Chapter Text
"You leave today, don't you?"
Toshinori freezes in front of the stove. The spatula in his hand hovers over the eggs, stiff as the air round them. Izuku hears him sigh, watching as he sets the spatula down on the counter and turns off the heat.
The morning is slow. His mother has left for work and Toshinori dutifully makes breakfast the same as any other day this week. Izuku sits at the island. Before him rests a scattering of homework he forgot about in favour of the last few day’s chaos.
"Does that upset you?" he asks. He hasn't turned around to face him yet.
Izuku kicks his feet back and forth, sitting on his hands and waiting awkwardly at the island counter. He shakes his head before remembering Toshinori can't see that and bites his lip.
This day has been coming, he's known since the beginning of the week. Uravity said they'd be here only for this little time and then they'd have to go home to where people need them to be heroes. He'd accepted that at first. He was just happy to talk to real heroes.
Then they offered him their hands and ruffled his hair. They pulled him out of hidden alcoves and painted pictures of the world to come. With them around, everything feels possible, not dark and suffocating.
He doesn't want to go back to his closet.
"It's stupid," Izuku mumbles, his ears red. "I've only known you a few days."
"Izuku." Toshinori turns and steps toward him. His blue eyes lock on him, as calming and confident as the tides. "I've been endeared to people in far less time. Even if this were a matter of you simply being attached to us, it would not be stupid."
They don't make him feel like a Deku. How could they when they say these things to him after he tries to push himself down?
"My boy, I know you more than you think. You fear what comes after we leave," he says. He places a frail hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing. "What you're worried about is not forever. You are strong and you will endure this, and one day you'll meet us all again. Next time, we won't have to leave."
Izuku's eyes sting. His throat is tight as he nods. The early morning sun pushing through the window casts Toshinori in warmth. Like this, he does not seem skeletal and on the verge of breaking, but tall and brimming with strength. For the smallest of moments, he is familiar again. Izuku has seen him bathed in light before. speaking down to him words that let hope fester in his chest.
Maybe he does know him more than he thinks.
"Chin up, young man," Toshinori exclaims with a bright smile. "Let's make this a good last day, hm? Is there anything you'd like to do?"
Izuku stares at the papers spread across the counter. He perks up.
"Actually, could you help me with something?"
-:-
Izuku holds the envelopes close to his chest as he waits outside the school doors. Under the overhang, he watches the world drench below gray skies. The pitter-patter of rain alone accompanies him.
Hitoshi had been hesitant to leave him unattended, but he'd urged him away with a promise that he could watch from afar. If he squints, he can see the hero hidden in a tree a couple dozen meters away. He knows in one of Hitoshi's many pockets, another envelope is tucked away opened and read. Hitoshi hadn't cried, but he had wrapped Izuku in a sudden tight hug before shoving him away with pink cheeks.
Izuku's fingers worry the edges of those in his hands. He hopes the others take it just as well.
"Watcha doing, Deku?"
He looks over his shoulder to where Sasaki peeks their head out the school doors. Others, Ayumu and Takami, watch from behind him.
Izuku jerks his head forward again, clutching the papers tighter. He says, "Just waiting."
"For...?"
"Red Riot."
Sasaki barks a laugh and steps out of the school. He bumps shoulders with Izuku, and the latter feels his skin jump. He says, "Silly, Red Riot will get here with Bakugou. What do you want with him anyways?"
"Nothing," he mumbles. His shoulders rise to his ears and he glances across to where Hitoshi is. The tree is empty. In a flash, the world grows cold. His breath catches, his pounding heart clogging his airways.
"Come on, Deku," Ayumu urges with a sharp grin. She puts her hand on his shoulder and it is nothing like when Toshinori does it. "Show us what you've got."
"It's really nothing," Izuku protests.
"That's what you always say," Takami says with a roll of their eyes.
The hand on his shoulder gives a rough shove and he goes tumbling into the rain. He shoots his hands out to catch himself, only to watch in horror as the letters in his hands go flying. He sits in the rain as the three others pick up the papers before more than a few drops can get on them. Saski dangles the one in his hand by the corner.
"Are these letters?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.
