Chapter Text
“They thought it was more creepy than helpful.” The words left Izuku’s mouth with a bitterness that surprised even him, his voice carrying an edge that hadn’t been there before. His already slouched posture seemed to fold inward even more, as if he were trying to make himself smaller, to take up even less space in a world that had rejected him. He gripped his drink tighter, the plastic cup bending slightly in his hand.
“This was supposed to help them,” he said, his voice cracking slightly but carrying a sharper edge, his hand, still held in hers softly motioned to the book before him. “I just wanted to be useful,” he continued, each word tinged with a frustration that had been brewing for years. “To them—kids I looked up to, people I thought could be heroes. They didn’t even have to try; they were just... naturals.” He let out a humorless laugh, the sound hollow and bitter, as if mocking himself for ever thinking he could be one of them.
Mina’s shoulders slumped at his words, the weight of his raw emotion pulling at her heart like a cold draft. The bright warmth that had once filled the café seemed to fade, replaced by the heavy, somber air of their conversation. She could feel it—the anger simmering just beneath his sadness, the frustration from years of trying to fit in and being pushed away. It was a side of Izuku she hadn’t anticipated, raw and painfully, honestly resentful. If she was truthful with herself, she’d never imagined that kind of emotion from the gentle, green-haired boy. It was clear there was so much more to him than she had ever realized.
Izuku’s gaze dropped to the table once more, his fingers toying with the edge of the cup. “I just thought... if I could understand quirks, if I could help them see what they were capable of, maybe they’d see me as... as more than just the quirkless kid.” His voice trembled, the bitterness, the resentment, giving way to something softer, something that hurt even more. “But all they saw was someone who was weird. A stalker. Someone who didn’t belong. Someone who didn’t have a place when they played at being heroes, someone not even worthy to talk to.”
Mina’s eyes shimmered, the weight of his words pressing heavily on her chest. Her gaze drifted to his notebook, filled with neatly scrawled handwriting. She could see the effort he poured into just the two pages laid open in front of her—detailed observations and meticulous notes. And there were 17 more books like this? Even the one in front of them was already more than halfway full. Though she couldn’t truly know how much time he’d spent understanding quirks, she could guess it was far more than most kids would ever devote to anything. It wasn’t just about becoming a hero; it was about helping others become the best versions of themselves. A soft pang tightened in her chest as she thought about it—16 whole books of notes, each one aimed at understanding and helping anyone he thought he could support, no matter how small. They had dismissed him, disliked him for reasons she couldn't understand, when it had never been about him alone. It had always been about them—about offering a helping hand and finding a way to matter to those around him.
She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “They were wrong, Izu. You know that, right?” Her own emotions bled into her words; there was so much she wanted to say, so much she wished she could do to make him see that all his effort had value. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but a strange fear rooted her in place—fear that she might say the wrong thing, that she wouldn’t be enough. They had only known each other for a few days, after all. She knew she couldn’t heal his wounds overnight, couldn’t erase the years of pain he’d carried. It might take years—countless hours of listening to his worries, of holding his hand while he vented what had been bottled up inside.
But as she tightened her grip around his cold hand—feeling the strange contrast of the soft yet rugged texture of his black chitinous fingers—she felt her heart settle. She had faced her own struggles, dealt with bad people and moments of doubt, but her family and the small circle of friends she’d built over the years had helped her through. She wanted to be that for him now—a constant presence, a safe harbor in the storm of his thoughts.
Izuku let out a slow breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring as the frustration drained away, leaving his posture slumped and his gaze distant, locked onto a memory only he could see. “I don’t know,” he said softly, his voice edged with a quiet melancholy, but beneath it was a hollow weariness that seemed to seep into every word. “I don’t know if they were wrong. They were just... kids, like me. Maybe I was weird.” A bitter, self-deprecating laugh slipped from his lips. “Maybe I tried too hard, and it freaked them out.”
His eyes shimmered like polished emeralds, catching the light, reflecting the unshed tears he was fighting to keep at bay.
