Chapter Text
“All Might.”
Toshinori looks up from his computer and spins his chair around to see Aizawa standing behind him, arms crossed and expression as serious as it ever is. Although, after months of working with the man, he’s learned some of the subtle differences between his resting expression and his other expressions, and this is one of his serious serious expressions.
“Yes?”
“You need to speak with Midoriya about Nighteye. It’s not an emergency, but it’s not good, either. Sooner would be better than later.”
“Wait, what?” He asks, blinking several times in quick succession. “What are you—what?”
Aizawa takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as a dark expression crosses his face. Toshinori almost gets chills—this is the kind of expression he had when he found out about who was behind Bakugou’s treatment at the Sports Festival, this was his expression during the days between Bakugou’s capture and release, this is his ‘one of my students is in danger and heaven help whoever threatened them’ expression.
“I learned some concerning things about your ex-sidekick last night,” Aizawa finally says, icy calm as he opens his eyes. “Like I said, you should talk to Midoriya. I’m not sure I got the full story there, and you may get more out of him. Or not. The kid idolizes you. He may not want to give you the dirt on your ex-sidekick.”
“ Aizawa ,” Toshinori sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What did you learn?”
“He’s been mistreating Midoriya. I only got the bare minimum of details last night, but it’s not good.”
Toshinori’s heart lurches in his chest. No. This—no. No, Nighteye… no matter his personal feelings about One For All and Toshinori’s choice in successor, he wouldn’t take that out on Midoriya, would he?
Oh, no, he absolutely would. The man is petty to a fault and… And Toshinori had let that knowledge be dulled by the wear of time.
He had sent his successor right to the hero who would be the least likely to help him. Clouded by past emotions and willful obliviousness, he had ignored his knowledge of the man and now Midoriya is paying the price for it.
“What… What do you know?”
Aizawa glances around the teachers’ room. It’s early in the morning, before most teachers get in, and the only ones nearby are Yamada and Inui, who can both be trusted to keep their mouths shut about anything they may overhear.
“As far as I can tell, he’s been trying to subvert the kid, undermine his confidence in himself. Comparing him negatively to Toogata, singling him out for punishment, giving him tasks that are beyond his current skill and knowledge level… Things like that.”
Toshinori closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
And then another.
The flow of air catches in his lungs, the way it normally does, and he bites down on the urge to cough.
He manages to grind out “thank you for letting me know” before he has to stand and leave, the emotions in his chest swelling and threatening to overwhelm him.
It all makes sense—too much sense—and he could kick himself for not thinking that this could happen. Of course Mirai—Sasaki—Nighteye would be trying to subvert Midoriya. If there’s one thing the man wants from Toshinori, it’s for Toogata to be the next holder of One For All.
Don’t get him wrong, Toogata is a good kid and a wonderful young hero, but Toshinori chose Midoriya, who has reinforced that decision over and over again in the time since Toshinori made it.
So Nighteye is trying to undermine Midoriya’s already fragile, almost non-existent, self-confidence, in an effort to… make him give Toogata One For All? Make him go to Toshinori and ask him to change his mind?
Whichever one it is doesn’t matter, because his blood boils the same either way. Nighteye has no business trying to choose the next holder, and furthermore, trying to subvert and manipulate the current one to give it to his preferred choice is… He could never call Nighteye evil or villainous , but there is nothing morally or ethically correct about trying to tear someone down in this manner.
Rage pounding in his veins, regret clouding his vision, Toshinori flees to the single-stall staff restroom until he has himself back under control.
The day passes like a snail crawling through molasses, dragging on and on for an eternity until finally it’s time for him to go oversee 1-A’s heroics class. Aizawa joins him, as he often does, glancing at Toshinori with a side-eye that speaks volumes.
As the class gathers outside the day’s training ground, he keeps an eye out for Midoriya. His successor is one of the last students to arrive, talking quietly, head down, with Iida and Todoroki. Asui and Uraraka soon join them, a small crowd of close and true friends.
Perhaps … He cuts his thought off with a minor jerk of his head. It’s no time to be wondering over Midoriya’s secret-sharing choices. There will be chances later to mention the subject, to bring it up and discuss it. For now, he has a training exercise to explain and conduct.