"Those aren't yours!" Izuku cries. It's pathetic paired with the sight of rain slowly soaking through his uniform. He shivers and a different form of water springs to his eyes.
"Oh yeah? I don't see your name on it. Actually, I just see Red Riots." Sasaki giggles. His fingers slip under the seal and rip the envelope open. His grin widens as he begins to read, "Dear Red Riot. I don't know how to say this to properly show you how much you've done for me these last few days. You encouraged me to talk about quirks. You played games with me during class. You stopped the others when they started calling me names. You became dependable to me, in a way, and I'll miss seeing you everyday. You're unforgettable."
Saski stops as laughter overtakes his words. He waves the letter towards Izuku.
"Aww, did you write to the heroes?" Sasaki pouts his lips. "Like they care what a Deku thinks about them!"
Izuku's hands curl into fists. He screams, "They're not like that! They're my friends!"
"Oh! Look at this one!" Ayumu shouts. "It's written for Shouto!"
Scrambling to his feet, Izuku tries to rip the letter from her hands but Takami kicks him down. Back in the rain, he slips on the wet grass.
"Shouto, I'm sorry I'm awkward, though I guess you're used to that if we're married," Ayumu reads. She snickers. "You actually believe you're married? That guy was obviously pulling your leg."
He wants to scream about Kacchan and Dynamight and all the things that aren't lies but the first time anyone's tried to tell them the truth instead of beating him to the ground with insults. Instead, he sits at mercy to the wind and dark skies, and nightmares unfold.
"Look at this part at the end. He writes: you said I changed your world with a few words, but this week has changed my everything and you're a part of that. I guess we help each other."
"This one to Uravity is corny too!" Sasaki adds. He poses a hand in the air and continues with a dramatized impression, " You make me believe I can be something. Someday, I want to be a hero just like you; someone who gives people hope!"
"Stop it!" Izuku yells around tears.
"What about this one, hm?"
In her hands, Ayumu waves the envelope Izuku spent the longest on. Traced over the front of it, with spelling Toshinori had to correct him on, is the name Dynamight.
"I think he told you to stop."
The voice is louder than the rain, than his classmates' piercing laughter, than Izuku's frantic heart drumming in his chest. It's not one any student at their school has forgotten, engraved in their minds along with the fresh scene of a hero layered in lightning as they stand over a villain who never stood a chance against them.
Izuku won't look behind him, but his classmates' gawking faces are enough of a tell. He is here.
"Green," Sasaki gasps. The boy stumbles back a step. "We. . . We were just playing."
"It didn't seem like a very fun game," Green says. He steps past Izuku, and from Izuku’s spot on the ground he looks so much taller. He opens a hand towards Sasaki. "Can I have those?"
Within seconds, they scramble to place the letters in his hand. The hero tucks them into one of his belt pouches then faces Izuku. He lowers into a crouch, leveling them eye to eye. Rain forces the man's black hair into his eyes, the edges of it curling around his metal mask. Emerald irises stare at him with the same kindness the other heroes have.
"Are you alright?" he asks. His voice isn't as loud as before, though the volume hasn't changed it all. The tone is rounded off and softer than the grass beneath Izuku. Carefully he nods. Green nods back.
"You shouldn't pick on people like that," Green says over his shoulder.
Izuku sees Sasaki and Ayumu flinch. However, Takami crosses his arms and retorts, "You know he's quirkless, right?"
Green rises to his feet. He's still staring at Izuku as he says, "The fact that you tried to lie about playing games tells me you don't really believe that makes this okay. You should stop digging your own grave."
"But-!"
"Go to class," Green interrupts, leaving Takami with an open-mouthed expression.
When the number one hero tells you to do something, you do it. The three students hightail into the school, and Izuku swears he hears one of them make a comment about the hero talking to them.
Once they're far gone and their retreating footsteps no longer echo in Izuku's ears, Green offers him a small smile. There, in the rain and the calm of an early morning, Izuku feels his world break.
"How about we get out of here for a bit?" Green asks with a jerk of his head.
