated their powerful, versatile, heroic quirks while shouting their special move names aloud.

“What about this?” Tenko pulled his filtered mask over his face, taking a step forward and pressing his hand to one of the pillars extending from the ground. His decay spread up the pillar quickly, creating a thick cloud of dust that Tenko had to squint his eyes against. “In a real fight this would probably be an empty building or something, I’d use it as a distraction.” Amano paused to think for a moment, fanning the dust particles away from her face.

“Name it Justified Vandalism,” she joked, and Tenko laughed.

“Better than anything I could come up with, honestly.” Just as he finished speaking Mori dropped between them, looking down at Tenko disappointedly.

“C’mon guys, take this seriously! Special moves are super important to your brand as a hero!” Mori thought for a moment, tapping his foot on the ground before snapping his fingers in realisation.

“What about your long distance move, where you throw a rock at something and they both decay? That could be a special move.” Tenko nodded, skimming the ground for a rock and hurling it at the pillar on the other side of the room. It decayed quickly, and the classmate standing on top of it hit the ground with a groan.

“It’s good, but it’s basically just a ranged version of the last one.” Amano noted, and Tenko hummed.

“I could call it ‘Justified Vandalism: No Witnesses’,” Tenko grinned, and Amano laughed as Mori’s near-permanent smile faltered.

“Are you sure you wanna call it that? I mean naming your moves after crimes is a little… villainous, right? I thought you wanted to avoid that kinda stuff.” Tenko frowned, sticking his hands in his pockets as he shrugged.

“I guess so…”

Amano pulled her mask up, shoulders hunched as she kicked a rock across the floor. “Heroes name their special moves violent sh*t all the time, he’ll be fine with a little vandalism. It’s not like he’s decaying a person,” she objected, and Tenko nodded.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Mori looked uncertain, but let the issue drop without much of a fight.

“Okay, well, what else?”

“Oh! You could use your grappling hook thing to grab onto something and pull it straight into your hand. And you could say that line from Mortal Kombat, y’know…” Amano mimed flinging a hook forward and pulling it back harshly, then extended a hand to grab hold of her imaginary catch.

“What, Scorpion’s move?” Tenko smiled incredulously, and Amano nodded.

“Yeah! I mean, you said it’s like being a video game character, right?” Tenko grinned and nodded, clenching his hands into fists.

“Even the way your grappling hooks trigger is kind of like that American hero, right? The spider one? Hero-fan heroes are all the rage these days,” Amano continued sagely. “People find it very charming.”

“Okay, I guess this is kinda fun.”

= = =

“Okay, listeners! We’ve arrived, how is everyone feeling?” A chorus of answers came from the students in the bus, ranging from excited affirmatives to anxious mutterings. Present Mic smiled at them, leaning against the wall.

“Aw, don’t worry! You’re one of the strongest classes I’ve had in a while, and you’ve been training a lot. Stick together, stay focused, and I’m sure you’ll all pass the exam with flying colours. Let’s go!” Mic stood back as everyone filed out of the bus, looking up in awe at the stadium before them. There were plenty of students from other schools milling around too, and Tenko recognised the Shiketsu uniforms on a scary-looking group of third years before them.

“We should stick together.” Mori clapped Tenko on the back as he stopped beside him, and Tenko nodded.

“Yeah, more people means a more versatile party that’ll be harder to overwhelm. We should try to get as much of the class together as possible.” While Mori was certainly a breakout star in their class, Tenko was… hardly beloved. Any people that may have been interested in teaming up with Mori for the sake of his protection are sufficiently scared away by the unreliability of Tenko’s quirk. A person who’s main strategy is to rip apart his surroundings is not one that makes for a manageable ally.

Amano stepped up beside him, mask up and eyes steely.

“It’s a 50% pass rate. Let’s make sure we all get our licences on the first try.” Mori agreed, throwing his arms over their shoulders.

“‘Course we will, we’re some of Yuuei’s best students.” Tenko hummed, looking around at the other students eyeing them all viciously.

“Speaking of…” Tenko caught sight of Akiyama on the other side of the group. He waved her over, and she weaved through the crowd toward them quickly.

“Akiyama and Mori were the top two at the sports festival this year, which means other students have definitely seen your quirks and attack styles before. The higher level enemies probably know me and even Amano too.” Akiyama nodded solemnly, her hair wriggling slightly in the thick hair tie she had it pulled back in.

“Yes, we will be targets from the beginning. It is crucial we stick together to make sure we can survive the initial minutes of the event,” she commented, and Tenko glanced around the group.

“Definitely. We should keep an open mind though, we still don’t know what the game actually is. It could be good to split up once that first trial is cleared.” Before the conversation could continue, Mic came up to usher them into the building, humming out loud reassurances and tips.

“Don’t worry too much, little listeners. It’s a 50% fail rate, but most of that 50% comes from the other hero schools that aren’t as good as Yuuei or Shiketsu. In reality, about 80% of Yuuei students pass their exam on their first try, and every single one makes it by their second attempt. You’ll all do great.” Mic gives them one final smile and a thumbs up before they’re swept into a massive hall, standing practically shoulder-to-shoulder with the other applicants. Tenko looked around, taking in his surroundings until a man cleared his throat on the stage, grabbing their attention.

“Welcome to the provisional hero licence exam. Here, you’ll be tested to find out if you have what it takes to become heroes.” The man paused, blinking slowly as he looked down at his podium.

“Your provisional hero licence will allow you to act as a stand-in hero in emergency situations, without needing the permission of a fully-licenced pro.” The man flicked through the notes on his podium, and Tenko shot Amano an incredulous look as he yawned audibly.

“The Provisional License exam is designed to allow students who excel in any area of heroism to succeed. As such, there are three ways to pass." The man stepped to the side, wavering slightly in place as he gestured up to the massive screen behind him. The screen flickered to life, briefly flashing the HPSC logo before switching to a diagram of a thick wristband.

"The first method is tailored toward battle and stealth heroes, and requires an examinee to capture or sneak up on a fellow hero-in-training and activate the switch on their wristband. Activating this switch disqualifies its wearer, and passes the person who switched it." The adjudicator pressed a button, fumbling slightly with the controller before the screen switched to show an image of a stuffed crash test dummy with the word 'civilian' printed across its blank face.

"The second method is for search and rescue heroes, and involves finding our civilians and relocating them to the safe zone at the far end of the arena. An examinee who saves three civilians will pass, provided the civilians didn't sustain too much additional damage." The image of the dummy changed to an x-ray view of its insides, where a small device tracked the doll's movement.

“There are one-thousand, one-hundred students here today. The exam will end when either half of you pass, or the thirty minute timer runs out. Whichever comes first, we don’t have all day.” The speaker checked his watch, then gestured to the people behind him. Supervisors in suits and sunglasses moved through the crowd, handing out the wristbands with expressionless faces. The whole thing seemed a lot more formal than it needed to be, Tenko thought.

“They’re a little overdressed,” he commented, and Amano snorted.

“It’s likely intentional, to intimidate us. They want to weed out those who perform poorly under pressure,” Akiyama muttered, accepting her wristband graciously. Tenko hummed, taking a band and clipping it securely around his right wrist.

“So, are we sticking together?” Amano asked, and Tenko nodded.

“Yeah. It’ll be easier to make sure none of us get caught off guard if we can watch each other’s backs.” The adjudicator turns off the screen behind him, skimming through his notes briefly.

"So. Thirty minutes, two methods of passing… Oh! One final rule, for the sake of fairness." Amano and Tenko locked eyes, the chatter in the room dying down as everyone turned their attention back to the adjudicator.

"While kindness is certainly a virtue of a good hero, a good examinee it does not make. To prevent any of our good-hearted heroes from carrying unworthy allies across the finish line, teamwork is not permitted. Good luck!" The building creaked violently, and Tenko was ripped from his train of thought as the walls began to fall outward, the roof swinging open until the room was entirely flattened around them. The students were all swept unceremoniously toward the edge of the platform, Tenko just barely missing Amano's outstretched hand as they were separated by the crowd. He'd known that he'd have to face the exam alone, but anxiety stirred in the pit of his stomach as he found himself surrounded by strangers. By competitors.

The surrounding arena was made up of several different environments, but one was clearly expected to be the most popular: the majority was a sprawling cityscape, high-rise buildings in varying states of decay, exposed industrial piping that billowed steam and smoke into the air over narrow streets. Not only is it an environment they were likely all comfortable with from their daily lives, it provided plenty of cover, as well as vantage points and plenty of potential improvised weapons. Tenko knew it would be his best bet, but he also knew that most of his competitors would feel the same. Scanning for other options he noticed a large churning lake, the aforementioned 'safe zone' right beside it and surrounded by flashing red and blue lights. On the opposite end of the arena stood a rocky hill surrounded by shifting dirt and rubble, the peak of which spewed dark ash into the air. His quirk may have been useful on the hill, but not if there was going to be volcanic activity involved.

