Chapter Text
“So, you’re finally going to tell me what all this is about?” Shinso-shonen said, pulling along his carry-on as they boarded Toshinori’s private (though discrete) jet.
“Just as soon as we take off,” Midoriya-shonen assured him, carrying a slightly larger bag behind him.
Toshinori had noticed Midoriya had been rather odd when they’d met up, earlier that night. At first he thought it was just nerves regarding explaining things to Shinso. After all, it was entirely likely the secret of One for All might come out if and when Shimura-sama made an appearance, and half-truths wouldn’t exactly cut it a third time. But then Toshinori saw how Midoriya acted at other times, and he wasn’t so sure.
He would stare wistfully out the dark windows of the airport, sighing rather dramatically for a teenage boy. Other times he would suddenly smile and blush to himself like a schoolgirl with a crush, even going so far as to squirm in his chair a bit. It was actually rather unnerving. Toshinori might have considered he’d been replaced or mentally compromised by a villain, but whenever he actually spoke with someone: Midoriya was perfectly coherent and acted like he always did.
Perhaps I’m just being too nagging, Toshinori reasoned, shaking his head a bit.
Midoriya Izuku had another longing he’d seen once or twice. A desire for freedom so profound that he’d literally learned to fly. It had begun that day, five months ago, when during the UA Entrance Exam: Midoriya had not unlocked the massive stockpile of energy that changed Toshinori Yagi into All Might, but instead the Quirk of his master: Float. He’d soared through the metallic skull of the 0-Point Robot, and ever since: he’d been fighting to master the key of pure freedom he’d been gifted so graciously.
He’d trained to negate his own gravity and float in place or be pulled “up” by the spin of the Earth, spent hours at a time playing chess and sparring on ceilings to adjust to having a new perspective and sense of weight, trained under Gran Torino and Edgeshot both to finally perfect the ability of actually flying and finally tapping 5-6% of the reservoir of power that One for All had stashed away, and then an entire month of moderately normal classes to help him refine his mindset and the normality of his power. Midoriya had even assembled a few study clubs; polishing his English with the 1-B exchange student Tsunotori, trading tactical scenarios with the mentally adept of his classmates, and beginning to practice with a third Quirk he’d discovered within himself: an energy tendril of some kind he called Blackwhip.
Toshinori was unspeakably proud of his pupil. In each field he was progressing by leaps and bounds, and he’d taken on an impressive number of such pursuits. Still… the world wasn’t waiting for him to get stronger. In all truth: he very likely was far from strong enough to deal with the enemies rising against him.
All the more reason to be ready to step in while he’s growing.
They fell into an awkward silence as the automatic pilot taxied them onto the runway and started them into the air. Toshinori tried not to notice Midoriya staring out the window and letting out some air wistfully. He noticed him tapping his pocket a little nervously, right over his phone.
Considering this newest fact, Toshinori felt himself smirk a little. It wasn’t as short a list as it used to be, but there was certainly a limited number of options as to who he wanted to text so badly.
Bakugo-shonen was rather high on the set of possibilities. Midoriya treated him like a best friend (childish and tantrum-like as his constant violent outbursts might be), but he’d never seemed particularly addicted to contact with the explosive one. They’d been fighting ever since Toshinori had met the two, almost fifteen months ago. That fateful day when he’d ran without thinking, and All Might had found his successor. Even when they’d been up against him in their final exam, their cooperation was only superficial at best.
Jiro-shojo was certainly on the list of potential causes as well. First as a comrade and brother in arms, born of their joint takedown of the Hero Killer Stain; then solidified through her rather consistent flirtations over the month of June, her constant affection perhaps touching an unknown need for attention which Midoriya had otherwise been repressing. Though, if the rumors were true: she was more or less just practicing her new emotional manipulation skills, and they weren’t any closer than the majority of his rather substantial friend group. His “Dekusquad.”
Perhaps Yaoyorozu-shojo? They seemed to have found a sort of kindred spirit in one another. While she was almost certainly one of his closer friends (by caveat of being able to understand his mumble storms and give even Midoriya a run for his money on analysis) and a strong bond at that, she didn’t come across as someone that should usually cause withdrawal…
Perhaps it was Ida-shonen, or one of his other friends in the “Dekusquad”? But no. Ida, Todoroki-shonen, Tokoyami-shonen, Asui-shojo, Shiozaki-shojo, and even the array of other friends who didn’t yet qualify were no doubt enjoyable to be around; were not “longing for in under twelve hours” worthy.
His mother? But he hadn’t been this skittish during the entirety of his first week at UA combined. Maybe, but…
Ah, but of course. Who else could it be? Uraraka-shojo. His best friend, and quite evident object of affection. It seemed many things originated with her. With his birthday not long ago, and her having planned a party for him… well, maybe he should have accepted that invitation? Who knows what had happened? Perhaps they’d finally talked about their feelings?
It would certainly be better if they had now, as opposed to waiting some ridiculous amount of time to even acknowledge one another. If they didn’t address it by now… why, they might spend the next year having will-they-won’t-they’s. And that could lead to who knew how many disasters. Villains playing on their unresolved feelings, moments of doubt, potential pitfalls of their hesitating when the other was mentioned…
Though I suppose I should counsel them on dealing with threats and entanglements on the job… hm, perhaps a Hostage lesson sometime after we get back? With no more Midoribots I’ll need to think of something else which will get them to act irrationally… better ask Aizawa on that one.
As they continued to ascend, Toshinori continued to think about new plans and new lessons, but he also began to think back. Back to his glory days, and even further beyond to his early career. Whatever happened to the Allmobile…?
“Hey Fran!” Melissa asked, jogging over to her seventh-favorite cafe’s manager, “What can I fix for you today? I’m off from school to help get my things into the amature expo booths, but I’m all done if you need me to give your ice cream machine a tune-up?”
The stiff man shook his head, turning in place and pointing towards the serving tables.
“I need you to fix that one ,” he said, his grey mustache ruffling as he spoke.
Melissa turned and glanced along his finger, noticing a new waiter handing some drinks to a couple of guys, seeming… exceptionally bright, all things considered. He was smiling, and he had a bit of a swoosh to his step as he slid around the other tables and anyone who happened to be standing in his way.
“Okaaaay?”
She gave Francis a raised eyebrow, wondering what he was up to this time. He sniffed, his demeanor shifting into that of his usual “pre-lunch rush briefing” mode. It was very much like a Major giving orders to his men.
“The Expo was kind enough to send my employees tickets to bring their families here for the event,” he explained brusquely, “But as most of them prefer to go home this time of year, I ended up with a handful of spare two-way plane tickets. So I sent out a job offer to some of the high schools in the nearest countries; those in North America, Eastern Asia, Australia, the works. They’d be able to make some spare pocket money this week and see the expo on their time off.”
Melissa nodded. It sounded like a good business plan to her.
