"Don't you find it odd," she continued, "that when you're a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you're older, somehow they act offended if you even try."

-Ethan Hawke

Seven Months Later

Izuku didn't like lying to his mom.

Something had always, always felt unnatural about it – about lying in general, to be honest. One of the few things he and Kacchan had ever shared as children was their proclivity for blunt honesty. Too many things to share, too many curiosities and observations racing through his mind, and too little tact to hold back from sharing them with a world that didn't need nor want to hear them.

He'd grown out of that bad habit mostly, but with Kaa-san—she knew how he was, knew that even when things didn't come out quite the way he intended that he didn't mean any harm. So he could just talk and talk and talk and she would listen and there had always been something so freeing, so comforting about knowing he didn't need to censor himself.

But sometimes he had to.

Little things, mostly, that he'd been keeping up for years. Oh, Kacchan? Well he's been so busy with school and I think his parents enrolled him in some after school activities, so that's why he doesn't come around anymore! The bruise on his chin? He tripped over the barrier at the bus stop. His phone? Oh, he'd dropped it on his way home from school and he was so sorry-! He must have misplaced his school blazer, he'd replace it with his own pocket money, don't worry! Yeah, no, he ate on the way home.

What? Of course he was fine. He was doing great.

He was happy. He was content.

Izuku needed her to think that, needed, with every ounce of his being, that semblance of normality. Needed to know it wasn't him and his multitude of mistakes that were adding on to the vast mountain of stress Kaa-san already had to deal with. He was old enough now to take care of himself.

But outside of his—his white lies and his deflections, he still preferred to be honest. He was terrible at lying when asked a frank, yes or no question, always had been – he was so lucky that his mom trusted him enough to take him at face value.

she was too good for him

all he ever did was ruin everything he touched

Izuku knows she doesn't do the same. And that's—that's okay. He understands, has always tried to understand where she is coming from. He can understand the desire to protect someone from an uncomfortable truth, so how could he be angry when she lies about rent? About how she's feeling? About what the doctor said at the last visit?

He would do the same. He does the same.

Izuku loves his mother more than anything in the world, and knows she loves him just as much.

So the simple things, when she had the energy to ask? He was usually up front. Yes, he did stay up until 4am watching a documentary and he is very, very sorry (to have disturbed her). He'd actually forgotten to do his math homework so he was going to be late coming home tomorrow because he'd been assigned extra cleaning duties at school. Yeah, he accidentally managed to burn the small saucepan, and he will definitely replace it himself and he is very sorry.

Its—freeing, to be open with her.

Until suddenly he can't be.

It's not exactly rare for Kaa-san to be awake when he gets home from training, but it is uncommon – especially as the winter months come to an end and the rain begins to pick up. She almost always stays in bed when it rains, the change in pressure doing nothing to ease her already aching joints.

So when he opens the door long after the sun has set, calls out a half-hearted, "I'm home!" while toeing off his shoes, tired and sluggish, he's startled to hear her answer his call.

"Welcome home!"

"Kaa-san?" Izuku's eyebrows furrow as he walks down the hallway – the kitchen light is on, painting the carpet a light beige rather than its usual dark brown. As he peeks around the corner he sees her, pale-face and purple lips, sitting at the table with a half-full mug of tea and a well-loved book in front of her.

She looks exhausted – she always looks exhausted, deep bags under her eyes and an ever present sallowness to her skin, but her smile is gentle. Her expression is warm. Izuku can't help but return it, his face lighting up as he walks into the room.

"What are you doing up so late?" He wonders, setting his backpack down on the counter and absently checking the kettle – still mostly full.

Inko hums slightly, dog-earing the page she's on before closing the book with a muted thump. "I woke up a little while ago and couldn't fall back asleep – I thought I'd wait up for you to get back so I could say goodnight."

Izuku can't help but wince slightly at that – if he'd known she was waiting-! But Yagi already took so much time out of his day, he couldn't imagine asking the man to cut their sessions short, even if only on certain occasions. It seemed so… ungrateful.

