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Izuku took a deep breath and braced himself. “I have Star Chart, because All for One’s my dad…”
Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, it wasn’t for All Might to start coughing up blood. He grimaced and handed his mentor a tissue from the box on the table. When the coughing fit didn’t seem to be going away after a minute, Izuku asked, “Are you okay?”
All Might nodded and waved him off, but he didn’t pull the tissue away from his mouth.
When the man’s face started looking a little more red than tan, Izuku decided to pick All Might up and race him to the infirmary anyway. (He just carried All Might!)
“Recovery Girl, he won’t stop coughing!” he called as he set All Might down on a bed.
“Yagi?” the nurse asked, poking her head out of the supply closet. After taking in the sight of him, she sighed and started hobbling over. “For goodness sake, what have you done to yourself this time?”
All Might hunched his shoulders and adopted a chastised look.
Izuku edged toward the door, not really wanting to be here when Recovery Girl figured out he’d been the one to set off All Might’s coughing fit. “I’ll leave you to it?”
The nurse shooed him toward the door with one hand while holding a stethoscope to All Might’s chest with the other. All Might’s eyes met Izuku’s over the heroine’s head. Something haunted and…horrified? Dismayed? Izuku wasn’t sure what that look meant, but the only other time he’d seen one like it was at Kamino.
He ducked out of the infirmary, walking away quickly. He winced as he heard a fresh round of wet coughs start up behind him. Maybe he could have explained that better. He couldn’t believe they’d misunderstood each other so badly. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so anxiety-inducing.
All Might had thought Izuku got the original All for One because it had been copied into One for All. Which…okay, fair. All for One technically did give the original quirk to his brother willingly. In theory, it could have stockpiled his quirk. (Why didn’t it? What if it did?)
Izuku physically shook himself. It didn’t matter. All Might knew the truth now, even if he didn’t take it…well. It would be nice if this revelation didn’t change things, but Izuku wasn’t sure he could hope for that. He hadn’t stuck around to find out either way.
Even with several hallways between him and the infirmary now, Izuku couldn’t shake All Might’s expression; whatever it was, the look had burned itself into his memory. (His mentor had never looked at him that way before.)
All Might was the first person to believe in him. What if the hero changed his mind now that he knew the truth?
The walls seemed too close all of a sudden, and Izuku’s chest felt tight. The back of his mind buzzed with what ifs and danger. He needed to be anywhere but here.
When he stopped running, he was out in the forest surrounding UA. His chest burned now in addition to feeling constricted. He struggled to breathe as he stumbled further into the trees. He blinked some of the blurriness from his eyes, though that clarity faded again in seconds. Once he found a suitably hidden corner to convince his anxiety that he wouldn’t be found, he curled himself into it and quietly fell apart.
Crying didn’t help his chest feel any better, but at some point, his weariness outweighed his worry, and even the Midoriya Tears™ ran out. He exhaustedly gathered the wrung-out pieces of himself and sniffed before lifting his head from his knees. He…should probably head back to the dorm before someone started wondering where he was.
He frowned when he saw how foggy the forest was. He didn’t remember that being in the forecast. His heart sank as he glanced down at his arms. His skin was pink, irritated. As soon as he noticed, the discomfort hit him. His skin felt horribly dry and tight.
His head hurt too. Was that from crying or Danger Sense? Both?
Izuku closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to feel miserable, shivering at the January chill sinking its teeth through his gym uniform. Then he pushed himself to his feet. Or, he tried to. The movement brought the acidic fire in his chest into stark focus. The burn in his muscles barely registered past it. He dropped back to the ground with a choked sound before groaning.
Why did Recovery Girl have to always be right? Quirk exhaustion was the absolute worst.
He stayed there for a while, breathing through the pain and maybe wallowing just a little. It had been a long day. How sore would he be if he took a nap out here? Aizawa took naps in odd places all the time; so, surely it couldn’t be that bad.
He’d about convinced himself to sleep wedged between the tree and boulder that made up his hiding spot when he heard a flutter of wings. He frowned and looked up to see a pigeon staring down at him from a tree branch. It bobbed in place and cooed at him twice before taking off again.
He sagged and lowered his head back to his knees. Great, his classmates had found him. That interaction had Koda written all over it. He debated trying to disappear again before deciding against it. He and his quirks were well and truly spent.
He didn’t have long to wait. Only ten minutes later footsteps and a familiar yellow-green light approached his hiding place. Then Yamada-sensei crouched a meter away from him. “Hey, Little Listener, can I ask why you’re out here communing with nature? Not that that’s not great, but you sure rushed out here in a hurry. Made a few people worry.”
Izuku stomps down on the urge to shrink in on himself. He really can’t afford to accidentally use Smokescreen again. He shook his head before setting it back on his knees. “I’m fine,” he said, wincing at the way his voice cracked in the middle.
Yamada hummed. “Well, Fine-kun, why don’t we head back indoors? Todoroki was making some hot cocoa. Said he’d save you a mug.”
