Chapter Text
A Fragile Light
A brilliant full moon hung above a cold autumn sky, the silver disk illuminating the sleeping forest below. The birds had fallen silent hours before, their song taken up by a myriad of insects, while the predators of the night made no noise to betray their presence.
Amidst that untamed space, a pop sent an ember spiralling heavensward, carried by the updraft from its parent flame. In a small clearing surrounding it, a dozen or so tents were arranged. A gentle warmth filled the space, the surrounding chill kept at bay. For nearly each tent, a girl, between the ages of 6 and 17 sat around the fire, gathered logs or stones serving as seats. On one of them, her long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail, gazed into the fire with unblinking silver eyes.
The sharp crack of a snapping branch drew her gaze to the edge of their little camp. From the gloom, a young woman with short cropped black hair, electric blue eyes, and a spiked leather jacket emerged. She walked quickly to the girl and knelt.
“Report, Thalia,” the girl spoke, her voice quiet but full of authority.
“A mortal strayed inside our perimeter. She is…” Thalia worried at her bottom lip, her face a mask failing to conceal her worry. “Your presence is needed, Lady Artemis.”
Artemis, goddess of the hunt, stood. Following Thalia’s lead, she wound through the trees like a ghost. Whereas Thalia’s feet broke leaves and left impressions of her combat boots in the soft soil, Artemis left nary a trace of her passing. Insects ceased their song as they approached, only to resume once the pair had gone.
After a couple minutes, they arrived at another of Artemis’ Hunters. The young teen was down on both knees, her hands pressed on the stomach of a woman. A stomach that was large and round in the way only pregnancy could cause. Blood, red, rich, and thick, flowed through the teen’s fingers, despite the pressure. The woman turned her head, her face pale and sunken, to face the goddess.
“Please,” she spoke in a weak voice. “Please, save my baby.”
Artemis closed the distance between them and knelt opposite her Hunter. Behind her, Thalia stood guard. With a careful eye, she took in the woman’s state. In addition to the seeping gut wound, she was covered in scrapes, bruises, and other lacerations. A hand reached over her swollen belly confirmed the unborn child was well, but the blood loss would doom it to its mother’s fate if no action was taken.
“Lady Artemis,” the kneeling teen looked at her with pleading eyes, “please save her. I cannot stop the bleeding myself.”
“Nor can I,” the goddess said, allowing resigned sympathy to flow into her voice. “The mother’s life is beyond my skill to heal in time.” Her eyes moved to lock with the woman’s own, pained, brown orbs. “I can save your child, though.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the woman’s lips. “I knew I was right to follow the light.”
As Artemis focused on the unborn child, she raised an eyebrow at the woman. “Light?”
“I saw a light in the woods. I was running from a villain, and when I saw it I knew help was there.”
Considering their camp was supposed to be shielded from mortal eyes, the woman seeing either the light of their fire or, perhaps, the divine radiance of Artemis herself, meant she could see through the Mist. It was an increasingly common thing among mortals. Ever since the battle against Kronos and Typhon two centuries prior, the Mist’s beguiling influence had waned.
At first none could discern why, but it was eventually found that, due to the damage Olympus itself had suffered, more magic had been released and seeped into the very bones of the Earth. The first quirks appearing a few years later only reinforced that theory. The result was more mortals being able to see through the Mist, like in the ancient days.
A hiss of pain from the woman renewed Artemis’ focus. The woman had little time left, so she had to work quickly. It was an often forgotten power of hers, and an important part of her own birth, but she was also the goddess of childbirth and midwifery. By that authority, she willed the child, no more than six months into its growth, to mature. The mother screamed, her belly growing and stretching.
Then, a silver orb emerged through her taut skin. It floated from her to land in Artemis’ cradled arms. With a blinding flash that, for the briefest instant, turned the forest from night to day, the orb burst. In its place, the soft head and fragile neck supported with the elegance of millenia, appeared a damp, pink infant. A cry, full of fear, confusion, and need split the night air as the babe began to wail.
“Thalia, the cord., three fingers’ width long.”
At the goddess’ command, Thalia appeared at her side, a short knife in her hand. With one clean stroke, she cut the umbilical cord the specified distance from the infant’s belly.