"Ah, I'm sorry I stayed out so long then! I didn't mean to keep you up." He attempted to apologize, but Kaa-san merely looked unimpressed.

"You weren't keeping me up, silly! I'm up because I want to be. We haven't had time to sit and talk for a while after all." She tutted. Her words were light, but—something in her tone caused him to turn around from where he'd begun pouring himself a cup of tea.

His mom looked… contemplative, was perhaps the word for it.

Had they really not talked in so long? Between the training-induced exhaustion and the beginning of the new term, the days had begun to blur together – when was the last time he'd had a meal with her? The last time they'd watched tv together?

Guilt gnawed at him, harsh and sharp.

"Kaa-san, I'm so sorry—" He began, only for her to shush him softly and pat the seat beside her. Hesitantly, shoulders hunched, he did, hands wrapped tightly around the cup he set in front of him.

Kaa-san reached a hand over, petting his hair softly before pausing, letting out a soft sigh. There was a moment of silence before the woman spoke.

"Izuku, you know I love you," She began – the few words enough to make the younger boy tense, anxiety spiking. "And you know that you can tell me anything, right?"

Like he imagined any teenage boy would be in this situation, Izuku felt half-ready to jump out the nearest window to avoid it.

Oh god what did she know? He'd been so careful and Kacchan hadn't even looked in his direction in weeks, let alone laid a hand on him. He hadn't left any blood in the sink or burned clothes in the laundry basket and he was pretty sure she hadn't caught him limping last week after managing to twist his ankle doing suicides on the beach. Was there something else? Was he acting suspicious? Did she think something was off about him? Was he doing something wrong?

"I- I know that!" Izuku denied after a pregnant pause, shoulders tensed. His mom just… looked at him for a moment, her expression an unsettling combination of heartfelt and worried. He hated worrying her.

he should've just jumped—

The middle schooler is startled from his self-deprecation by the sound of the kitchen chair sliding back, Kaa-san moving to stand. He had a brief moment of worry that he'd somehow upset her or made her angry but—but no, that was stupid. He knew that was stupid, Kaa-san was always willing to talk.

Still, his eyes didn't leave her as she walked over to the counter. Each dull slap of her slippers against the tile made him bunch up smaller and smaller, half-hoping he could make himself so small that he'd just disappear into himself and cease to exist.

No such luck though.

The drawer under the microwave opened with a groan of complaint, followed by the rifling of papers. Izuku felt like he was beginning to go insane with conspiracy theories – had he done something wrong at school? Were his grades slipping? Had one of his classmates blamed him for something again?

For better or worse, his desperate curiosity was relieved when the woman found what she wanted, turned around, and placed it gently on the table.

Izuku's heart dropped.

Sitting there, unopened, was none other than a large envelope, and blazoned clearly on its font was none other than the emblem for UA.

"Oh." He whispered.

It was quiet, for a moment, Kaa-san moving to sit back in her seat. Neither of them said a word – he could feel his mom watching him, hear her sipping absently from her mug of tea, but couldn't bring himself to look up. To say a word.

He'd—he'd never planned for this conversation. He'd known, eventually, he would have to tell his mom what school he was planning to apply to, but that had always been something down the line! When he had all his statistics and facts in hands to convince her that with scholarships it wouldn't actually be much more expensive than any of the nicer schools around here and that this was a great opportunity and he promised, he promised that he could do it.

When he'd gotten around to telling her that he still wanted to be a hero.

There is a twinge of something dark in the back of his mind, from the place he tries desperately to forget exists. It's bitter and acidic and every word it whispers leaves behind a residue he can never quite seem to shake.

She had to choose today of all days to leave the house?

Its followed immediately by shame. He should be happy that she felt well enough to do so, not—not be resentful because it inconvenienced him. What kind of horrible son was he? What kind of awful person? This was his fault.

"Izuku," Kaa-san began before cutting herself off, hesitant. He steeled himself as she began again. "Why didn't you say anything about applying to UA?"