Izuku flushes, and carefully nods. Before he can register much, Green wraps his arms around Izuku's middle and launches them into the sky. Breath escapes him as he's dragged through the air and onto the roof, surrounded in an overwhelming sense of power. It's impossible not to be in awe. Izuku stares at Green when the hero sets him back down. They landed next to the roof entrance, the overhang of the entrance shielding them from the rain. Green sits down, pulling his knees to his chest and gesturing for Izuku to do the same.
The sun is tucked away behind grey clouds but if it was out, Izuku thinks it would shine brightest on Green.
"You can ask," Green says. He stares straight ahead, almost as if Izuku isn't even there.
Izuku chews his lip. It's not that Green makes him uncomfortable, rather he brings a peaceful buzz to Izuku's chest, but that there is some part of him that will always cling to hero worship. This isn't All Might, but the person who will become the next All Might, the symbol that everyone looks up to and can light up a room with crackling energy. Toshinori himself said it; this is the greatest hero to exist.
Maybe, Izuku looks up to Green in the future just as he does the current number one. He doesn't know what to say. With all the other heroes, words came and went, but the mere idea of speaking with Green has his tongue twisted up.
It might not just be the hero worship.
Under his skin, his blood is pumped with electricity, static that picks at his mind and lowers his senses. Something about Green sets him alight and eggs him like a forgotten memory.
"Why did you bring me here?" he forces out.
Green hums. "I wanted to talk."
"To me?"
Green doesn't respond. Instead, he reaches into his pockets and pulls out Izuku letters. Some of them have minimal damage; scatterings of water droplets or torn open envelopes. Green holds them out to Izuku.
"These were a nice idea. The others will like them," Green says.
Izuku stares, dumbfounded. Toshinori had said the same thing, but it's a different thing entirely to hear it from the number one hero. He'd wanted to show his appreciation for the heroes, but hadn't wanted the attention that saying something out loud would bring. All of this will cease to exist in his memory until years later, and he has to make sure these heroes fully understand what they've done for him even for just a little while.
One day, when he remembers them again, he'll thank them properly.
Izuku pushes the letters back towards Green. He asks, "Can you make sure they get them? I was going to have Red hand them out but if you're here. . ."
Green nods and the corner of his eyes crinkle.
"I'm sorry there isn't one for you," Izuku blurts. "I didn't know what to say. Everyone else I saw and met, even the ones that were brief like Cellophane, it came easy for but with you. . . It isn't even a hero worship thing, not really. I mean I'm talking just fine right now but to write out a thanks to you felt wrong . Unnatural almost."
Green hummed. The envelopes in his hands shuffle till one sits on top, its edges worn down by Izuku’s worried rubbing, and the name is traced in the neatest writing he could manage. Dynamight. Green's thumb slides over it, the white of his gloves contrasting black ink.
" You're a good hero. Thank you ," Green recites as he stares at the letter. "That's all it says."
Izuku tenses, agape. Green murmurs words Izuku didn't dare to say out loud. Toshinori looked over every letter but this one. Izuku wanted his opinion on if the heroes would think he was being silly or not. This one though - if anyone knows Dynamite, it's Izuku. Kacchan, no matter how many years down the line, is still Kacchan.
Not a soul is supposed to see this beyond its recipient. Not when his words outline the fragility of Izuku's soul, bearing the things he will not forgive but can see have changed. It's heavier than red shoes and burnt desks. Green reads out what he shouldn't have seen.
"How do you know that?" Izuku asks. "You can't know that."
"The same way I know a lot of things about you, like why you have such a hard time thanking me," Green states softly. He taps the letter. "This could have been thank you for protecting me , or thank you for changing. Possibly even, thank you for proving to me that this all is real and that there is still hope for my life to become something other than the hell you helped make it into. But that all felt like both too much and too little. So it was just thank you, because Kacchan always understands when we say less."
Izuku's thoughts move like molasses and his heart thunders in tune with the storm above their heads.
"What?" is all he can manage to say.
Green tucks the letters in his pockets as he leans towards Izuku. He gestures to the space around them and says, "You noticed the way the heroes treat you and Kacchan. They talk to you and gush about your habits or looks. They follow you into rooms and seek out your opinions, while protecting you and convincing you of your worth. Just you and Kacchan."
Of course he'd noticed. The stark difference to his life before left him reeling. A dozen people reached out to him when he'd spent his entire life being swatted away.