“No.” Mina’s voice was firm, cutting through the weight of his despair. The single word drew Izuku’s glimmering eyes to hers, the fog that clouded them seeming to recede as they met her steady gaze. She refused to let him slip back into the darkness he had fought so hard to escape. “No, Izuku, they were wrong.” Her voice wavered, caught for a moment by the raw vulnerability in his eyes, but she pushed forward, her resolve hardening with each word. She tightened her grip on his hand, a gentle but determined smile forming on her lips as she locked her fingers around his—a promise, a lifeline.
“You cared so much, and they... they just couldn’t see it. But I do. I see you, Izu.”
Izuku’s eyes widened at the passion in her voice. He could feel her grip tighten, the softness of her fingers intertwining with his in a way no one ever had before. The warmth of her hand seeped into him, absorbed by his quirk, yet it lingered—a warmth that softened his emotions, even if only a little. It was a lifeline, a gentle heat drawing him out of the shadows he had buried himself in for so long. A small part of him peeked out from that darkness, pulled toward her beautiful golden eyes. The café—the scents of coffee and mint, the golden sunlight streaming through the window—felt more real than it ever had before, grounded by the sincerity in her gaze.
“They didn’t want my help,” he said, his voice more fragile now, the bitterness cracking around the edges. “They thought I was just... some annoying, quirk-obsessed kid.” He gave a short, hollow laugh, but it lacked the venom it had before. “Maybe I was. Maybe I was too much.” He shook his head, looking down. “No, I was a quirk-obsessed kid. I’d walk the playground with my notebook, writing about the other kids, and when they asked me to stop, I would... but I never thought to ask if I could study their quirks.”
Mina’s grip on his hand tightened, her brows knitting together with fierce determination. “I wouldn’t have minded.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no room for doubt. Her eyes were bright, unwavering, as if daring him to disagree. “If you had come up to me and studied my quirk, if you’d given me notes on your observations, I would’ve been ecstatic.” She giggled softly, her voice like a light breeze breaking through the gloom. “You were a passionate kid, and that’s not something you should ever be ashamed of. The people who couldn’t see that—they didn’t deserve what you tried to do.”
Her words, so earnest and genuine, hit him like a wave. He didn’t trust himself to speak without breaking, so he just stared at her, letting the warmth in her eyes soothe the ache in his chest. Slowly, a deep lilac purple began to bloom on her cheeks, and her steady gaze wavered as she glanced down at their hands, then back at her drink, before finally meeting his eyes again. “I… uh…” she stammered, the color deepening. “We… We’ve been staring at each other for… for quite a bit…”
Izuku’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, the first he’d given in a long time. “And… is that a problem?” His voice came out teasing, which startled them both. Mina burst into laughter, and Izuku found himself laughing along with her, the tension between them dissolving in a wave of giggles.
When they finally calmed down, hands still locked together, the silence that settled was different—softer, more comfortable. It wasn’t heavy with regret or pain but instead carried a sense of something new, a warmth that made their faces flush. It was a silence that didn’t need to be filled, a space that allowed the weight of what had been said to linger gently. Izuku’s fingers relaxed around his cup, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding—a shaky, trembling exhale that felt like letting go of a burden he’d carried for far too long.
Mina leaned in closer, her thumb gently tracing circles over the back of his hand. As their eyes met, there was a fierceness in her gaze now, tempered by a tenderness that softened her words. “I want you to study my quirk one day,” she said softly, her voice both teasing and sincere. “I expect at least a page on my awesome skills and quirk!” Her playful giggle rang through the café, and Izuku nodded, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.
Still caught in the moment, Mina snatched his drink and took a sip, her face twisting in horror. “That’s so minty!” she whined, setting the cup back in front of him with a dramatic shudder, before taking a long sip from her own drink to wash the taste away. Izuku chuckled at her reaction, still processing the fact that someone—she—wanted him to study her quirk. It was surreal.
He couldn’t believe it. He’d shared more of himself with her than he ever had with anyone, and she hadn’t flinched. She smiled at him, even laughed with him. His heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing hot as the realization settled in: she saw him. A small part, sure—but she saw him, and she didn’t turn away. His hunched shoulders slowly relaxed, and he nodded, a soft, almost shy agreement that held a world of unspoken meaning. He wasn’t alone anymore.