"I haven't applied." He replied, the words spilling from his lips without much thought. He hadn't, actually – this was probably the information packet regarding the courses he'd requested a couple weeks back. As much as he respected his mentor, All Might wasn't always the… best with remembering the details, especially about the courses he himself hadn't attended.

Kaa-san's lips pursed. "But you're going to? Izuku, where did this come from? I thought you'd—you'd…" She trails off, but Izuku can tell exactly where he train of thought had been heading.

"I thought you'd given up."

And maybe he had. But not on being a hero, not since someone had looked at him, had believed in him, and that he had—that he had potential, to do good, to change lives-!

His mother loved him more than anything in the world, but—

She had never really believed in him. In his dreams.

"I'm so sorry Izuku, I'm so sorry!"

"Does this… does this have something to do with whose been training you?" And Izuku choked.

"The- the what? No one's been training me!" He protested, face pale and eyes wide. "I've—why do you think someone's training me?"

Where had he messed up!? He'd been trying to be so careful—Yagi was going to be so disappointed—

Kaa-san cleared her throat slightly, looking about as comfortable with the conversation as her son felt. "And no ones been buying the groceries, then, either?"

Immediate alarm, because he hadn't thought she would notice-!

"I- I, mean—"

His mom leaned across the table, sliding a hand forward – her knuckles were discolored, her nails bitten. Even so, he reached his own out, trying desperately to keep it from shaking.

"Baby, I just need to you to talk to me. To tell me what's going on." She implored. Izuku chanced a glance up, only to jolt as he saw the sheen to her eyes – he'd inherited his tearfulness from her, after all. "Are you in trouble? Are… You aren't being… hurt, are you?"

And it was that, that, the notion that All Might, that Yagi Toshinori, the man who had looked at little, insignificant and quirkless Midoriya Izuku and lifted him up, gave him the power to help-! The idea that his hero could have ever, in a million years done something to wrong him, to hurt him, was beyond contemplation.

"Wh- No! No, he'd never hurt me!" Izuku denied, voice raising slightly. Kaa-san's hand twitched underneath his own.

"Him? So there is someone then?"

Oh god no he hadn't meant to say that-! "He's – he's just been helping me with some exercises. It's nothing!"

"Izuku there is 3,000 yen beef in the fridge! This man is obviously not just helping out a little bit!" And at that, the boy sputtered because what!? Ever since their conversation a few months prior, Yagi had made good on his decision and had been showing up to their workouts one a week with bags of groceries in tow, but he'd had no idea that he'd been—been wasting his money on Izuku, buying such extravagant things! He'd have to—to find a way to pay him back, Kami that was so much money-!

"Just talk to me! Please! I just want to understand." Kaa-san begged, moving to grasp his hands between both of hers. Her skin was chilled next to his, but the motion comforted him regardless.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to, he did, with every ounce in his body, but it wasn't his secret to tell.

"I-I—" But he had to tell her something—"He thinks I might have a quirk!" Izuku blurted out, regret immediately setting in because oh god that is not what he meant to say at all.

Kaa-san immediately stiffened in her seat, her eyes darting around his face. "Izuku…" And he recognized that tone.

"He's—I know it sounds bad, but he's not—he's not manipulating me or anything! He has legitimate reasons! I looked into it!"

"Izuku, your toe joint—"

"There's not much precedent for that, okay, but in regards to activation based quirks, there is a—there is a statistical probability that suggests that it can actually be—"

"None of the specialists we went to ever found any sign—"

"There is still so much that we don't know about quirks! They could have easily missed something, or there are markers that we still don't know to look for, that's why there are still cases of people not manifesting quirks until their teenage years or even older-!"

"You can't honestly believe-!"

"He believes in me!" Izuku wasn't quite sure when his voice had begun to raise, and when his mom's had as well. Can't remember when he let go of her hand, when he began to stand. Didn't know when his eyes began to sting, when he began to argue this- this whole false conversation so enthusiastically, but what he did know was this.

"You can be a hero."