“I didn’t get many responses, but I did get a resume from a UA student in the first-year Hero course. One Denki Kaminari,” Francis explained, nodding at the boy.
Taking a closer look, Melissa nodded. She could see that sort of agility and quick reaction being a good Hero trait. It still left one question unanswered though.
“So?” she prompted.
Francis sighed.
“He’s a model employee, but he hasn’t gone to see the ameture expo or any of the preview booths that are up yet. Not once. He spends his breaks just sitting at the back table, staring off into space and sipping on a water. He isn’t even using his hourly drink pass to get something tasty out of the kitchen!”
“There could be a lot of good explanations as to why,” Melissa assured him, “Maybe he’s just anti-social? Or he could be waiting for the full expo preview tomorrow so he can experience it all at once? There are people who like to be surprised like that.”
Francis nodded in agreement, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“And if those are the real reasons: I’ll keep my monobrow out of it. But I’ve got a sinking suspicion that it’s more serious than that. He won’t confide in an old geezer like me, no matter how much I might want to help, but a young girl around his age? …well, how could a boy like him resist?”
Placing a hand on her hip and giving him a small smirk, Melissa raised an eyebrow.
“And how would you know what he can’t resist?” she teased.
The look of mildly offended innocence was too picturesque not to make her laugh a little.
“Let’s just say: he’s a shameless flirt with the customers when he thinks he can get away with it. He’s respectful though, so at least I don’t have to worry about you filing harassment charges against my establishment.”
“Is that why you said to double check with you before coming over here this week?” she asked, slapping his arm and starting to head towards one of the tables, “You were afraid some pervert would start working for you or something?”
He put up his hands in what she could only describe as the visual version of the phrase “can you blame me?” Melissa just shooed him off with a hand and grabbed an empty seat.
The best way to begin any form of research or scientific implementation was to observe the problem. So, what better way than to see what she could pick up about this “Denki.”
The first thing she figured out was that he was Japanese. She had a hard time telling nationalities at the best of times, let alone across a plaza, and his English was passable, but she did detect a familiar accent. That made him Kaminari, not Denki. It would be rude to presume such a close bond before she’d even met him, after all.
The second thing was that he was very good at hiding his emotions. Whenever he was around others: he was bright and affable and witty, and all those things people liked. But when he thought nobody was watching: Kaminari’s eyes lost that spark, and his posture seemed to tense up just a bit; as if he was forcing himself to relax around people.
Third… Kaminari seemed oddly fascinated with girls. Not in an obvious way, and less creepy than some guys, but noticeable. Whenever Kaminari chatted with one: those gold eyes would become transfixed on them. Their clothes, their expressions, their faces in turn, and even the way they moved their arms. Melissa recognized that gaze.
Kaminari had the same look her dad got when he was trying to figure out how something worked, and how to replicate it. The same look she’d seen on her own face when she would practice in the mirror to make sure she could pass herself off as… normal.
It’s a good thing you had me come over, Francis, she thought to herself, finally grabbing a menu to indicate she was ready for a server to come over and get her order, Kaminari’s broken alright. The question is: can I fix this particular problem?
Melissa was good at fixing things. She always had been, really. But that wasn’t her actual talent. Sure, her dad built support gear, and she’d made a few proofs of concept for her classes, and even a handful of items she’d constructed as hobbies, but that was more the application of her craft.
She was a scientist at heart. An explorer. Ever since her dad had put on those old 60’s & 80’s space shows (which she knew the episode names by heart, but still called that to annoy her papa), she’d been transfixed with the concept of mysteries and discovery. Of building solutions to problems rather than fighting through them.
And as an applied scientist: it was her job to create new things that smarter more technical people could turn them into useful things. She would hear about buildings being more easily destroyed these days, and develop a new type of steel that would absorb energy more easily. It was up to someone else to figure out how to put those together into a standing structure and not have it blow up when all the beams started channeling gravimetric stresses into one another. She wasn’t so much a problem solver as a problem transmuter.
Which brought her back to Kaminari. People were made of meat and electricity, which were a lot more complicated than simple food dispensers and light switches. She could fix those things because someone had a map she could read and a quick brain that could put together how to apply that 1:1. But brains didn’t have good maps, or blueprints. People didn’t follow the rules very well. Would she help, or… would she just change one big problem into a bunch of little ones of equivalent mass? Maybe she would find a bunch of small ones and fuse them into a monster that would terrorize the poor student? That would really suck.
“Now, I don’t think I’ve seen your face around before, Miss-?” a voice cut into her thoughts.
Melissa looked up to see a bright smile underneath golden eyes and sun-colored hair, with a black lightning bolt design across the top.
“Well,” she whispered conspiratorially, “I’m friends with the owner. He said to stay away in case any of his new waiters turned out to be perverts. Do you think I’m in the clear?”
Kaminari looked around dramatically, as if worried they were being watched.
“I think you’re safe,” Kaminari whispered in turn, “I’ll keep my eyes out for any though.”
She smiled. Pretty good sense of humor; now she just had to get it not to be faked.
Taking Melissa’s order, Kaminari strolled back towards the window to get it put through to Carl. She could have sworn she heard the words “ ... glad I didn’t convince Mineta to come … ” in Japanese as he went.
“Oh, Tensei! Yeah, yeah, yeah, right there-- YES!!” Nemuri cheered, watching him blunder his knight.
With that move: he’d just sealed his fate. She now had free access to the back row of his chessboard with her Queen. So long as he kept playing into her taunts, she was golden. Naturally, she took the poor little horse (giving it a seductive kiss as she set it aside); intentionally leaving her bishop open for him to snatch with the attacking rook. It was quickly removed from the board as well.
Knowing he would take the bait if she kept playing petty, Nemuri pushed a pawn forward as if to attack, opening the way for him to slip right inside her own defenses.
“Just a l- little bit deeper! Come on Tensei! Sweety!”
He rolled his eyes and instead moved his remaining tower to place her king into check.
“Tensei, you naughty, naughty boy. It looks like it’s time for the queen to give out some punishment…” she said, making sure to bring her voice up in volume and sexiness just to torment both Ida men, “Come here, so I can show you how a real woman takes it from behind.”
She slid her Queen across the board, kicking off his rook and leaving her king safe, but putting his into the bind now.
“Check,” Nemuri whispered, booping his nose.
Tensei quirked a smile before reaching over and withdrawing his own Queen back to stand between the attack. It was technically guarded by his remaining rook, but he’d lose all his forward momentum if he withdrew it. She had to go for the kill!
“Tensei you animal!!” Nemuri whined, seeing him match her Queen for Queen.
Luckily: she’d expected that. Which was why her pawns were standing by, just shy of the final row. She pushed one forward, wondering if her knights would be able to kill his rook before it smashed her new Queen. Tensei seemed content to play defensively now, which made it… rather hard actually.
