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his mam tries.
Inko tries, she does, but having a kid with issues like him creates some difficulties sometimes, even if he’s in therapy and on medication.
(i love you, i love you, i love you, izuku has thought, staring at his mother as she boils soba and cuts up vegetables. i love you. please look at me.
izuku? she has asked, when she’s noticed him silent like a ghost in the corner of his vision, would you like to help me make food?)
izuku does not think that he is good at hiding things, because he sits and picks at dinner (despite all the times he’s helped, his knife skills still have something left to be desired) while they chat and he stares at the bowl for a very long time, so long the oil on the surface of the soup starts to whiten into something that looks like mold, which makes it ripple like static.
he still finishes it, only if hours later.
(inko asks if he’s alright in a soft tone, while adverts play some sort of nonsense that he can’t decipher, and all he can manage is a shrug, because words won’t come out.
i'm sorry, he thinks. he's too difficult, but that's just what he's become. i'm trying.)
his mam's arms are warm and tight around his body when she hugs him, even though she smells like sakura in autumn and mildew today, reminding him to brush his teeth. things often smell wrong to him. he doesn’t really know what to think of it, so he usually ignores it.
he stares out the window of his bedroom, looking at the park between groups of apartment blocks. there's nobody there; it's pitch black, but he still hears the buses running at the edge of his ears.
there is something out there. there always is.
izuku, it says from far away, do you have an answer?
izuku closes his window and turns away. he curls up in his bed, and falls asleep after only a few hazy, drawn out minutes.
there are never any words between them, not in the morning, mostly because they’re not morning people.
today isn’t the best morning, judging by the way static crawls across his vision, snaking over the stovetop.
(izuku doesn’t know how to say there’s something watching me in a way that doesn't make inko bite her lip.
is there a better explanation? echoes in his head, something that's more likely?
izuku's got things wrong with him, he knows that, but it's just difficult to convince himself that the distant chorus of izuku, izuku, izuku behind him isn't as real as it seems.)
good morning, inko says, at length, her voice croaky in the morning air.
morning, izuku echoes, feeling his throat tighten.
(his head stays empty, despite the way he watches his mother turn the tap on with her quirk, and start to wash up dishes from yesterday.)
(despite how much noise he makes, his head is so often silent.)
mum, izuku whispers into the morning air, as she washes her bowl and he is only partway through his food, the ashy taste of medication rough in the back of his throat, despite the glass of water he's drained. the running of the tap covers up his voice.
mum? he tries again after clearing his throat, and she turns to look at him.
what was work like yesterday?
(this is me trying, izuku wants to scream. this is me trying, please let me listen to your thoughts, who you are.)
the same as usual; paperwork took a while to do. her voice is soft and questioning, like she doesn’t know why izuku’s asking about it. didn’t i say when i came home?
izuku hums, poking at his porridge with a spoon, looking at it closely.
how was sch- how has- mum stumbles, before landing on, what have you been doing?
um, izuku blinks. this is a conversation, right? he just needs to continue it. researching heroes: did you know that wash donated a billion yen last year to a charity for training senior citizens, and that he's helped 10 thousand people get jobs through that one venture?
inko laughs, same as usual then, isn’t it? wash is one of my favourites, he's so cute!
yeah, izuku finds himself agreeing, i guess.
it’s not the same as usual, izuku wants to say. i stopped looking up heroes for months, afterwards. you haven't noticed at all that there's anyone else here.