Kaa-san looked visibly shaken, her eyes wet and glassy even in the dim kitchen lighting. She opened her mouth only to close it again. "Izuku…" She whispered, pained.

Izuku swallowed, looking pointedly away from her direction, trying to swallow back his own tears. "Kaa-san he really, really thinks I can do it. That I can be a hero. I…" He steeled himself before glancing up, meeting eyes that matched his own. "I want to try. Please."

For a moment, the room was quiet; the only audible noise that of muted commercials filtering through the thin walls connecting them to the apartment next door. It felt as though neither of them were even breathing, too afraid to be the first to break the palpable silence.

But slowly, Kaa-san let out a deep breath and opened her arms, beckoning him forward with the furrow of her brows alone. Izuku could have wept with relief as he walked over, nearly throwing himself into her embrace.

His mom smelled liked laundry detergent, lilac shampoo, and a faint chemical tang that never seemed to fade. She smelled like home.

The stress in his stance began to ebb as she shakily started to pet his curls, her uneven nails catching slightly in the stray strands. He didn't think he could hold back his tears at this point if his life depended on it – slowly but surely he dampened the fabric on her shoulder.

"Oh Izuku, I'm so sorry." Kaa-san spoke, her voice wavering. "I—I believe in you, I do. I love you more than anything. I've just… I've always been so afraid. You're my everything and heroics are… baby, they're so dangerous. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't, Kaa-san. I promise." He whispered into her embrace. And he wouldn't – he'd never planned of making her experience his death. That's why he was going to wait; he'd follow her, rather than the other way around. Everyone would be happy then. There wouldn't be anyone alive to miss him.

but maybe Yagi-san-?

but no, it was better not to hope.

She believed in him. Just the thought—even if she was telling another one of her white lies, just the idea that she would support him even if she didn't really think anything would come of it—

He didn't want to lie to her. He wanted her there, with him, as he fought. Wanted to know he could come home to her.

what was he going to do without her?

"W-Why don't we sit, and finish our tea, and you can tell me more about… about what you want to do?" Kaa-san announced after another quiet moment, stepping back and looking down at him, her smile slightly strained on her face. Izuku nodded, quickly swiping away at the remaining dampness on his cheek before forcing his own small smile in her direction.

The next few minutes passed quickly, in a flurry of chairs scraping against the tile and the sound of a spoon clinking against the edge of a mug. By the end of it, the two of them were in position similar to the ones they had begun in – both grasping steaming cups of tea, staring uncomfortably at one another, an untold tension still lingering in the air between them.

"So," She begins. "UA."

Izuku coughed slightly, having chosen to take a sip at an inopportune moment. "Right!" He responded, wincing as his voice cracked. "Right, um. I'm just—that letter was just the materials I requested, I think? But I… I want to apply this winter. I've been looking into a lot of the scholarship applications as well."

Kaa-san took a slow sip from her mug, her expression contemplative. "How are you planning on doing this?" She wondered. "Even… ah, even if you do have a quirk like your… mentor," He could almost hear the air quotes around the word mentor. "-believes, are you sure you can use it in the exam?" She fretted.

This, at least, was an easy question. "Oh, I'm applying for General Education!"

Seven Months Prior

"There's no way you'll ready to receive my quirk in time for the entrance exam."

The words seemed to linger in the air for a moment after they were uttered, swimming around without ever quite reaching him – he could see Yagi looking at him expectantly, waiting for a response. He knew—he knew that he needed to say—something. To assure the man who had already done so much for him that that was perfectly fine, but—

Izuku couldn't force the words out.

The middle-schooler was not unfamiliar with panic. It always seemed so—petty, maybe, to sit and try to put names to all the things wrong with him. He knew he was a screw up, a waste of space, prone to ruining everything he touched. He knew that! He was well aware!

So looking at himself and everything wrong with him and trying to apply words like—like anxiety, and depression, seemed… Wrong. Like he was making for excuses for himself. He wasn't sick, his mom was sick, All Might was sick – and its not that he didn't think they were real disorders-! Just that, they were for people who couldn't help it.

