Chapter 40: Talking while Training and then More Talking
Izuku hit the mat for the...two hundred eighty seventh time if Lynchpin's snide comments in his ear were to be believed. They had been at this for hours; Mirko's unorthodox style of teaching essentially boiled down to, 'if I hit you enough eventually you'll learn to not get hit,' which ordinarily wouldn't have been so bad. Izuku's armor was made for cushioning impacts, absorbing and redirecting kinetic energy, and all sorts of other little things that kept the hurt away from him. Unfortunately, Mirko was strong in ways that made him worry his armor might shatter when she kicked him.
"All right rookie, water break," she called, turning and throwing a towel over her shoulder that landed on Izuku's head. He lay panting on the ground for a moment longer before he finally removed his helmet and dragged the towel across his face, looking at his teacher with tired but determined eyes. She noticed him looking at her and quirked an eyebrow. "What's up little bunny, you got something you wanna ask?"
"Too much, really, but uh, before anything else," he mumbled, dashing out of the room to the lockers and returning a moment later, notebook in hand. "C-could you, um, please that is, could you please sign this for me?" Mirko blinked at him, looking at the notebook, propped open to a page with a few diagrams of a wireframe figure sporting rabbit ears moving through a number of kicks and strikes, undecipherable but neat handwriting surrounding each diagram with little labels attached. She snorted.
"Sure, kid. I take it you've got questions about whatever...this all is?" She pointed to one of the pictures, which must have been her executing a Luna Fall, with a larger amount of writing around it than the others. Izuku blushed a bit and nodded, earning something of an annoyed chuckle from the hero, who rolled her eyes. "What, being on the receiving end not enough to teach you how it works? You need me to explain it to ya too?"
"Uhm, yes ma'am?" Izuku ventured, not quite sure which way the hero would go. Thankfully, the annoyance gave way to full on bemusement, and she smacked him hard on the shoulder, sending him stumbling forward a bit.
"Fine, not everyone learns the same. Not that I've ever taught anyone before. Don't do team ups, but you probably already knew that, what with yer notes there. Alright rookie, when we break for lunch I'll go over it the wordy way with ya, but that'll be a while yet. For now, focus on the how of the way I move, not so much the why behind it." She stretched, cracking her neck to one side and flashing him a feral grin that was all too reminiscent of Katsuki whenever he saw prey. "But first," she smacked a fist into her palm, "we're gonna learn ya how to dodge. Oh, and don't call me ma'am."
"Uh, yes Mirko-san," said Izuku, replacing his helmet as he set his notebook to the side and returned to the center of the gymnasium. He could already see dents in the floor, ceiling, and walls from where the hero had been bounding around while thoroughly wiping the floor with him. He gulped involuntarily as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
"None of that crap either. I'm Mirko, and you're either Rookie or Bunny till you earn my respect, got it? Right then, try to keep up," she smirked, blurring into a streak of white and purple, and then, he was on the floor again.
"Two hundred eighty eight," said Lynchpin in his ear.
"Three hundred fifty five," muttered Izuku, finally changed out of his jumpsuit, armor safely retracted and hidden under the forest green hoodie he favored during his off time. He shook his head, depositing the rest of his gear in the bin for cleaning. At least he'd have a fresh suit for Mirko to continue to smack him around in after lunch. Exiting the lockers he found the hero in question in the small lobby, tapping a foot as she leaned on the elevator.
"Not bad for a first attempt rookie," she huffed, arms crossed. "But you're limiting yourself in ways you shouldn't be, and it's starting to get annoying." Izuku looked up at her, brows furrowed and a bit of agitation rising in him.
"I didn't realize my ass wasn't that fun to kick. So many people have over the years, I figured it must be an absolute joy," he spouted before he could stop himself. Damn it, this was just like when Nezu would fry his brain during their lessons. He wasn't filtering himself.
"Ha," Mirko smirked, her features shifting just a bit towards fond exasperation. "There's the kid I want to teach. Watching you fucking fistfight your buddy into a bloody heap in the finals, that's the kind of shit you need to bring if you wanna learn with me. C'mon, it's grub time." Izuku quickly found himself yanked into the elevator by the forearm, the pro hero not saying anything else as she punched the button on the elevator for the sixteenth floor. Clearly, she knew her way around the agency better than he did.
A few minutes of comfortable silence and more foot tapping from the hero saw the doors opening onto what could have only been the agency cafeteria. Staff, heroes, and sidekicks alike were all bustling around in the long, tall room, trays in hand laden with food as people scurried about for tables. There were multiple levels of seating with a number of glass staircases scattered around, and against one wall were a dozen shopfronts selling everything from barbecue to ramen to pizza to Powerade. Izuku couldn't help but reflect that it still didn't really compare with the cafeteria at Might Tower, at least from what he had seen in videos, but it was still cool to see.