(she knows there are, izuku tries to remind himself. she knows he knows, because he’s in therapy and has been for months, and he’s broken down to her about it. he just doesn’t get how she doesn’t see it too, on days like this.)
izuku smiles.
have you finished with your bowl yet? you’ll be late soon, izuku. his mother warns.
izuku stands up, grabbing his backpack from the floor. yeah. i’m done.
she leaves the kitchen, and when she picks up the bowl he sees how her face twists, for a moment. she opens her mouth- and then she sighs, before going to throw out the unfinished half of his breakfast.
there’s money on your lunch card, izu, she says. it feels like an olive branch, someone tugging at his sleeve and asking him to try to take just one more step forward. get a snack at school, if you can, okay? your lunch is in your backpack.
yeah, he blurts, yeah- sorry. uh, i’ll try.
he opens the door and rushes out of it, flinching as he accidentally slams the door behind him.
izuku, somebody passing by says, and izuku doesn’t look at them.
if he doesn’t respond, they won’t know he’s there. if he stays quiet enough, they’ll just stay calling into an empty room and not hear them.
(that sounds scary. why do you think you're being chased, midoriya-kun? his therapist had said to him, his eyes soft, can you think of anything more probable?
that i'm paranoid, izuku had mumbled, picking at his hands, but i can hear them.
you've told me about that before. how would you be able to hear them?
he remembers how his mouth had twisted, the way his eyebrows furrowed. with a quirk.
it's a possibility, but can you think of any other reasons?)
it gets busier and busier as he gets closer to the station, and it gets louder and louder. the static snaking around people’s feet looks crunchy, and his eyes keep being drawn to it as he walks.
the voice looking for him says again, clear like a bell in his ear, izuku. have you decided yet?
he can't let them know he's being looked for, because then they'll know he knows, and then-
izuku… the voice near whispers, and izuku looks up from the ground, goes down the steps just as fast as the people around him, steadily keeping pace, before turning and starting to speed walk towards his platform.
(you're okay, izuku. his mum's words echo in the back of his head. you'll be safe, okay?)
midoriya, someone says, and izuku, for a heart stopping moment, thinks he's been found when a hand grabs his shoulder.
midoriya, you walk so fast, shinsō wheezes, did you not hear me? i said your name. don’t abandon me in the subway, i’m clueless.
oh, izuku says after a long moment, while they walk side by side, it was too loud, i think.
(the voices only ever call him izuku; he should know better at this point, and usually he would. today’s just one of those days where he’s on edge, but he’s still fine to go to school.)
shinsō just sighs, and izuku counts it as a win.
izuku, the voice says from behind, from the direction of a passenger. he very carefully does not look at it.
how's the training? izuku finds himself asking, tilting his head at shinsō.
impossible, he groans, my body feels like i've put it through a pasta machine.
izuku can't help but grin. i told you i could come up with a good routine!
i think this is a form of torture.
izuku it hisses again, like a ghost angrily stomping through the passengers lined up all neat in the station, looking. izuku just has to blend in.
we should be quiet, izuku sighs, and shinsō shrugs.
fine by me. i'm gonna get to hear enough of your voice later when you make me train my quirk.
i don't make you, he mumbles with a frown.
yeah, just hang my dreams like a dangling carrot over my head.
izuku has to bite his lip to not laugh: shinsō is very dramatic, but he can hear the train in the distance, rumbling.
it sounds- like something is coming for him.
it's coming for me, he thinks, staring at the ground, the vibrations going through him like he's part of the tracks, it's coming for us.
and you call me dramatic, shinsō mumbles, as the train starts to screech and slow, now in view.
izuku shrugs helplessly. he didn't know he was talking, and he's just glad he didn't say anything bad.
the train slows and the doors hiss open, and a few people go out (and behind them, their shadows whisper whisper whisper izuku, izuku, izuku and izuku very carefully doesn't look at them.)
deku, something behind him says liltingly, and he can't help but clench his fists as he ducks his head and gets onto the train, hoping he's swept away from the voice by the crowd. deku.
i hate the train, shinsō mumbles, there's someone staring at us. and muttering about those wooden dolls.
izuku turns, and sees someone, the bottom half of their face covered with a white mask.
its eyes are fixated on them, brimming with something like static, and it bubbles up the edge of their eyes. shinsō shifts nervously.