"But you brushed it aside," Green says. "You told yourself that it wasn't for the same reasons Kacchan was being taken care of, even when every hero told you to have some faith in yourself. You don't let yourself truly see who you could be."
Green taps his forehead.
"I know you figured it out last night. In the future, who are you?"
The math was, as Hitoshi said, simple once he pushed aside his doubts and looked at what was before him. He's married to a pro-hero. He seems to be friends with pro-heroes. Pro-heroes are encouraging him to believe in himself almost as if they knew what his dream is. Pro-heroes widely accept quirkless people.
"I'm a hero," Izuku says.
He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the rough padding on Green's gloves against his cheeks, pushing away the tears that spill over his lashes and down flushed cheeks. His lips had wobbled around his words as all the insults pressing down on his chest relieved.
Green's hands hold him. Through the blur of tears, he meets eyes just like his own - rimmed in green, wide, and watery, but different in the smile lines at they're corners and the distinct pride shining through.
"You're a hero," Green tells him.
Izuku cries. For all the times he was pushed into pavement for daring to look up to heroes. For all the times people weaponized his dream to save. For every day that he spent writing in a book that he was mocked for. For the fact that somehow it will one day be worth it.
The world in the future must be incredibly kind, because he is a blubbering mess but Green simply rubs his back and allows him to cry while the minutes tick by. He's long past being late for class by the time he pulls himself together. But, as Red Riot said, teachers always mark him late anyways.
"I'm sorry," is the first thing Izuku says when he pulls away from Green. He rubs his sleeve under his eyes and sniffles.
Green shakes his head. "Don't be. I cry all the time."
Izuku exhales with a weak laugh. He says, "Right. Red Riot told us a couple stories about that."
To his surprise, Green groans and covers his face with his hands. He moans, "Of course he did. He thinks it's funny to embarrass me."
"It wasn't all embarrassing!" Izuku defended. "He told us about your big fights and all the reform programs you made!"
"He knows I didn't do those alone! Our whole class helped!"
"But he did say you were the one to initiate a lot of them!"
Green groans again, as if the praise was more embarrassing than the stories about him crying. "What else did he tell you?"
Izuku opens his mouth. . . then closes it. After a moment of hesitation, he clears his throat and says, "He said if we want to know your hero name, we have to ask you."
When Green doesn't initially react, Izuku winces. Slowly, the Greens fingers spread, his eyes peeking through. He stares. Seconds drag on before Green sighs and sits up straight, his hands coming to fidget in his lap.
"My hero name," Green says carefully, "is very important to me. It represents both who I was and who I am now."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want," Izuku hurries to say.
"Deku."
"Really. It seems to be important so if you don't want to share, I get it."
"No," Green cuts him off. "That's my hero name. Deku ."
With water splashing on the roof around them and spilling from their eyes, Green pulls down his mask and hood, and lightning crackles within Izuku at the sight of freckles trailing down from green curls. His heart is no longer in beat with the thunder rolling through the skies. It hammers against his chest as he's reintroduced to himself, this time sharper in the curves of his cheeks, paled by scars that hash across his nose, with broad shoulders stretching almost wider than the blossoming wrinkles by his temples.
And despite all the new additions that have come with age, he is still unmistakably Izuku Midoriya.
"You're a hero," Green - Deku repeats.
Izuku is starting to think this isn't a prank, but a dream.
"But you're the number one hero," Izuku exclaims.
Deku smiles sheepishly and rubs at the back of his neck. "I know."
Izuku throws his hand in the air and shouts, "But you have a quirk!"
"I know."
"But you're supposed to surpass All Might! "
"I know." Deku smiles fully at that one. He puts a hand on Izuku's shoulder and firmly says, "All of that is true. I also know this can be a lot to take in. I could hardly believe it when it was happening to me."
Izuku's gaze runs over Deku's hero costume, from his padded knees to the tattered hood. The swift takedown Deku had made a few days before comes to mind, particularly the awe he'd dragged out of their school with his energy which crackled in the air.
"How," Izuku asks.
Deku grins.