"Alright Rookie, you got your ID card? Barcode's on the back, big man preloaded it for ya, and he put a lot on there, so go nuts." Mirko smirked at him, an evil glint in her eye. "Get your food and get your ass over to wherever I end up sitting; the longer you take, the less time you'll have for questions."
Izuku didn't quite blur, but Mirko had to admit she was impressed by how quickly he darted away into the crowd. She shook her head mirthfully and stared down a passing hero who had been about to sit down at a nearby table, some prick with 'JA' stamped on his helmet and a cape way too big for him. She growled at him and he wisely chose to find seating elsewhere. Now smiling genuinely, she sat down and pulled out her phone, tapping in an order from one of the nearby food stalls and sitting back to wait.
It wasn't more than seven minutes before a pile of food wobbled over to her table, a bushy green head of hair peeking up from behind it before it was set down and her charge appeared, notebook in hand already. Her own food arrived a moment later, a server bringing up several plates on a small trolley. She eyed the dishes hungrily, paying special attention to the large slice of carrot cake that was off to one side. Screw stereotypes, she had a sponsorship from the carrot farmers union, and she was damn well going to take advantage of it.
"Talk and eat, Rookie, I'll answer what I can, but first, we're going over what I told you we'd discuss." She took a bite from her tempura, savoring the shrimp and staring at Izuku as he began to work on his large bowl of pork cutlets. "So, first thing's first, we're gonna talk about your fighting style." Izuku visibly brightened up at that, preparing to ramble.
"I've been trained in basic hero combat by Eraserhead as part of the normal coursework, and I'm a black belt second dan in krav maga, and the equivalent of a brown belt now in muay thai." He swallowed another bite of his lunch, already finished with one bowl and moving onto another. Shit, this kid could eat.
"See, that's part of what I'm talking about," said Mirko, biting into a stick of celery and chewing forcefully. "You're good at normal stuff, fighting against someone with rules, no quirks. But things are different now. Being a hero, there's no rules to how to fight. Oh sure, you've got techniques, but the purpose of learning 'em is to change 'em to fit your style."
"Oh, like my friend Ochaco! She's with Gunhead right now trying to incorporate his style of martial arts with her own quirk." Mirko smiled and nodded to him, moving onto a bowl of udon now.
"Sure Rookie, like that. When I saw you in your festival, I noticed a few things. One, ya got guts, and I like that. Two, ya favor your legs when ya brawl, and ya ain't afraid to fight dirty." She smirked again, and Izuku uncomfortably recalled what he had done to the boy he'd be sharing a roof with that evening. At least he hadn't seemed too mad about that kick when they had been speaking earlier. "And three, you're wasting energy when you move by limiting yourself."
"How do you mean, Mirko?" Asked Izuku, now moving on to a dish of pickled plums. Mirko had her own dish of what looked like glazed carrots that he wisely chose not to comment on.
"You're holding back from fighting like a hero, even when you're not constrained by the rules. You can bounce off the walls, you can speed around, blow shit up, zap fuckers, and you're strong as hell. But mostly, you fight from range, and when people get close, you switch back into normal martial arts bullshit, with some tasering mixed in. You're not letting your body flow through the motions it wants to in a super powered brawl, and it's making you stiff."
"But they've always been effective," Izuku opined, now beginning to work on a plate of yakitori. "Why would they still teach martial arts if they didn't work?"
"I didn't say they're ineffective, I said you're limiting yourself, kid," she retorted, moving onto her bowl of miso. "Most villains you run into, all you need's minimal force. But if you're aiming for the top, you gotta know how to really wreck face. And that's what I'm here to teach you how to do!" She drained the last of the soup and slammed the bowl down with the other dishes, finally going for the carrot cake.
"Ah, I think I see now," replied Izuku, feeling only a little chided. "I appreciate the opportunity to learn from you, Mirko." He made for his own dessert, a plate of taiyaki, with a variety of fillings. "So, is now a good time for me to ask you about your moves and fighting style?" She rolled her eyes around a bite of cake and chuckled.
"Sure, brat, ask away. You got about ten minutes." Mirko really didn't know what she had just agreed to, but ten minutes later, she knew a number of things she hadn't before, mostly about herself, but also about her student.