Freed from the placenta, Artemis shuffled over to sit next to the woman’s head. Even paler than before, death already claiming her, the woman smiled.
“It’s a girl,” Artemis said softly.
“Thank you,” the woman’s voice was barely a whisper. “Please, keep her safe.” Her head fell back to face the sky. A sigh slipped past her lips, and she was gone.
Artemis stood, Thalia and the other Hunter following suit.
“Bring the others, see that she is properly buried.”
“Lady Artemis,” Thalia started hesitantly, “how will we care for a baby? None of us can feed it.”
“That won’t be a concern.”
A pale glow surrounded the goddess, and she grew in size and maturity from early teens to a more mature mid-20s. Gingerly holding the still crying baby in one arm, she unclasped one shoulder of her newly changed clothes to bare one breast. Guiding the baby to it, she willed her breasts to grow heavy with milk.
The babe latched on, and began to feed. It was not an unpleasant feeling. For a moment, it brought Artemis’ mind to how her aunt Demeter, or perhaps lustful Aphrodite, might feel with rearing a child, and the joy they found in it.
She continued to feed her new ward as she returned to the camp. The eyes of the Hunters widened as they saw their leader, one of the three virgin goddesses, nursing an infant. One of the eldest, at 16 with glossy black hair in a long braid, approached.
“Lady Artemis, what is going on?”
“I’ll explain later, Reyna. First, there is a brave mother that requires a burial. See to it that it is done.”
The Hunters, used to following her orders, moved without hesitation. The goddess herself resumed her seat by the fire after a brief visit to her tent, having fetched a soft length of cloth. Without disturbing the suckling, she swaddled the girl and cradled her in her arms again.
As she watched with tender affection, the ruddy brown fuzz of hair atop the infant’s head faded at the roots, replaced with a pure, shining silver. Its eyes, the same deep doe brown as her mother's, now shone with an inner moonlight. She knew something like that would happen. A few moments of nursing from Hera, together with his divine parentage, had given mighty Heracles most of the strength for which he was famed. Already Artemis had given more, and she had no intention of abandoning the girl to a cruel death.
At last, having drained the entire breast, the baby released, and fell immediately into a gentle slumber. Artemis retired to her tent, set about making a nest of furs and soft blankets, and laid the baby to bed. She joined it soon after, ending her first, unforeseen, night of motherhood.
So the days, weeks, and months passed. The baby grew quickly, having started at an acceptable but light weight. Where once a pure mortal, lacking even the magical signature of an nascent quirk, had laid, now divinity flowed through her.
Yumi, as Artemis named her in the language of the land they were in, would never be fully divine. Yet with every passing day fed by a goddess, she inevitably became less and less mortal. Her skin was as supple as a ripe peach, her hair grew soft as silk, and her eyes reflected the goddess’ own.
Never had Artemis styled herself as a mother. Although some of her Hunters looked at her as a motherly figure, she always saw herself as an elder sister, a guide for them. With Yumi, though, she felt a happiness that hadn’t existed before. She imagined a life beside the girl that was now her daughter by all but birth. But it could not be. Her duties called, and she had already passed on both a winter and summer solstice meeting of the gods, citing her frustration with Apollo as the reason for her absence.
A year passed, and the Hunters’ time in Japan had to end; they were needed elsewhere in the world. Yumi was still too young to make the journey with them, and a life of hunting monsters was something Artemis would not force on anyone, and so she searched for a suitable place to surrender her daughter. Orphanages were an institution as old as civilization, but not all were equal. She needed one that would treat Yumi well, would provide her daughter with opportunities for growth, and would accept a no-questions-asked surrender. Yet it could not be in too immediate of danger, either. Though they were far from the seat of the gods’ power, the monster population was not very high. There were pockets of activity, however, so those had to be accounted for.
She found such a place in a city called Musutafu. It was a large city, the sort of place Artemis herself would only rarely visit, but none of the more rural orphanages were suitable. It had a multitude of rich parks, it bordered a nature preserve on its inland face, and it was watched over by one of the greatest institutions the mortals had made. The orphanage itself was nothing elaborate, a modest building past its prime yet well tended.