He stopped four of her pawns from getting close, but he’d lost pieces along the way doing so. Now they were down to a few pawns each, and a knight on her side.
“You almost had me there, ‘Sei,” Nemuri declared, “But now it’s time I flip the tables on you and take charge! Prepare your behind for a sound beating!”
She pushed her new Queen-to-be forward into the end.
“Queen me, beyach!”
Tensei leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.
Nemuri sat there, unmoving for five seconds, processing. A distant rumble sounded like the plane was having engine trouble, but there weren’t any alarms blaring, so it must be fine.
“Tensei, sweety? I love you, but put the right piece on the damn board before I smack you silly.”
He sighed dramatically and replaced the piece for her.
“Thank you, love,” she hummed, kissing him back, “Now, where were we? Oh, that’s right: I was winning.”
Tensei moved a pawn forward.
“Queen me .”
Nemuri grabbed his piece, but smirked.
“Didn’t know you were into that stuff. I left my harness at home, so we’ll have to make do with the toys I did bring. You like glass or latex?”
His deadpan expression made her sigh.
“What, you can make that joke, but I have to have a higher brow comedy routine?”
“Mine was romantic. Yours was innuendo. Sweet vs salty.”
“Ooooooo, your bum is mine, ‘Sei.”
They danced around their Queens for a bit, but in the end: it turned into a stalemate.
“Awwwwww,” Nemuri sighed, pushing off the side of the bed where she’d been resting.
“Ow, ow, ow,” she hissed, popping her back as she stood, “You want a drink, hon? I know you like how I make fruit smoothies.”
“Actually, I thought I’d show you a new trick I picked up,” he said, slipping towards the main area and glancing around.
“Where’s Tenya?”
Nemuri was about to ask what he meant, when she also saw how empty the room was. Then she heard the familiar hum of an Ida engine coming from the bathroom.
“No way,” she said, shaking her head, “No way I broke him that quickly. And he isn’t- he wouldn’t try to-”
Tensei shook his head.
“He isn’t suicidal. Just an idiot trying to block out the sounds of his brother and sister-in-law-to-be having sex.”
…Okay, I’ll concede that’s not as sexy from his side as it could be.
“Do you think we should go to another part of the cabin for this?” Hitoshi asked, glancing at the skeletal man which had accompanied them onto the plane, currently snoozing peacefully only a few seats away, “He could wake up at any time.”
Midoriya shook his head.
“He’s the one who told me,” he admitted, “I don’t think there’s much I can say that he won’t already know.”
Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, glancing at the guy. The dude looked ancient, and sickly, yet not exactly wise. If it wasn’t for his excellent suit: Hitoshi would have thought him some American tramp out of the pages of history. What kind of secret could this possibly be?
Folding his arms, he gestured for Midoriya to get on with it then. He sighed, rubbing his arms anxiously.
“Take off your shoe,” Midoriya said suddenly.
“My-”
“I’m going to tell you something, and it’s easier to prove this way,” he explained, unlacing the red boot he wore everywhere.
For a second Hitoshi thought about making a fetish joke, but what he’d seen from Midoriya said that might not go over well. So he popped off his own left footwear. After only a few seconds, they both had a bare foot each to compare.
Hitoshi didn’t see anything obvious, but then Midoriya curled his toes, before pulling them back as well. It was like a crude imitation of a Leopard’s Claw hand pose. Hitoshi tried it himself, taking a second to utilize the often subconsciously controlled muscles, but he got it after a few seconds. Then he saw a difference. His little toe didn’t curl like Midoriya’s. It was almost like he had a joint Hitoshi didn’t.
“You-!?”
“Mhm,” Midoriya confirmed, grabbing his sock and pulling it back on, “Ever since I was five.”
“But…”
Hitoshi should his head. He’d seen Midoriya’s Quirk before. In fact, he’d seen more than one Quirk come from the guy. He flew like a supersonic drone, he could punch walls to powder, he had dark tendrils he could use like bullwhips or proxy armor, and he’d even started letting smoke out of his ears when he got embarrassed. Not to mention however Shimura kept taking the wheel when he got hypnotized. Bullshit or not, Midoriya had a Quirk.
“It’s a long story,” Midoriya admitted, “And I’ll let Nana explain the details, but as for my side: I was diagnosed Quirkless when I was five. I spent the next decade getting soundly beaten and handed death threats, along with some more serious insults. Then: I did the dumbest thing possible. I tried to save my most staunch abuser from a villain when there were Heroes standing all around. The thing was: they weren’t doing anything because their Quirks “didn’t fit the situation well.” So when I forced one of them to act because of my reckless actions and got him saved: I was scolded. Meanwhile, the kid I was saving; who’d been using his Quirk recklessly and setting off fires which were making things worse by the second: he was praised for doing a good job under pressure.”
There was oddly… no bitterness in Midoriya’s voice. He seemed fully at peace with the unfairness of the events. Hitoshi was stunned. How could someone dealt all the worst cards in life over and over… still have such a positive outlook? But the story wasn’t over, so he didn’t interrupt.
“Turns out: I impressed the right person,” Midoriya chuckled, glancing at the skeleton man, “The one person in the crowd who happened to have a Quirk that might just help. Or rather: two Quirks.”
“Two Quirks… like Todoroki’s half-n-half thing?” Hitoshi asked, thinking of the fire and ice user in Midoriya’s class.
But Midoriya shook his head.
“I mean an actual pair of Quirks. Two distinct and unique powers which became… entangled.”
Hitoshi tried to consider that. It went against almost everything he knew about Quirks. Then he remembered what Shimura-san said; about how her predecessor could pass along a vestige of himself.
“But a Quirk that could pass itself on would be like… like a meta-Quirk,” he said, shaking his head.
“Is it any different from Monoma’s ability to copy Quirks for a short time?” Midoriya asked, clearly catching his train of thought.
Well… that is a way to look at it.
“So what was this… entangled Quirk?”
Midoriya held up his arm and it crackled with green lightning.
“The first power was a Quirk next to useless on its own. In fact, I’m still not sure how the first holder figured out how to access it. It allowed them to pass on their Quirk to someone else by transfusing their DNA. The second was a sort of stockpile. It allows the user to build up energy within their body and store it as sheer force. It doesn’t seem to deplete at all, which is kind of scary.”
Hitoshi put together what he was getting at, and paled.
“At the sports festival… you blew some stuff apart way tougher than what you did after,” he realized, “and Komori showed me your Entrance Exam… it just kept building each time it was passed on, didn’t it?”
He nodded, putting down his hand.
“I had to train for months just to survive it going off. Even then, we were pretty sure the only safe level I could use would be 5%.”
“Damn…”
Then Hitoshi frowned.