First, she could have better leg supports implemented into her costume for even more striking power. Second, her ears were in fact adapted to shutting off sounds that were too loud for her, and could also pick up on frequencies most people couldn't. Third, Izuku Midoriya could never, under any circumstances, be allowed to fall to villainy. It was a nightmare scenario, eclipsed only by Nezu deciding to use his own powers for evil.
Slightly dazed, she led the eager boy back to the elevator, down into the gym, and finally shook herself back to full readiness. Now that the kid knew why he was here, she was really ready to let him have it. One way or another, he'd learn how to fight like a rabbit, especially if he was going to keep those bunny ear antennas on his helmet. She couldn't afford to have someone bringing down her image, after all. Mirko cracked her neck and smiled, one of her most dangerous ones. This was going to be fun.
Mirio felt a little more upbeat today, especially as he threw himself into his work. Of course All Might was right! His little bro would come around again in time, and until he was ready for it they'd each keep working on their own to be the best heroes they could be. And once Izuku was clued in on everything they could tell him, then they could show each other how much they had grown in the meantime. It would be like when he was helping the boy train for UA, back when things had been simpler.
Contrary to popular assessment, mainly among people who didn't know him, Mirio was anything but simple. Sure, he had pretty straightforward emotions that he wore openly, but that didn't mean he wasn't more than capable of complexity. All it meant was that he was emotionally in tune enough with himself to know how he felt about most things, and that he had no reason to hide it. It was one of the most liberating parts of being himself, and the fact that he had so many secrets to keep and lies to tell had been eating at him.
Oh, sure, he was actually pretty good at lying. Sir had made sure to teach him how to bend his words, work through half truths, and even make up outright fabrications, all in the name of being a better hero. But just like hurting people, even though it was sometimes necessary, that didn't mean he had to like it. Being a hero was much more than just punching villains, thankfully.
Mirio was pulled from his self reflecting by the arrival of Kaoruko, a stack of folders clutched beneath one arm which she proceeded to drop all over his desk space in her hurry.
"Bubble Girl," said Mirio, chuckling a bit and gathering the dropped files, doing his best to return the correct papers to their envelopes. "In a hurry?" The woman shot him a tired smile and blew a strand of hair out of her face.
"Sir is in a double time rush to get a handle on this 'Stained' situation, and he still wants my reports to read more humorously. I'm," she pinched her thumb and forefinger almost together, "this close to another round on the tickle machine, and frankly, I'd rather not give him any encouragement in that direction."
"Have you tried some more puns? Sir usually appreciates those," supplied Mirio, sorting the papers into his in-tray like Sir had taught him, making note of the colored tabs on the folders for assessing their priority. It looked like the Shie Hassaikai were on the move; Overhaul had been spotted in some kind of convoy a while back and hadn't returned to their main compound since, and now a number of their normal Trigger distribution routes had gone dark.
"He only ever laughs at yours, Togata-kun, oop, sorry, Lemillion." She chuckled to herself a little dryly, fighting with her hair some more. "Say, kiddo, you haven't seemed your bright and happy self lately either. Something on your mind?"
"Oh, shoot, it's not too noticeable is it?" Mirio scratched his head a little uncertainly, and Bubble Girl huffed another tired laugh.
"Nah, just me and Centipeder noticed. The civvies won't be able to tell, if you're worried about that. It's just, we're used to the usual sunshine and rainbows attitude of yours, y'know?" Now it was Mirio's turn to sigh, before a more genuine smile crept over him.
"Just some family issues is all," he paused, "that and I still can't figure out how to use this new part of my quirk." He took a moment to steal a glance at his clenched fist, as if daring it to break again. Recovery Girl and the agency's healer on staff were both getting more than a little exasperated with his broken bones, and he still couldn't move past fifty percent power!
"It sucks when family doesn't get along," she opined, hopping up onto the desk behind him and sitting down with a weary sigh. "But things usually work out in the end, y'know? How about your friends, huh? They're on internships with Fatgum and Ryukyu again, yeah?"
"Mhm," nodded Mirio, smiling a bit wider as he pulled up the latest pictures his friends had sent him. Tamaki was standing behind his mentor, cloak billowing a bit in the wind as the big guy deposited a villain into police custody, his normally sullen friend looking satisfied with himself for once. Nejire, meanwhile, had sent them both a selfie of her resting on Ryukyu's back while the dragon had been flying over Musutafu on her wider patrol route, flashing a peace sign. "They're both on these 'Stained' guys too, and some of the first years now are getting involved as well."
"Yeah, it's really all hands on deck for these creeps. We ended up losing another hero two days ago, don't know if you saw," she said, frowning and swinging her legs a bit. Mirio answered in the negative and she replied after a moment of silence. "Nobody big time really, small towner who came to Hosu to make a name for herself. Sweet girl."