The café seemed brighter, the sunlight warmer as it poured over their table, casting soft shadows across the wood. Mina leaned even closer, her forehead nearly brushing his, her voice a whisper just for him. “I'm here for you, I-zu-ku~,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. “No matter what.”
Izuku’s smile widened just a fraction, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tightness in his chest loosened, replaced by a warmth he thought he’d forgotten how to feel. With her hand in his, the weight of his past seemed just a little lighter. He took a sip of his drink, savoring the mint on his tongue before speaking. “So… anything else planned for today?” he asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful. “It’s… still pretty early, and most places are still open.”
Mina’s eyes sparkled, a playful glint returning as she tapped her chin in exaggerated thought. “Hmm… well, let’s see…”
She swayed slightly, a playful energy building in her movements. Her eyes brightened suddenly. “Well, how about we just wander around this part of town?” she suggested, a glint appearing in her gaze. “Isn't that dojo nearby? The Nail Masters’ Dojo?~” Her voice came out with a teasing lilt, almost a purr, sending a shiver down Izuku’s spine.
“I... uh. Yeah, it’s not too far,” he replied, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “It’s walking distance, at least... But I think they’re closed today.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through notifications to confirm. “Oh, yeah, they are closed. Something about a big meeting they’re all attending. They sent out a notice about an hour ago,” he mumbled, sounding distracted.
His mind drifted back to the news report he’d seen on the café’s TV only moments before. A dark, shadowy forest, the words ‘Twelve elementary school students missing, hero investigations of the local forests underway’ scrolling across the bottom of the screen. He hesitated, shaking his head as if to dispel the unease gnawing at him. It had to be a coincidence, right? The Nail Masters were better suited for urban environments—places where their skills thrived in tight alleys and structured spaces. Dense forests, with their twisting trees and narrow clearings, would make using their techniques difficult. It didn’t make sense for them to be involved in anything out there.
Mina leaned forward, noticing the change in his expression, her brow furrowing slightly in concern. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, her teasing tone softened with a note of worry. “You kind of spaced out there.”
Izuku blinked and gave her a quick smile, trying to push away the uncomfortable feeling that had settled in his chest. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just got lost in thought for a second,” he said, his voice steady, though the worry still lingered at the edges of his mind.
Mina didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go, squeezing his hand lightly before letting it slip away. “Alright then,” she said with a soft smile, though her eyes remained searching, clearly not fully buying his quick deflection. “Let’s just enjoy the day, okay? It’s not every day I get to hang out with a cutie like you.”
Izuku’s smile widened, but his face flushed a deep crimson at her teasing compliment, and he immediately looked anywhere but at her, feeling his cheeks grow even hotter. The warmth of her hand lingered on his palm, and he had to remind himself to breathe. “Y-Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Let’s just… enjoy the day.” His voice wavered slightly, the knot of unease in his stomach loosening a little at her words.
As they stood up to leave, the café door swung open, and a rush of fresh air swept in, mingling with the lingering scent of coffee and mint. Izuku’s shoulders relaxed as he followed Mina out, his resolve hardening to focus on the here and now, even as a faint echo of worry tugged at the edges of his mind.
Stepping into the bustling street, the noise of the city washed over them—laughter, chatter, the distant hum of traffic. Izuku’s gaze darted upward, taking in the towering buildings that loomed above, a familiar itch rising in his legs. For a brief moment, he considered it—leaping onto the rooftops, disappearing into the city’s labyrinthine skyline like he was used to doing. His fingers flexed instinctively, but then he caught sight of Mina, walking confidently beside him, and stopped himself. He wasn’t alone right now; he was with her, and he didn’t want to leave her behind.
Mina noticed his hesitation, tilting her head curiously. “Something wrong, Izu?” she asked, her voice light and teasing, yet with a note of genuine curiosity underneath.