Tenko could feel the eyes of his opponents drilling into him from all directions. He may want to avoid fighting, but to every other student taking the exam he was a prime target. They knew his quirk, had seen his history. Against anyone with a modicum of quirk-enhanced strength or range, Tenko was essentially a civilian with a grappling hook. He couldn't even hide from them like Amano could. He realised belatedly just how often he relied on Amano's invisibility in stealth trials, he'd rarely had to hide for himself since first year.

The announcer let them know they had 10 minutes to find a good position within the arena, and Tenko hung back so that the others wouldn't be able to follow him. Several students stayed behind anyway, though, arms crossed as they stared him down and made their intentions clear: the second the exam started, they would attack him. Tenko took a deep breath and stepped off of the ledge, falling toward the city for a moment before shooting his hook at a nearby building, swinging down into a roll to kill some momentum before he took off down the street. He kept his eyes peeled for collapsed or unstable buildings, trying not to let the occasional sounds of scuffed soles or heavy breathing from behind distract him from his goal. There were two people tailing him directly, likely a few more who hung back to pick off anyone who'd be weakened by the fight. Mic had said most Yuuei students passed regardless of their disadvantage, but those past students had surely been allowed to team up. As it stood, almost all of his classmates would be dealing with at least two opponents similar to his own. Tenko ducked into the remains of a high rise building, reduced to a single story almost entirely buried by rubble. He checked the area for civilian dummies, and then leant back against the wall to catch his breath.

He would never be able to carry a civilian all the way to the safe zone with those two on his back, which meant he needed to get rid of them. By that point, though, there wasn't much point in leaving them there and continuing to look for civilians, when he could simply disqualify one of them instead. They'd forced his hand. While he'd prefer the second pass method, it was basically impossible for him with the hand he'd been dealt. He would have to fight.

The building shuddered, a support beam splintering somewhere above. The entire thing would come down the second one of those beams broke, trapping anyone inside beneath the rubble. If he could trick even one of his stalkers into coming inside, he could leave them there until he lost the other, and come back around to dig them out and disqualify them the second he had the time. Tenko dug into his pockets, rolling out a coil of rope and throwing it over the splintered support beam, wrapping it around a couple times before tucking the end into his back pocket and peering out the window. He watched as a shadowed figure ducked out of sight behind a wall, but the other person was nowhere to be seen.

"Boo!" Tenko jumped back, instinctively ducking out of the way of an attack that never came. Instead when he turned, fingers twitching in his modified open-palm defensive stance, he saw the second of the two figures, tall and hooded, leaning nonchalantly against the opposite wall.

"You're so jumpy," the person teased, stepping forward to grab hold of the rope still hanging from the ceiling. "This is cute. Might work on that other guy, but you'll need to be a little smarter to get away from me."

An alarm sounded and the figure lunged at him, one hand ripping the rope from his pocket while the other swung forward in a reckless right-hook, fist a solid metre from hitting its target. Nevertheless, Tenko felt pain explode across his cheekbone as a phantom punch landed, sending him reeling. Tenko ducked under their arm as they swung a second punch, thankfully avoiding whatever phantom attack had hit him the last time as he put distance between them. Immediately he shot his grappling hook at them, the clawed end grabbing their arm and yanking them off balance. Tenko pulled as hard as he could, sliding between their legs as they stumbled so that the rope tripped them onto their back. Tenko lunged forward immediately, one hand decaying their hood while the other pressed down on their exposed throat, middle finger slightly raised.

"No sudden movements," he hissed, "it'd be a shame if someone died today." His opponent remained perfectly still, eyes wide and Tenko took a shuddering breath as his composure returned.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to threaten you," he muttered, and the figure relaxed for a moment before Tenko let go of their throat and flipped them, pulling their hands harshly behind their back to check for their wristband. He checked and double checked, but the wristband was nowhere to be seen, and when one of the opponent's hands closed he felt a phantom hand grab hold of the back of his shirt and yank him off of them.

"You almost had me for a second there," the opponent laughed breathlessly as they jumped to their feet, backing away to the other side of the room once more. "Pity you don't know me as well as I know you, Midoriya."

"Enlighten me, then." The opponent giggled, dropping into a mock curtsy that made dark bangs fall into their face. It also made their long black skirt pull up slightly, revealing a pair of blue tights and a thick black wristband around their ankle.

"Alright. You can tell all your friends at Yuuei after this that it was Miss Mime that beat you." They–she, if the name was anything to go by–charged forward again, and Tenko bolted up the stairs to the exposed second story. While the other people that had followed him certainly weren't his allies, they probably wouldn't approve of someone taking Tenko's wristband out from under them.

He scraped his fingers across an exposed support beam as he ran, the building shuddering as the stairwell collapsed around his opponent. He watched her mime grabbing and moving debris, however the pieces that moved were never touched by her real hands. It had to be some kind of invisible limb or telekinesis, where she could move her hands and have the same effects occur somewhere further away, like the phantom punch or when she'd somehow grabbed him by the back of his shirt. She clearly didn't need to see the location for it to work, since she'd been face down when grabbing his shirt, but it had to be relatively short-ranged as she'd done nothing to stop him when he'd grappling-hooked her.

She finally made it up the stairs, skirt billowing in the wind and exposing the band on her ankle once again. Tenko crouched low to the ground, and the girl grinned as she approached.

"It's improper to glare at a girl's exposed ankles, you know," she teased, and Tenko flushed a little just as a window shattered on the adjacent building. Tenko watched in slow motion as a small pellet blasted through his right hand, a splatter of blood from the girl's stomach indicating that she'd been hit in her side. Her eyes went wide, legs giving out, and Tenko instinctively lunged forward to pull them both away from their attacker. His gaze darted up to the source, where the shadowed figure from before once again ducked behind a wall, and he pressed his uninjured palm to the floor beneath him.

What the f*ck. What. The. f*ck.

Tenko grabbed hold of Miss Mime as they fell through the decaying platform, landing on his feet and lowering her to the ground.

"Are you alright?" He said, trying to keep his tone level even as his mind spiralled. Are they seriously allowed to shoot each other in here?

"Yeah. We're just lucky his proposed upgrades didn't get approved. Those ones exploded," she chuckled humourlessly, pressing a hand to her wound and grimacing when it came away bloody.

"You know him? And he still shot you?"

"He's a third year. This is his last chance to pass, so I guess I understand it," she sighed, sitting back and sticking her leg out at him.

"Well? You should probably just pass before he comes down here to finish the job." Tenko's left hand drifted toward his neck, eyeing the band as he considered their position. If he passed, that guy would probably go on to track down a different member of his class, another rescue-focused student he could stalk and shoot when the time was right. A student who may well come away with far worse than a small hole in their hand.

"Nah. If I don't disqualify him, he'll just hunt down one of my classmates." Miss Mime blinked, her leg dropping to the floor unceremoniously.

"But this is his last shot at the exam. If you disqualify him he won't get his licence," Tenko scoffed, already pulling a roll of gauze out of his belt pocket and handing it to her.

"I don't think some trigger-happy seventeen year old should have any kind of licence." He handed her a bottle of antiseptic, then stood to leave.

"You don't have to help. In fact, you literally aren't allowed to." Tenko pressed his back to the wall, peering out of the corner of his eye at the shattered window he'd been shot through. If the guy intended to disqualify Tenko, he'd be moments away from arriving to finish the job to make sure Tenko didn't pass from Miss Mime's wristband.

"Wait–he isn't using an actual gun. If you go in there planning to disarm him, you'll lose." She dropped her shirt, wound apparently dressed to the best of her abilities.

"His quirk is essentially a forcefield, it pushes away anything that approaches him. He uses it to propel matter at high speeds, like these bullets, but it also makes him virtually untouchable unless you catch him between uses. When he uses it at high density like that, he'll be left unguarded for a few seconds afterward." Tenko frowned as his eyes scanned the street, and when a figure stepped into view he had barely enough time to duck back behind the wall before several pellets blasted through the window mere centimetres from his head.

"Stand by the door. The next time he shoots, you'll only have a few seconds to derail him." Tenko took a deep breath, crawling along the ground to the doorway.

"I'm not trying to kill you, Midoriya. Let's not act stupid, in case you cause an accident that we'll both regret. Come out with your hands up." His voice was smug, and Tenko rolled his eyes. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his entire body itching with the knowledge that he had to take down his opponent in one hit, lest he lose his life to a stray pellet through the skull. It was an incredibly creative application of a repulsion quirk, one that Tenko might’ve been impressed with if he hadn't made it so intentionally lethal. The threat of death was an effective paralytic for sure, but not something to be applied so liberally. What if Tenko had failed to dodge, and that shrapnel really had pierced straight through his head moments ago? It boiled his blood, made his fingers twitch, flooded his heart with the lingering desire to jump forward, to take the object of his hatred by the head and destroy.

The sound of stone embedding itself into the wall snapped him out of his thoughts, and he rounded the corner on instinct with both arms outstretched. He shot both grappling hooks toward the retreating opponent, and while the claw on the left hand missed, the barbed spike on the right embedded itself into the man's shoulder and pulled . Tenko flew through the air toward his attacker, left hand reeling back to punch the man square in the jaw as they made contact, his opponent immediately slumping to the ground with Tenko straddling him. Tenko punched him again, and again, fists raining down until he was sure the attacker was completely still.