“That doesn’t sound a lot like flying.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be,” Midoriya admitted, looking suddenly sheepish, “I was just supposed to start being super strong. But we all forgot a little detail: the first power passed on Quirk s . Plural. It wasn’t just gathering power, it was consuming each new user’s Quirk ability. My body somehow subconsciously recognized that I wouldn’t be able to endure the power safely, so it kind of… went back a cycle. The user before Toshinori-sensei had a Quirk called Float, so I unlocked that instead of the stockpile. But since it was so entrenched… well, it wasn’t just floating anymore.”
Hitoshi let out a surprised whistle.
“So, what, you’ve just been learning new super powers each weekend now?”
“N-not every weekend!” Midoriya protested, “And I’ve only got eight at the most!”
Okay. That’s less OP than I thought. Still bullshit though.
“So what are they?” he asked, counting on his fingers, “Passing on, Stockpiling, Floating, that shadow-tentacle stuff, and smoking… what else?”
Midoriya shrugged.
“What do you mean-?!” Hitoshi shrugged, imitating him.
“I mean-” Midoriya shrugged again, “I have no idea. I knew about Passing on and Stockpile from Toshinori-sensei, and Ukiyo I unlocked on my own, but all the others just kind of… popped up! I only know what Blackwhip’s called because I managed to get in contact with Banjo, the guy who had it before me! I don’t even know what the smoke actually is.”
Folding his arms, Hitoshi smirked.
“I suppose this is the part where I hypnotize you and we find out?”
“I-If you want to,” Midoriya mumbled, getting timid rather suddenly, “I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to use your Quirk-”
“Do you want to or not?” Hitoshi demanded, cutting him off.
Midoriya blinked at him, clearly realizing the cue.
“Yes. -!”
Mina yawned, not entirely sure why she was even there. She wasn’t exactly helping, after all.
“You need to be harder! Stronger! I’ll beat you until you’re so hard you’ll be able to eat bullets for breakfast! You’ll be able to get hit by All Might and keep going! You’ll be my sidekick, and #2 Hero at the same time!” Bakugo was screaming, using Eijiro like some kind of lawn mower.
That was, if lawn mowers tunneled through solid concrete. At 3 in the morning.
“S-suuuuuper manly…” Eijiro yawned, tilting his hair forward to protect his jaw.
“Bakugo, can’t you just go back to sleep?” she yawned in return, picking up the sleepy call, “You’re not even training like you usually do. You’re just kinda… running back and forth.”
“S’fine!” Eijiro suddenly insisted, seeming more awake as he called to her, “I’m okay!”
“Damn right you are!” Bakugo praised(?) him, “let’s hit the walls now!”
And like he weighed no more than a shovel or a rake, Bakugo picked up Mina’s boy, propped him up on his shoulder, and went towards the nearest concrete wall. To her alarm: he started swinging him into it headfirst, cutting deep gouges into the artificial stone with each swipe.
“Tell me when you need to come up for air!” Bakugo shouted, sounding oddly hoarse.
Mina blinked in surprise. Was his constant screaming starting to finally damage his throat? No… no way, he wasn’t- But he was. Bakugo Katsuki was crying as he used his best friend as a stress reliever.
Kami-dang it, I thought we talked about this!
“Bakugo, stop-”
“No! I won’t stop! No more weakness! No more sleep! We’ve got to get stronger!”
“Bakugo, you’re going to hurt him!” she insisted.
“I’m fine, Mina-chan, I can last a few more hours!” Eijiro insisted, giving her a look to drop it.
She didn’t.
“Don’t let him do this! He’s going to hurt both of you soon!”
“Then we’ll get stronger, and we stop hurting!” Bakugo choked out, almost desperately.
“KACCHAN!” Mina finally screamed, getting his attention and freezing him solid.
The last time someone other than Midoriya had called him that: Bakugo had knocked Sero out cold with a single headbutt. He had then proceeded to walk off without acknowledging a single person in any of four packed rooms he passed through as he headed for the nearest gym. This time though… was somehow even more terrifying.
Bakugo let go of Eijiro, dropping him to the ground with a dull thud. Then he dropped to his knees, staring at the eviscerated wall with eyes Mina was certain didn’t see what was before them. She could hear the gentle dripping of his tears as he just sat there, stock still. Eijiro sat up, his hardening slowly wearing off as he did so, before seeing Bakugo’s face and looking shocked.
“Bakugo, buddy…” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing his shoulder.
Bakugo didn’t shake it off, nor take any other action. He just kept staring at the wall, as if he couldn’t comprehend it. Then Mina realized what was wrong, and stepped closer, unsure what she could hope to do.
He was asleep. His eyes were open, and he was crying, but Bakugo was out cold. “No more sleep!” he’d said, “We’ve got to get stronger!” There were only four possible reasons she could think of for Bakugo to decide that out of the blue. Only one of them included dragging his best friends out of bed and to the UA gym in the middle of the night.
“H-how long do you think-?” Mina swallowed, unable to fully voice her worry.
Eijiro shook his head.
“A week? Maybe less? Hopefully less,” he mumbled, “He didn’t tell us anything after he thought he saw Stain at the Mall. And then with Midoriya getting attacked too… I thought he’d tell us.”
“Since when does Bakugo tell anyone anything?” Mina asked, cursing his stubborn nature, “He probably started seeing Stain in his nightmares that very night, and did the most Bakugo thing he could think of: force himself to stay awake and train until he’d be “strong enough to win.””
Grasping at her hair, almost tempted to grab her horns, Mina tried to calm down as the irritation and anger at her friend’s stupidity overwhelmed her.
Bakugo was such an oddity. At times he was abrasive as all get out, while at others he showed tiny sparks of compassion even Midoriya would blush at. He’d treated the cavalry team like expendable meatshields during the sports festival, only to give up his chance at the third round to let Eijiro take it. He’d become tentative friends with Monoma during his internship with Best Jeanist, and even helped Kaibara and Tsuburaba get counseling for their… dating thing? At the same time, he’d evidently fought Stain and saved a dozen pros, going against any and all rules to do so, and then cussed Midoriya out for not hitting him hard enough. It was annoying, and Mina was getting sick of him.
“You can’t punch a ghost! You can’t blow up bad dreams! He’s gonna get himself killed, and it’s gonna be our fault for letting him!” she screamed, grabbing his collar and tensing her arms; resisting the urge to shake Bakugo like a ragdoll.
“When will you stop being so selfish and let us help you for once?!” she bellowed, feeling tears in her own eyes now.
Eijiro’s hand found her back, rubbing small circles into it as she felt the helplessness wash over her. It was worse than when she was a kid and some gigantic brute of a villain threatened one of her friends. It was the same crushing weight of helplessness; the knowledge that no matter what she did: someone was being hurt by the threat she was facing, and she could do nothing to stop it.
The feeling pressed down on her shoulders until she couldn’t do anything but hold his collar and let the tears fall. Eijiro got closer, hugging her and acting as her anchor while she tried to find a way to be Bakugo’s. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Oh, dearies…” a soft voice muttered into their plight.