He blinked, a little surprised she’d noticed, and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah, no, I just... I’m not used to, um, walking around the streets like this. I guess I’m more comfortable up there,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the rooftops above them. “It’s... quieter.”
Mina’s eyes widened with interest, and she nudged him playfully. “Well, don’t go running off on me just yet, rooftop ninja. I’m not as good at parkour as you are!” she laughed, her voice bubbling with warmth. “Besides, I like having you down here with me. It’s more... cozy.”
Izuku’s blush deepened, and he nodded quickly. “I-I wasn’t going to leave!” he said hastily. “Just... force of habit, I guess.”
They walked side by side, Mina’s presence grounding him, making the bustling crowd feel a little less overwhelming. Izuku noticed how she occasionally bumped into him lightly with her shoulder, almost like a playful reassurance that she was there. Every time it happened, his heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t help but glance at her, taking in the way the sunlight danced in her golden eyes.
Mina glanced back and caught his gaze, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “So, where should we go first?” she asked, tugging lightly at his sleeve. “We’ve got the whole day ahead of us! There’s that cute street market nearby, or maybe we could check out that bookstore down the block? I hear they have some rare hero books you might like!”
Izuku’s eyes lit up at the mention of hero books, the familiar excitement bubbling up in his chest. “Books?” he asked, unable to hide his enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’d love that! There might be some I haven’t read yet...” His words trailed off, a boyish excitement replacing the heaviness that had been clinging to him.
“Then it’s settled!” Mina said cheerfully, her eyes bright with shared excitement. She grabbed his hand again without hesitation, pulling him along down the bustling street. Her energy was infectious, and Izuku found himself laughing despite himself, the earlier tension fading like mist under the sun.
They wandered together, chatting about everything and nothing—about quirks, about hero gossip, about favorite snacks and weird dreams. It felt light and easy, and for the first time in a long while, Izuku felt like he could just be himself without holding back.
When they reached the small street market, stalls brimming with colorful trinkets and fresh food lined the narrow alleyways. The scent of spices, fresh bread, and sweet fruit filled the air. Mina darted from stall to stall, her eyes wide with wonder, and Izuku couldn’t help but smile as he followed her lead, finding himself more and more drawn into her contagious excitement.
At one point, Mina stopped at a jewelry stand, picking up a simple silver bracelet that caught the sunlight, her fingers turning it over as a curious glint sparked in her eyes. “Hey, Izu,” she said suddenly, turning to him with a playful smile. “If you were to buy a charm for good luck, what would it look like?”
Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. His mind wandered to the strange charm he carried with him—the one that had appeared after he first touched the Dream Tree. “I guess... something simple. Something that feels... real,” he said softly, his eyes drifting as he recalled its sharp edges and unassuming design.
Mina tilted her head, curiosity lighting up her expression, but she didn’t push further. Instead, she held up the bracelet to the sunlight, watching it glimmer. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Something real.”
Izuku felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen just a little more. This—walking with Mina, wandering the streets, sharing simple moments—felt real. It felt solid. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe this connection, this moment, could be stable.
His fingers brushed over the trinkets displayed on the table, moving almost unconsciously until they stopped on a small, sharp-edged pin. As he picked it up, a strange feeling settled in his chest. The pin’s silver sheen shimmered in the light, and it twisted between his fingers like it had always been meant to be there.
The woman behind the stall noticed his interest and gave him a wide, toothy grin. “That one caught your eye?” she asked brightly.
Izuku startled at her words, the busy noise of the market rushing back in. He realized he’d been so focused on the pin and Mina’s presence that everything else had faded away. Around them, the crowd bustled and shifted, brushing past in constant motion. The woman studied him curiously when he didn’t answer. “Not much of a talker, hmm? Well, I’ll tell you what—if that pretty girl there gets the bracelet, I’ll throw that pin in as a bonus.”
Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but a faint smell caught his nose—smoke, distant but distinct, like a dying bonfire. He frowned slightly, distracted.
Before he could speak, Mina’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Deal!” she said quickly, but then added with a sly smile, “However, I did notice a dent on this bracelet. Would that perhaps mean you could sell it for a little less?”