Operating entirely on adrenaline and instinct, Tenko grabbed the man's hands, locating the wristband on his left and switching it off before any more surprises could be thrown at him. His own wristband flashed a green light, signalling to him that he had passed.

"Please make your way out of the arena," a mechanical voice instructed, but Tenko simply flopped to his side on the ground, breathing heavily. He looked at his hands, the right still bleeding from the 'bullet wound', knuckles bruised and bleeding from the beating he'd delivered. He looked at the attacker's face and winced at the damage, the man sporting a split lip and a badly broken nose, to say nothing of the welt swelling on his jaw and grappling hook pike still impaled in his shoulder.

Was this really what it looked like, the aftermath of a villain fight? Did fully-licenced heroes feel as guilty as Tenko did as they looked down at their victims? Gingerly, Tenko leaned over the man, pulling his first-aid equipment out of his pocket to clean the cuts on his face and considering removing the hook blade from his shoulder. He decided against it though, recognising that the barbs meant it would do much more damage to pull it out without a professional present. He instead decided to pick the man up, throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry as he staggered toward the exit.

When he finally arrived he found that several of his classmates had already passed, Mori and Akiyama included. They both came to meet him, Mori clapping him on the back as Akiyama gingerly picked up the man he carried with her hair. "Nice, I knew you'd pass! Who's this?" Mori glanced at the man's face and winced. "Jeez, you did a number on him, huh? He annoying?" Tenko just shrugged, diligently following after Akiyama as she carried the man to first-aid, lest he accidentally pull on the grappling hook still embedded in his shoulder.

"He shot me in the hand," Tenko supplied instead of a real answer, and Mori nodded understandingly. They handed off the man to the healer on standby who healed Tenko's hands like it was nothing, wrenched the hook from the man's shoulder, and shooed the three away. Mori and Akiyama made polite conversation about the exam, while Tenko sat and silently stared down at his spotless knuckles. Mori seemed to think that his violence was justified, but was it really? Would he still think it was okay if he'd known the rage in Tenko's veins, how good it'd felt to feel bone crunch beneath his fists?

He thought back to what Thirteen had said. The system rewards the dehumanisation of villains, because committing violence against them is necessary. A matter of utility, sacrificing the one for the many, their guilt validating the denial of their humanity. When Endeavor kills a villain, it's barely mentioned in the articles. When his actions kill a civilian, the blame doesn't fall on his shoulders. Tenko's father had been guilty. If Tenko hadn't fought back, his father may have killed him. Did that mean he had deserved to die? Would it have been right, then, for a hero to see five year old Tenko destroy his family and choose to kill him?

At what age did a child go from victim to villain?

One by one the rest of his classmates arrived, Amano slinking into the room with a black eye toward the end of the group, and the exam concluded shortly after. Every single one of them passed, and Present Mic was practically glowing the entire bus trip back to Yuuei. The rest of the class was overjoyed and it only served to make Tenko feel more isolated, hands clasped tightly in his lap as he sat beside Amano. Eventually, he felt her nudge his arm gently.

"Hey, you okay?" She whispered, and he met her gaze. Amano was his closest friend, daughter of a popular hero yet born with an unheroic quirk, pushed to join the hero course but largely uninterested in being there. Surely, if there was anyone he could talk to…

"I… don't know if I can do this." Amano frowned, shifting away slightly so she could turn to face him in earnest. He watched her hands twitch as she deliberated, unsure whether she should reach out or pull away.

"What? Midoriya, you passed with flying colours. Of course you can do this," she soothed, and reached a delicate hand to rest gently on his shoulder. From anyone else it would feel distant, maybe patronising, but Tenko knew how she felt about contact. He saw how Amano flinched violently if someone touched her with unwashed hands, knew of the classes she missed when she was overwhelmed by the feeling of dirt on her skin. That gentle hand meant everything to her, and Tenko's heart swelled with the confidence to open up.

"No, I mean…" Tenko exhaled shakily, focusing on the way stray strands of her hair were trapped beneath the strap of her face mask so he didn’t have to meet her probing gaze.

"When I was a kid I did something really, really bad. Something life ruining. And ever since I've just been trying to get back to normal." Tenko sniffed, the bottled up intensity of everything he felt bringing tears to his eyes. It wasn't sadness that created the tears he wiped frustratedly from his face. He was overwhelmed, buckling under the weight of a decade of guilt and uncertainty.

"And sometimes I feel like I'm so close . But every time I do something like this, every time I have to hurt someone, I feel like I'm backsliding. I can't help but think of the villains that get beaten and killed and wonder if the same thing would've, or should've , happened to me." Amano opened her mouth indignantly, a protest quick on her tongue as it so often was, but she snapped it closed again as Tenko continued to speak.

"If this is how it feels to be a hero… I don't think I can do it." He met her eyes again at that, the confession weighing heavily on his soul. There he sat, having just snatched a provisional licence out from under some other student who would've done anything for it, and yet he didn't want it. He held in his hands a privilege other people would kill for, and he scorned it. Amano must be pissed. She should be pissed, but… Tenko looked into her eyes and saw only determination. That glint of steel in white irises that she got when confronting a particularly difficult training exercise, as she worked every corner of her brain to find a solution. For him .

"That's rough, man." She winced the second the words left her mouth, and Tenko couldn't help but smile at her bluntness. "I mean… I don't know if I can tell you whether villains deserve to get hurt or not. That feels like something you have to decide for yourself. But I also think if the choice was between you and some guy who didn't think twice about hurting people, I'd much rather you be a hero than them." Amano's gaze darted away, looking down the rows of bus seats filled with future heroes. Many of their classmates looked up to heroes like Endeavor, enamoured by the thrill of adrenaline-fueled violence. Many of them wouldn't think twice about skewering some two-bit thug. The guy Tenko took down during the exam certainly wouldn't. Momentarily, Tenko mourned the lack of ethics classes in the Yuuei curriculum.

"And anyway, backsliding doesn't mean you aren't still getting better overall. Healing isn't about every single day being better than the last, you know? It isn't gonna be perfectly linear. Sometimes I go several days without feeling sick, and sometimes I can't sleep because I used the bathroom and my hands still feel dirty no matter how many times I wash them. But I still know I'm coping better now than I did 5 years ago, and I'll probably do even better in another 5 years." She wrung her wrists passively, and the gesture struck Tenko as distinctly maternal despite the fact that Tenko was older than every one of his classmates.

"Just gotta have hope, you know? And the grit to see it through." She held up a fist in determination, and Tenko grinned through his tears as he mimicked the gesture. If they weren't surrounded by their classmates, he might’ve said Plus Ultra . A blush peeked over the rim of Amano's mask a little, her usually snarky personality unused to the completely-unironic show of genuinity and optimism, and she dropped her hand to her side.

"Maybe if you push through a little longer you can make a change. Convince the HPSC that heroes should lose their licences for killing or something, I dunno. Or maybe it'll just suck and you'll quit. But you'll probably never stop thinking about it if you don't try."

"Yeah. Okay." They sat in silence for a moment, Amano staring straight ahead to give him some semblance of privacy while Tenko sniffled and wiped at his face.

"Do you… want a hug?" She asked tentatively, and Tenko barked a laugh as she eyed his tear and snot-stained hands warily.

"I wouldn't subject you to that. Thank you, though." Instead he settled for wordlessly accepting tissues and a large helping of hand sanitiser instead, and for them that meant about the same thing.

= = =

Dabi's fingers stung a little more than usual, the only lingering consequence of char-broiling a group of thugs in an alley. Kurogiri would be disappointed, sure, but it was hardly Dabi's fault. They were the ones who tried to overthrow him, as though All for One's favour was something anybody else could just come along and take . He was supposed to be finding allies, digging roots of influence into the ranks of local gangs to make (disposable) connections. The Master had big plans, after all, and he needed cannon fodder to accomplish them. He'd essentially been sent out to play with the neighbour kids, as it were.

It wasn't his fault the neighbour kids had such massive egos. And were so very flammable.

Dabi was capable of so much more than this. Genetically engineered to lay waste to armies, the most powerful fire quirk the world had ever seen resting deep within his core. Yet he was reduced to messenger. Because of Tenko. If Dabi had access to better resources, if he had more trust, if he had the title of 'All for One's heir' that they instead saved for their beloved little prince, this would all be so much easier. Instead, Dabi worked. Because nothing could ever come easy, so he had to roast his way through handfuls of street rats trying to earn a level of respect that All for One could have just given him.

Dabi brushed lingering ash from his jacket as he stepped into the bar, keeping his head down to try and avoid Kurogiri for long enough to pass through the bar and shut himself away in his room.

"How did it go?" Ah. No rest for the wicked, it seemed.

"Bad, as usual. They tried to attack me so I killed them." Kurogiri sighed, placing down the latest in the string of glasses he seemed to be perpetually cleaning.