Izuku should be able to. He just didn't try hard enough. He couldn't blame anyone but himself.

But somethings were easier to deal when you had a tentative name for it. A quick google search can give anyone a list of symptoms of an anxiety attack: heart palpitations, increased sweating, difficulty breathing—a dozen terms that all sounded so—sterile.

As Izuku sat there on the sand, staring blankly into the sunken eyes of his hero, it felt like anything but.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe but he absolutely could not let Yagi know. Kami, he'd already come so close to losing his mentor and his only chance at ever actually accomplishing anything in his short fucking life and what would he do if the man saw how broken he was and how messed up and just turned him away and he'd have to go home and cut his wrists in the bathtub so that he'd never have to wake up again and face the fact that he'd ruined everything again and hehadonlyhimselftoblame-!

Breathe. Forcefully, with every ounce of self-control he had, he breathed. Izuku felt his lungs inflate and deflate.

He just had to pretend he was in front of Kaa-san, or in class – places where nobody could see his panic. He just had to keep it in inside, lock it up, and deal with it later.

Izuku channeled the child who'd spent so much of his childhood forcing happiness in front of the mirror and let a small, exhausted smile spread across his lips.

"O-Oh!" His voice cracked slightly and he winced, hoping the man would think it was from exhaustion, maybe, rather than nerves.

he wanted to go home-

Yagi's brow furrowed slightly as he lowered his hands down to his hips, peering at his young charge. "Are you all right my boy?"

Izuku swallowed and bobbed his head. "I'm fine!" He was fine. He had no choice but to be fine. He could be not-fine later. Later. Not now.

Oh god he was going to throw up in front of All Might again.

The hero looked him over for a moment, lingering, before he shrugged slightly. "We'll have to rework the schedule, but this might actually be for the best. We were already pushing it with our current timeline – there's much less chance of you, oh, losing a limb this way!" The grin across his gaunt face did not mesh particularly well with his ending statement, and were it any other scenario Izuku would have a fair few things to say about losing a limb-!?

But another part of Yagi's proclamation caught his intention instead, and he blinked up at the man, startled.

"You're still going to give me your quirk?" He asked, the anxiety twisting in his chest lessening minutely; he could—maybe he could fix this, could do better.

The older man was visibly taken aback. "What? Why wouldn't I?"

"But I won't be enrolled in a heroics school! Isn't that illegal?" Izuku knew for a fact that it was, in fact, illegal, and had been since Saito vs. Japan was established some twelve years prior.

Saito Mayu had been a second-generation pro hero who was arrested after her protégé – a young man with a kinetic quirk, accidentally demolished the public building they were training in. Saito had argued it was legal because she was training the man to be her sidekick, but it was almost unanimously agreed that no one but those licensed – be it in teaching or quirk counseling – could coach minors in that matter.

Izuku couldn't imagine a single universe in which Yagi, in which All Might, number-one-hero, beacon of light and paragon of morality, would ever flaunt the rules like that – and he knew that the man probably could. Who could say no to The All Might, after all?

But Izuku… Izuku wasn't worth that. Wasn't worth the effort, wasn't worth the struggle, or the inconvenience.

he ruined everything he touched

Yagi's confusion was palpable as he glanced down at his hunched form. "Who said you weren't going to a heroics school?"

"But you said I wouldn't be ready for the entrance exam!" Izuku exclaimed, voice shaking slightly even as his words came out louder than intended. "I'm- I can't—there's no way I could—could possibly pass without…!"

Humiliation was a familiar friend, and he could feel it's grasp start to take hold as he stumbled, struggling to say exactly what he meant.

Quirkless.

There's no way somebody quirkless could ever be—could ever enter the heroics course.

"It's not bad to dream, but you have to be realistic."

"Of course not!" All Might responded, a wide grin spreading across his face.

of course not-

of course he can't do it-

"A hero without a quirk you say?"