izuku gives it a wave, a toothy smile pasted across his lips. he hopes this isn't a person messed up by a hallucination, but it's kind of looking like it, based on the way they start to hunch over.
stop that, shinsō hisses into his ear, i don't wanna get murdered by some-
it stiffens, and izuku watches it look away from them as the static tips from the edges of its tear ducts and all down their cheeks, mask, neck, before it falls through the floor.
izuku sighs. he probably just looked unstable for nothing, then.
shinsō makes a tiny keening noise.
midoriya what was that.
izuku furrows his brow. wait, you could see it?
what do you mean, he whisper-yells, should i not be able to? what kind of alternate reality have i stepped into?
we, izuku corrects thoughtfully, what have we stepped into?
shinsō bites his lip like he's trying to stop himself from screaming.
i think i'm being watched, izuku says, taking off his shoes.
why? inko asks, carefully looking over izuku’s form, has something happened? you’ve gotten home later than usual.
izuku hums.
what was it?
well, izuku starts, and then stops. well…
do you need a minute?
he shrugs, and then nods, sitting down at the table.
he takes a bite of the broiled fish, contemplating. he swallows.
there was someone watching on the train, saying deku.
he frowns, they usually all say izuku.
mum nods, brows furrowed.
but then shinsō-kun- the one i, uh-
the one you train, right?
yeah, izuku nods, he saw it too, and got really freaked out.
inko hums, before slowly saying, that's concerning.
exactly, izuku sighs, i think something's watching, and it's different to usual. they fell through the floor.
inko takes another bite of her rice, her eyes hazy. i'll be honest, izu, she says with a heavy tone, i don't know who to call about this one.
that makes sense… i'll tell one of the teachers, he sighs, maybe they'll have an idea.
his mother seems unconvinced as she nods.
izuku takes another mouthful from his plate.
the house phone rings.
inko sighs, getting up from the table, and looks at it. she presses the button to hang up.
was it hisashi? izuku feels himself ask, distant like he's behind glass. i don't want to talk to him. don't make me talk to him, i don't want him to watch me as well-
arms wrap around him tightly, and mum pats his hair.
you don't have to talk to him, izu. i don't know who that number was; i just didn't recognise it, okay? you don't have to talk to him. you're safe here, okay?
izuku keens.
you hear me, izu?
yeah. nobody- they're not watching.
(izuku, someone outside whispers, have you decided, yet?
izuku has never been able to find out what the hell he is meant to be deciding, but the question haunts him anyway. at least it no longer terrifies him, keep him up at night, trembling.)
there's something watching you, aizawa, his law teacher, says slowly, doubtfully, after izuku rambles at him.
i, um, shinsō-kun can corroborate. he's not got, uh, problems. i think.
i'll ask him to, aizawa half promises, half threatens, as is usual.
thank you! izuku grins, you're not that scary, not really.
aizawa just squints at him.
go get your lunch.
will do, sensei!
i told aizawa-sensei about it, izuku says, as they eat lunch.
what do you mean you- what were you thinking?!
what do you mean? izuku frowns, do you think we can solve this?
(izuku, something in the crowd of students crows. he ignores it the same way you would politely ignore the fact that trees are naked in winter.)
shinsō stays silent.
are you thinking about it?
yeah, he mutters, about how 'crazy boy’ and ‘villain in the making' wouldn't be a marketable duo.
don't call me crazy, izuku frowns, meaningfully stabbing a chunk of tofu in his miso soup, i'm psychotic, if you want to get technical about it.
that sounds worse, actually. someone behind him chimes in.
izuku looks over his shoulder, and sees uraraka hovering unashamedly over his shoulder, her tray tight in her hands.
it might, izuku admits, but it's accurate at least?
sure, midoriya-kun, she says. by the way, shinsō-kun, aizawa-sensei wants you.
i hate this. i’m going to be talked at by my favourite pro hero and it’ll be because of you. shinsō pleads, please stop dragging me into your messes.