So it was that, in the fading twilight hours of an autumn day, that she knocked on the door of the Willow Grove Orphanage. Yumi was restless in her arms, perhaps sensing her mother’s well-concealed distress at their impending separation.
The door opened, light from inside spilling out alongside the sounds of children playing. Peering from it was a middle-aged woman, perhaps fifty years old, her blue hair showing flecks of gray.
“Can I help you?” She asked.
“I’m afraid you can,” Artemis responded in fluent Japanese. “I cannot care for my daughter any longer and I wish her to be cared for here.”
Aqua eyes darted down to the swaddled bundle and back. “Trouble at home?”
“Something like that.”
Sympathy painted the woman’s face. “Oh you poor thing. You’re too young to have these sorts of problems. We’ve got the space, don’t worry.” She held out her arms, and Artemis placed Yumi into them. “What’s her name?”
“Yumi, using the kanji for bow and treasure.”
A pudgy hand reached up to the woman’s hair. “A beautiful name. No surname?”
“None that I would wish she bear.”
“Alright, I’ll come up with something then.” She paused. “Do you need another minute, or…?”
Leaving glistening trails in their wake, tears ran down the goddess’ cheeks as her stoic facade broke. “May I hold her one last time?”
Wordlessly, Yumi was passed back to her mother’s arms. Fat, wet drops stained the blanket as the baby was drawn close. Artemis tried her best to imprint the girl on her memory.
Yumi had grown strong, and she would only grow stronger with age and experience. Her hair and eyes were now a radiant silver in full and they shone with the light of the stars in the night air.
After a silent minute, Artemis shifted her to one arm and reached into a pocket with the other.
From it, she withdrew a silver chain. On it hung a pendant, brilliant in the waxing moonlight. One side bore a bronze crescent moon, the other a silver bow with an arrow nocked on its string, forming a complete circle with the arrow tip pointed up and to the right. Gently, as if the slightest mistake would shatter both pendant and child, Artemis hung the chain around the tiny girl’s neck. It sat large on her, both chain and pendant leaving room for her to grow into them.
“I have to leave you here,” she said in a quavering voice, “but I leave this, my gift, with you. It will keep you from harm, and, if one day you wish for it, I will find you.” She switched to ancient Greek and said, “Always will I walk with you, my little Moonbeam.”
While her courage held, Artemis passed her first daughter to the waiting woman, and took a step back. Then, tears running down her face and splattering on the ground below, she turned and walked into the growing night.
♦♦♦
A thick slap echoed off the bare classroom walls, knocking a chip of paint from the window frame and sending the bird on its outer edge to flight. Its source, a wrinkle covered hand attached to an older woman that looked like she’d stepped right out of a children’s fairy tale as the evil witch. Her victim stared down at the paper now on her desk, 20 emblazoned on it in fat red ink.
“Another failing grade. You keep this up, Yanagi, and you’ll be repeating the year.”
Yanagi Yumi looked up at her Japanese literature teacher incredulously. “I’ve told you before, Katayama-sensei, I have dyslexia and I need more time for exams.”
“And I’ve told you, young lady, that I don’t have time for made up diseases! If you can’t do it like everyone else, then you’re just not applying yourself enough!”
Yumi bit back another retort and blew a lock of fine silver hair out of her face. Her diagnosis was real, the crotchety old bat simply refused to comply with the accommodations her doctor had ordered. She didn’t do it for any of the other students, either, but Yumi was her second favorite ‘example’ of an undisciplined child.
The favorite sat directly in front of her, his mop of curly green-black hair a familiar sight after their five years together between Aldera Middle and High Schools. Midoriya Izuku was also the only friend Yumi had in the school. He’d seemed plain at first, green hair and eyes with diamond pattern freckles underneath, not particularly athletic, and rather anti-social. In that time, however, she’d learned to look past his withdrawn, beaten down personality to find the boy who loved heroes and quirks. She had also developed a bit of a crush on the boy, something that had taken her months to figure out and caused her no end of embarrassment at home. When exactly her feelings of friendship had turned romantic, Yumi didn’t know, but they had become an incessant bonfire burning in her chest.