"—but UA has more than just a heroics course, my boy!" Yagi finished. For a moment, Izuku could do little more than stare blankly up at his hero, the lump is his throat making it difficult to speak.

"You… want me to enroll as… support?" He questioned, voice hesitant. Surely that's not what the man meant? Izuku had nothing but respect for support heroes, but he'd never been very mechanically inclined. He was much better with data and analysis. But… but if it would let him be a hero, he supposed he could… he could learn—

(His dad had always liked to tinker – trying to fix the microwave, or the AC.)

(He wasn't allowed to help anymore. After his diagnosis.)

All Might snorted—actually snorted – and then choked slightly, shoulders hunching as he coughed into a clenched fix. The middle schooler flinched, hands tensing at his sides and he glanced around for his backpack in a practiced, near pavlovian-response to the sound. There hadn't been too many occasions since the first that the man had really struggled but Izuku assumed that was because he wasn't particularly active when they were together, preferring to hitch a ride on his Segway or find a random piece of junk to perch on.

Guilt felt remarkably like nausea.

it was his fault—

Thankfully, though, this fit didn't last too long and the man was wiping specks of blood on his track suit within a minute or so, grimacing as he rolled his shoulders until they let out an audible pop. "Sorry about that my boy."

"I-it's fine! Do you need a water bottle?" He'd been keeping a few stashed in his backpack for emergencies.

"Ah, no. I'm, ah, fine. Where were we?"

"Me enrolling in support…?"

"Right!" Yagi clapped his hands together, the sound jarring enough that Izuku couldn't hold back a wince, his head letting out a dull throb. "That's not the plan. You, my successor, will be enrolling in general education!"

He wasn't quite sure whether it was the dehydration or his fainting spell from earlier, but something about this conversation felt like it was muddled, muffled – like it was being spoken in a language he knew he had learned but couldn't quite remember. The middle-schooler struggled to spin the pieces together in a way that made any kind of sense – what was he missing?

"But—but you can't get a heroics license from that department!" And Izuku would know, as he had most certainly looked.

He'd considered it at one point, following his last session with the school counselor. It was the one UA department that didn't actively have quirk evaluations, and Izuku—he wasn't stupid, he knew—he knew that even though the handbook didn't explicitly forbid the quirkless from attending, it wasn't really… it wasn't really an option for him. So Gen Ed was possibly the only one he'd have the slightest chance of realistically getting access to.

It always felt more like a punishment than just going to a completely separate school, every time he thought about it.

Just… watching. The years passing by as everyone around him completed his dreams.

Knowing he never would.

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head when you fell?" Yagi asked, a lightness to his tone that took out any bite the words could've held. Something in them caused Izuku to give, slightly. It was how the man usually sounded when they were working, with no sign of his earlier disapproval.

he never wanted to see that look on his hero's face ever again—

He needed to calm down, he was being dramatic. It was okay, he was okay, spiraling didn't help anything.

He just needed to breathe.

"You can't get a license in Gen Ed, but you can transfer from it to other courses!" Yagi finished, mindless of his student's internal monologue. "It's rare, but it does happen, depending on how the students do in the sports festival."

Something that felt remarkably like hope flickered in his chest, but Izuku was hesitant to give it room to grow. He wrung his hands in his lap, shoulders hunching as he met Yagi's eyes for a moment before glancing away.

He was loathe to argue, but—"I've never read anything in the handbook regarding that, or seen any accounts of it in the forums-?" Izuku winced – he hadn't meant for it to come out so questioning.

Yagi-san froze for a moment before giving him a sheepish grin, scratching absently at his nose. "Well it is pretty rare. I know it's happened before, but it's not something you see often."

Oh no.

"Y-Yagi-san, um, how many people have, uh, transferred this way?"

There was a brief moment of silence as the two stared at one another; the older man was the first to break, letting out an awkward cough and glancing away.

"…I can think of, ah, two. Off the top of my head."

"Wh—two, ever!?" Izuku choked, spine straightening. "The school has been around for almost eighty years!"

