Chpt 7: Projection, Perception, (Ap)prehension.

A/T: Eyes are the Windows of our Soul… Do our Stains (Scars) make us unique?

Before you read: This story is about to get a bit darker than before. During the therapy portions, mentions of child abuse, death, and rape are addressed. If discussion of these topics may be a problem please tread carefully.

Izuku heard the beginnings of it a block away. Notes fluttered through the air like dying moths, pouring out of the apartment building's upper levels and the stairwells like a thin sheen of oil. A fresh headache bloomed at the base of his skull when he took his first steps toward home, pushing through the quiet keening. This was what he'd spent the past… six years or so avoiding. Aizawa had thought he was being dramatic, but they still didn't seem to understand what they'd done.

He paused in front of the door to the apartment. Right in front of the door, where he could feel everything trapped within the apartment, he sighed and laid his forehead against the wood.

The sound was something like an aria... Only the voice wasn't that of a person. If someone had taken an opera singer's greatest tragedy, frozen in a mirror, and broken the glass then the sound trapped inside may have sounded vaguely like the tearstained misery pouring from the crack beneath the door. Watery harps and keystrokes filled the rest, enough to turn an entire hall to tears.

Everyone but Izuku. The music scraped across his skin like saltwater instead of tears, just enough to sting and leech his body heat. He snorted softly as he grabbed the door and wrenched it open.

All this time and I should be happy it's finally out. Now I'm upset I can't even cry about it?

Chemical smells wafted out of the apartment. Apparently, she'd spent the day cleaning. Izuku wagered a guess that they'd called and told her that they'd confronted him.

How did I not notice? Izuku nudged his shoes into place against the wall and stared at his feet for a moment. Even keeping my quirk locked down like this, how could I not pay attention to how much she's been hurting…?

He'd gotten into the habit of avoiding meals and sneaking what leftovers he could out of the fridge at some point before bed. They hadn't eaten dinner together on Tuesday, or the day before, since he was sneaking through the kitchen later. Not so much sneaking as just… not announcing himself. Being quiet was a virtue that helped with his quirk immensely, at the end of the day, though he'd spent most of his life without the choice.

When did I start paying more attention to songs than I did people? Now that I can control it all, I can't just....

She was staring down at her teacup when he turned the corner. The way she smiled didn't bother hiding anything, but it was a try. An offering. Izuku swallowed the pain blocking his throat and walked over, slipping into the chair across from her.

Inko looked exhausted. Her hair was pulled back, as always, but a few stray hairs were sticking out from her ears, as if she'd spent most of the day smoothing it over. Extra lines ran beneath her eyes, with traces of red along her fingers and her forehead.

Worse than anything, her song was one the verge of breaking entirely. It shuddered like glass with every note, pulled tight and wobbling off key. The candlelight flared up like a bonfire, causing finger-snaps right beside his ears while shredded paper wings scraped against one another and left streaks of moth-dust across his cheeks. Long, warped squeals danced through the room as she wrung her hands, eyes locked solely on him. Despite the screaming anxiety, she didn't look entirely uncomfortable or crazed. Her eyelids hung over her dull green eyes, blinking with too much purpose for her to have finished the cleaning a long time ago.

"I heard what happened…" Inko sighed, trying and failing to smile. "Do you, um… I mean, would you maybe like to tell me about it? Or we don't have to, if you feel like you aren't ready, or you don't want to, that's fine too."

Izuku sighed, letting a shudder run down his spine. A wave of burning nerves chased it down as he slumped into the chair.

"I knew about what everyone was saying," He said quietly, weighing and carefully rolling each word before he spoke, "Um. It was one of the students in another class. Normally… Or, I used to sit with some people from my class, so… maybe he just caught me alone. It's not a big deal, I think. Aizawa-sensei was really mad, but I just..."

Izuku's throat tightened before he could say it.

Not because of what he had to say next, or because of how his mother's song ground against his heart. Part of him had steeled itself long before he'd gotten home.

"I just really think…" Izuku frowned as his voice cracked around the words. Forcing hurt his throat, and the tears were already coming no matter how hard he forced them back. On impulse, he pressed his quirk out and weighed the world around him into silence. After a few moments, he managed to collect himself. "…I'm really sorry, Mom."

"Izu-" Inko's eyes welled with fresh tears. "You don't, Izuku it's not like that baby… You don't have to apologize…!"

Izuku swallowed against the tightness in his throat, and he offered a bit of a smile.

"They, um… they gave me tomorrow off, is that okay? Or, if it's not I can still go to class, that way you don't need to worry…"

"No, Izuku, you can stay." Inko stood and shuffled around the table, pulling him into a hug.

You really can't hear it. Izuku shut his eyes to fight against the burn. He felt his mother press a kiss onto his hair and he buried his face in her arm. None of you can hear it, so why do I have to?

Laughter and sobs mixed within his mind as he felt his mother start to cry. His single bit of good news was that he'd held out against Nezu, and no one at the school seemed to realize the truth yet.

Why did someone else think it was okay to use me to break your heart again?

None of that saved him once the door was shut and no one could see him break down. He'd learned a long time ago how to cry without making noise.

Kyōka frowned when Aizawa walked into the room, looking about as angry as he'd been the day before. When he slammed a folder down on the podium, silence blanketed the room. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was breathing down her neck, but there was still nothing. An entire week without the static fuzzing her ears had worn on her nerves more than she'd thought.