Mina turned in desperation, hoping beyond hope that it was who she thought it was. Recovery Girl: the Hero they needed right now more than anything. At her side was Hound Dog, looking more human and more concerned than she’d ever seen.
Stepping purposefully into the gym, the elderly woman placed a hand to Bakugo’s forehead, then two fingers at his neck, and finally a small flashlight into his eye. She let out a tense breath.
“Code six, Ryo…” she sighed, “Let’s get him up to a bed. One of the good ones, not the medical cots. Get him an IV drip to help keep his nutrient levels from dropping too quickly.”
“Yes, sensei,” he growled, so softly it sounded almost like a purr or a dull whimper.
In a single, gentle motion: he picked up Bakugo and carried him out. Then Recovery Girl looked at the other two.
“You poor kids… Shota’ll be hearing about this one when he gets back from his medical leave. Not seeing someone suffering from that in his own classroom, and not seeing you two dragging yourselves down after him to boot… augh.”
She gestured for them to follow.
“No sense making you take the train tonight. We’ll set you up in Bakugo’s room, and I’ll talk to the three of you in the morning.”
“B-but it iiiiiiiiiis morning,” Eijiro yawned.
“It’s morning when I say it’s morning,” the nurse said, firmly but not unkindly, “But if you want to keep eating gravel: I won’t stop you. I can wait until you pass out from lack of everything and then tie you to a bed too. We’ve got spares.”
Mina didn’t know about Eijiro, but bed and then an explanation sounded freaking spectacular right then.
“Congratulations Izuku!”
“You have to stop using One for All immediately!”
Recoiling in shock from the array of inputs, Izuku felt his mind reeling as he tried to figure out what was happening. The entire mindscape had changed from the prior two times he’d been there.
The first time: it had been a void of black winds and mists, broken only by Nana, a concrete floor, and a wall. Periodically the swirling darkness would form into vaguely humanoid shapes, but they’d quickly pull back apart into component breezes.
The second time: the wall and floor had been gone, and Nana hadn’t been present. Instead, he’d met with the fifth user: Banjo, who’d given him some pointers on how Blackwhip worked.
Now though: the winds were less ragged, blowing about the area like there was a sphere of glass holding it back. The concrete floor was back, but now more defined and tangible. The wall now had a firm distance away, about three quarters of the way across the orb of calm. Rather than shadowy figures though, he saw six distinct people, and one body made of a golden fire. Five were seated in tall thrones, staring at him intently, while two stood facing the wall, almost… avoiding him.
Nana was back, which made Izuku relax some. And Banjo was there, which was nice. The others though… who could they be?
Izuku himself wasn’t much more substantial than last time though. His arms and feet were tangible, as were a pair of strips up his legs into his hips, his eyes, ears, and a section of his back for some odd reason.
Hold on a second-
His brain finally connected the two statements that had been shouted at him when he’d arrived to words, and what those words meant.
Why is that a congratulations?!
Nana stood up, walking over and pulling him into a hug.
“The congratulations are for finally getting together with Ochako! You and your Senchan , hm?”
Whatever visible parts of Izuku’s face must have gone up in fire with how much he was blushing. Two of the other vestiges chuckled, but the last one seemed to wilt a little. Izuku managed to hug Nana back, which meant she would take another few seconds and then release him.
Once he was free, Izuku managed to float himself over to the center of the eight thrones. He glanced around to each of the people there, trying to gauge them. He couldn’t tell their order, and had a vague curiosity as to who would be in charge. By seniority: Nana would be one of the more junior members, but she seemed to be a rather forceful personality. Then again, maybe she was just more prominent because he was more connected to her? But then: why wasn’t All Might here?
“He’s this one, sweety,” Nana said, indicating the being of fire, “Since he’s still alive (thank heaven), he won’t appear here like the rest of us.
Okay, so if that’s All Might, and he’s 8… and you’re next to him as 7…
He turned to the light-haired guy with scars, but he shook his head.
“Call me Hikage,” he introduced himself, “Shinomori Hikage’s the full title, but I’m not picky, kid. And I’m fourth, not sixth. En’s busy talking with your spy buddy.”
Oh…
Izuku would have frowned, not exactly sure why they were all re-arranged. There wasn’t a spiritual seating chart, was there?
Hikage laughed.
“We just grab whatever chair we feel like,” he said, jerking a thumb at the single jewel above each of them, “They aren’t exactly numbered.”
That made more sense.
So if this “En” is 6, and Banjo-san said he was 5, you’re 4…
He pointed around to the empty chairs and then to the men standing at the wall.
2 and 3? he guessed, figuring that the white-haired man sitting at the head of the group had to be First.
“Right on the money,” Banjo said, before leveling a finger, “And if you wanna call me Daigoro or Lariat, those are okay too. I know you’ve got a Hero thing, and Nana’s playing for the whole “family connection” what with her… ah… nevermind.”
Izuku glanced over at his adoptive grandmother, seeing her glaring at poor Banjo. Evidently it was a touchy subject.
Banjo’s a pretty cool name, he thought to them, Funky, even.
“Right?!” Banjo grinned, “I knew I liked you!”
“If,” First interrupted, “we could get back to the matter at hand? Now that introductions are out of the way.”
He glanced back at the other two, frowning.
“So far as they go.”
Izuku glanced at the vacant thrones, then to 2 & 3. They seemed… oddly apprehensive towards him. Maybe even a touch hostile? He probably shouldn’t take their chairs. Maybe “En” wouldn’t mind? No, best just to stand.
“Park it here,” Banjo insisted, patting the seat between him and First, “They won’t mind. They don’t treat it with any respect when they do sit in it. Crouch on the cushion like some kind of animal.”
“They’re imaginary cushions, Daigoro,” Hikage rebuked him gently.
“And they’re imaginary boots,” Banjo sniffed, “your point?”
“Despite our usual opposition,” Nana cut in, “Daigoro does have a point. However, he also has no room to talk. I suggest we let Yoichi speak.”
Izuku managed to move his misty body into a sitting position, settling himself in the chair beside First; “Yoichi.”
“Shigaraki Yoichi,” he introduced himself, “Based on your sudden tenseness: you recognize my family name. The same one my adoptive nephew carries.”
Tomura Shigaraki…
“That’s the one. But I’m afraid I haven’t been preparing to meet you here for the sake of discussing our family tree, nor toasting your new relationship. Rather: we need to warn you of the dangers of One for All.”
Sitting up as straight and attentively as he could, Izuku nodded, giving First his full attention. He smirked, clearly liking the title.
“I suppose the first thing to do is give you good news,” he amended, seeming to relax just a bit, “It won’t kill you. You’re at least beyond that concern at least.”
Oh… that’s good, Izuku tried to stay positive.
He wasn’t aware that was a concern after training his body. Certainly he could still be deformed, but death was… not really in the picture, at least on his own. Then again, if that was the good news…
“Sometimes you ain’t so lucky, kid,” Hikage spoke up, touching a finger to the double-scar on his eye.