"Perhaps if you were a little more welcoming, our new recruits would attack you less often." Dabi clicked his tongue, teeth catching on the fresh piercing he'd put through it earlier that week.

"Tch. If they're this sh*t at attacking people they don't deserve to be new recruits anyway."

"You forget your mission, Dabi. They don't need to be skilled, they just need to be many . Bodies that can throw themselves between you and your enemy." Dabi raised an eyebrow, and one of Kurogiri's gaseous 'hands' patted the bar. Once Dabi took his seat, the man continued.

"Your Master did not amass his great influence through sheer power alone. His people joined him because they wanted to. If you want him to respect you, you must demonstrate the qualities of a leader. People must be willing to sacrifice everything for you, and for your ideals." Kurogiri gestured to the screen behind them that was usually reserved for their meetings with All for One, and dread shot down Dabi's spine at the idea of seeing that mangled face again. How a featureless blob was so good at expressing disdain and disappointment, Dabi couldn't say, but it ate away at him all the same. He did not want to face All for One with yet another failure under his belt. Dabi flinched when the screen flickered on, but rather than All for One's booming voice it instead played grainy footage of a sprawling arena. Something from the depths of Dabi's past flagged it as familiar: this was the site of the Provisional Licence Exam, a test his father had trained him for since the day his quirk manifested. The camera zoomed in, sweeping across crowds before focusing on one kid in particular.

The longer hair and girlish features gave him an androgynous look, though under further scrutiny Dabi recognised him as a somewhat underdeveloped teenage boy. His blue-grey hair was messy, wavy bangs framing his face with the majority of the hair pulled back into a short ponytail. The boy scanned the crowd carefully as though he knew he was being watched, and blood-red eyes surrounded by a cross-hatch of scars locked onto the camera and glared straight through Dabi with an intensity that gave him chills. The boy scratched absently at his neck, drawing attention to the four-fingered gloves on his hands, and pouted before looking away. All at once any sense of intrigue borne of those piercing eyes faded, and the boy was just another face among the crowd again. Dabi looked to Kurogiri for context, but the man only watched the footage with something akin to awe. This could only be one person.

"That's Tenko?" He had expected… more. A greater stature, perhaps. Someone who radiated power, or malice, or intelligence. This kid seemed perceptive, sure, but he was hardly worth the praise All for One gave him. Hardly worth more than Dabi.

The footage flickered, scene shifting to show Tenko leaning over an unconscious form and beating it into the ground. Blood flew between his fists and the victim's face, and Tenko's expression was one of rage, desperation, blood-lust . When the haze cleared he fell to the ground, staring wistfully at his hands and then at the man he'd just brutalised.

"He's got no idea what he's doing," Dabi scoffed, turning away from the camera. What, did All for One wish Dabi were less efficient? Would he appreciate his kills more if they were actioned with his fists, instead of a quirk that left no trace?

"He is still developing. Coming to terms with his moral code and his urge to destroy, figuring out what he desires. He will realise his ideals, eventually, and they will bring him here to us." Kurogiri spoke with such reverence about the boy, speaking of his destiny as if he were the prodigal f*cking son. Dabi slammed his hands on the bar as he stood, turning to stomp out of the room with Kurogiri's warning echoing up the halls behind him.

"If you don't want to be replaced, you must figure out your own ideals first."

Chapter 15: Still as your friend

Chapter Text

Tenko gave the civilian a comforting smile as he helped her sit in the back of an ambulance, paramedics pushing a warm drink into her hands as they checked her blood pressure and pupil dilation. She was probably 12 or 13, if the middle school uniform was any indication, and she gripped Tenko’s hand like a lifeline as the paramedics finished their examination.

“Were your parents here with you?” Tenko asked gently, and the girl shook her head.

“No, I was walking home by myself. I’ll… call them.” Tenko nodded, gently pulling his hand from her grasp to return to the damage site. A villain attack had destabilised the foundations of an office building, a stray blast from the hero that was fighting them causing it to collapse into the street. The building itself had thankfully been cleared, but there had been both drivers and pedestrians in the crash site when tons of concrete, metal, and broken glass fell on top of them. Tenko had yet to personally find a corpse beneath the rubble but body bags still lay lonely in the street, lacklustre resting places for people who couldn’t be saved, pulled from the wreckage by unlucky interns. Tenko continued to dig through the rocky remains until Thirteen cleared their throat through a megaphone, encouraging all cleared civilians to leave the site so they could begin cleanup. They gestured for Tenko to follow, then, and began slowly making their way through the wreckage.

“Keep an eye out for movement, yeah?” Tenko nodded, scanning the newly exposed layers of rubble closely as Thirteen sucked away debris with their quirk. Typically this was a one man job, something they'd both be doing from opposite ends of the pileup, so Tenko kept his senses sharp as he waited for the other shoe to drop. A test, perhaps. Or maybe he was being fired.

“How are you feeling, kid?” They started, then held out a hand to stop him before he had the chance to respond.

“I guess I can’t call you that anymore, huh? You’re 18 now.” Thirteen spoke with all the importance and sincerity of a person trying to make up a presentation on the fly, an undercurrent of something lacing their words and betraying their otherwise serious demeanour. They ruffled his hair, and Tenko huffed as he pushed it back out of his face to keep his eyes on the wreckage ahead.

"You shouldn't call me that anyway, you know. We're colleagues," Tenko chided, and Thirteen hummed knowingly. Sometimes Tenko hated that mask they wore, it made them impossible to read.

"I don't know about that, intern," they started, free hand digging into their pocket and producing a yellow envelope printed with the USJ logo, his name in neat calligraphy across the back. "Maybe next year though, if you're interested." Tenko took the envelope, flipping it in his hand a couple times before their implication finally sunk in. A job offer, from Thirteen's agency. Tenko immediately stuffed the letter into his most secure pocket.

Thirteen’s quirk shifted a rather large chunk of concrete, revealing a flash of metallic blue before a voice cried out. As abruptly as it had started, the conversation was over.

“Please, help!” Thirteen immediately shut off their quirk and nodded for Tenko to approach. He moved toward the chunk of concrete, carefully avoiding stepping anywhere that could cause the rubble to shift further.

“Alright. Stay calm, I’m gonna get you out,” he said firmly, leaving no room for doubt in himself or the civilian as he focused solely on safely extracting the person below.

= = =

In hero society, most of middle school was just talking about highschool. Most hero courses didn’t accept students until then, after all, and who didn’t want to be a hero? As such there was no better source of gossip than finding out which students wanted to go where. Even now, just barely into the beginning of their second year, Izuku’s classmates had already discovered their favourite topic of conversation.

Well, their second favourite. Everyone’s favourite topic was always which hero course they themselves wanted to try out for. Their second favourite earned that place by being objectively much more interesting: Both Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki wanted to go to Yuuei. Oh, the intrigue! The drama! Izuku scratched bitterly at his desk.

To Izuku it had always been a given: he wanted to be a hero, and what better school was there than Yuuei? The soon-to-be-Alma-mater of not one, but two of his favourite heroes; All Might, of course, and Tenko. He imagined Katsuki thought about the same, even if he was too cool to admit to being an All Might fanboy anymore.

Katsuki seemed too cool for just about everything, nowadays. He leant back in his chair during break and barely touched his food, too busy talking about his future career to his group of adoring fans. Izuku didn't touch his food for an entirely different reason: Katsuki's friends were hanging around again, just waiting for him to open his bento so they could dump it all over the floor. Or the desk. Or his head. He'd just eat it on the train home, where Tenko would be around to scare away anyone who wanted to mess with him.

There he was, relying on his brother again. It upset Izuku to no end, not necessarily that he found his brother overbearing, but that he knew he needed it. And despite all Tenko's assurances that Izuku could be a hero even though he was quirkless, his brother thought he needed it too. When even the people that liked him thought he was weak, he could hardly blame his bullies for thinking the same.

The gaggle of students around Katsuki quieted down for a moment, parting just long enough for Izuku to make eye contact with his friend across the room. Katsuki immediately scoffed and looked away, raising his voice to recapture the attention of his followers. Izuku was a bigger fan of Katsuki than anyone, but he wasn't welcome at his table. His presence seemed to piss Katsuki off unlike anything else, so he was content to listen from the other end of the room. Katsuki's stories sort of lost their lustre after the first ten retellings, anyway. Izuku's phone buzzed, and he was grateful for the excuse to turn away.

Tenko-nii

> guess what

Izuku

> What?

Tenko-nii

> are u on break?

> dont text in class

Izuku

> Yeah I am. Tell me what happened??

Tenko-nii

> thirteen just offered to let me join their agency when i graduate

Izuku smacked his knees on the underside of his desk with how hard he jolted, barely containing his shock and excitement. Izuku knew how worried Tenko had been about agency offers, and while Izuku had never doubted that he'd be just as successful as a solo hero, he knew how important the offer was to him.

Izuku

> Wow! Congratulations, Niichan!! ^○^

Tenko-nii

> thanks izuku B^)

> but it also means i need to handle the paperwork straight away

> so i cant pick u up from school today :^(

Belatedly Izuku noticed that the room around him had fallen silent, all eyes drifting in his direction after his excited outburst. Izuku held his phone to his chest, laughing awkwardly and tucking his feet under his chair.