"You knew her personally?" Bubble Girl nodded sadly.
"Yeah, she was a Shiketsu student I met during the old provisional tests. I ran into her once or twice after I started working for Sir. She always talked about getting a decent sponsorship so she could send money back home to her folks. That's why the investigators think she was targeted. Did an interview in a magazine a month or so ago talking about how heroes are compensated, why it's a viable career path for supporting yourself, y'know, just, the reality of the job. Poor thing deserved better than what happened to her."
Mirio felt his guys twist uncomfortably when he heard that, recalling another young woman who his little bro had taken a shine to. They had met on a few occasions now, but almost always in passing. Still, Izuku had mentioned to him once or twice that her motivations for becoming a hero were partly financial, and he had never seen anything wrong with that. Everyone had to make a living, and being compensated was hardly the worst thing in the world. To kill someone over not being ashamed of being paid...to kill someone that sounded so much like sweet little Uraraka. That made him well and truly angry.
"Uh, Lemillion, you might wanna uh...cut the sparks? I think you might catch your paperwork on fire there. Oh, shoot!" Mirio looked down, noticing the white lightning dancing over his forearms as he clenched his fists. He released the power, feeling it nestle back underneath the surface, just as Bubble Girl sent out a spray of her quirk to smother the smoldering edge of one of his folders.
"Well, crap, that's not good," mused Mirio, picking up the paperwork. Thankfully, the actual documents inside the folder had remained undamaged.
"Phew, that could have been a lot worse," chuckled Bubble Girl, now gathering herself up to leave.
"Indeed, it very well could have," came the impassive voice of Sir Nighteye, his glasses glinting as he rose up behind the pair. "But thankfully, quick thinking has saved the day, even if poor time management may have endangered it in the first place." He adjusted his glasses, arching one eyebrow as he looked down at the two. "Bubble Girl?" The woman tapped her fingers together, screwing up her face for a moment before light dawned on her.
"Oh, oh, I got one! Uh, want to hear a roof joke?" Sir Nighteye sighed.
"Very well."
"That's good, cause the first one's on the house! Eheh, eheh, heh?" The tall man stared at her for a moment longer before nodding.
"Acceptable. You may return to your duties for the day." The relief the woman let off was palpable, along with a few bubbles smelling of lavender. She scurried off not a moment later, leaving the two men alone. Sir regarded him for a moment longer before grabbing a nearby rolling chair and sitting in it backwards, wheeling up to sit across from Mirio, staring.
"Uhm, Sir? Is there something I can help you with?"
"Lemillion," he began plainly, allowing his glasses to dip a little below his eyes. "I need for you to request Midoriya's analysis on a particular file. I've been in contact with Nezu, and he has told me that the boy has a talent for dissecting quirks that eclipses even his own."
"Uhm, Sir, you know that we're not exactly on the best of terms right now," Mirio responded, a little weakly. "He did choose another agency, after all. Can we really bother him with this?" Sir only nodded gravely.
"I'm afraid we have no choice. This concerns the Stained, and their leader. Following their pattern, the next attack is imminent, and if we want to stop them, we need more information than what we have. Lives are at risk here; I'm sure Mr. Midoriya is a reasonable enough fellow to be able to put aside his feelings for the sake of saving others." The mask slipped, for just a moment, the stoic man's features fastening into something kinder, and Sir reached out to grab Mirio's shoulder. "He takes after you, after all." Mirio laughed at that, and shook his head.
"I'll ask him, see what I can do. I can't promise anything though."
"All I ask is that you try," said Sir, rising from his seat. "We have to act quickly, or else this may get even more messy before this is over."
"That's it Bunny, hop, hop again, now spin and...kick! Yes, that was the Luna ring!" Mirko clenched her fists in utter delight as Izuku skidded to a stop in front of her, the wooden targets on the training course behind him all shattered at chest height. He disengaged the booster module on his armor, panting a bit as he ripped off his helmet, grinning ear to ear in a friendlier mirror of the Rabbit Hero's own visage. "That was almost perfect, Kit, you're really getting the hang of this!"
"Really? I feel like I'm still wasting energy when I move though," he said, his elation fading a bit as he reflected on his performance. Mirko sighed and smacked him on the back, again surprising him by how hard she hit.
"Kit, you've had one day, and not even an hour to get it down. I'm a perfectionist, sure, but even I'm not that hard on myself. Stop over analyzing things and just have some damn fun! Laugh like a madman when you smack down a baddy. Like this!" She slammed one fist backwards into the stack of replacement targets behind her, crushing them all in one motion, then threw her head back and started cackling.