you don't hate me though, izuku points out politely, taking a mouthful of food.
i will if you're the reason i met some horrific demonic entity yesterday morning.
izuku mumbles through a mouthful of rice, it wasn't scary.
if you didn't see shit like that every morning, you'd find it terrifying.
i don't see 'shit like that' everyday though. i was wondering if i needed to talk to my therapist about my medication.
you waved at it!
just in case, izuku soothes.
neither shinsō nor uraraka look placated.
what’s 'just in case' supposed to mean? uraraka asks, sitting down with her tray.
izuku shrugs, in case.
uraraka drains her miso soup like it's a shot, and then wipes her mouth and leans forward, getting very close to izuku’s face. i want to study you like a bug.
i can't help you with that, izuku says apologetically. shinsō-kun, you should probably get going.
i hate this, he repeats, grabbing his backpack, i want to stomp on you. like a bug.
oh, izuku frowns, that sounds like it'd hurt.
that's the whole point! shinsō yells, before he stomps away like he's been sent for death.
you must've done some real damage to him, uraraka says with a questioning tone.
i didn't do anything, izuku insists, it's not my fault something was following me!
uraraka hums, unconvinced.
izuku rolls his eyes, pulling out a notebook and tossing it across the table.
can you write in the results of the tests i had you do?
yeah, no problem! she smiles, and starts scribbling in it with a bright pink pen.
go to the teacher's office at break midoriya-kun, kayama says in a quiet tone as he's taking out stuff for her management class, as she leans on his desk.
will shinsō-kun be there as well?
yes, she sighs, i'm sure you know why.
izuku tilts his head, because i'm not reliable testimony for unnatural events?
no, kayama says slowly, it's because he was there with you when it happened.
oh, izuku intones, i guess that makes sense too.
she moves away from his table, speaking up. alright everyone, please take out your essay about hero rankings.
as izuku takes his out of his file, one of his classmates swears under her breath and puts up her hand.
miss, i’m really sorry! i forgot it, can i hand it in tomorrow?
yes, but this is your last warning. kayama shakes a finger at her, the sleeve of the massive jumper she wearing over her hero costume loose around her wrist. does everyone else have their essays?
izuku, someone behind him mumbles, where there’s nobody sitting. izuku does his best to pay it no mind.
so you both saw the figure fall through the floor, aizawa says, sounding like he has a migraine.
yep, izuku shrugs, as shinsō nods quickly.
and you both heard the figure saying deku.
they nod again.
and you both saw the static coming from their eyes.
yeah, izuku and shinsō chorus, the latter significantly more distressed than the former. he feels a little sorry about that, but there's things izuku cannot control and this is one of them.
aizawa sips from his coffee mug.
you're going to need to be interviewed by a detective.
i knew it, izuku whispers, grinning.
i am going to gut you, shinsō hisses, like a fish.
don't threaten each other in my presence.
izuku sighs, dazed, watching static pulse over the wall. wow, i'm gonna have to be so careful to not relapse again.
you say that with that much joy, shinsō grumbles, i don’t get you at all, midoriya.
you’ll be interviewed this afternoon, aizawa says, ignoring the way shinsō’s anger seems to radiate off of his person.
great! izuku grins.
shinsō bangs his head off of aizawa’s desk.
no injuring yourself at my desk, he says, before blinking at them and uttering, get out of the staff room. i’m done with you two for now.
okay! izuku says cheerily, grabbing shinsō’s arm and dragging him behind him.
why are you so strong? shinsō groans, slightly dazed, you’re management. what the hell.
exercise is a good distraction! and i’ve gained weight from my medication, so i’m not so boney anymore!
congrats, shinsō replies dully, in a tone that informs izuku he would like nothing more than to beat him with a baseball bat.
izuku, something not there whispers behind his ear, and he shakes his head reflexively.