"Well, yes! But nothing is impossible when you put your mind to it!" The hero decreed, flashing one of the smiles that Izuku had begun to mentally file into the 'All Might' category versus the 'Yagi' one – wider, showing more teeth, but with less squinting of his eyes. Yagi was a lot less… not enthusiastic, exactly, so much as energetic, when he wasn't in his heroic form. Like he wasn't trying so hard, maybe? And it showed in the way he held himself, and the way he emoted.

And, as Izuku had slowly discovered over the last month, that the man reverted to being All Might when he was nervous. Like when Izuku had managed to cut his hand on an old fridge and had a brief breakdown when he was convinced he'd gotten tetanus or when he'd almost-drowned on a particularly rough day swimming laps.

In that moment, his hero's ever-comforting smile was anything but.

"But I'm—the sports festival is against the whole grade! Who've all had their quirks since birth, and—and I bet most of them will have received some kind of combat training and, and—" The deluge of word's fell from his lips, stuttered and difficult to follow.

"Come now, there's no time for excuses! Do you want to be a hero or not?"

Izuku wanted.

"I do-!" He protested, only to be cut off.

"Then have faith in yourself my boy! Bring out that heroic spirit of yours! What's UA's motto, after all?"

But All Might didn't understand—

"Plus Ultra?"

That there was nothing to have faith in—

"Are you asking me?"

"Um, no! No, sorry, plus ultra!"

Because in the end, no matter what-

"Come on, put your scrawny little back into it!"

"Plus Ultra!"

"There you go, my boy! Now come on, lets get you home before you pass out on me again. We can rework the schedule and the diet tomorrow morning."

Anything, anything worthwhile about him—

"Y-yes, sir!"

"What did I say about the sirs?"

Had come from All Might himself.

"Oh, I didn't know that you could transfer to different courses!"

"Ah! Its um. Yeah, they don't really advertise it, haha!" She didn't really need to know how rare it was, did she? "And if I do have a quirk like Yag- like, um, my trainer thinks I do, then I should have enough of a grasp to do a good showing?"

Kaa-san paused for a moment, her eyes darting over his features, searching; Izuku tensed, spending a moment just… waiting. If she said no there—there really wasn't anything he could do. It's not like he could fake her signature on all of his admission papers, and honestly the thought of going behind her back like that kind of made him want to vomit.

If she said no—he'd have to stop.

go back to waiting to die

he didn't want to say goodbye

No more early morning training sessions where he was half convinced his lungs were going to shrivel up and die, where each step was followed by called encouragements and half-joking admonishments to pick up his knees. No more need to carry tissues and water bottles in his bags, and maybe a bit of hydrogen peroxide just in case Yagi-san got blood on his shirt again. No more lunch breaks and quiet conversations and the occasional goodnight texts.

Please, Kaa-san—

"Alright. I can see how much this means to you – I can't even remember the last time I saw you so passionate, honey." She began, tapping her finger idly against the placemat. "And—I want you to be happy, Izuku. I want you to follow your dreams. I'll help you as best as I can—"

His heart leapt, oh kami there was no way, she was really going to let him apply!?

"-On one condition."

And then his heart stopped. Oh god.

"W-What condition….?" He squeaked, hands twisting in the fabric of his athletic pants.

"I want to meet this mentor of yours."

HEY IM NOT DEAD. It's been what, six, seven months? The only excuse I can give is that I am now in my senior year of college and it is, in fact, kicking my ass. I promise I will let you guys know if this fic is dead for real, but otherwise I'm probably going to continue posting pretty sparsely, sorry ):

This chapter was very difficult to write! It's that kind of awkward point between the first part of the series and then getting into UA (which will begin next chapter). I was dragging my feet a bit with it, but I do like how it turned out. I've been excited to start diving more into Izuku and Inko's relationship! And how as much as he loves her, there is that kind of underlying resentment because she didn't support his dreams and, even if its not her fault, She Isn't There. I can't wait to poke at it more in the future!

Song of the Chapter: "Fine on the Outside" - Priscilla Ahn