By association with Izuku, though, Yumi was subjected to a lot of the same passive bullying the boy was. It never got physical, unlike what Izuku had to endure, mostly being ostracized from the other girls, mean notes, and a lot of insults. For poor Izuku it was far worse, and the main perpetrator was-
“Oi, Deku!”
The room shook again, this time from the stifled explosion on Izuku’s desk. The greenette jolted in his seat, and Yumi didn’t need to be able to see his face to know he had a wobbly smile with fear in his eyes.
“H-hey Kacchan. Wh-what do you need?” he stuttered.
Bakugou Katsuki, his two goons behind him, stared down with a burning fire in his eyes.
“I need you to learn your fucking place! You still want to be a hero, you useless nerd!”
“Saying you’re going to UA even now, how pathetic,” goon #1, the one who could extend his fingers, jabbed.
“Listen here, Deku. I’m gonna be the only one from this shitty school to make it to UA. Me! I’m the future Number One, and you’re nothing but a pebble in the road! And this,” Bakugou snatched the notebook off of Izuku’s desk and placed it between his palms, “will never make you a hero!”
Another explosion rattled the windows, and the noxious smell of burnt paper and ink filled the room. Izuku’s posture fell. Then Bakugou rubbed salt in the wound.
“Maybe you should take a swan dive off the roof. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a quirk in your next life.”
Yumi’s blood boiled. “That’s going too far, Bakugou!” she shouted.
“And why should I give a fuck what you think, extra?” he sneered right back. “You might actually have a quirk, something this useless Deku never will, but you’re hardly any better. What good is being a little bit stronger than average and knowing what animals feel!?”
It was a rhetorical question, and any answer Yumi gave would only infuriate her explosive classmate further. So she bit her tongue and wordlessly caught the ruined notebook that was snap-tossed at her face. Bakugou and his pair of goons left the room, cackling as they went. Taking a glance forward at Izuku, her heart tore at the devastated expression he wore.
Noticing her gaze, Izuku gave Yumi a smile. She could tell it was a hollow one.
♦♦♦
“Is there any of it that can be saved?”
“Y-yeah, most of it can. Kacchan d-didn’t really put h-his all into that one.”
A groan heavy with emotion whispered past Yumi’s lips. “I still don’t understand why the school lets him get away with it. So he can blow stuff up, so can anybody with the things in the chemistry lab!”
Izuku glanced at her. “H-he’ll be a great hero one day, I-I know it.”-
“He should be in jail.” An innocent rock was sent clattering by a lazy kick to land under a dim overpass. “I wish you’d stop calling him ‘Kacchan’, he doesn’t deserve a nickname.”
Izuku’s features darkened as they passed into the shadowed space. “H-he’s my friend. He has some a-anger issues, b-but I know he’s g-gonna do great things.”
Yumi dashed ahead to stop in front of her crush, the afternoon sun falling behind her. He looked so tired, so done with everything that she had to fight back the instinct to pull him into a hug.
“Izuku, he hasn’t been your friend since you were five! No friend beats you up for daring to have a dream. No friend would use ‘useless’ as a nickname. No friend would suicide bait you. He’s nothing but a bully, no, a villain, and he should pay for what he’s done!”
She truly took in her friend, her crush. His eyes that had lost the light she loved weeks ago. His face that hadn’t shown a true smile for months. A wave of desperate courage surged through Yumi’s heart.
“Hey, Izuku, there’s something I’d like to-”
Motion behind Izuku cut her off. The manhole cover they’d just crossed shifted aside. From the slight gap emerged an undulating, amorphous mass, which slid its path closed behind it.
“Two medium-sized skinsuits,” a slimy, sewage-sounding voice came from the blob as two red eyes gleamed in a sickly yellow background. “Perfect, now just hold still.”
Izuku hardly had the time to turn to the new voice, nor did Yumi have time to shout, before the pile of living sludge shot forward. It engulfed Izuku, smothering the girl’s best friend in the most disgusting jello ever.
“Izuku!”