the bell rings, and only then does shinsō actually start to carry his own weight and start running.
what if we got uraraka-san to help? izuku asks not so hypothetically, glancing at his phone, as shinsō attempts a pull up.
his wheezy hiss is probably him protesting against that idea.
well, izuku says slowly, what if she may have already gotten herself accidentally involved?
shinsō drops like a rock.
she did what?!
sorry, izuku says apologetically.
izuku calls her, as shinsō hovers over his shoulder.
it only takes one ring for her to pick up.
i see why shinsō-kun was shitting himself, uraraka warbles.
what did you see? izuku asks, genuinely intrigued. he wants to know how close this will be to the hallucinations he gets.
someone just- they were whispering my childhood nickname, right? whispering about ocha-chan, and i thought they were baby-ifying the word tea, and then when i asked if they were okay, they just- their face melted into this sort of static, and they just dropped through the ground! her voice gets faster and faster as she speaks, and she pants when she’s finished.
that’s not very similar to my hallucinations, izuku laments.
you- that’s exactly what happened to us!
izuku, says someone behind him, and he tilts his head. i guess it is what happened, yeah.
i- it’s the exact same! what do you mean, you guess?
izuku ignores shinsō’s rapidly bubbling anger.
are you okay now, uraraka-san?
not really, she laughs, slightly hysterical, but i guess i get to be interviewed as well now.
wait, uh, shinsō blurts, weren’t you out with friends today?
i had no idea, izuku frowns, when did you say that?
at lunch, midori-kun! you weren’t really responding.
oh, yeah, izuku says, not remembering this part of the conversation at all, i was realising how much actually being watched is gonna mess up all the effort of telling me i wasn’t being looked for.
nice. watching out for my personal trainer’s mental health for free. shinsō mumbles.
izuku gasps. i’ve been promoted from a slave driver?!
shut it- shinsō snaps. wait, uraraka, did yaoyorozu or asui see them?
no; i’m on my way home- didn’t wanna get off the train, just in case. in case like, someone was waiting for me to uh, get off or something.
you sound like me now! izuku feels his eyes sparkle, this is so weird! that tsukauchi guy is totally gonna want to talk to you...
we already established that bit, midori-kun, uraraka interjects politely, before wheezing, i can’t believe we all managed to get involved in something this stupid.
is it stupid if your life is potentially in danger? izuku asks quietly, putting a hand to his mouth. his hand, inexplicably smells like blood, even though he hasn’t been near any. he ignores it.
i’ll be honest, midori-kun, uraraka sighs, my class have been put through so much that even though this could be for murder, i’m mostly scared that it’s so horror-like. i can’t stand horror movies.
sorry, izuku mumbles, i might’ve dragged you into one.
uraraka is silent for a long, long moment.
i understand now why shinsō was threatening you so much.
was implies that i’ve stopped, shinsō butts in.
oh, yeah, my bad.
it’s silent for a long moment, and izuku ignores his name being hissed again behind his back.
should i let aizawa-sensei know i’ve managed to get three out of four departments involved?
i think he’ll kill you, shinsō sighs, so yeah. go for it.
so we’ve got some good news, aizawa says slowly, we know that there is, in fact, something actually looking for you, though we don’t know why.
izuku nods solemnly, while uraraka and shinsō pale. he’s sort of known this for a while.
we don’t know what it is; either it’s the effect of a quirk or someone deeply affected by their own quirk.
for the record, izuku starts. he gets interrupted by not just a distant izuku outside of the office door, but also by a person.
i want to catapult you into the sun, uraraka smiles serenely, i will do it if whatever you say next is in some way prophetic.
for the record, izuku continues, undettered, as aizawa wiggles the mouse for his monitor and starts typing, i think it’s a supernatural entity.
it’s going to be a supernatural entity, shinsō whispers, midoriya’s cursed us.