You-?
“Mhm,” he nodded, “You won’t have to worry about it, seeing as you’re a better vessel than I was.”
Izuku glanced at the muscular frame of his fourth predecessor. That couldn’t be right.
“Not physically,” Hikage laughed, “But I had a Quirk. You didn’t. The human body isn’t designed to handle multiple Quirks at once. Don’t you ever wonder why the Nomu are so deformed? They probably had to be genetically engineered to high hell and back, or else be born with a very strong medical Quirk to survive having more than one in them. I died of old age when I turned 40.”
Stunned wasn’t even close to how dumbstruck that made Izuku. Old Age? At 40?! All Might had been a Hero longer than that!
“Like I said, you and Toshi won’t have this problem. One for All only counts as one. Thanks to Yoichi and Stockpiling’s power getting all mixed up, each time it gets passed on from someone with a new Quirk: it gets shunted to the core, so it doesn’t do that. Downside is: it won’t help anyone until after it gets passed on.”
Couldn’t you just pass it on and then have it… passed back?
Hikage shrugged. Izuku turned to First, but he just blinked in surprise. He turned to look at the two recluses, a frown on his face.
“You know, we don’t actually know,” he admitted, “The only ones who had it long enough to try were those two, and their paranoia almost prevented it from making it past the first transfer. I wouldn’t recommend trying it.”
Just curious.
First chuckled quietly.
“Yeah. You are that.”
Then the air turned more sober.
“Well, now onto the bad news,” First said, “One for All won’t kill you, but it will desiccate you.”
Izuku stared at him, then glanced past to All Might’s fiery form.
I thought he was injured fighting the “Family Enemy” he mentioned? You mean his true form-?
“Is a result of our Quirk,” Nana whispered, nodding.
But how?! I thought you said- Izuku’s blood ran cold, Is it because we’re Quirkless? Drawing on our vitality or something!?
First shook his head.
“Nothing so drastic. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Quirk Singularity Theory?”
No… no way, it couldn’t be an emergent Quirk, Izuku thought, shaking his head.
“Not that either, though I wouldn’t be surprised if we develop one or two, supposing you find a way to pass it on,” Yoichi smiled wryly, “But that’s not the aspect of the Theory I wanted you to consider. How much of the Theory do you actually know?”
Well… the theory is based on the now evident fact that as Quirks intermingle and combine through the generations: they’ll slowly become more complex or more powerful. And then both more complex and more powerful. It has two major backing theories. The first is actually part of the original theory: and used to be called the Paranormal Singularity Theory, before being changed to the more dramatic: Quirk Doomsday Theory. It posits that eventually there will be Quirks that are either too powerful for children to control or simply so complex that when they mature they’ll explode in some fashion, which will result in massive death. One possible reason is given that Quirks might begin to develop to the point they can spontaneously develop new powers barely related to the actual base, such as someone with the ability to generate Ice and Fire suddenly able to control smoke. It’s ended with a supposition that there will be a Quirk which will become so diverse that it will become a commonality, rather than a unique aspect of each person. There’s also a sub-theory to Doomsday called: Quirk Retribution Theory, which takes the pessimistic view that before Quirks stabilize, and probably during the massive death due to uncontrollable Quirks: there will arise a Quirk so chaotic and powerful, or a number of the same, that they will wipe out humanity because they can’t be controlled or stopped. Followers of that belief have some rather radical beliefs and methods, especially since most of them tend to be beyond the law in terms of sentencing and even capture priority. The more modern theory departs from the pessimism of the old a bit, and is more commonly called the Inverse Singularity Theory these days. It suggests that the human race will evolve in a general fashion as Quirks begin to become more universal. That subdivides into two further sub theories: Meta Theory and Unification Theory. Each suggests a slightly different way the disasters could be averted. Meta Theory suggests that certain Quirks will become hereditary over time, such as the Ida Family “Engine” or the Asui Family “Frog,” and that certain castes or tribes will form with dominant or recessive Quirks, much like hair color is today, and that the singularity won’t come to pass, but instead that a new social age will be created by the stabilization, largely dependent on the styles of standardized Quirk around when that happens. Unification Theory is the more radical, and was supposedly written by a descendent of the original theorist. It presents the idea that humanity as a whole will develop stronger will and greater physical abilities distinct from Quirks specifically to host them, and that as Quirks begin to mutate and overwhelm what would have been the threshold for human survival: we ourselves will simply be more capable of resisting the destruction the original theories posit.
Most of his ramble (which he’d even added imaginary emphasis for, to help with their listening convenience) hadn’t so much as caused the vestiges to blink. However, his knowledge of the Retribution Theory seemed to unsettle them all. Even 2 & 3 looked over, narrowing their eyes a bit.
“I… hadn’t heard that earlier one,” First said hesitantly, glancing to Nana and then to All Might, “Neither of them had any experiences with that theory.”
I thought you had access to my memories?
“The broad strokes, kid,” Banjo said, “Comes with the territory of living in your head. Your identity informes us of some of the big things which define you, and specific memories you recall: we can see in real time, but otherwise: we try to avoid it. We value your privacy, after all.”
That’s reassuring, Izuku admitted, relaxing a little, But All Might and Nana wouldn’t have heard of this theory. It’s related to a religious and political movement called Humarise, who consider it almost holy text. They believe that the only salvation is for the Quirkless to band together and create a new generation of “pure” humans to take over after the Quirks annihilate themselves. That… or remove Quirks now before it’s too late. It only started forty or fifty years ago, and All Might was probably training with Nana by then, so he wouldn’t have been approached.
“And how do you know so much about a terrorist cult?” 2nd asked, growling out a question that made Izuku jump in fear.
I was approached after being suicided-baited; four years before I met All Might, Izuku thought at him in-particular, keeping his thoughts as firm as he could, They said that it would start to change in earnest during my generation, and I was critical to rebuilding the world. I turned them down. I don’t believe in any of the theories. They’re all too broad.
The second user harrumphed, mumbling something about Humarise “not being a bad idea.” Izuku didn’t know if he liked 2.
“Well, it’s time to revise your views, Izuku,” First sighed, “You and All Might may have just proved at least one of the sub theories.”
His opinions on the two aloof members of the mindscape forgotten, Izuku focused on the leader once again, suddenly alert.
“See, that addendum about mutation at the end there is pretty clearly rooted in fact,” First explained, “Sort of a logical projection, if you will. We already know many Quirks cause minor adjustments to their user as they develop. Stuff they need to better support the variations from their parents. Such as, for instance: someone developing more resilient organs to endure flying at high speeds without suffering G-strain as bad? Perhaps veins that are able to flex to allow energy to move through them more easily when it’s inside their arms? Lungs able to expel smoke better when their body generates large clouds of it? Maybe even muscle cells that can run more efficiently on pure, non-caloric energy as opposed to nutrients, and don’t have to be as big, or as resilient to help support the rest of the body?”