"What's so exciting, Deku? Finally made a friend?" Katsuki spoke, standing from his chair with that devilish grin that meant he was looking to pick a fight. It had been a while, and Izuku sighed and put his phone away. He's almost been foolish enough to think he and Katsuki had moved past this violent phase of their relationship.

Katsuki stood in front of his desk, smile sharp and hands buried in his pockets as the class gathered around. Izuku glanced past his shoulder, catching the teacher's eye for a moment before she turned away in her chair.

"It's nothing, Kacchan, just my brother." Katsuki always flinched when Izuku referred to him with that nickname, the action just about imperceptible to everyone except Izuku. It made his guts stir, something like sadness giving way to something like anger every time Katsuki looked burned by the idea that they were friends. Are friends.

"Oh? He finally get kicked out of Yuuei?"

" No, he actually just got accepted to an agency. Because unlike you, he's actually a hero." Katsuki scowled, planting his foot on the edge of Izuku's desk and shoving it forward into his ribs. Izuku wheezed and shuffled his chair back, and his classmates laughed when Katsuki kicked the desk into him again.

"Huh. Your mom must be happy, at least she got one son that isn't a total weakling. Shame she had to pick him off the street, whoever gave him his hero genes couldn’t do the same for you." Izuku shoved the desk away, almost knocking Katsuki off balance as he jumped to his feet.

"You know what, Kacchan? Fight me." The second the words left his mouth Izuku was overcome with regret, trying not to let his anxiety show on his face as Katsuki stood over him. Even standing at his full height Katsuki was still taller, and Izuku worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"What. Did you say?"

"I said fight me. After school." Katsuki scoffed, beginning to turn away, and Izuku's entire face was flushed red as he grabbed his friend's sleeve. "No quirks. That way it's fair."

"Why would I do that?" Katsuki looked back over his shoulder, scowling at Izuku's hold on his sleeve as though he were diseased. It was clear he took the challenge seriously, though, now that Izuku had added the 'no quirk' rule. Izuku stood no chance against Katsuki with full power, but hand-to-hand? That was almost reasonable.

"Heroes need to be good at hand-to-hand combat as well. Unless you're scared I'll beat you without your little crutch?" He knew he was channelling Katsuki's own attitude back at him, but it was working. Red eyes narrowed, grabbing his wrist to pull him off and shoving him back into his chair. Izuku's jacket smouldered where Katsuki had touched it.

"Fine. Hope your hero brother knows first-aid, Deku. You're gonna need it." Katsuki retreated to his desk, the entire class gathering around him and whispering until Katsuki snapped and sent them scattering back to their own little groups. Izuku didn't correct him on the fact that, actually, Tenko would be nowhere near close enough to perform first-aid on anybody.

Katsuki's actual friends stayed near him and whispered, giving Izuku a blissful few minutes of peace to scoff down his lunch before the bell rang for their final class of the day. It was quirk history, which was almost interesting enough to distract Izuku from the fact that he only had an hour left to live.

God, he was gonna die. He was gonna die and Tenko would have to abandon his agency enrolment paperwork to come identify his brother's corpse. Looking around the classroom, he actually saw genuine sympathy on the faces of his classmates. They all thought Katsuki would beat him, and beat him even harder than usual.

No. He wasn't gonna freak out. He'd been copying self defence classes through a window with Tenko for as long as he could remember. Tenko was a couple semesters away from being a fully licensed hero, and Izuku could still occasionally get away with a successful grapple on him. If he took a couple cheap shots, the odd kick to the liver or jaw, he could win. He could win . He was just betting on the fact that Katsuki, for all the quirk and strength training he did, hadn't gotten much practice fighting unassisted.

The final bell rang much too quickly, and Izuku immediately stood and walked out of class. He knew if he stopped he would lose his nerve, so he blew through the halls, changed his shoes, and stepped out into the courtyard. The concrete courtyard, where his brother would not be showing up to bail him out.

Izuku could not have picked a worse time or place. He barely had a chance to worry though as Katsuki blew the doors open behind him, their entire class hot on his trail and practically vibrating with excitement. Clearly they weren't feeling that sympathetic to Izuku's plight, they were just as excited to see him pummelled as Katsuki was to do it. “We don't have to do this, Kacchan.”

“What, you chickening out Deku?” Katsuki crossed his arms, his groupies billowing out into the courtyard behind him and trapping the two of them against the front of the building. Several teachers looked their way, noticed Katsuki in the centre, and turned a blind eye.

“Why would I? I'm gonna win.” Katsuki scoffed and one of his friends stepped forward, clearly power-drunk as he held up a hand like some kind of referee.

“Three!” Izuku stepped back just as Katsuki stepped forward, the two of them locked in place only two metres apart.

“Two!” Katsuki sunk into a naturally open-palmed fighting stance, frowning a little before he corrected himself and closed his hands into fists. His arms were still far too wide and too far forward, leaving his head and body almost entirely unguarded. Katsuki's technique was designed to evade hits with his quirk, not take them with a block. Izuku put up his guard and closed his eyes.

“One!” The kid dragged out the syllable just as Izuku dragged out his breath, willing himself to remain calm. Willing himself to look into those red eyes and see Tenko, not Katsuki. See a friend, not a threat. He opened his eyes to see that Katsuki had corrected his guard to mirror Izuku's own, but it didn't hide his inexperience. Izuku's right leg twitched.

“Fight!” Katsuki lunged and his punch swung far too wide, telegraphing the movement for entire seconds before it could have landed. Izuku blocked it easily, the impact glancing off of his left forearm and leaving Katsuki open for a counter. Izuku's untidy jab was in contrast devastatingly efficient, fist slamming forward into Katsuki's jaw and forcing him to stumble back. Izuku shifted back and down onto his right foot, conserving momentum to shift forward and deliver two swift kicks: first to Katsuki's knee, and then bending his leg and lifting it higher to snap another kick against the side of his head. Izuku's sneaker connected with Katsuki's temple with the sick slap of plastic on flesh, and he saw Katsuki's eyelids flutter as if in slow motion.

Izuku felt a little guilty as he took some steps back, giving Katsuki precious time to reorient himself, as well as the privilege of initiating the next attack. Katsuki wiped his face with a fist and fixed those calculating eyes on Izuku, at which point he recognised his biggest mistake. More than a fighter, more than a bully, more than a hero-in-training, Katsuki was smart. Katsuki learned and adapted faster than anyone Izuku had ever known, and for every second that he hadn't flattened his best friend out on the concrete he was losing his advantage. Katsuki looked about ready to move, but Izuku stepped first.

He cut his right foot under, shifting his balance to push his left foot between Katsuki's too-wide guard and straight between his ribs. Katsuki wheezed and Izuku continued his assault, shifting behind him and grabbing him in a headlock, jabbing his knees forward to buckle Katsuki's and bringing them both to the floor. He pushed Katsuki forward into the concrete, jabbing his knee into his lower back as he leant over him, his own bodyweight pushing him deeper into the headlock. An experienced fighter (like Tenko) would find a way out, and the poor excuse for a grapple definitely wouldn't fly in an actual class, but Katsuki was not experienced, and Izuku was incredibly anxious to get the fight over with.

When Katsuki pushed himself up on one arm and raised the other, Izuku was expecting him to tap. As Katsuki turned his head and made foggy, rage-filled eye contact, Izuku realised he was wrong far too late.

Pain exploded in his right side as he was thrown off of Katsuki's back, and Izuku barely had the time to tuck his head before he skidded across the concrete and slammed into the external wall of the school. His ears were ringing from the explosion, and his uniform was definitely singed open, warmth from the burn and the blood seeping into him from his side and oozing over his hip. Izuku shifted in an attempt to get to his feet, but his hip and side screamed at the pain so he settled for leaning back against the wall. He reached delicately for the area below the wound, swiping his fingertips gingerly upward until they were slick with blood. A flesh wound, surely.

Finally, he tuned himself back in to his surroundings. Yelling, murmurs of disapproval, directed for once against someone other than himself. When Izuku looked up, Katsuki stood alone in a circle of people, one hand pressed against his temple as the other hung loosely by his side. His right hand, still smoking. Katsuki looked around at the crowd, their whispers and glares of distaste, and then his gaze settled on Izuku. Poor, maimed Izuku, leaning against the wall and gasping for air like there were holes in his lungs. He took one shuddering step, another, leaning forward over Izuku with his eyes fixed on his wound.

“Are you–” he reached a hand out toward him. Right hand, still smoking, and Izuku flinched. Katsuki froze mid-sentence, pulling his hand away like he was the one burned by it, eyebrows pinched for a moment before he scowled. Katsuki shoved his way through the crowd toward his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and disappeared into the school. The crowd began to disperse as Izuku shifted again, his wound tacky with blood but no longer actively gushing as he shifted onto his knees. Izuku managed to barely get his feet underneath him when the school nurse stepped out of the building, scanning the yard before seeing him and sighing. She helped Izuku to his feet, muttering her way through scolding him for fighting as she kept his weight off of his right leg and helped him hobble his way toward the office.