you’re being dramatic, izuku says, supernatural entities you just need to make a method up for and hope it works hard enough, and then it will. like that power of friendship stuff in animes. you don’t actually have to know anything.
aizawa clicks something.
you’re wasting my time now, he grumbles.
shinsō wheezes, standing up. we’ll get going. midoriya, stand up.
okay, izuku says sadly, getting up to follow him and uraraka. fine.
why are you sad now?! he says in a way that could be considered hysterical.
uraraka giggles. the day you learn midori-kun acts like this mostly just to piss you off is the day my crops stop being watered and my family starves.
izuku hums, ignoring the distant echo of izuku behind him.
would you like some ramune, uraraka-san? strawberry flavour?
where’s this coming from?
izuku shrugs. i like the taste of it.
sure, uraraka smiles, let’s go get some! wait, where from?
my backpack, izuku snorts, where else?
a vending machine? shinsō questions. like, literally any cold vending machine.
izuku hums uncertainly. better to be on the safe side!
nobody knows what that means, midori-kun, uraraka sighs, patting izuku on the shoulder.
oh, okay, izuku clicks his tongue. i will then remain an enigma.
good, shinsō mumbles, i don’t wanna know what other tortures you can come up with and christen as training plans.
mum, he whispers, mum, they’re after me. i know it.
inko pours his breakfast out of the pan into a bowl, letting izuku keep his eyes on it.
izuku, he hears, right outside the window, do you have an answer?
izu, you’re going to be okay, his mother says softly, hands on his shoulders. i know there’s something out there, but you can’t let everything become true, okay? there’s nobody trying to hurt you with your food, i promise.
but how do you know?! izuku shakes, weeping, i- i’ll eat it, but- i don’t- um…
do you want me to call your therapist?
he nods, despite the way the phone makes him want to cry. he doesn’t know how they’re listening, what they might be doing, he needs help, he-
inko steps out of the living area to go to her room for his phone.
izuku, something upstairs croaks, and izuku growls at it.
despite the fact he’s just about crying, he grabs a spoon and starts eating his porridge. he does not want to go back to being underweight out of paranoia, because it made him exhausted and didn’t help his thinking make sense.
he manages to finish half the bowl by the time mum comes back with the phone.
i’ve heard that your paranoia has been triggered recently, his therapist’s voice is soft.
i and my two friends are literally being followed by some weird thing that nobody can figure out, he blurts all at once, like a water fountain, and i don’t- they were always like, following me, especially afterwards, but now they really really are, because everyone else sees it too!
what was the afterwards after? he asks, unobtrusive, like felt.
izuku blinks, staring at the kitchen table.
um, izuku starts, i don’t….
it’s okay if you don’t want to answer, or don’t know.
izuku emits a warbly hum.
remember to take care of yourself, midoriya-kun. you need to-
think about other reasons things could be happening. that’s- that’s what i need to do, isn’t it?
it is, his voice is warm, like he’s smiling. get some rest, midoriya-kun; if you need me, feel free to call.
yeah, okay, izuku says softly, and hangs up and puts the phone down.
he stares at the table for a long moment, the way static pools and drips off of the edge of in, in a way that resembles slime.
i’m going to sleep, he announces, standing up from the dining table chair.
sleep well, izu. his mum says from the sofa, if i’m at work and you need me, call my work number and i’ll be there, okay?
she gets up, and hugs him tightly. izuku nods into her arms.
today inko smells like lavender and blood. it’s a confusing mix, but he takes comfort in that this is what his mother is today.
he goes to bed with little fanfare. he stares blankly for several moments, his brain seeming to liquify under the pressure of thought.
izuku, izuku, the window calls, static crawling across his ceiling, breathing into something with life. (they’re watching him, they’re looking for signs that he’s out there.
izuku will have to disappoint them. this is now a self care day, and they won’t find him.)
he closes his eyes, and drifts off in pieces.