Izuku realized what First was getting at.
And suppose the source of that energy was hampered or went away…
“They wouldn’t support the old input nearly as well,” Yoichi confirmed.
But that kind of change… He would have noticed! Any time he deactivated his power, he’d notice the difference in weight and size-
“Izuku,” Nana said gently, “Toshi never truly “turned off” One for All. Not until his injury forced him to. Even then, he kept it up as long as he could, as often as he could. It became like breathing to him. When I gave him One for All: he managed to activate it instantly, on instinct. And after that… he slept with it active, at least partially. Even when he was exhausted, he still kept around 30% running, like how your face remains tense when you’re not using it, but unwinds when you sleep. Forty years uninterrupted Quirk use. He was probably a skeleton underneath his power well before the battle. He just… didn’t notice. In a way, our “Family Enemy” may well have saved his life in devastating his body. He likely had so little musculature left… his organs might have started failing on their own before he could recognize the danger. If you’d emulated him, even by leaving it on at 1% since you received it: you very well could have 15 to 20% locked down by now, not realizing your muscles were literally decaying beneath your skin.”
Izuku looked at the flaming figure, so thin and familiar. He pictured how he looked as Toshinori-sensei. Gaunt, desiccated, fragile. And then he would inexplicably inflate into All Might, and seem as solid as ever. He’d compared it to a fat swimmer at the pool sucking in his gut to appear broad-chested… maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth.
How do you know this?
“To be honest, we didn’t for a while,” First admitted, “We thought it was due to the injury, same as everyone else. We didn’t realize what One for All was doing to him until, well… until you took it, and we noticed it start to change you as well.”
Before he could think, Izuku brought his hand to his eyes, looking for that tell-tale sign of bone and skin. He seemed fine…
“So far: your body hasn’t changed much,” Banjo assured him, “Only a few percent beyond what it should actually be able to handle. Luckily for you: Toshinori isn’t a complete idiot. Having you build muscle to sustain the power was a good move. Now you have to keep on that path. Instead of letting the Quirk mold you to it, you have to reinforce your body to handle the Quirk, and mold it instead.”
But using it at all… don’t I risk, well… undoing my work?
“Not if you’re careful,” Hikage assured him, “One thing I paid careful attention to when re-comparing my own life to Toshinori’s was when we used One for All. I never slept with it on, or did menial tasks with it unless I was training. He did. In essence: his muscles were never tearing or being used, even for the simplest action. While he skyrocketed the Quirk’s power, his own body was similar to someone with a paralyzed limb. It didn’t get used, and the body broke down useless tissue. What he was using was probably exclusively his newer cells.”
So as long as I only use it when I’m fighting or otherwise going beyond my body’s natural power, and I make sure to work out normally on the side… I should be fine? Izuku hoped.
“Mostly,” Nana said, seeming pained, “You probably shouldn’t let yourself float when you sleep. It’s not convenient, regardless, but…”
For a moment, Izuku wanted to argue. Then he thought about how the changes to Stockpile might translate to Ukiyo. Nana sniffed irritably.
“Rename my Quirk will ya…?” she mumbled.
My bones might get unnecessarily fragile, he guessed, or my fat cells might start to degrade on their ability to store calories.
“Probably,” Nana admitted, moving past her irritation at his artistic license, “But that isn’t to say you shouldn’t let some of the changes take place. If you constantly practice at flying high speeds, your body will adjust “ Ukiyo ” to let you endure the G-forces better, and eventually you’ll be able to fly at 100%. As you are, you’d probably knock yourself out trying, if you don’t kill yourself.”
Right. So: strain my Quirks or use them sparingly, Izuku confirmed, feeling a bit down.
Nana seemed sympathetic, and he remembered she too was used to being able to just float, care-free.
“If you talk to Recovery Girl or maybe Toshi’s friend: I’m sure they’ll be able to find a way to help reinforce your body a little,” she promised, “then you can fly more casually.”
“And it’s not to say you’ll be shackled like this forever,” First added, “just until your body and One for All acclimate to one another. If you want to go flying for an evening to unwind, it won’t destroy you. It’s like… eating ice cream and playing a rocket simulator for an afternoon instead of working out. It’s not the healthiest, but as long as you do it in moderation-”
All of the vestiges coughed at First, casting shame.
“-then you should be fine,” he finished.
That made Izuku feel better.
“That’s about it,” Banjo said, relaxing a bit, “you want us to fill you in on anything while we wait for En to finish up with your buddy? You’re getting a pretty good handle on Blackwhip, so I can’t say much more than practice, practice, practice. Texture is everything with it. You’ve got a feel for adhesive vs bludgeoning, but you’ve got to mix them a bit. You can’t catch a car with just one or the other, and you certainly can’t lift things.”
Um… what are the Quirks I haven’t unlocked yet? Izuku wondered, touching his ear thoughtfully, The newest one… doesn’t seem to work.
“Synergistic failure, I’m afraid,” Hikage sighed.
…no way, he thought, almost giddily, I actually guessed right?!
“Way,” Yoichi grinned, “From what we can tell: your body recognized Stockpile as a dangerous power source, and tried to deflect your conscious attempt to access it by moving to a Quirk which it thought it recognized.”
Senchan’s Anti-gravity.
“Exactly,” Nana said, “Her Quirk and Float are very similar, and since you were no worse for wear when hers permeated your body: my Quirk was marked as “safe.””
And when I drew out Dark Shadow’s sentience,
“Blackwhip resonated with her awakening,” Banjo confirmed.
That’s so cool!! Izuku mentally cheered, What about Stockpile itself?
The vestiges shrugged.
“I helped keep the power down to what I used to operate at,” Nana admitted, “But turning it on? That was all you. You overrode your fear and your body’s subconscious desire for safety and… boom .”
Izuku nodded, trying not to let his pride grow too big.
What about the smoke?
“That’s En’s. Smokescreen, they call it,” Hikagi said, “Your connection with Yaoyorozu might be part of it, but it’s not really the same kind of synergy. Plus, she hasn’t used it on you, so…”
He shrugged.
Will it just finish awakening later, or… will I have to find someone else to help get it out?
“You could probably force it, but I wouldn’t risk it,” Hikage said, “The other Quirks came that way, so your body’s probably going to fight against forced awakenings. You’ve probably already noticed how it’s hard to go anywhere that isn’t 5, 6, 30, or 100% with Stockpile, right? Your body’s fighting you. You’ll have to either fight it into submission, or hopefully meet someone who’ll sort of… reawaken it.”
Well, 6% is pretty good so far. I don’t want to kill anyone on accident yet.
3rd sniffed, and Banjo threw a pebble at him.
What about your Quirk, Hikage?