"Hahaha?" Izuku added, a little weakly. Mirko just shook her head some more and flopped back onto her haunches, grabbing a water bottle and a towel.
"Alright, take another five, Rookie. I'll answer some more questions while you breathe." Once again, Izuku perked up, only to deflate a little bit while he considered something. Mirko looked at him curiously, obviously expecting another barrage of questions.
"Uhm, I was wondering...Endeavor-san said that you had wanted to request me for an internship but you had already ripped up the forms and didn't want to request replacements. Why?" She smirked at him.
"Why the forms, or why the request?"
"Both?" She laughed and dropped back completely, sitting on the ground now and stretching her legs. Izuku followed suit.
"Well, basically, it's part of my act, and part of who I am. I don't do team ups, I don't like relying on others, and I don't have time for anyone that can't keep up. Plus, Nezu's a major pain in the ass, sending me those damn forms every year, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction." Izuku chuckled, rising from his stretch into a squat.
"But why me though? You said you liked the fistfight, but Kacchan was in that too, and he's...well, he's a lot cooler than me. He's more in line with your image. And I mean, I'm sure there were second and third years who also would have-"
"Uh-uh, none of that self deprecating bullshit, Kit," Mirko cautioned, rising up on one leg and stretching the other to be nearly vertical. Her features softened just a bit, and she bopped him lightly on the head when she brought her foot back down. "Tell ya what, go hit some more shit and I'll keep talking. How's that?" Izuku nodded and moved to comply, imitating Mirko's Luna Fall and adding a twist at the end with his boosters.
"Perfect, now just keep making it your own and you'll be well on your way." She gave him a genuine smile and a thumbs up at that, and he continued on through her other moves.
"Now then, as for your other part of that question. Reason I chose you in particular is, well, I guess there's three parts to it. First, I like your spark. You've got a drive to be the best, but ya also try to help people, like with the insomniac kid. That's the kinda shit that heroes like Gigabutt forget about."
"Gigabutt?" Laughed Izuku, landing with a bit of a stumble from another kick. "Damn it, almost."
"S'my name for Mt. Lady, but don't ya go telling anyone that. Also, move your back a little more on the swing, you're still too rigid." Izuku nodded and attempted the move again, finding it much easier with the adjustment. "Now, as for part two. I already mentioned it, but ya like to use your legs, and there ain't that many heroes that don't go in for the punches almost exclusively. That's probably on account of them wanting to be like All Might. So I figured, eh, teach the brat your style, maybe he'll do something neat with it, something the others don't wanna or can't do." Mirko crossed her arms and looked away from him for a moment, a cloudy look on her face now. Izuku finished his move and turned to blink at her.
"What's the third reason, Mirko?" She huffed and turned back to face him, now definitely sporting the softest smile he had seen her wear. It was reassuring, but in a different way from All Might's signature grin.
"Cause ya remind me of a younger me, Kit," she said, grabbing some fresh targets and setting them up around him while Izuku gulped water. At that, he stopped and looked at her, confusion evident on his face. "What I mean is...ah to hell with it. When I was a kit myself, everyone always laughed when I said I wanted to be a hero. Cute little girl with a rabbit quirk, fighting villains? They all thought I was nuts, so I proved them all wrong, and now I get to kick ass and take names. When I saw you going nuts in the festival, turning the last fight into a bare knuckle boxing match, I guess I got interested. You took a brain quirk and turned it into a tool for brawn, and that's something I can respect."
Izuku spat out his last sip of water, almost choking as he looked at the pro disbelievingly. Sure, UA had the cover story if there had ever been a problem with his gear and the laws on support items, but surely Mirko had known the truth right? Endeavor definitely did.
"Uh, Kit, why ya staring at me like a deer in the headlights?" She cocked her head at him, and Izuku felt himself blush, fresh worries and old fears rising up in his gut. Would she leave when he told her the truth? Would she get angry? Well, it was probably better to just rip the band-aid off now.
"Uhm, M-M-Mirko-san, I d-don't h-have an i-intelligence quirk," he said, hating himself just a little for how quickly he fell back into his nerves. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? "I d-don't have a q-quirk at all. I'm UA's f-first quirkless h-hero student." He closed his eyes, waiting for the angry reproach. It never came however. Instead, he felt a reassuring hand on the armor over his shoulder, and opened his eyes to see an excitedly smiling Mirko.