“We'll have to contact your guardian to pick you up, we can't let you walk home on that leg. Would your mother usually be free at this time of day?”

“My brother usually picks me up,” Izuku wheezed, and the nurse frowned.

“Can your brother drive?” Izuku ducked his head as he tried to calculate a way to convey as much info using as few words as possible, and the woman shouldered open the office door, guiding him to sit on the end of a little nurse's cot.

“Yeah, but we only have the one car that Mom takes to work.”

“Right. Well, I will have somebody call your mother so that she can organise transportation for you.” The woman pulled on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, briefly inspecting his wound again. “Of course, we will call Bakugou's mother and inform her of the situation as well. Please remove your jacket and shirt.” Izuku peeled off his clothing, wincing as the fabric pulled where it was stuck to his wound. The nurse tutted, pressing gently on the area around the burn before moving to hold his right leg. Slowly, she pushed it up toward him, and Izuku hissed as his hip joint ached.

A few tests later she delivered her verdict: a first degree burn she could heal with her quirk, a sprained hip he would have to heal naturally, and a minor concussion that meant he'd need to stay at the school a couple more hours for observation. The nurse pressed her hand to his wound, apologising gently when he winced before closing her eyes to focus the power of her quirk through his bare torso. The pain immediately dimmed, as did the thick fog in his head, and Izuku sighed with relief as she pulled her hand away. She draped a lost-and-found uniform jacket over his shoulders, and then ducked down to catch his lowered gaze.

“If you're feeling alright, the principal requested that I send you to his office. Bakugou is already there.” Izuku's eyebrows shot up, and he shifted forward to slide off of the cot.

“Kacchan's here?” The nurse furrowed her brow at the nickname, but nodded as she moved to the other side of the room to dispose of her gloves.

“Yes, he was the one who came and told me about your condition. He's probably been in with the principal for 15 minutes or so by now.” Izuku barely registered the second sentence, already on his way to the principal's office. He couldn't help smiling, in spite of his condition. Katsuki had gotten the nurse. For him. Izuku knocked on the principal's door, prying the door open when he received no response.

It was only after he entered the room and felt Katsuki's eyes on him that he fully took notice of the state he was in: shirtless with a middle school jacket hung over his shoulders, a hand-sized patch of flesh on his side still pink-raw, somewhat concave, and taught, creasing unnaturally when he moved. Fresh scar tissue. Izuku smiled nervously as he tucked his arms into the sleeves of the too-big jacket, wrapping it around himself and heavily favouring his left leg as he limped toward the empty chair before the principal’s desk. He looked at Katsuki at his side, but the blond did not make eye contact.

“Kacchan, I–”

“Shut it, Deku.” Izuku snapped his mouth shut, wringing his wrists in his lap as he stared straight ahead. The principal's wall was lined with degrees and awards, a clearly well-accomplished man who was nowhere to be seen.

“...Where's the principal?” Katsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slouched further into his seat. Pointedly avoiding Izuku's eyes, even though Izuku was fully twisted in his chair to face him.

“Calling the old hag. Your mom too, probably.” Izuku bit his lip at the mention of his mother, he could only imagine how upset she would be. It reminded him very suddenly of the fact that he had an older brother, a very strong, protective, and responsible older brother who was about to find out that Izuku got severely burned on the one day that Tenko wasn't there to look after him.

“Oh, Tenko-nii is gonna be so upset with me,” Izuku groaned as he pressed his face into his hands, sinking into his chair until his posture was almost as bad as Katsuki's. He turned his head to look at Katsuki, and the blond was almost smiling. Almost.

“Tch, upset? He'll probably kill me,” Katsuki finally met his eyes, and Izuku grinned.

“Oh yeah. You're a goner,” Izuku teased, and Katsuki finally cracked a smile as he sat back up in his chair. Izuku followed suit almost unconsciously, and as Katsuki opened his mouth to respond the door slammed open.

“Please take a seat,” a gruff voice said from the doorway, and in walked Izuku's mother and Katsuki's father. Izuku watched some of the tension leave Katsuki's frame, and remembered for a moment just how dazed he had been. Did Katsuki get a chance to see the nurse for himself? Izuku was hardly strong like his brother, but a kick to the temple from anyone wearing shoes as bulky as Izuku's would rattle a person.

“Izuku, are you okay?”

“Yes, mom. The nurse healed me. I have to stick around for observation, though.” Inko petted his hair compulsively, fussing over him until she caught sight of a sliver of the burn mark from beneath his jacket. She immediately swept it to the side, both her and Masaru gasping at the sight and rounding on Katsuki.

“Bakugou Katsuki!” Inko was indignant, and Katsuki flinched at the tone of her voice.

“I know. I'm sorry, Midoriya-san.” Inko spluttered, dropping into her seat with a huff. Maseru seemed equally shocked as he sat down, practically blanching at the lack of argument from his son.

“Wh–don’t apologise to me! Izuku is the one you burned!” Izuku grabbed her arm and pulled her to face him.

“Mom, it's my fault. I challenged him to a fight, probably gave him a concussion. It was instinct.”

“Tch. You did not give me a concussion, 'm fine.”

“Oh yeah? Go see the nurse, then. You're basically swaying in your seat.” Katsuki promptly gripped the armrests of his chair, making a conscious effort to still himself even as his eyes remained out of focus. Masaru leant forward to catch his gaze, studying his face for a moment and clicking his tongue.

“Izuku's right, Katsuki. You're going straight to the nurse after this.” Katsuki huffed, sinking back into his chair. Izuku was almost glad his friend was concussed: it clearly made him less argumentative.

“Back to the matter at hand. Based on the school's zero-tolerance policy on violence, suspension is the only reasonable outcome.” Katsuki sat up, and the principal held up a finger to silence him. “However. Given that the altercation technically occurred outside of school hours, if all parties agree to keep the incident private, we can keep said suspension off the record. For both parties.” Izuku and Katsuki sighed in relief, the both of them caring about nothing other than their ability to get into Yuuei. Izuku got a pointed look from his mother for that, and shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Given that Katsuki's actions were taken in self-defense, he will receive a shorter suspension,” the principal continued, but Katsuki waved a hand.

“Nah. I started the fight by picking on him, and I agreed to the challenge. We should get the same punishment.” Izuku sat up to object, but Inko's harsh grip on his leg kept him quiet. When Masaru sighed and agreed, the principal nodded.

“Very well. Two weeks off-record suspension. Neither of you will receive any leniency on your assessments, so be sure to stay caught up on your school work. You may go.” The four of them bowed deeply (or as deeply as they could with their injuries, in Izuku's case) and filed out of the room, Masaru immediately shepherding Katsuki away to the nurses office while Inko gripped Izuku's shoulders in the hallway.

“Starting fights, Izuku? What has gotten into you?”

“I don't know, Mom. I wanted to stand up for myself, for once. To prove that I'm not some weakling that needs Tenko-nii to protect me.” Izuku scuffed his shoes on the floor and hugged his jacket tightly around himself. “Guess I failed, though.”

“Izuku…” Inko's eyes welled up, bottom lip wobbling as she petted his hair. All his bitterness faded immediately and he stepped into her embrace willingly. “You're grounded,” she said softly, and Izuku sighed.

“I know.”

“Forever.”

“ Mom.” The two of them separated, and Inko followed him back to the nurse's office where Katsuki was posted up on a second too-small nurse's cot, looking incredibly frustrated. Izuku couldn't help but find the sight a little funny, big tough Kacchan lying with one arm and both feet hanging off the ends of his little bed. Katsuki turned to look at them as they entered and immediately jolted upright, earning a grumble from his father as he pressed a palm to his forehead.

“Stop moving, Katsuki. You'll make it worse.” Katsuki groaned in lieu of a response, resting his head delicately against the wall as Izuku sat down on the cot opposite him. Inko's phone buzzed, and she scanned the screen for a moment before making her way toward the door.

“Tenko will be here in an hour to pick you up. He knows everything, so don't try to lie to your brother, okay?” Izuku winced, but he knew there was no changing her mind. At the very least he had an hour to prepare.

“Inko-san, I don't suppose Tenko would be able to drop Katsuki home as well? I hate to bother you, but I really have to get back to work,” Masaru said slyly, and Katsuki stiffened where he was leaning against the wall. Inko smiled graciously, making conspiratorial eye-contact with Masaru as the both of them moved to leave.

“Of course, Masaru-san. I'm sure he won't mind at all.” With that they were gone before either boy could object, leaving the two of them alone with their thoughts. The school was hardly quiet, classes had only just finished and club activities would continue until 5pm, and Izuku swung his feet in time with some out-of-tune music playing from the band room down the hall.

“Any last words?” Izuku joked, and Katsuki grimaced as he shifted to face him. His eyes were certainly clearer, and Izuku noted guiltily that he had a long bruise across his neck from where Izuku had choked him out, as well as two more swelling on his jaw and temple. At least Izuku hadn't taken any damage to the face.