“Danger Sense!” he said proudly, “I’ve been trying to help you get ahold of it, but it’s always been forced, and your body rejects it. Even when it does work: I’m starting to worry it’s going to do more harm than good.”
How so?
“For me: it just made a buzzing in my head when I was in danger. But when I tried to warn you about Shi-”
Hikage broke off and glanced at First.
“...about Tomura: it just seemed to distract you and fill your head with interference. I worry it might cause you actual pain if you unlocked it.”
What does it do?
“Just what it says on the tin, Izuku,” Hikage chuckled, “It’s like a sixth sense for danger. It works on two levels: personal danger and physical danger. The former is kind of like a reading of intentions, going off when it feels bad intentions from someone nearby, as well as how they’re acting on it. It can be a bit difficult if someone nearby is angry or sad though, since that acts kind of like static on the radio. Clouds what’s actually happening, kind of. The other side is when something’s actually gonna hurt you, like a falling rock or something, which you get a general direction and image of, or at least I did.”
He raised a finger in warning.
“Don’t rely on it though. It can be fooled. If you run into someone who thinks they’re helping, even if it’s harming you: Danger Sense won’t go off. The first level trumps the second, so if someone tries to toss you a knife and it ends up coming in sharp-end first on accident: you could get stabbed.”
Good to know.
“As for those two…” First said, nodding at 2 & 3, “I’ll try and convince them to tell you themselves. The names aren’t even that descriptive like ours, so telling you them will just get you theorizing about the wrong kinds of training. Better than you getting bad info from us and developing mental blocks or something.”
I understand. Thanks for everything.
“No problem, Izuku. You’re family now, after all,” First joked, leaning back in his chair.
They fell into an odd silence for a few moments, as if waiting for En to come back. When nothing happened for a few seconds, Banjo sighed dramatically.
“Alright, I’ll tell ya about my Hero days. Don’t twist my arm over it.”
Thank you Banjo-senpai!
Blinking a new set of eyes, En felt themself get settled in Midoriya’s body. They shivered in annoyance as all the different sensations came flooding in.
I forgot how much I hated being in a body…
“You’re not Shimura-san,” a voice said, making them glance over.
“No. No I am not,” En confirmed, pulling Midoriya’s legs up so his shoes were on the chair, “Call me En.”
“...En?” Shinso said, frowning.
“That’s right.”
He seemed bothered.
“I know you wanted Shimura to tell you some things, but she needed to talk to Midoriya this time,” En apologized, “But that’s why I volunteered.”
Shinso raised an eyebrow.
“ You want to talk to me now?” he said skeptically.
I like this one. He’s certainly got the talent for paranoia.
“I figured I might be able to help you more than the others,” En clarified, “At least, of the willing ones. Two of the vestiges don’t like you. Or Midoriya. Or, well… anyone.”
“Goodie.”
Sarcasm too. Very nice.
“You might have noticed Midoriya’s started picking up my Quirk: Smokescreen? I’m afraid that it’s not exactly a great power, Hero-wise. I can get out of a tough spot and run, but other than that: I had to use my wits and my gear. Probably one of the reasons I did so well as a less conspicuous Hero.”
That seemed to get Shinso’s attention.
“And you’re… what, gonna pass on your skills to me?”
“If you want them. I only have so many, but I can share what I know.”
En let Shinso consider that while they made Midoriya’s head look around. It had once been a habit to observe each location they entered carefully and analyze it for escape routes, possible locations for hidden adversaries, and even potential edibles. Evidently they’d got rusty after half a century being dead.
Not really surprising when I put it like that…
They seemed to be in a standard private jet, with two rows of comfortable seats along either side, and a plain aisle down the middle. The emergency exit seemed up to regulation, and there was no door up to the cockpit, indicating robotic piloting system. Midoriya’s arms could probably pull a chair out if they needed a weapon, but if cruising altitude hadn’t been dropped significantly: they shouldn’t have any unexpected guests.
External threats were the real problem. Air to air missiles had always been a concern En had placed higher than their need to use air travel anywhere. All for One could burn a few dozen connections and then boom , no more En. He’d certainly tried it after the second attempt to get “his Quirk” back.
“How would you teach me?” Shinso asked into their thoughts.
“How does anybody teach anyone?” En countered.
“Usually by being present to do said teaching.”
En turned Midoriya’s eyes on him for a moment, before scowling.
“Don’t sass me. If I had my support item: you’d be tied up and on the ceiling by now.”
They’d expected that to scare him more, but Shinso seemed more… intrigued?
“What kind of support item was it?”
En shrugged Midoriya’s shoulders, gesturing towards his arms.
“Sports tape, of a sort. I had it extra long, and I could manipulate it to be more like the lovechild of a lasso and grappling hook.”
Standing up, Shinso stepped over to the baggage storage unit and pulled out his carry-on. He unzipped the top and pulled out a tightly wound fabric spiral. Unfurling it, Shinso wrapped it around his neck a few times into a sort of loose scarf.
“Like this?”
“Yes, but mine were better. That’s far too obvious.”
Shinso laced his fingers into the capture fabric, and managed a passable attempt at constricting Midroriya’s legs. En managed to get Midoriya’s own hands into the path of the attack, twisting it just so and causing the entire array to gain slack. It expanded like an army of hula-hoops, falling to Shinso’s sides before constricting once more into a prison around his arms and torso.
“That’s why I kept mine around my arms,” En informed him, before releasing the tension, “Even if they got it back on me: it would only be around something I could deal with.”
Gathering up the materials, Shinso seemed properly humbled, and looked like he was going to put his little gadget away. En had other plans. They pulled Midoriya’s legs off the chair and walked him over to Shinso, grabbing the end of the fabric. Without a word, they put Midoriya’s body behind him and placed his hands on Shinso’s arm, winding the end of the capture weapon in the way En remembered; all the way up to the shoulder, careful to allow the elbow its full range of motion.
Shinso didn’t react much after En took their place and started working. He did stiffen when Midoriya’s scarred fingers touched his skin unexpectedly, but that was it. And then he was completely prepared, despite the excess still hanging over Shinso’s shoulder and pooling on the floor.
“Now: give your wrist a little flick,” En instructed him calmly, pointing towards where a few complimentary water bottles were in cupholders against the back wall.
They stood still for a moment, then Shinso tried it. A handful of the capture weapon slid off his arm and into his hand.
“A little harder,” En prompted gently, “This is heavier than tape. Flick your wrist forward, and direct it with your hands like this:”
Shaping Midoriya’s fingers into the proper shape, En made a pointing gesture with two fingers forward; two curled back, with the thumb flat along the index.
Shinso gave it a try, and this time: the scarf shot out almost halfway to the water bottles. He glanced back in a knee-jerk reaction of amazement and seeking approval. En smiled and gave him an approving nod.
“Now call it back. If you curl your middle and little fingers like so: it’ll even partially wrap itself back up when it comes…”