"Fucking A, you're more badass than I thought, little Bunny!" Izuku blinked at her again, now even more confused. His life had used to be so full of certainties, even if they were mostly negative. Now, it seemed it was one curve-ball after another. "At first I thought it was the rabbit ears on your hat," she said, teasingly flicking the stylized antenna, "but you've got the spirit of the moon rabbit in ya, don't ya?"
"You're not mad?"" She laughed again, clapping him on the back, a little more gently.
"Hell no I'm not mad, Kit. If anything, I think ya might've just earned a bit of respect. Whole world against ya, and you're still the most badass kid in your class. Tell ya what, when you graduate, I'll keep a spot open for ya at my agency. Only sidekick I'll ever want is one that's almost as badass as me!" Izuku couldn't help it, almost immediately turning on the waterworks. He had to remove his helmet to rub at his eyes, only to startle the hero in the process. "Ah, shit. What'd I do? Shit, sorry Kit, uh…" Izuku waved his free hand in the air, cutting her off.
"No, Mirko, it's n-not bad, I'm just. You're so awesome, and I'm just, s-so lucky to h-have so many people who believe in m-me. People who w-want to help me with my dream. Thank you, Mirko!" He bowed then, finally managing to stem the flow of tears down to just watery eyes. The hero huffed good naturedly and mussed his hair up a bit.
"Ah shit kid, ya earned it. And uh," she glanced towards the door, narrowing her eyes for a moment before looking back to him, "when it's just you and me, you can call me Rumi, or even just Oneesan, alright Kit?" He nodded, and she ruffled his hair again. "Alright, enough sappy shit, back to work!"
The Todoroki house - or maybe manor was the more appropriate term, perhaps estate - was traditional in a way that few homes were anymore. Surrounded by manicured gardens inside the compound walls, it was an impressive work of classical architecture; low, sweeping roofs, long, open hallways, and tatami flooring throughout. There were, of course, several concessions to modernity inside, including cutting edge appliances and electronics. Not to mention the fully packed bookshelves Izuku had happened to spy in one room as he was given the fifty cent tour.
The most notable feature of all, more so than the house itself, was the presence that made it into a home. The very kind young woman who had shown him around, and now was busy setting out dinner was named Fuyumi Todoroki, the only daughter of the Todoroki family and, Izuku learned, the oldest surviving child. She was petite bordering on frail, but gentle in a way that reminded him of his own mother. Shoulder length white hair was tipped in short crimson bursts that could only have come from her father, who was currently sitting at the head of the table.
Izuku grimaced a bit, still feeling the strain in his shoulder. After he and Mirko had finished their training for the day, the rest of it had been spent in an even more reinforced room with Endeavor, one that had built in fire retardant nozzles and sensors, and more scorch marks than even Mei's lab. The man had been curt, but professional, and Izuku hadn't felt like the pro was giving him anything less than his best attempts at instruction. He really was trying to teach him, helping him to feel the power in his gauntlets in a way that was a lot less intuitive to him than how he had visualized it previously, but he couldn't argue with the results. The degree of control he had achieved through their visualization and breathing exercises was stunning, and he could reliably control the size of his blasts now down to the centimeter.
After that though, it had been repeated blasts and unusual techniques, over and over again to the point of exhaustion. The room they were in, as the hero had predicted during their morning meeting, was considerably worse for wear at the end of their training. If this was how the man trained him, he could understand how his son would have had it harder, especially knowing what he did about his circumstances.
Still, the younger Todoroki's words about things being uncertain made him doubt the idea that he had the full picture, especially if the boy was now seemingly willing to learn from his father. Coupled with the fact that he had stopped shooting him dirty looks, their short conversations on the bus and in the lobby likely meant that Shoto Todoroki was starting to successfully draw him into his special brand of family bullshit. Now though, he was sitting across from the boy while Fuyumi fussed around, asking small, polite questions, and miraculously managing to draw out some kind of positive emotion from his classmate.
He hadn't seen where Todoroki had gone while Izuku was training with Endeavor, but the boy had certainly seemed shaken on the car ride back to his home. Something about him had been off lately, sure, but this was different. There was a tenseness there that was worse than he had been before, worse than during the battle trial, and the sports festival, but that unease seemed almost aimless, like he didn't know where to direct his ire. Not for the first time, Izuku lamented not having Ochaco with him to sort out all the emotions around him.
"So, Midoriya, you and Shoto have been in school for a while now, but Shoto hasn't talked much about how your teachers are. Have you been enjoying UA so far?" asked Fuyumi, smiling sweetly over her glasses at him. Izuku nodded, putting down his chopsticks to the side of his bowl as he considered how to answer.