He keeps an eye on Midoriya throughout the entire briefing. His successor doesn’t look much different than he did the day before, although a difference is there. He’s lighter, almost, looser, a stress gone that Toshinori almost hadn’t noticed.
Thinking back on it, Midoriya’s increasing stress and resurgent self-deprecation coincide perfectly with the start of his internship with Nighteye. For the past two weeks, he has been growing quieter, more tired, less sure in himself, and Toshinori had just written it off as the stress of work studies. They were hard for himself as a second-year; they must be incredibly stressful for the first-years.
But this is more than that. Deeper than that. How could he have not put it together? He had all the pieces. He hadn’t figured it out, and his successor had paid the price.
The day’s exercise goes smoothly, or, as smoothly as it ever does with twenty excitable teenagers. Midoriya stands in the back corner of the viewing room with his friends, the five of them muttering back and forth to each other about what’s happening on the screens. Yaoyorozu joins them at one point, and the six of them keep a running commentary on the exercises that neither Toshinori nor Aizawa can find much fault in.
Midoriya’s own turn to go is good, all things considered. His team-up with Hagakure and Shouji is unusual but allows for a different side of his skillset to be showcased. His successor can be slippery, when he puts his mind to it, and this is one of those many times.
His cunning is a skill that Toshinori had hoped that Nighteye would be able to help refine and train in a way that Toshinori isn’t necessarily able to do. While he’s smart, he’s never had much need for cunning, not the way Nighteye and Aizawa and many other lower-powered heroes need it. Midoriya has the potential to be a much more flexible and well-rounded hero than Toshinori “Flying Brick” All Might ever was.
At the end of the exercise, as the students are heading back to the changing rooms, Toshinori manages to catch Midoriya’s eye. His successor pauses, tilts his head, and Toshinori smiles at him, hoping there’s some way he can convey the depth of his pride and affection through his expression alone.
He must succeed at something , because the curious, unsure expression on Midoriya’s face melts away, revealing a tentative smile.
Hopefully, that ‘tentative’ can be exchanged out for a ‘confident’ sometime in the near future. Hopefully, Nighteye hasn’t had the chance to do any more permanent damage to the kid’s psyche than was already there.
Hopefully, Toshinori can fix this.
Once the students are gone, he pulls out his phone and sends a quick text asking Midoriya if there’s a time they could meet up and talk this evening. He doesn’t get a response until classes are let out for the day, informing him that anytime works, and he has time right now, does Toshinori want him soon?
Toshinori sends a response back, and within a few minutes finds himself and his successor together in their customary meeting room. Red polish flashes at him from Midoriya’s nails as he greets him, dropping his backpack on the ground and sitting down in his customary seat.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Midoriya rarely beats around the bush during their meetings, and this is no exception. Normally, Toshinori appreciates it, but…
This is going to be a hard conversation.
Instead, he waves it off. “Can’t I just want to meet with my successor to talk to him?” Midoriya blushes and ducks his head, tangling his fingers in his hair in a way that just highlights the bright red polish. Toshinori had missed it earlier, hidden as it was underneath the gloves of his hero costume, but honestly… “I see you painted your nails. That color suits you!”
“Oh, oh, thanks.” Midoriya looks away, blushing even deeper. “It, um. Tsuyu and Uraraka did them? Well. Uraraka did them. With Tsuyu’s polish. Um. Anyways. Thanks.”
“Of course. It takes a commendable amount of courage to express yourself in ways that… aren’t exactly smiled upon by society. I’m glad to see that you’re comfortable enough to do so at UA.”
Midoriya blushes even deeper , if that were at all possible. “I-i-it’s, well, it, it’s not like I’m the first guy to, uh, to wear nail polish, in my class…”
“Even so, it must still have taken a lot of courage,” Toshinori replies. “Now…” He sighs. “I must admit, there was something on my mind when I asked if you had time to meet today.”
Midoriya looks back towards Toshinori, taking a deep breath. The blush fades as he sobers, watching Toshinori with serious eyes as he gathers his words.
“I… have been recently made aware of… the way that your… The way that Nighteye has been treating you as your work study mentor.”