The last time Todoroki had tried to heat up a drink with his quirk it had boiled over in seconds. The tea stain was still in the common room’s carpet to prove it. Izuku grinned at the memory. His lips downturned a moment later. “I’m not sure I can move right now.”
Yamada grimaced. “Quirk exhaustion?”
Izuku nodded.
“That’s alright, Listener. Here, I’ll help you up.”
Izuku bit back a pained whine as Yamada pulled him to his feet, the movement only stoking the fire in his chest.
“You okay, Listener? I can take you to Recovery Girl if—”
Izuku violently shook his head. All Might might still be in the infirmary, and Izuku couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him (his expression) again so soon.
“Okay.”
Yamada waited for Izuku to catch his breath before handing him his jacket—despite Izuku’s protests. Then they started the awkward shuffle back toward campus. The 20 centimeters difference in their height meant Yamada had to hunch to keep Izuku’s left arm over his shoulders, and despite that, the angle made Izuku’s shoulder ache within minutes. At least his arms didn’t hurt like before.
Did he ever tell anyone about his dad fixing his arms and hands? Izuku couldn’t remember. Was it supposed to be a secret?
Speaking of secrets, how much had Aizawa told Yamada? With All Might’s reaction so freshly seared into his mind, Izuku wondered. Aizawa had taken everything…relatively well when Izuku told him, but he was Aizawa.
Yamada had been so nice to him. Izuku wasn’t sure he deserved it. (How could he if All Might…) Something uncomfortable twisted its way through Izuku’s gut. “Yamada-sensei?” he asked before he could think better of it.
Yamada hummed, eyes not leaving the forest floor but clearly listening.
“What did Aizawa-sensei tell you about my quirk?”
“Hm? Oh, that. He just told me you’d sprouted a new ability like that whip one you got during the joint training. Still don’t get how borrowing quirks relates to super strength or energy tentacles, but I’ve seen stranger.”
Really? Izuku almost asked, but he caught himself and shook the thought aside, grinding his lower lip between his teeth. He…he should tell Yamada. He’d let Izuku take his quirk without knowing what—
Izuku swallowed. “It…it really isn’t related…” He took a steadying breath and explained his quirks for the second time today, keeping his eyes downcast and pretending they weren’t watering. Yamada hadn’t even done anything yet; why should he feel like this?
Instead of anything Izuku expected, Yamada finally broke the silence with, “Huh, what are the odds?” When Izuku made a confused sound, Yamada continued, “The biggest bad in Japan somehow has a kid who’s one of the most promising hero students around. Real ‘do as I say, not as I do’ type, I take it?”
Izuku let out a surprised laugh. “What?”
They stepped from the trees onto one of the many well-maintained trails crisscrossing campus, and Yamada finally took his eyes off their footing to meet Izuku’s eyes and gave him a lopsided grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d even say you’re entirely different people.”
An invisible weight slipped from Izuku’s shoulders and fell to the ground behind them. Izuku wasn’t quite sure how to respond. They walked in silence for a time, but this quiet was less anxious. It might have even been comfortable if Izuku didn’t still feel like he’d fallen in a meat grinder, but he’d take what he could get.
Eventually, Yamada asked, “Does you being out here have anything to do with your story?”
Izuku stumbled at the sudden question, but Yamada kept them upright. Izuku’s face heated, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet his teacher’s gaze. That seemed to be answer enough for the man.
“Hm. I take it someone else didn’t take the news so well?”
“Y-you could say that.”
Yamada squeezed his left wrist. “Well, I for one don’t care who you got your quirk—quirks?—from. You are a good person.”
“But Star Chart—”
“Could be used to hurt people, yeah, but so could Voice or Erasure,” Yamada interrupted to point out. “It’s the person behind the quirk that really matters. Sho and I will say it as many times as it takes for it to stick here,” Yamada said, gently rapping a knuckle against Izuku’s forehead. “And here.” He lowered his hand to rap that same knuckle against Izuku’s sternum.
If Izuku spent the rest of the walk swallowing back tears, Yamada didn’t call him out on it.
Todoroki’s hot cocoa was good. There were a dozen little marshmallows in it and a hint of peppermint. Yamada-sensei somehow convinced Izuku’s classmates to not pester him while he downed the beverage. Then he sheepishly returned Yamada’s leather jacket and retreated to his dorm room. He was asleep almost before his head hit his pillow.
~*~*~*
They were in the park, like so many times in their childhood. And like so many times before and after, crackling pops drowned out laughter.
“Kacchan, stop! You’re hurting him!” Izuku yelled at his friend, stepping between Kacchan and a boy neither of them knew. Why was Kacchan being so mean? The other boy had just asked if he could play with them.
“Who’s going to make me, Deku? Get out of my way!” Kacchan said, shoving him aside with a still smoking hand.
Izuku stumbled and grabbed Kacchan’s arm. His orange and army green star was the only thing Izuku could see for a moment. Kacchan raised a good point. Kacchan was amazing; who could stop him? No one else was stepping in. It was just Kacchan and Izuku and the hurt boy.