He tells him a story of two brothers and their differences which warred for decades. He speaks of powers amassing within the hearts of the truest heroes, carving out the paths of society in the shadows. There are seven that he talks about as if they hung the stars, and an eighth his voice turns soft on. It is at that ninth, that he presses a hand to his chest and weaves the tale of how he gained the network of scars across his skin.
Izuku, despite all the insanity Deku's story is, believes him.
He looks down at his hands. Not very long from now, he'll have his own energy running under his skin. One For All will help make him a hero.
"You said Eight is a hero right now," Izuku says when he's finished. He'd interjected several times with squeaks of surprise or questions about certain details, but something about the way Deku talked about Eight made him not want to interrupt. "Would I know him?"
Deku chews his lip. "Er, I mean 'know' doesn't exactly do it justice. Oh! He's actually one of the heroes here - Toshinori."
Izuku brightens. "That'd explain why he's watching over me, and why he calls me by my first name. You two must close! He's nice!"
"Yeah well, he's All Might so it's expected that he's nice."
Izuku bluescreens.
Deku catches his wide eyed look and winces. He lifts his hands and shakes them like he's an entertainer. "Surprise. . .?"
"You're telling me All Might gave us this quirk?" Izuku screeches. "Oh my gods. All Might has been living with me this whole week!"
Oddly enough, Deku laughs. The sound practically vibrates in the air; it's unbound and nothing like how Izuku laughs. Deku says, "If it makes you feel any better, he probably loved every second of it. And, once you get to know him you realize he's not just this big and wonderful hero, but actually just as much of a dork as we are."
"Wait," he says as the image of Yagi Toshinori comes to him. "He doesn't look like All Might."
The hero frowns. "Oh. Right. His appearance came from an injury a while ago. In my timeline he's retired because of it and has since passed his mantle onto our generation. He still participates in hero society as Yuuei's English teacher and joins our class in a lot of heroics events, but it's for the best that he's stepped back."
Izuku pinches the bridge of his nose. He says, "Okay. . . Okay, so All Might is retired, Kacchan is a hero who sticks up for quirkless people, and I have a quirk that's helped me become number one."
A hand settles on Izuku's shoulder. The weight of it pulls Izuku back down from his oncoming spiral. It's funny, how the aged version of own hand feels no different from the comfort each of the heroes this week brought. There's a million differences between the man next to him and the boy he is.
"I . . . Sorry, it's just hard to believe this is real," he explains, voice cracking as his eyes sting.
Deku hums. He's staring out at the rain, green eyes unfocused and expression twisted into something Izuku can't begin to understand. Brows furrow, lips purse even as they quirk up at the ends, shoulders curl inwards. He looks so much like his mother then. It could be age that wears them in a way it does not yet for Izuku, or it could be how he's seen that same expression when he catches his mother looking at the photographs on their wall for too long.
"I know," Deku says and it feels to Izuku like the truest part of this week.
After several moments, Deku holds his hand out to Izuku and asks, "May I see your notebook?"
Izuku nods, though the request rings as odd in his head. He pulls his backpack out from behind him, careful note to thrust it into the rain, and digs out his notebook. It's seen its fair-share of use over the last few days, evident in the split of its spine where the future heroes analysis' are.
Deku handles it gingerly when Izuku gives it to him. As he flips through the pages one by one, he says, "When I got to Yuuei, I felt like I was living in a dream. Suddenly, I was becoming a hero, I had friends, and All Might was sneaking me into staff rooms at lunch to give advice for the quirk he gave me. Honestly, I didn't think I deserved any of it."
He pauses on the page with notes on Dynamight. His thumb traces over the name.
"People don't believe in kids like us. They make sure we know it too. It's hard to shake that, and I spent the first few months at Yuuei wallowing in the thoughts they'd forced into me. I was waiting for someone to take it all away, or for me to mess up and lose the best thing I had going for me. It held me back."
Deku pulls a pen out of one of his many pockets when he reaches an empty page. He starts scribbling something down, angled out of Izuku's sight.
"But then my teachers and friends helped me realize something. No matter how many people hurt me, look down on me or tell me I can't do it, at the end of the day it only matters if I believe I can. It's about trusting that whatever I do will be my best effort to help others and make my dream come true. That's what makes a hero."