Her legs moved before Yumi could think. She charged the slime and began tearing at its surface, the texture and stench nothing against the drive to save her friend. Globs of ooze came away with every swipe, but the gaps filled just as fast as she could make them. While her quirk made her the second strongest in class, at least in terms of physical strength, it was doing nothing against a wall of living ooze. All the while, Izuku flailed around in the center, his hands grasping at his mouth and throat.
“Come on kid, just let me take him! 30 seconds and he won’t feel a thing anymore!”
Yumi dug harder, faster, whole handfuls of slime spattering the walls. It still wasn’t enough.
A bang echoed through the tunnel as the manhole cover shot up and wedged in the ceiling. From its depths shot a form only the most reclusive of hermits would be unfamiliar with.
“Fear not, for I am here!” All Might roared.
The Number One Hero threw a mighty fist forward. The sludge between Yumi and Izuku parted, a gale tearing the disgusting mass off her friend.
“All… Might…?”
Those faint words out of his mouth, Izuku promptly collapsed unconscious.
“Izuku!”
Yumi caught Izuku before he could hit the ground, letting his weight down gently. Her heart pounded as she desperately checked for his pulse. Feeling it strong and slow beneath her finger, she pulled her crush close. Around her, All Might was a blur, scooping up the villain and shoving him none too gently into a two liter soda bottle he got from somewhere.
A short minute later, Izuku stirred, his emerald eyes fluttering open. They first looked up to lock onto Yumi’s own. Relief flooded her as she gave him a soft smile. Part of her wanted to lean down and kiss him, but her rational side knew it was hardly the time for a confession anymore.
Then Izuku looked to the side. He blinked once, twice, three times, before his eyebrows shot up along with the rest of him.
“A-A-A-All Might!?” he squeaked, his voice squeaking into falsetto.
“You’re okay. Excellent!” All Might boomed. “Apologies for getting you both involved in my little villain hunt. Mistakes like that aren’t my style, but my success here is all thanks to you!” He brandished the filled bottle like it was a trophy in a video game, his trademark smile blindingly bright. “I also already signed that notebook there for you.”
Izuku flipped through the charred and ruined pages until he arrived at a full spread of the Number One’s autograph. Yumi whistled, a hint of jealousy in the back of her mind.
“Lucky you, Izuku.”
“Thank you so much!” Izuku shot up and bowed 90-degrees at his waist. “It’ll be my family heirloom!”
All Might laughed, “I must bring this rapscallion to the authorities! You two can catch me again on TV!”
The pro hero crouched, tension visibly building in his tree trunk legs. A blur of black shot past Yumi to latch onto the man just as he launched into the sky. By the dust cleared, Yumi found herself alone. Her heart sank for an instant, before it was overcome with affectionate frustration.
“Damn it, Izuku, you just had to do it.”
With Izuku having abruptly left with All Might, something she was certain the pro could handle, Yumi resumed her walk home. Izuku’s apartment was on the way, which is why they tended to walk together. Their talks during those times were honestly some of her favorite memories, at least the times they weren’t ruined by Bakugou showing up to harass them outside of school.
A hand raised to clench at her sailor uniform top, above her left breast. The other kids at the orphanage, and especially Machiko, had been urging her to confess. Yumi never felt like it was the right time, though. Izuku always had something going on, either chasing down a fight to take notes, hiding from his bullies, or failing to hide from his bullies. Just when she thought she had the perfect moment, they got attacked by a villain!
An explosion dragged Yumi out of her thoughts. It had come from directly ahead, down in a pedestrian-only shopping lane. Smoke billowed from banners and displays that burned with dancing orange flames. Towering above the gathering crowd was the newly debuted heroine Mt. Lady, her giant size working against her with such a confined space.
Down on ground level, people were being pulled from the buildings by wooden tendrils, courtesy of the similarly new Kamui Woods. Backdraft was firing water at the fires, but they were spreading faster than the rescue hero could extinguish them. And finally, standing around doing nothing, was Death Arms.
Another explosion split the air, and this time it sounded familiar. Yumi rushed to the back of the crowd, part of her wishing Izuku was here to watch another fight, another part wanting him to not rush into danger as much as he did.
Through the press of bodies she wiggled, using the subtle increase in strength her quirk offered her to her advantage. Finally, peering under Death Arms’ outstretched arm, she got her first good look into the street.