All the breath rushes out of Midoriya’s lungs as he drops his eyes to his lap and wraps his arms around himself. In this moment, he looks small, small in a way that Toshinori hasn’t seen him for months.
Not since the very beginning of their relationship, at least.
“Mr. Aizawa told you,” Midoriya murmurs, voice hushed.
“He did,” Toshinori confirms, nodding. “He informed me this morning. And… I apologize, for not seeing this sooner, for not realizing that Nighteye would… still be bitter.”
Midoriya’s head snaps up, wide eyes locking onto Toshinori. “It’s not your fault,” rushes out of his mouth, words cramming together like cars crashing on the freeway. “It’s—I didn’t tell you, and there’s no way you could have known, really, and it’s, it’s not as bad as everyone’s been making it out to be, anyways.”
“Please,” Toshinori says, holding up a hand. “Midoriya. Relax. It’s… You’re okay. Would you… Are you okay with telling me what’s happening?”
Midoriya looks down again, hands tightening around his upper arms. “I… I don’t want to… You and Nighteye are already… You’re already estranged. I don’t want to… To complain and make it worse.”
Toshinori holds back a deep sigh, instead lacing his fingers together and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Kid… Left up to my imagination, I’m sure what I’ll come up with to fill in the blanks will be much worse than the reality. And… besides. If he’s been treating you the way that Aizawa implied he’s been treating you, then I don’t think he’s someone I particularly want to be involved with anymore. You’re more important than some old bridge I’ve already burned.”
Midoriya looks up, slowly this time, eyes still wide. For a moment, Toshinori is struck by how young he still is, and how much he’s already gone through in his life. The addition of Nighteye as a ‘something he’s gone through’ could have been avoided. This was a situation that should have been dodged.
“I…” His boy pauses and takes a deep breath. “Are you… sure?” There are already tears building up in his eyes, ready to spill over at any moment.
Toshinori forgoes his customary teasing to nod. “Absolutely,” he replies. “You can tell me anything, anything at all.” I would do anything for you , he doesn’t say. I would choose you over anyone is kept locked up deep in his chest, never to see the light of day.
A flash of teeth as Midoriya chews on his lip, and then he’s taking a deep breath and sitting up straighter. “Well… he, uh, he’s… not exactly… happy with, uh, with me…”
“He’s not happy with my choice of successor,” Toshinori says, sighing. “He… has expressed his displeasure at being passed over to me before, yes.”
“Um… yeah.” Midoriya swallows. “Well… he… didn’t really want to take me on as in intern? He… set up a test for me,” the stress on the word test implies scare quotes around the word, “but it… He told me to get the stamp from, the stamp for the internship papers from him… he wouldn’t stamp them unless I could. But… he used his quirk on me before that.”
Toshinori has to hold back his sigh. Of course. Of course the man would set up some sort of rigged test of skill, just to hammer in how utterly he disdains Midoriya, just to begin the process of undermining the kid’s self-confidence.
“I couldn’t get it, obviously.” Midoriya continues, hands slowly releasing his arms. “He… stamped the papers anyways, but, but he told me that he was going to… to use the work study to prove to me why I shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have been, why I shouldn’t be… shouldn’t have One For All.”
“He had, has, no right to do that,” Toshinori says, just barely modulating his voice so that sentence doesn’t come out as a complete snarl. He looks at Midoriya’s face, finding an expression filled with apprehension, anxiety, but not fear. Good. Good, Toshinori hasn’t—doesn’t—he wants to hunt Nighteye down and tear him a new one for daring to be so self-aggrandizing, to hurt his student so.
He takes a deep breath and wrangles his emotions back into line. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Still, it was wrong of him to do that, and wrong of him to treat you that way. Please—continue.”
Midoriya nods, taking a deep breath of his own. The tears are rolling down his cheeks now, a steady stream rather than any sort of cathartic deluge. “So, um, it’s just… Aizawa already knows the rest. Um. He just… I don’t know, it just… What do you already know?”
Thinking back to his conversation with Aizawa in the morning, Toshinori replies, “he’s compared you negatively to Toogata. He’s singled you out for punishments and deliberately given you tasks above your current skill and knowledge level.”