Izuku found himself stepping back slightly as Mina and the woman began haggling. The energy of their exchange was quick and lively, the sounds of Mina’s laughter mingling with the vendor’s animated replies. He let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing as the crowd seemed to thin around him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, scanning through notifications with a practiced glance.
Hero news reports, a fire in a residential area, a villain sighting—just the usual. Nothing jumped out at him immediately, but the smell of smoke was still faintly there, lingering on the edge of his awareness. He raised his head, his eyes searching the skyline, but Mina suddenly stepped into his view.
“Here you go, greeny~,” she said cheerfully, holding out the pin. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, clearly proud of her negotiating skills.
Izuku blinked at her, his mind still half-distracted by the strange smell, but her warm smile and the sight of the pin brought him back. “Thanks,” he said quietly, taking it from her hand. For a moment, he just stared at it, the edges pressing into his palm as if grounding him. The faint smoke smell tickled his nose again, and his brows furrowed slightly.
Mina leaned closer, her head tilting as she tried to catch his gaze. “What’s up, Izu? You look like you’re a million miles away again.”
He hesitated, the pin resting heavy in his hand. “It’s nothing,” he said, though his tone lacked conviction. He glanced over his shoulder, the crowded market alive with sound and motion, but nothing obvious stood out. Shaking his head, he slipped the pin into his pocket. “Just... thinking.”
“Well,” Mina said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with an exaggerated sigh, “if you’re gonna be stuck in your head, at least do it while we check out the next stall! They have takoyaki!” Her grin was infectious, and he found himself nodding, letting her lead the way as his thoughts swirled.
Even as Mina’s laughter and the warmth of her presence filled the moment, the smell of smoke lingered in the back of Izuku’s mind. It was closer now, sharper, and more urgent.
His vision blurred, and a cold wave of dread clawed at his chest. Something was wrong—really wrong. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, instincts screaming as he surged forward. “Mina!” he shouted, tackling her to the ground just as a cascade of blue flames engulfed the market.
The evening sun dimmed, swallowed by the inferno. Waves of searing heat roared past, and Izuku felt the familiar crack of the chitinous armor on his back as it took the brunt of the flames. It burned—God, it burned—eating into his flesh even as his quirk absorbed the heat. His ears rang with Mina’s cry, her voice cutting through the chaos. His mask formed on instinct, snapping into place as if his body knew it would need to endure.
As the torrent of fire finally tapered off, Izuku didn’t waste a second. He wrapped his arms around Mina and bolted, his legs pounding against the pavement as he carried her away. His lungs burned with each breath, the acrid stench of smoke thick in the air. Turning down an alley, he laid her down gently in the shadowed corner, his hands trembling as he scanned her injuries.
Her right hand was red and blistered, her left foot showing signs of a light burn, all across her arms and legs were scattered signs of red. Not devastating, but enough to make his chest tighten. His mask receded in moments, relief warred with guilt as he murmured, “You’re okay… You’re okay…” He couldn’t tell if it was meant to reassure her or himself.
Mina groaned softly, her golden eyes fluttering open. “Izu… what…”
“Stay here,” Izuku said firmly, cutting her off as he rose to his feet. His body moved on autopilot, driven by an instinct he didn’t fully understand. He turned back toward the market, his heart hammering in his chest as he sprinted into the chaos.
The scene he returned to was a nightmare. The vibrant, bustling market was gone, replaced by charred ruins and choking smoke. The acrid scent of burnt flesh made his stomach churn as his gaze landed on the burned husks of people scattered like discarded dolls.
A few survivors stumbled away, screaming, their cries echoing through the twisted remains of stalls. And there, amidst the carnage, stood a man in a trench coat. He moved lazily, as if browsing the remnants of the market with casual indifference, the flicker of blue flames dancing along his fingertips.
Izuku’s blood ran cold. His fists clenched tightly, the sharp edges of his mask scraping against his skin. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to act, but his feet felt like they were rooted to the ground, his mind caught between fury and horror as the man turned slightly, his cold gaze sweeping across the wreckage—and landing directly on Izuku.