A familiar greenish-yellow mound of slime was roiling in the street, its surface bulging and contracting sporadically. Its sickly yellow eyes rolled around, a maw filled with grayish brown teeth opened and closed, and on occasion a flash of its newest victim appeared on its surface. But how could that be? Yumi had watched All Might capture it. Then the pro had-
Yumi’s silver eyes shot open wide. Izuku. All Might had put the bottle containing the villain in a hip pocket, on the same leg Izuku had latched onto when All Might launched himself. But if the villain was here, where were Izuku and All Might?
The ear-splitting crack of an explosion rocked her, and, amidst the sludge, appeared a face Yumi was more than familiar with. Ash blonde hair, a feral snarl on this face, and burning coals for eyes, it was Bakugou. She couldn’t help but gasp and cover her mouth with both hands. She held Bakugou in the absolute lowest esteem, but suffocation by that disgusting villain while the other heroes watched was a fate she wouldn’t wish on even him.
The teen’s eyes, those eyes Yumi hated, locked onto her and she froze. Deep in those points of red, past the anger, was something she’d never seen in Bakugou before. Fear.
“Hey, kid come back!”
Legs pounding beneath her before she knew it, Yumi broke forward. Death Arms massive hand reached for her and missed. Her skirt fluttered in the wind of her dash, and in her mind was one thought.
‘I have to save him!’
For the second time that day, her hands dug and scraped, sending slime flying. All in an effort to reach the person she hated most.
But Izuku still cared.
Finally, through sheer luck, she cleared Bakugou’s face enough to breathe. He took a coughing gasp, then his eyes turned on her.
“What the fuck are you doing here, extra!”
The words came unbidden to her. “You looked like you needed saving, and Izuku would be sad if you died!”
“Stop getting in my way, you bitch!” the living sludge shrieked.
“Detroit smash!”
Yumi felt her arm nearly yanked out of its socket as a tempest roared to life around her. Her body flailed around, crashing into Bakugou’s who was in an identical situation next to her.
Then, it was over. The winds died and a sudden rain began to fall on them. Blinking to clear her swirling vision, Yumi saw her arm, and one of Bakugou’s, clenched in the massive grip of All Might. The sludge villain, meanwhile, had borne the full force of the attack, and was once again a scattered mess on the walls, floor, and any awnings that had escaped the fire.
Around them, the crowd cheered for All Might saving her and Bakugou while simultaneously defeating the villain and extinguishing the first. Yumi found herself pulled aside to be grilled by the heroes, while praise was heaped on Bakugou like it was going out of style.
Finally she escaped their lectures and the swarm of hero reporters to continue her journey home. She’d tried to get to All Might, to ask about Izuku, but he had been surrounded by too many reporters to try.
So it was that when the pro darted out of a side street in a ridiculous posture, Yumi couldn’t help but let out a little squeak of surprise.
“All Might? Why are you here? What about the reporters?” she asked, regaining her poise.
“Shaking them off is nothing to me! After all, I’m All Mi-”
The man’s words were abruptly cut off by blood fountaining out of his mouth. An explosion of steam hid his form for a moment, but the afternoon breeze quickly blew it away. Where once stood the Symbol of Peace, the muscled wall of stability that had defended Japan for forty years, now stood a man better described as a stick. His white t-shirt and tan cargo pants hung so loose on him they were more like uninflated balloons.
Yumi did the only reasonable thing for a lone teenage girl confronted by a strange man in such a situation. She screamed.
“Kyaaaaaaaaaaa!”
“Calm down, young lady. I know how this looks, and I already explained it to your boyfriend, but I am All Might. Two people in one day, I’m really losing my touch.”
Out of air, Yumi could only blush at Izuku being called her boyfriend. Not wanting to touch that subject, she nodded, signaling her willingness to listen. The emaciated man lifted the left side of his shirt. Yumi winced and took a step back at what she saw.
A gnarled mess of tissue, painted in purples and reds, sat just below his ribs on the left side. He looked down at it and let out a resigned sigh.
“I got this injury five years ago. My respiratory system was nearly destroyed and my stomach had to be removed. The after-effects of all those surgeries is what’s caused me to waste away and I can only do hero work for three hours a day now.”