"It's definitely different than what I had expected, but at the same time, I think it's exactly what it should be. Aizawa-sensei is strict, but fair so long as he isn't pulling a logical ruse." Down at the head of the table, Endeavor snorted a bit, but otherwise kept his composure. Izuku guessed he had worked with the man on some occasion before. "Nezu-sama is...terrifying, but in a good way. I think. He's fried my brain more than once, but I appreciate that he's just trying to help me reach my potential. That seems to be the overarching ideology, even if most of the instructors have their own ways of going about things. Aizawa-sensei likes to mention the freestyle education system quite a bit actually."
"Well, it certainly seems to be effective, considering how many top heroes the school produces," Fuyumi added, "I'm a teacher myself, but at the elementary level." Endeavor grunted at the end of the table, lifting his eyes.
"It is important to remember that it is not just the top heroes that UA produces. Most of the best equipment technicians come from the support course, nearly every top agency has a management alumnus for its bureaucratic side, and you'll never find a higher rate of university acceptance out of highschool than UA's general education tract. It is a school that prides itself on allowing those destined for greatness to flourish." Izuku caught Todoroki stealing a quick glance at his father, before he returned to staring at his own food, looking troubled. Fuyumi didn't seem too surprised to hear her father speak, so it probably wasn't unusual for him to offer his opinions at the dinner table. Was it the content of what he had said that was the issue for his son?
"Now then, Midoriya," began the hero, staring at him intently. Izuku returned his gaze, though he began to sweat a bit internally. "You performed well enough today, and I understand your lessons with Mirko were acceptable as well. You will be training with me for the first half of the day tomorrow morning while my son works with his own trainer, before Mirko covers your afternoon training. You will report to the same gym as today at four AM sharp. Tomorrow will be harder, so I expect you to be fully charged, or whatever it is you need to do to prepare yourself. I wish to have you both ready for patrols come Wednesday evening, and that cannot happen if either of you are remiss in your training."
"Yes, sir, Endeavor-san." Izuku replied quickly, noting the time with Lynchpin on his phone and relying on him to create the necessary alarms. The man simply nodded, before turning towards his daughter.
"The meal was good, Fuyumi. Quite the feast. If you need me for any reason, I'll be in my study." He stood abruptly, gathering his dishes and heading towards the kitchen before pausing momentarily. "Shoto...good work today. I will see if I can arrange for your trainer to give you some more rest time tomorrow." Todoroki only stared at his father's retreating back, not giving any reaction to the man's statement. Izuku and Fuyumi exchanged uncomfortable glances before she finally cleared her throat.
"Well, you two should probably rest up for tomorrow, especially if you have to be up so early. I'll handle everything here, so please don't worry about that." Izuku thought about offering an objection, but the knowing look the young woman shot him with put an end to that train of thought. Deciding to simply accept the hospitality, he offered his thanks with a bow, and quickly retreated alongside Todoroki, heading upstairs to the guest bedroom.
Izuku had already showered and changed into his sleepwear when the knock came at the door to the guest room. It, like the rest of the house, was ostentatious in a traditional way, and could have easily fit his own apartment's entire living room inside. He paused in unrolling the futon, taking a moment to decide whether he would pretend to already be sleeping or not before letting off a weary sigh and making up his mind. Still, they had to be up by three thirty at the latest tomorrow morning in order to get to the agency on time; was this really the time for family bullshit?
"Come in, Todoroki-san," he said at last, trying not to let the irritation into his voice. At his call the door slid back to reveal his classmate and erstwhile biggest detractor, looking uncomfortable in his own home, and sporting his own set of pajamas. Izuku would have figured him to wear a jinbei in the evening, especially given the warmer weather, but it seemed that he had eschewed tradition for comfort, at least in this instance.
"Midoriya," said the other boy, cautiously approaching him and sitting on the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping one arm around them. He rested his chin atop his forearm and stared at Izuku for a moment, who coughed as politely as he could. "I do not understand you, and I wish to rectify this." Izuku, once again, blinked at him and said nothing. "I have said already that I have come to question things of late."
"Actually you said that you were uncertain of things, quite a few times," Izuku interjected, scowling a bit. Sure, he had wanted to eventually get on cordial terms with the boy, but that had been before the festival. Izuku didn't know if he was really willing to expend the effort anymore, especially given his prior statements.
"I have spent a long portion of my life with incorrect information, and from that, certain assumptions that have informed my decision-making. Of late, I have learned more of the truth, and I am trying to correct those assumptions."
"So, you're saying that quirks don't necessarily determine what someone can do now?" Izuku questioned with a bit more venom in his voice than he had intended. Todoroki was unfazed however.