he lives! uraraka cheers, running up to the school gate, we were worried; shinsō was really demotivated at his workout yesterday, and- your work should be with kayama-sensei, right? hatsume-chan’s been wanting to talk to you, by the way!
izuku blinks, before tilting his head. what for?
i don’t know, she probably wants her quirkless test subject back or something.
izuku huffs, she can just ask detective tsukauchi to take that role.
how would she- uraraka seems to loads for a few, long moments. i don’t even think she knows he exists, let alone his name.
oh, izuku hums, yeah, i guess not. i'll go visit mei-san, then.
tell about the thing you guys saw, greenie! mei crows the moment he steps into the lab, did it say a childhood nickname and turn staticky and fall through the floor?!
how did you know? izuku asks, squinting at mei, have you been-
nah, i just encountered it myself; i’ve got some ideas of how to contain it!
oh, izuku says quietly, i’ve managed to drag all four school departments into this now.
as you should! mei says proudly, i’m glad you’re less paranoid now, greenie! it’s been a long while since i’ve seen you camping out in my shed!
i know, right? izuku grins, i had a bit of a relapse earlier this week, but look at me now! i’m kicking!
izuku kicks the leg of the table mei’s working on, and does not expect the pile of metal on it to try and kill him.
mei-san! he wheezes, why’s that so unstable?!
it’s scrap, you dimwit! she yells back, unearthing him out of the pile, she pulls him out as he kicks pieces off of his legs.
why are you in here, midoriya-kun? majima asks him with a tone that sounds close to the edge of its tether, you nearly gave yourself a concussion, and you’ve been in here for two minutes.
mei-san said she needed me!
it’s mei-chan, mei retorts, bonking him on the head.
majima sighs. have you gotten what you needed yet, hatsume-kun?
nearly! mei grins up at him, before turning back to izuku.
did you encounter it on a train, and do you think we can lure it that way?
uhm, izuku ponders, probably. uraraka-san was on a pretty empty train, and i was on a busy one. it was on the same line, though; it could be one specific train.
mei’s teeth gleam in the light. there’s a reason you’re one of my favourites, greenie.
majima sighs, slumping on his desk. are you done interrogating midoriya-kun?
yes! mei nods sharply, see you later, partner!
whenever we next meet we’ll take down these forces, izuku nods to himself, stepping out of the classroom, letting the massive, iron doors clunk shut behind him.
they have a plan. now he just has to get everyone else in on it.
oh, hell no, is shinsō’s response to being used as bait.
yours is the only nickname that it hasn’t said! izuku protests, and i’ll feed you!
shinsō swallows his rice.
i’m considering it. he says, slowly. what other forms of payment can you offer?
izuku stares at the table for a long moment, watching the table surface attempt to drip onto the floor.
travel, he says, hitting his left palm with his right fist, and looking up at him.
shinsō stares at him for a long moment, before holding out a hand.
sold. he says. then he adds quietly, i feel so cheap.
it’s not a negative! izuku grins, good to do business with you!
he high fives his hand.
mei squeals.
uraraka splutters as shinsō’s mouth drops open.
midori-kun… was that not meant to be handshake?
oh, izuku hums, i guess it looked like one, yeah.
the table is silent for a long moment.
is saturday afternoon, evening and night good for everyone? izuku blurts.
and with that, they have a plan.
going on the same train line over and over is gonna drive us mad, uraraka laments, sitting in an empty carriage, kicking the floor.
speak for yourself, shinsō mumbles through his mouthful of pizza.
eat with your mouth closed, she grumbles, midori-kun, please get off the floor.
izuku stays sat on the floor next to one of the carriage doors, staring very firmly across the train.
it’s the best view here, he insists, a notebook in his lap and a pen clutched in his hand.
speaking of, izuku calls out politely, let’s look at the floor now.
hoshi, something whispers. izuku can’t help but think that star is a very cute nickname.
hoshi, it hisses again.