The depth of All Might’s condition rocked Yumi. “Izuku had mentioned something about you appearing in public less and less over the last few years. I guess this explains that.”
“Your boyfriend said something similar. He’s a sharp one.”
Heat rushed up Yumi’s face. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she mumbled, very much aware of her desire for it to be otherwise.
All Might’s shadowed electric blue eyes blinked a few times. “My apologies, you two seemed close so I assumed…” He cleared his throat, “Ahem, back there, you helped me overcome my limit, young?”
“Yumi. Yanagi Yumi, sir.”
“Young Yanagi, you helped this old man in ways you can’t understand today, and I would like to make you an offer. I was watching you back there, I saw how desperately you fought to save that young man, despite any risk to yourself. Using no power of your own, you moved before you could even think, didn’t you?” At her nod, he continued, “That’s something all the great heroes have in common. Early in their lives or careers, their bodies moved before they could think. And that’s why I believe you’re worthy of inheriting my power!”
Like the cat that lived at the orphanage, Yumi tilted her head in confusion. “Inheriting your power? What does that even mean?”
All Might laughed. Not the deep, echoing laugh he was famous for, but something softer, the laugh of an old man who found something genuinely funny. An inviting smile spread across his hollow features.
“The tabloids love to speculate about my quirk, but they all couldn’t be further from the truth. All because All Might, the ‘Symbol of Peace’, has to come off as a natural born hero. But like the Olympic torch, my quirk has been passed down to me! And now it may be your turn. I have the ability to transfer power. That’s the quirk I inherited. It is called One for All. One person cultivates the power and then passes it on to another. So, young Yanagi, what do you say?”
What could she say? With so much new information at once, Yumi had a headache trying to keep up. Izuku would have managed, he was quite the quirk and hero fanatic and regularly corrected quiz shows they watched together. Yumi, meanwhile, was decidedly not. Her thoughts were racing, her ADHD leading her to jump from possibility to possibility.
“I… I’m honored, sir, really I am.” She said at last before meeting All Might’s unyielding gaze. “But I don’t want to be a hero. I never have.”
That seemed to throw All Might off. He blinked down at her, the hand he had so dramatically held out slowly withdrawing. For an instant, Yumi feared she’d made the wrong choice, even though her heart said otherwise.
“I see. Well, that throws a monkey wrench in things. I’ve been searching for a successor for a while, and I thought I had finally found one in you. Most kids your age think about becoming heroes first and foremost, so you not being interested hadn’t even crossed my mind. I apologize for being so presumptive, and I hope I can trust you to keep my secrets to yourself?”
“Of course I will!” Yumi nodded emphatically before her face dropped. “Although, maybe you should consider giving your quirk to a quirkless person? Izuku, my friend you saved before, really wants to be a hero. It’s all he’s ever wanted, but he didn’t get either of his parents’ quirks, nor any quirk at all.” A thought struck her. “Actually, where is Izuku? The last time I saw him he was with you.”
“Oh, he found out about my injury when my time ran out. I explained my injury to him, then I left him on that rooftop.”
A sinking feeling settled into Yumi’s stomach at that revelation. “You left him… on a roof? I know he had questions to ask you if you ever met, so what happened up there?”
All Might rubbed his head sheepishly. “He asked me if he could be a hero without a quirk. I, um, told him it was unreasonable, that if he wanted to serve the people he should look into something like becoming a police officer instead.”
Dread washed over the girl at the same time as rage filled her heart. “You told him no? You have a quirk you can give to other people, and you still told him no!? Izuku is the most selfless, driven, heroic guy on the planet, and being a hero is all he’s ever dreamed about! He looks up to you, emulates your compassion, goes at everything with a smile just like you, and you just broke whatever image of you he had!”
The teenager stepped into All Might’s space, a cold wind biting through her clothes. “Did you know that he’s been bullied his entire life for not having a quirk? For something completely out of his control? Well he has! Even after giving up on having a quirk, he never gave up his dream, no matter how much he was bullied. Just today he was told to-” The dread crystallized into a horrifying possibility. “Where did you leave him?”