A nervous chuckle escapes Midoriya. “Yeah… yeah. That’s, uh, that sounds… right. He just… keeps talking about how I’m… not really cut out to be a hero? And about how much better Mirio would be as a… as a successor. I mean, I, I know it took me ages to figure out how to stop hurting myself with One For All, but… I… I guess…” Midoriya trails off, biting his lip again.
He doesn’t continue speaking, instead curling in on himself again, leaving Toshinori to guess where he had been going with that sentence.
“Your struggles with controlling One For All aren’t on you,” Toshinori says, taking a jab in the dark. “As your teacher, they’re on me. I didn’t know what I was doing, and… you paid the price for that.” His successor has paid the price for a lot of his mistakes. The only thing to do, though, is to move on and try to make less of them.
“No, it’s… I know quirks,” Midoriya protests. “I should have been able to figure it out sooner.”
“Yes, you know quirks,” Toshinori agrees, “in relation to other people . Having a quirk of your own is something completely different.” And Toshinori would know .
“I… Yeah, it is.” Midoriya nods, unable to formulate an argument against that. “But… still. I screwed up my arms, and… and that… Maybe he’s right . I mean, who else was screwing up so badly with their quirks at the beginning of the year that they were literally mutilating themselves with them?”
“You’re not the only hero trainee to ever struggle with your quirk,” Toshinori points out. “Not even the only one in your class.”
Midoriya frowns, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards as he thinks. He’s quiet for several beats, the ticking of the clock on the wall marking the passage of his silence. Toshinori doesn’t bother counting the ticks, but almost a minute has passed before Midoriya speaks again.
“But it’s… different. They’re not… This is One For All .” Midoriya looks up, glaring at the wall, hands fisted in the fabric of his pants. “It’s…” His throat works as he looks for the words he needs, although Toshinori can guess at some of what he’s feeling: One For All is a quirk that comes with a legacy and a mission, like no other quirk on earth does. He has eight generations of heroes to follow in the footsteps of. That’s a heavy weight for anyone to carry, let alone a sixteen-year-old.
Toshinori has been doing his best to share that weight, but maybe… maybe it’s too heavy for just the two of them to carry on their own. After all, despite the man’s more negative attributes, he had Nighteye helping bear the burden for years.
“One For All isn’t a normal quirk,” Midoriya continues. “It’s… it’s more than that. And I… What if you chose wrong , All Might? What if… I’m, I’m really not good enough? I can’t… It’s taking me so long to learn how to, how to control it and, and I can still barely use much of it at all… And maybe All For One’s in prison now, but he might not stay there, and then there’s Shigaraki, and, and, and…”
Midoriya takes several stuttering breaths. Toshinori waits for him, barely able to breathe himself. He’s known Izuku has doubts, maybe a lot of doubts, but this…
“I’m supposed to be your successor,” Midoriya whispers, leaning forward and staring at the ground, refusing to look up. “And how… How can I do that? How can I be that? I’m not… I’m not enough . I… Mirio would have been a better choice. He’s already so, so good…”
“Didn’t we already go over this?” Toshinori whispers in kind. “You’re my successor, yes, but you don’t need to be me . You just need to be yourself .”
Midoriya’s head snaps up, face twisted into the kind of expression Toshinori had hoped never to see reflected on his own successor’s countenance. “But don’t you get it?” he all-but-shouts. “I’m not enough! I’m not good enough! I, I’ve been trying my best, but my best is never enough!”
Toshinori sighs as Midoriya crumples forward again, arms wrapped around himself and shoulders shaking as he sobs. Slowly, chest aching, he reaches out and puts a hand on his boy’s knee.
“You are enough. You are brave, and kind, and you care so much for everyone around you. What more could I ask for?”
Breath taken by bitter crying, Midoriya can’t reply vocally, but he shakes his head, a broken whine scraping its way out of his throat. Toshinori aches with the need to comfort him, somehow, to do something to ease this pain, but he’s stuck, brain spinning out as he tries to desperately search for a way forward from here.
Another whine works its way out of Midoriya’s throat—
He’s trying to choke them down. He’s trying to choke his sobs down, cut them off, and…
And these are not the normal Midoriya tears. Midoriya is expressive, so open with his emotions—most of them, at least—that he cries on a regular basis. But these tears, Toshinori has never seen these tears before, not from his boy.