i wanna go home, uraraka whispers in a warbling tone, can we go home?
not yet, izuku says with an apologetic tone. mei-san, do you have the device?
it’s chan, she grumbles, i have it, obviously.
shinsō-kun, have you laid the trap on the floor? and is it three seats away from you?
yeah, he says in a small voice, this is horrific.
a bit, izuku admits, looking up at the thing. its form seems so hollow, like the clothes it wears are the only thing that give it shape. its eyes, unnaturally wide, peer around, and it seems alert even with the static filling them.
the moment the figure hits the centre of the net device, izuku grins.
shinsō-kun, he smiles, would you do the honors?
he looks up from the ground, sweating, cheeks pale and sallow under the bright light of the train.
(izuku, something outside the train mutters, do you have an answer?)
hello, he says in a shaky tone, would you mind-
the figure half sinks through the floor, its clothes evaporating the moment they hit the net,and when its chest hits the electrodes it lets out a tiny, tiny chokes gasp.
izuku stares at it as the static puckers like cigarettes on plastic.
uraraka chokes, and mei breathes in sharply.
press the button please, mei-san, izuku says quietly, as it continues to wrinkle, the shell of its being creasing like tissue paper.
uh huh, she wheezes, and then it’s gone, something like a mechanical swallow or gritty breath echoing across their compartment.
izuku dusts off his hands.
i think we’re done! he smiles, can you close it and turn off the vacuum?
of course, mei says, her tone unsettled.
they stay silent for a long moment.
is it just gonna stay in that can? uraraka asks slowly, eyeing it as the noise of a burst pipe shuts off.
i hope so, izuku mutters, whatever it is, it’s bothered us enough. and i called it! it was supernatural, suck on that aizawa-sensei!
yeah, shinsō says distantly, you doomed us.
i think i’m gonna have nightmares about this, uraraka whispers, how did you even come up with that?
izuku offers a hand to each of them, gently lifting them up onto their feet one by one and patting their shoulders as he rambles. well, it’s got to have energy somehow so if we could make an electric field that was kind of scuffed then maybe i’d be able to disrupt the way it worked....
this was fun, shinsō admits after izuku manages to get them all settled. even if kinda screwed up.
yeah, like a low stakes mission, uraraka admits with a small grin, i hate horror so much though, and this is like- my worst nightmare. i don’t want a repeat of this like, at all.
good to know! izuku smiles.
being creative was fun! mei smiles, maybe not for more things like this, but i wanna create more super specialised babies!
izuku blinks. so, in short, more adventures, less freaky stuff.
izuku can’t help but laugh at their bewildered expressions, even as static makes it seem like the map on the ceiling is moving with them.
we put it in a container! mei says proudly.
shinsō and uraraka stand in silence, looking slightly haggard and traumatised.
how, aizawa half asks, half says, staring at the can in her hands like it's an explosive about to go off.
it could be a bomb, honestly.
izuku, something whispers, and izuku brushes it off.
izuku can’t help but word vomit. it turns out that the entity didn't actually follow basic laws of physics and honestly shouldn't have been staying together-
yes, aizawa says slowly, but how did you get it in the can?
what's more interesting is how it's being kept in it!
right, he says in that slow, exhausted way that adults often talk when they have given up trying to understand, in that can, is there a sentient being?
there could be! mei says with a wobbly grin, it knew my childhood nickname and midori’s and gravity girl’s and even brainwash’s-
i’ll rephrase. is there a person in that can that needs a fair trial, or have you put a ghost in it.
oh, this is absolutely isn’t mortal, if that’s what you’re asking, izuku speaks up, like, it wasn’t- i think it would need about seven quirks to pull all of its tricks off.
aizawa stares at their group for a long, long moment.
put that can on a shelf, he says, or better yet, a safe. i never want to deal with the contents again.
you got it! izuku chimes, and his friends nod frantically.
they don't really want to deal with the contents again either.