If there was no one else, then Izuku would just have to do his best. Some instinct had him tightening his grip and pulling. “It’s wrong! I won’t let you hurt him!” Izuku didn’t realize what he’d done until Kacchan’s star vanished, and his own hands started feeling weird and tingly.
He couldn’t see Kacchan’s star anymore, but he could feel it.
Kacchan shoved Izuku off, pointing a hand at him and snarling…but no explosion came. “Huh? Why won’t my quirk work?” Kacchan asked shaking his hands, then staring at them as he flexed them. The other boy took that opportunity to run; Kacchan barely spared him a glance. “It was working fine before…” He snapped his eyes up to meet Izuku’s, furious and scared. “Deku, what did you do?!”
Izuku scrunched his face up in return. This wasn’t his fault! Kacchan was the one being mean. “I—"
“Izuku? Katsuki? What seems to be the matter?” Dad asked, stopping beside them. Had he run? He’d been sitting on a bench on the other side of the monkey bars.
“He did something to my quirk,” Kacchan accused, pointing at Izuku.
Izuku pouted up at his dad, knowing Dad could already tell he had Kacchan’s quirk. “Kacchan was being mean to someone else, and he was using his quirk to hurt him! I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen!”
Dad sighed and rested a hand each on Izuku and Kacchan’s heads, gently pulling Explosion from Izuku’s chest and putting it back in Kacchan’s. Izuku never could give a quirk back before it finished settling, but Dad could. Just another way their quirks were different. “What am I going to do with you boys? Izuku, when someone’s being cruel, tell me or another adult instead of trying to handle things yourself.”
Izuku sniffled and nodded, catching sight of Kacchan sticking his tongue out at him from the corner of his eye.
Dad’s hand tightened in Kacchan’s hair to get his attention. “And Katsuki…” Uh oh, that was Dad’s angry voice. “We don’t use our quirks to hurt others or go around shoving people when we don’t get our way. I will tell your parents about this.”
“But—!”
“No buts,” Dad said firmly, scooping both Kacchan and Izuku up in his arms like they weighed nothing. “Time to go home. You boys have had quite enough excitement for one day.”
“Okay, Dad,” Izuku said, burying his face in Dad’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around Dad’s neck. Only now did he remember what Dad had said about keeping what he—they—could do a secret. Was Dad angry at him?
“Fine, Uncle Sashi,” Kacchan grumbled. A moment later, there were the telltale pops of Explosion. “Hey, my quirk’s back!”
Izuku turned his head to look at Kacchan at the same time as one of Dad’s stars lit up like a supernova. “It was never gone,” Dad told Kacchan, his voice sounding weird and almost echoey. “You were just playing too long and got dehydrated. Your quirk requires you to sweat, after all.”
Izuku scrunched his face up again when Kacchan only nodded, looking a little sleepy, or maybe confused? “But—”
Dad’s arm around Izuku tightened just a little for a moment. “Hush, Izuku. We’ll talk once we get home.”
Izuku buried his face back in his dad’s shoulder, sure now that Dad was mad at him. He didn’t look up when they dropped Kacchan off with Auntie Mitsuki or when Dad shifted him to hold him with both arms. He didn’t dare look up until the door closed behind them at home. It was quiet; Mom wasn’t back from work yet.
“Izuku?”
Izuku finally lifted his head, blinking teary eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Little Star.” Dad’s big hand rubbed up and down his back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s only natural to want to use our quirks when we’re angry or scared.”
“But you said not to use it or let anyone know…”
“I did, because I want to keep you safe. Our quirks…a lot of dangerous people would come after us if they knew.” Dad kissed his forehead and hugged him.
“But you’ll keep us safe. You’re strong,” Izuku pointed out. He couldn’t imagine anyone being stronger than Dad and all his stars.
Dad chuckled, but it sounded kinda sad and wet. “I’ll always do my best, Izuku, but I can’t always be home. I think I know a way to keep you safe though.”
“How?”
Dad’s hand settled in Izuku’s hair as a pair of Dad’s stars stared shining brightly again. Izuku felt suddenly sleepy and kinda numb. “Someone so young shouldn’t have to keep a secret like ours.”
“What if I’m bad at keeping secrets?” he asked around a yawn.
Dad chuckled again and held him close. “You’re an honest boy, Izuku, but you don’t need to worry about keeping a secret if there’s no secret to keep. You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure we’re safe. Then I’ll be back, Little Star. Until then…”
Izuku was more asleep than awake, but even with the tiredness and the odd numbness, the pain that ripped through his chest was the worst thing he’d ever felt.
~*~*~*
Izuku awoke with a strangled scream, hand clutched in his shirt over his heart. No, over his quirk.
He sat there, staring ahead into the darkness, gasping for breath and pulse pounding in his ears. The twin wells of warmth in his chest pulsed reassuringly. Star Chart and One for All were still there.
The memory of Star Chart’s loss ached like an open wound.