That’s what makes up his mind for him. He moves, switching spots to sit by Midoriya, and pulls him into his arms. Midoriya comes willingly, leaning into Toshinori’s chest, entire body shaking as he dampens his sobs in Toshinori’s shoulder. Toshinori holds him tight, resting his chin on the top of his head.
They’re tactile with each other, yes, but hugs, true hugs, are rare. Side hugs, head pats, shoulder pats, fist bumps and high-fives and affectionate shoulder-punches make up the majority of their touch.
Maybe they need to hug more often.
Gradually, Midoriya’s sobs calm down, until, breathing normally, he pulls away from Toshinori, wiping his eyes dry with the back of his hand.
“S-sorry, I, I didn’t mean to…”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Toshinori replies, resting his hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. “It seems like… that was something that needed to find its way out. And I truly don’t mind.”
Midoriya drums up a smile, a twisted, wry, self-deprecating smile. “I… guess.”
“ Truly ,” Toshinori stresses, “I don’t mind. If you need to, to talk about, or vent about… anything , you can come to me, and I’ll listen. I’ll do my best to help, in whatever way you need from me.”
For a moment, Midoriya doesn’t reply, and Toshinori readies himself to repeat it, to repeat it as many times as he needs—
Midoriya nods. “I’ll… keep that in mind.” He doesn’t sound convinced, so Toshinori resolves himself to say it as many times as he needs to for it to sink in.
“I’m serious. Anything, anytime. You’re not… you’re not a bother, especially not to me.”
Midoriya presses his lips together, and he looks close to tears again as he sniffles once. Still, he nods, not saying anything like he’s worried his voice will fail him or he will burst into tears again.
Toshinori takes a deep breath and leaves it be, for now. There will be more time, better times, in the future to press this issue. There is, after all, still the original issue of Nighteye.
“…Returning to the original topic at hand,” Toshinori begins, carefully picking out his words before he speaks them, “I just want to assure you that I have no second thoughts about you. Nothing Nighteye does or says can change my mind about you, and he is completely out-of-line in his attempts to undermine you.”
He pauses, waits, to see if Midoriya has anything to say. Next to him, the boy’s breathing has grown harsher again, measured inhales and exhales pushing through clenched teeth. He’s still trying not to cry again.
“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t come to me about this because of my past relationship with Nighteye—”
“Didn’t wanna prove him right.”
Midoriya’s voice is small, and breaks often, cracks appearing in the middle of his words. Toshinori pauses, waits, and Midoriya continues.
“I could… Could handle it. It’s not the first time people have said things like that to me. I didn’t want to…” The rest of the sentence remains unsaid, hanging in the air between them.
Toshinori bows his head. “I understand. Completely. But, and it’s a lesson I’m still struggling to learn myself, but relying on the people around you isn't a weakness. And, even if it’s not to me… I hope you’ll reach out for help when you need it. And I’m proud of you for reaching out for help now.”
“Tsuyu and Uraraka tricked me into it,” Midoriya mutters, reaching up and scratching the back of his head.
“Then I’m very grateful to them.” Toshinori squeezes Midoriya’s shoulder then removes his hand from it, and immediately misses the contact between them. “They are true friends, indeed.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty great.” This time, Midoriya’s smile is real, though small. Toshinori returns it with one of his own.
“I’m glad you have such good friends to rely on.” Maybe, soon, Toshinori can begin warming him up to the idea of, perhaps, telling them about One For All, into letting them help him carry this weight. In the end, however, that will be Midoriya’s decision to make.
It’s his secret now, after all.
“And,” he adds, after Midoriya has nodded, “for the record, you are going to be—you already are —an amazing hero. I look forward to seeing where you go. I know you’re going to make me proud, so proud, because you already do.”
Midoriya whines, his tears spilling over yet again. “You can’t just say that!”
“I can, and I’ll say it again and again until you know it for fact.” And just for the hell of it, Toshinori pulls him in for another hug, one that, this time, Midoriya returns, wrapping his arms around Toshinori’s skinny chest and burying his face in his shoulder.
Oh, how lucky he is, to have stumbled across Midoriya at just the right time.
There’s no one he’d rather have as his successor.