He closes the notebook and caps his pen before holding it out to Izuku. He says, "And that's why I'm Deku. Like Dekiru, so that anyone who hears my name knows those who may seem worthless can do anything they put their mind to. I give people hope."
Slowly, Izuku takes the notebook back. He stares down at it.
"Why are you telling me this?" Izuku asks.
"Mostly because you need to hear it." Deku moves to his feet. He reaches down to Izuku and smiles so wide that the corners of it reach his eyes and his freckles are swallowed by his crows feet. "Come on. We really should get you to class, if only to say your goodbyes to the others."
Izuku stares at the hand before him, hero glove and all. It beckons him towards a future he doesn't quite understand, one where all he knows is flipped on his head and yet he still comes out on top. A place where he belongs and that glove fits his hand along with the rest of his hero suit. It drags him towards a brilliant smile and wrinkles to speak of its permanence. It wrote him a message he cannot wait to read.
He takes Deku's hand.
-:-
Taiki-sensei doesn't put up a fight in excusing his absence when he sees Deku walk into class with him. A murmur of whispers travel throughout the class while the three students who bothered him earlier sink into their seats.
The rest of the day passes easily. Deku hangs around for most of it, occasionally ducking out of the class to answer a call. Red Riot appears overjoyed to have a friend and gladly drags another desk beside him and Kacchan. When Red Riot gives Izuku a knowing wink, he flushes and tries to hide himself in his textbooks. The sturdy hero only laughs and ruffles his hair. This time, it feels natural.
Other heroes stop by throughout the day. Chargebolt and Dynamight visit together and Izuku has to hold back giggles when the former sits on Kacchan's desk and nearly fried his homework. Dynamight puts him in a headlock and threatens to burn his hair off.
It's odd, Izuku notices as he interacts with more and more heroes, how comfortable he becomes. He sees Uravity high-five Deku, and when she later wraps an arm around his shoulder he gives into the warmth of it. Deku and Earphone-Jack hold onto each other and laugh while Tokoyami has his secrets revealed to the class by Dark Shadow. Earphone-Jack sock Izuku in the arm at one point and he can't help but grin. Deku carries Hitoshi on his back casually in conversation within Shouto while the other sleeps. Hitoshi will rest an elbow on Izuku's shoulder as he yawns, Izuku's chest warm.
There's a familiarity between them all that he wished he'd noticed before. They seek him out and coo over random things he'll say or do, clearly recognizing his habits. A lot more of their past conversations start to make sense. Even the way they act around Kacchan is laced with years of knowledge. Chargebolt knows just what to say to piss him off. On the other hand, Red Riot knows what words calm him down. Pinky nearly sits on his lap before catching herself and backing twenty steps away. Shouto bluntly insults his every move with zero fear, and it's more so amusing that Dynamight only slaps him once for it.
He sees it - the spot they fill in this puzzle. If he had any doubts before, they're erased then. It leaves him fuzzy in his veins, a comforting excitement filling him when he looks on at the friends of his future.
One day, he still wears red shoes but people only focus on the green that encompasses him. One day, he will still ramble and trip on his face but he'll also smile so wide that no one minds. One day, he'll still believe in his ability to be the best hero he can be but others will believe in him too.
Maybe that's what makes him important enough to travel back in time to protect: the belief and hope he'll foster.
Eventually, the last villain is caught and the heroes must leave. They say their goodbyes, some of the friendlier heroes give students hugs, and one by one start to disappear with a click of a button.
Dynamight approaches Kacchan. The latter glares at him, chin held high and fists clenched at his sides. Dynamight's expression is perfectly blank as he flicks Kacchan's forehead and tells him, "Do better."
He's gone before Kacchan has the chance to explode him. Red Riot smiles from where he stands next to Izuku. "Good luck, little dude," he tells Izuku with a fist bump before waving to Kacchan. "Later Bakubro! I promise someday you'll like Dynamight."
The sturdy hero disappears as he slams his hand down on a button on his waist, leaving both boys a little dazed. All that remains are Uravity, Shouto, and Deku.