“I told you, on a-”
“What building!?” she interrupted, something she never imagined herself doing to All Might of all people. “What’s the address!?”
He told her. It wasn’t far from where they’d parted.
Forgoing any formalities, Yumi turned back and bolted. Her legs moved until they burned and she was gasping for air, but she dared not stop. All the while, images of her crush danced in her mind. His awkward smiles, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he was happy, the four freckles on each cheek making cute little diamonds, the way he inhaled katsudon. How for the past few months he had days where he just didn’t respond. How that had been one of those days.
Tears began running down Yumi’s face before being whipped away by the wind. She prayed to whatever gods were listening that her fear wasn’t true. She swore that, if she was in time, she’d tell him her feelings.
At last, her destination appeared around a corner, and Yumi stumbled to a stop.
Around the base of the tallest building on the block were half a dozen police cars and an ambulance, their lights painting the otherwise dull concrete in reds and blues.
A shuddering breath escaped burning lungs and silver eyes widened to saucers.
‘No. No no no no!’
Her exhaustion ignored, Yumi sprinted the remaining distance. An officer, seeing her approach, caught her before she reached the gap between buildings.
“Whoa there. I’m afraid you can’t come this way, miss. You wouldn’t want to see what’s in there, anyway.”
“Please!” she screamed, her voice hoarse from her manic sprint. “Is he okay!? Is Izuku okay!?”
The officer’s face became a solemn mask just as a gurney emerged behind him. Yumi’s heart nearly stopped when she saw the glossy edge of a black bag beneath a crisp white sheet.
“I take it you knew him?”
“He’s…. He’s my best friend. Is he…” Yumi trailed off, unable to finish that thought.
“Nobody survives a fall like that. I’m sorry.”
Like an egg under a sledgehammer, Yumi’s heart broke. She fell to her knees and wailed, fat tears resuming their flow down her already stained cheeks. She sobbed, and screamed, and begged for it to be a lie, all because the truth hurt more than any possible alternative.
Izuku had jumped. After having his dream crushed by All Might, the person he respected more than any other, he had taken Bakugou’s advice, and jumped. Her words, her feelings, had failed to hold back the despair she’d seen in his eyes.
She didn’t know how long she was there, but by the time her tears finally stopped, a gentle rain had begun to fall. Her eyes burning and nose running, Yumi gazed at the gray clouds, wondering why the weather had chosen to match her mood so perfectly.
A weight settled gently on her shoulder. Her grief momentarily spent, another emotion welled up deep inside Yumi’s ruined heart as she saw its owner..
Anger.
No, more than anger. Anger was Bakugou, wild, undirected. This feeling had a purpose, a reason with two goals to achieve. The first of which was now standing above her.
“I’m sorry, young Yanagi,” All Might, still in his gaunt form, said softly. “I didn’t intend to-”
“It doesn’t matter what you intended,” Yumi said coldly as she brushed his hand off. She stood up, her legs quivering and protesting their every movement. “All that matters is he’s gone, and you’re the one who pushed him over the edge. Not with your hands, but with your words. Words matter, words hurt, words can kill. And yours killed him!”
Her voice had risen to a screech, cracking and wobbling but full of hatred. All of it directed at the man she faced. Above her, the deep, earth-shaking rumble of thunder rolled through the city, while around them the rain slowed to a gentle mist.
A resounding smack echoed off the concrete walls. Yumi clenched her hand to her breast as she stared at the now-red cheek of All Might, her lips drawing into a snarl.
“I will never forgive you for what you did to Izuku. As long as I live, I will hate you. I will be a hero. Not for you, but for Izuku, for everyone else that’s been told no just because they were powerless. You can keep your sacred torch, I don’t want anything of yours near me. If I ever see you again, it’ll be too soon.”
Her piece said, and not wanting to hear any excuse he might make, Yumi shoved her way past All Might. She wiped her face on her sleeve, making a mental note to wash it when she got home. Her hand moved to cradle her bow and crescent moon pendant, the only thing she had from her mother besides her name. It was an icy weight in her hand, yet it always seemed to give her comfort and strength in difficult times.
She needed reassurance then more than ever.