"I do not know. I am certain, however, that I do not understand you, and fixing this lack of knowledge could be the first step in finding the answer to that question." Izuku was a bit taken aback at that, not having expected his classmate to admit so easily that he was unsure of something. He had certainly been sure enough of his ideals all throughout the semester so far, but then, he had thought he had all the facts then, hadn't he? Now, what could he have learned to have caused such a change?
Come to that, what kind of training had he been doing that he looked like he did now? His skin had an unhealthy pallor, his eyes seemed a bit sunken, and there were shadows across his face that seemed more to do with a spiritual exhaustion than any physical malady. He had been training with his father all his life and had never looked like this before. Was this the work of his other trainer?
"Alright," said Izuku at last, staring at the boy levelly, "what is it you want to know?"
"I spoke with Bakugo during the sports festival; he challenged my understanding of things, and that assertion of his was supported by both his, and ultimately your, victory."
"What was the understanding he challenged?" Asked Izuku, shifting a bit uncomfortably.
"That your presence weakened those around you. That your attempt to take up All Might's mantle was allowing him to abdicate his responsibilities; was allowing him to let himself become weaker because an heir who could never fulfill the same role as him was trying to take his place." Izuku felt his temper rise and was about to retort when Todoroki spoke again.
"Bakugo's assertion when I challenged him on this was that you, in fact, made those around you stronger rather than weaker. That you made them better people than they were. I surmised this was personal from the way he spoke, and the fact that he defeated me in the festival despite his weaker power supports his claim. That you went on to win overall was further evidence. So tell me, Midoriya, how did you make Bakugo stronger?"
Realization hit Izuku like a wall rising up at 90km/h, the sudden insight filling in all the little details that he hadn't seen before. He thought Todoroki had been implying that he had been incorrect about his parents' marriage being a quirk union, that things were really what they appeared like on the surface of things. No, what he really had been implying was that he had misattributed the cause of that union to his father, when someone else was at fault. Could it have been his mother?
No, Endeavor hadn't bought the woman, that was for sure. And he too must have been sold, or at least, was not the responsible party in the transaction. It was the only way for Todoroki's sudden acceptance of the fire aspect of his quirk to make sense, for him to have found this out and to have let go of his hatred for his father. But if that were the case, then there were some other disturbing implications. Like the fact that the only man strong enough to approach All Might in all of Japan was under someone else's thumb, someone who had put the hero there in order to, ultimately, create the boy that was Shoto Todoroki.
That explained his seeming obsession with birth, his certainty that there existed preordained roles for the people of the world. If he was the result of a quirk based eugenics campaign, it made sense that whoever had orchestrated it had considerable control over his education. Had Todorki ever attended school before UA? It would explain some of the lack of social graces. Endeavor's words to him at the sports festival echoed in his mind.
I fear that in my attempts to help him to shoulder those burdens, I have warped his perception of both his role in the world, and the roles of others.
Had the man been trying to help his son the entire time, in his own way? To help him cope with his situation by imparting a world view onto him that explained his circumstances? Or had he intended something else? Had he been trying to get Shoto to live for himself, outside the control of whoever it was that controlled his father? Had he failed in that? There were too many variables, too much uncertainty.
Izuku felt his anger fade, instead replaced by pity, mounting sickness, and strangely, grief. He knew that the most hateful people were often the most isolated, the most fearful. Todoroki had grown up practically alone, living in a home that was designed to raise him as a weapon for some purpose he couldn't know, with a father who for all his power, perhaps even for all his good intentions, had utterly failed to help his son to understand what was going on. Who had utterly failed to save him from whatever machinations had ensnared the man himself in the first place.
It was miscommunication, compounded with tragedy; his parents' loss of freedom, the death of their oldest child, his mother's mental break, and the boy's own inability to understand all of it, it had all combined to make Shoto Todoroki into who he was at his core. A fearful, isolated person who, more than anything else, needed help. He needed a friend, but could Izuku be the one to reach out to him?
He sighed internally. Maybe he didn't want to, maybe the emotional toll it would take on him would be too much. But then, heroes always butted in when there was a need for them, even when they didn't want to, and when they weren't wanted as well. And besides, Todoroki hadn't come to him asking for help to become stronger. No, he had come asking for help to become a better person, even if he might not consciously have known that Katsuki had meant them as the same thing. Izuku smiled wryly, reflecting that for all his aversion to it, he was still getting drawn into the Todorki family's bullshit. Maybe he wasn't so different from Katsuki after all.
"Well," Izuku began, smirking a bit, "Kacchan might disagree, but the real turning point for us started when one day during a fight, I kicked him in the groin really hard."