“I dunno. Give me a few minutes to think about it.” The pair of them sat quietly, both nursing their own throbbing headaches. The lights were dimmed, and after a few minutes the nurse returned to offer them each some generic-brand paracetamol and a cool damp cloth to put on their foreheads. Katsuki attempted to reject the offer, but when Izuku graciously accepted and lay down, Katsuki finally gave in as well. It would have probably been peaceful, if Izuku hadn't been far too concerned with what his brother would say, and more importantly, how he was going to stop him from giving Katsuki further brain damage when he arrived.

Twenty minutes later the nurse instructed them to remove the cloths, and only then did Katsuki stir and begin to speak.

“Deku,” he prompted, and Izuku hummed to show he was still awake. A beat of silence followed, and Izuku turned his head to peer through the dark at Katsuki's cot. “I wasn't thinking straight. I'll get stronger and it won't happen again.” Izuku only hummed again, turning away in his cot.

“Don't apply to Yuuei. Just because you beat me at this doesn't make you strong.”

“I will be strong though. And I'll become the number one hero.” Katsuki scoffed, and Izuku heard his cot creak as he rolled over.

“Stop tryna compete with me. sh*tty Deku.” Izuku blanched as he tried to find a response, but was interrupted by a soft but insistent knocking at the door. The nurse returned from the back room to open it, and Izuku looked up just in time to meet his brother’s eyes over her shoulder.

“Izuku.” All the air in Tenko’s lungs left in a rush with his name, Izuku moving to push himself into a sitting position before a partially-gloved hand applied gentle pressure to his shoulder, holding him down. “Don’t sit up, idiot. Izuku, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could win, Tenko-nii. And I did!” Tenko’s brows furrowed, eyes still flitting over him as he assessed his injuries.

“Mom told you not to lie to me, didn’t she?”

“He did.” Tenko whirled around as though realising Katsuku was there for the first time. Katsuki had pushed himself to sit in the cot, and Izuku watched him flinch as Tenko stepped towards him. The tension in Tenko’s shoulders evaporated, and he sighed as he dragged a hand down his face.

“Relax, brat. Unlike you, I don’t hit people who are weaker than me.”

“I’m not weaker than him!” Izuku objected, but his mind was still too hazy to communicate further. How was he supposed to tell Tenko how he felt? That just because he was quirkless didn’t mean he couldn’t fight. That their training together had paid off, and Izuku could be a hero too. That the look of pity in Tenko’s eyes as he smiled and nodded along to Izuku’s dreams made him sick to his stomach.

“Izuku…” Tenko started, and Izuku shook his head.

“Can we just go?” The nurse nodded her assent, and the three of them silently left school grounds and piled into the car. The drive home was so tense Izuku could hardly breathe, and when they pulled up outside of Katsuki’s house both him and Tenko opened their doors.

“I’ll walk him over. Stay here, Izuku.” Izuku didn’t object, leaning his head against the window so he could watch the pair of them walk up to Katsuki’s front door. Watching them from behind there was no indication that they were speaking, but Tenko’s hands were clenched the way they always were when he became consciously aware of his quirk. By the time they reached the door Katsuki’s hands had sunk deep into his pockets, and while Mitsuki had opened the door with her arm raised, she quickly dropped it upon seeing Tenko standing there too. Mitsuki yanked Katsuki through the door, and Tenko returned to the car in deep contemplation that Izuku didn’t dare interrupt.

They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

= = =

The second round of the Sports Festival had been a complete disaster for the hero track students. The task had involved manoeuvring their way through an obstacle course patrolled by robots and eliminating a target at the end. It required agility, sure, but also specifically focused on the ability to quickly eliminate or avoid single targets. Hero course students with otherwise powerful strength-boosting or AoE quirks were at a disadvantage, and several of their heaviest hitters had used too much power or simply been too loud taking out a guard bot, revealing their location and getting overwhelmed by the ensuing swarm. Tenko remembered seeing the ice-quirk girl that had beat him the previous year go down, among several others.

As Tenko gazed up at the tournament brackets for their final round, he felt uncharacteristically confident. Aside from potentially fighting Akiyama in his second round, almost all of the heavy-hitters that Tenko struggled against were on the other side of the bracket, meaning even if he made it all the way to the final two he would still only need to fight one of them.

His first opponent was from class B, a boy who embodied the Road Runner in all aspects except intelligence. He was incredibly fast, but also flighty, and tended to use his speed to run away from threats more often than he ran towards them. Tenko could practically picture the kid sh*tting his pants at the prospect of going against his murderous hands. He honestly wouldn't be surprised to hear that he forfeited. Many of the hero course's students had the ability to kill with their hands, but none did so as quickly or directly as Tenko.

For most heroes, a death would come alongside a powerful roar, a blinding flash of light or never-before-seen powerup. Ice girl could simply stab someone through the heart and call it a day, but it would never really happen like that. Heroes who kill people do so through such incredible feats of strength that bystanders forget there was ever an opponent in the first place. It was always surreal, it disconnected the hero from the reality of the brutal murder they just committed. Villains killed people by shooting fire through the streets. Endeavor's use of his flames was far more transformative.

In contrast, Tenko's hands could only kill quickly. Silently. He needed no special move or power up, he barely broke a sweat. He couldn't make it beautiful and dramatic if he tried. Tenko's brand of silent, instant death was far more terrifying. He'd probably forfeit too, a misplaced hand would kill long before Recovery Girl could make it to the scene.

Of course, Tenko hadn't misplaced a hand in over a decade. Complete control over and awareness of his fingertips was second nature to him, had to be by this late in the game. He was a paragon of quirk control, regardless of whether people believed it.

Tenko's fight was the first match of the tournament, and when he stood on the concrete slab alone while Aizawa announced his victory he pretended it was surprising. To many of the heroes in the stands, a forfeited match was a complete letdown. To those who worked with heroes like Tenko, though, it demonstrated immense efficiency. The entire point of his quirk was the threat of it, Tenko's presence alone needed to be enough to stop a villain in their tracks, kill their higher reasoning and reduce them to fight, flight, or freeze. For Tenko to be so threatening that even his fellow students were scared to fight him spoke volumes. He stepped out of the arena already ranked in the top 8 in the school, and returned to his seat in the bleachers.

Akiyama breezed confidently through her first fight, and Tenko watched the entire encounter intensely. The way she favoured the tentacles on the left side of her head, the way it was always the ones in the back that she used to move herself around, and the ones in the front that she used to block attacks. He also recalled a conversation he'd had with Akiyama all the way back in their first year, the very first time they'd had to team up for hero training.

“My quirk… it is easiest to think of them as tools, rather than limbs. I can control their movement, but they do not feel sensation. I rely on my sight and muscle-memory to control them effectively.”

Of course, Akiyama would remember that conversation too. She would also, by virtue not only of them being classmates but also of their friendship, have complete up-to-date knowledge of his quirk. Tenko was only thankful that there weren't many tricks to it. As awful as it would probably feel to him, Akiyama's hair was just that: dead cells growing from her head, no matter the shape they took. He could destroy it without worrying that it caused her pain or risked her life. Once her hair was gone she would be unarmed and easy for Tenko to defeat, the only issue was getting that far against tentacles almost as thick as Tenko's arms that could lift nearly 2 tons between them.

And doing so with the mental fortitude to stop his quirk spreading from the tentacles to the decidedly less-senseless flesh of Akiyama's head.

Tenko watched with rapt attention as Akiyama traded blows with her opponent, attempting to calculate the speed and acceleration of the red-brown limbs. It seemed her description of them as “tools” was accurate: they were whip-like, all movement originating from where they were attached to her scalp, and as such there was significant delay between when she began to move and when the ends of the arms reached their target. Akiyama's true strength, Tenko realised, was her ability to predict her opponent's movements and negate that delay.

Akiyama effortlessly swept her opponent from the ring, and Present Mic declared her victory over the loudspeaker with barely-concealed favouritism.

The rest of the first round of fights flew by as Tenko sat quietly, trying his best to get a handle on his nerves. Winning this fight would mean being in the top 4. It would mean standing on the podium, in front of hundreds of heroes and agents. It would mean proving himself.

Finally, it was time for his second fight. Tenko and Akiyama stood on opposite sides of the arena, and when the horn blew to signal the start of their match Akiyama lashed out immediately. The tentacle flicked out towards him, but rather than grab hold the barbed end instead lashed a deep cut across his chest. Tenko’s mind raced.

…'Whip-like.' That would be a problem. If Akiyama chose to lash out at him rather than reach for him, she could deal significant damage while also making it difficult for Tenko to grab hold of her tentacles in return. It wasn't a behaviour she exhibited often, and thus Tenko was largely at a loss for how to counter it. His grappling hooks made him manoeuvrable, but trying to use them in the limited space of the ring would be more trouble than it was worth.

She lashed out again, and Tenko kept keen eyes focused on where her tentacles originated on her head, watching movement roll like a wave along the length of it and dodging out of the way just in time to avoid a second cut.