Uravity approaches Izuku with Shouto by her side. She smiles at him in a way that makes him feel light. With a fist held out to him, she says, "Whatever it is that you want, you can do it. I hope you know that."
His lip wobbles as he nods. "I know. Thank you."
"Thank you ," Shouto corrects.
Izuku flushes and squeaks out, "You're welcome?"
"I love you."
Tongue turning to lead, Izuku stumbles back a step. His blush spreads down his neck and, if he's being honest, all the way to his toes. He's only saved by Uravity thwacking Shouto in the arm.
"Shouto! Be nice to the poor boy!" she reprimands, then throws a gentle look his way. "Don't mind him. He's purposefully being an ass now."
A small smile graces Shouto's features as he admits, "I am. It's amusing."
"Okay, buh-bye jerk," Deku cuts in as he presses the button on Shouto's waist. The hero disappears. Uravity laughs like a mad-woman before Deku says, "You too," and hits her button.
Deku turns and faces the whole class, hands on his hips. Everyone seems to hold their breath, waiting on the final words of the future number one hero.
"Um. Right, well, goodbye?"
Should have expected that, Izuku thinks to himself. After all, a decade isn't enough time to change his speaking skills.
"Wait!" Sasaki yelps. Deku pauses midway through reaching for his button. He tilts his head encouragingly. "You never told us who the important person you were protecting was."
Izuku's breath catches. He waits for the denial, the lie, any of it. Deku merely hums.
"You know what? We weren't going to tell you but since the danger is gone and you'll forget all of this in a minute anyways, why not?" he says. A moment of silence lapses, in which Deku seems to contemplate something. He takes a deep breath, then - "Maybe if you all pulled your cotton stuffed heads out of your bigoted asses you'd have figured it out."
Izuku's jaw drops, and he's definitely not the only one.
"That felt good to say," Deku notes aloud. He reaches up and takes off his mask and hood. "Anyways, it's me. I'm the person we all were protecting."
The exact moment the class puts it together is heard as gasps wash over the room. The green hair, the wide eyes, the freckles - it's impossible to ignore. Izuku can feel the eyes of all his classmates jump to him.
"Welp if that's all," Deku cheerfully announces. He waves. "Buh-bye!"
And he's gone.
Though. . . there never was anyone there?
-:-
Monday feels off. Izuku can't say what it is, just a reason that makes his eyes scan over the empty space between Kacchan's desk and his own. The same reason that drags him to a stop halfway through his walk to school, a nagging feeling that he's meant to meet someone. But, who meets a quirkless kid to walk to school?
The day is slower, much like the weekend which passed by as if time was being held back by a dozen sacks of rocks. His kitchen was empty. This is not unusual. His head kind of hurt. That was mildly unusual. Sometime, when he looked at the hero posters on his wall his heart pounded and his chest thrummed.
He sits in class with energy crackling under his skin. Kacchan yells at him, and so do his goons. He writes down the lecture with a feeling that someone should be whispering in his ear. The teacher calls him out when he's not paying attention. He eats lunch alone though he wonders if anyone will come with him. The taunts that come for him through the window say no one will.
Monday ends with his shoes in a pond and a lonely, wet walk home.
He's missing something.
Two blocks away from the school, he stops to check his bag for all his things. Maybe he left a pencil case behind. It's all there when he looks. However, his hands falter in their digging when he comes across his notebook. It sits not in the furthest back pocket like usual, but the middle, and upside down. A frown tugs his lips down.
He goes to right it when he notices the chunk torn from the middle. Air freezing in his lungs, he yanks it out and flips to the torn pages. There's at least a dozen gone, but they're all after his updated Edgeshot analysis - the last one he remembers entering. The pages that are gone should have been blank.
Izuku thumbs over the rough edge of the tear, brows furrowed. His eyes find the page after them, intact and written over in handwriting that is not his. He reads it, once, twice, three times before tears fall from his eyes and his hands start to shake. He presses the book to his chest and cries.
He's missing something. He doesn't know how it got there, or who wrote it, or why the pages before are gone, but he reads those words and knows they are true.
Monday evening - as he cries on the street in the middle of his walk home with no shoes and so much hope - it starts to rain.
Izuku Midoriya,
You too will become a hero.
I believe in you.