He needed to get in close. While the ends of her tentacles were barbed, the majority used only suction cups like a standard octopus, and would do less damage. It would be far more difficult for her to reach him with those sharp ends if he was close to the tentacle’s point of origin.

Tenko dashed forward, dive-rolling out of the way of two tentacles as he ran. As he approached the halfway point Akiyama swept one of the limbs across the arena like she’d done to her previous opponent, and Tenko took the opportunity to finally grab hold of the limb. Time seemed to slow as he watched his quirk race toward her, instinctively flinching back even as the limb he pulled away from ceased to exist. Using his quirk was always accompanied by a rush of adrenaline, a heavy boot stamping out the embers of that itch that plagued his mind. It had to be some sort of psychological system: a release of dopamine to reward quirk use in the same way the brain rewarded social behaviour and sleep, because Tenko couldn’t fathom a world in which the use of his quirk could consciously bring him joy.

So what, then, was this feeling of release that accompanied the visual of Akiyama’s flesh distending and falling away, leaving only the barest smears of grit and blood on the concrete floor. What inherent psychological system would reward such grotesque violence with such unbridled joy?

Tenko cut off his quirk a little early, leaving a writhing, bloody stump no longer than ten centimetres where the tentacle used to be. Akiyama seemed unphased by the way blood dripped down her face, pausing briefly to wipe it away from her eye before continuing her onslaught. Tenko bit down hard on his lip as he shot forward, the pain and metallic tang of blood distracting him from his baser feelings as he skimmed soft fingertips against the rough skin of her tentacles. One of the arms flung forward and wrapped itself desperately around his head, blocking his vision barely long enough for two more to loop over his shoulders from behind and slam him onto his back.

Of course, he thought as the tentacle over his eyes pulled away. What chance did two arms have against ten? As Tenko contorted to try and grab hold of his binds, all he could think about was the way Izuku had limped home after his fight with Katsuki, hand pressed gingerly over the twenty centimetre stretch of scar tissue over his hip. How is it that kids like Katsuki became heroes? How is it that his little brother comes home from school in more pain than any one of Tenko’s opponents? In the back of his mind, Tenko could feel the itch of his quirk working, still eating its way up Akiyama’s other tentacles toward her scalp. Yet she still approached him slowly, confident in the knowledge that Tenko could never allow his quirk to hurt her.

Why do other people leave permanent scars on his loved ones, while Tenko gets dirty looks over damaged clothing? His father beating him was an open secret, but the man’s death was a tragedy?

Tenko thrashed against his binds, hot tears springing to his eyes as Akiyama began to raise him into the air. Unable to reach the limbs holding him, his hands dig into the fabric of his Yuuei sweatshirt, four fingers clenched as he kicked at the tentacles.

The key difference was death, wasn’t it? Tenko imposed all of those restrictions on himself because he feared causing death. Now that he had control, now that he could stop it, would it really be so bad? He was a hero now, wasn’t he?

‘Killing villains might not feel right, but sometimes it’s necessary,' Thirteen had said to him the first time they met. All Might left villains permanently disfigured, Endeavor had a kill count Tenko would need extra hands to list. Maybe Tenko was the weird one, placing these restrictions on himself. The remnants of Tenko’s quirk ate Akiyama’s tentacles down to the scalp, and she flinched when it didn’t stop.

Maybe he was the only one who cared.

“Midoriya-san,” Akiyama rasped, and the arms holding him up spasmed and slipped off of him as his quirk spread between the bases of the limbs. “ Midoriya,” she said more urgently, and when she raised her hands to touch the decaying masses, her fingertips came away already beginning to crack.

Tenko landed on his feet and darted toward her, slamming his shoulder into her chest to push her toward the edge. His quirk continued to eat away at her as he grabbed her sleeve, using four fingers to grab hold of her arm and pull her down on top of him, putting his legs between them at the last second to spring her back over his head and out of the ring.

The alarm sounded, and Tenko looked down at her on the grass. She was wailing in pain as her decaying fingertips clutched at her scalp, and Tenko belatedly shut off his quirk as his legs gave out beneath him. Even kneeling, his position on the edge of the arena gave him the perfect top-down view of her as she stood, patches of bleach-white skull gleaming through rivers of blood. She didn’t look up at him, searching the area before she stumbled her way toward where Recovery Girl had begun to approach. It was a miracle that his quirk hadn’t managed to reach her brain.

Tenko didn’t have to raise his hands to know her blood had dripped onto his face during the throw, the warmth of it tracing his bone structure as though it wanted to expose his skull, too. His hands shook as he pulled his gloves from his pocket, swaying to his feet only to fall again as his twitching fingertips decayed the thin fabric between them. Chest aching, his own thoughts buzzing as though spoken through radio static, he brought his fingernails to his throat.

Tenko looked out at the crowd, and they were cheering.

Tenko’s next match passed as though someone else had done it, but he was distantly aware that he’d lost. It still meant that he was tied for fourth–due a spot on the podium–but decaying his gloves had left him feeling itchy the entire rest of the day, unclean as though still covered in dust no matter how many times he rubbed them raw beneath scalding hot water. His thoughts were jumbled and hazy, punctuated only occasionally by the question of whether other heroes ever stared directly at their victims’ skulls.

Because looking at Akiyama across the room, at the way she avoided his gaze and periodically wiggled her freshly-regrown fingers, there was no other word for it. Heroes and their victims. The worst part was that people kept congratulating him on his win, complimenting his will, his grit, his power. His heart swelled at the praise, even as his mind tormented him with images of the state he’d left his opponent in. As he sat in an isolated corner of the medical bay, finally taking the space he needed to think and to wallow in his guilt, he could only come to one conclusion. There was no world in which he’d rather do that kind of damage to a person and feel nothing, or worse, feel triumph.

He thought about the fact that Izuku and Katsuki would have watched that fight. That thousands of kids just like them saw it, saw people applaud Tenko’s actions. The idea that they could use it to justify their own violence made him sick.

Maybe he was the only one that cared, but that wasn’t a problem with him. Heroes should care, should do everything in their power to avoid hurting another person. Heroes weren’t just fighters, they were celebrities and moral representatives. What sort of standard were they setting, glorifying blood and gore as they did?

Already Tenko could feel the way the itch inside him flared up, growing addicted to the feeling of living flesh beneath his palms and the praise he received in consequence. Tenko swallowed it down and clenched his fists until his fingernails pierced skin as cheers rang out in the distance, signalling the end of the final match.

When Tenko was beckoned out to take his place on the podium, the roar of the crowd was deafening. The other top-scoring students waved and smiled, but Tenko felt far too hollow to react. Instead, he looked out at the crowd that entertained themselves watching this sick gladiator match, the heroes in viewing boxes overhead, and felt contempt grip his heart. He had proven himself to them, and he detested it.

= = =

The lead up to Tenko’s graduation had been hectic for everyone involved, but even more so for him as he raced back through the halls to where the rest of his class was waiting. He’d spent the better part of the last hour trying to track down Present Mic before he went out to announce their class, a task that had proven surprisingly difficult considering how loud the man usually was. He was yet to choose a hero name, after all, and this was just about his last chance to do so before he officially debuted.

In the two semesters following the sports festival, Tenko had largely kept to himself. The event had felt like a revelation to him, one that cemented his desire to fix what was broken in the hero system. To do that, he would need power, which meant working hard enough to rise through the ranks. He would need allies too, of course, but the majority of his classmates didn’t seem to be the types to sympathise with his cause.

“Midoriya Tenko, debuting under the hero name Vestige,” his teacher said, and Teno ducked his head as he stepped out onto stage to polite applause. His smile felt forced as he accepted his license and posed for his commemorative photo with Nedzu, up until he scanned the crowd and noticed a familiar group of people, his mother and the Bakugou’s smiling up at him while Izuku whooped and cheered from where he was standing in the audience. “Midoriya-kun is a highly skilled rescue hero, and will be accepting a full-time contract at the hero Thirteen’s agency next quarter.”

Tenko waved awkwardly to the news cameras covering the event and held up a peace sign, signifying both victory and the first letter of his new hero name. The reporter standing beside the cameras nodded to him, and he sighed with relief as he shuffled out of view.

Successful Yuuei graduates were practically guaranteed to debut in the top 200, with several of the flashier heroes even known to make it to the top 50. Mori would be one of those, of course, the cameras flashing wildly as he stepped out onto stage next in a desperate bid to get a good shot of their cohort’s most promising new hero. Mori was handsome and friendly, and a natural in front of the cameras as he smiled and waved, winking at the reporter and making her stumble over her lines. The publicity of heroism was the part Tenko loathed most of all, and as Tenko caught Eraserhead’s eye where he sat in the front row of the audience, he felt as though for the first time he truly understood his reclusive mentor.

When the ceremony ended Tenko met his family in the crowd, hugging Izuku tightly and smiling through the hundreds of photos Inko insisted on taking.

Izuku was going to start his final year of middle school in April, and his sights were more set on Yuuei than ever. Tenko ruffled his brother’s hair, and hoped that his career would set a good example. Or, at the very least, that it could help keep Izuku safe.