"Before any of you ask," Aizawa growled, "Midoriya's absence is excused today for family reasons. However, just because he isn't here doesn't mean I plan to ignore what happened yesterday.'

His eyes glowed faintly as he ran them over the crowd. Kyōka frowned.

"Yesterday, one of the students from class 1-B accosted Midoriya in the lunchroom. From what other students have said, nearly every student in this room was within earshot, and not a single one of you did anything." Aizawa leaned over the podium and narrowed his eyes until the intensity of his glare made Kyōka shiver in her desk. "You all watched while your classmate was singled out and accused harshly enough that his only way to escape was to submit to his attacker and humble himself in front of your school."

The words hung in the air for a moment. Kyōka had watched, of course. She'd been sitting with Momo and Kaminari, and she'd had a perfect view of Midoriya trying to leave. Watching him walk out had left her feeling miserable and confused. Apparently, she wasn't the only one.

"In normal schools, this sort of incident might be written off. At Yuuei, too, normally we wouldn't put so much stress on something like this. But one of your classmates has been alienated by the media, and now his life here at the school has been called into question. Which leaves me wondering if anyone in this room has any right to be a hero at all." Aizawa's voice dropped like a gavel.

"W-wait a sec!" Kaminari stood up, frantically staring at their teacher, "You can't expel us for not doing anything! It wasn't a fight or a group hazing! If it had been just a talk, we'd have gotten involved for nothing!"

"Are you going to pretend you didn't hear, Kaminari?" Aizawa glowered until Kaminari sat down with a weak thud, shaking in his chair. "Regardless of what I think, that same line of reasoning means that your teachers are just as suspect for letting things reach this point in the first place. So I'll be blunt, and perfectly honest with all of you."

Aizawa held up the folder in his hand and slapped the cover.

"This is a series of revisions to Yuuei policy. The Principal and I are presenting this to the faculty over the course of the next week. From this point forward, anyone who's caught in a situation involving discrimination, purposeful alienation or public humiliation will be suspended, immediately and indefinitely, while we determine whether or not there were circumstances that should allow that student to return." Aizawa's eyes fell on Kaminari. "You all are supposed to be heroes. How do you intend to save lives if you will allow someone to be ridiculed or publicly humiliated right before your eyes?"

Kyōka frowned as something in her gut twisted miserably.

"On Monday you'll head off to your internships." Aizawa growled, slipping the folder under his arm and moving back towards the door. "Do as you like for homeroom today but expect that things will be different when you all come back. Think about the types of hero you want to be while you're out there following the pros. It might be the last glimpse you ever get of the industry."

Kyōka sighed as their teacher stalked out of the room. Everyone looked especially drained from the talk, and Kaminari was shaking.

"Man, what is it with Midoriya?" the blonde groaned. Kyōka frowned, throwing a glance across the room and noting who looked in his direction. "Every time that guy does something it blows up in all the wrong ways!"

"Sounds like you're just upset that going all out leaves you kinda dumb," Sero snickered.

A tiny snort from across the room caught Kyōka's ear, drawing her eyes from the new argument. Bakugō had spent the entire week being quiet, even if his anger seemed set to smolder. Some of their classmates braced for the impact, but nothing else happened. Bakugō began studying, of all things, and the room fell into an awkward storm of whispers and muttering.

Shōta paused halfway between his classroom and the teacher's lounge. Part of him wanted to expel every single one of them and then submit his resignation to Nezu. Lingering rage still left his blood stinging his veins with every heartbeat. When the burn finally ran out, he kept walking, ever conscious of the file in his hand. He only paused again when he reached the door, listening to the argument going on inside.

He opened the door, staring at the tiny old man inside the teachers lounge.

"What is this, Toshinori, some kind of sick joke?!" the old man's cane smacked into All Might's leg hard enough that the hero flinched. Shōta bit back a smirk, staring down at the old man's hero costume. "First you ask me to look after him, and now he's not available? Did you get scared or something, you pathetic little…"

"Whoever you are," Aizawa cocked an eyebrow as the old man half turned and glared at him, "Assaulting the symbol of peace is a bold move. Mind telling me what kind of blackmail you have that lets you get away with that?"

"Way above your paygrade, Eraserhead." The old man huffed. "This dumbass called me up for a favor, only to revoke the option once I got moving. If you'll excuse us, this is a bit sensitive."

"Is it about Midoriya?" Shōta narrowed his eyes at All Might, keenly aware of how the gaunt giant shuffled beneath the pressure. "Because if it is, All Might didn't have anything to do with that. Midoriya is my student, and he's interning with me. That's final."

"Oh?" The old man grinned wolfishly. "Sorry to say, young 'un, but my claim on that boy is older than the kid himself. Mind handing over the forms?"

"How about you tell me what's going on with Midoriya and All Might that gives you the ability to poach my students from me?" Shōta met the old man's glare full force. Eventually, the old man broke away and groaned.

"That's how it is, then? Fine. But since I already came all the way up here, don't think that I'm just going to up and leave." The grin returned, and the old man wacked All Might on the leg without even looking. Shōta had to suppress a chuckle. "Having an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Midoriya didn't show up on Monday, either. Kyōka and Ochako shared a concerned glance (Momo didn't look happy either, which is odd) and Kaminari got stabbed in the arm for asking what's got her so 'flustered'.

As if Midoriya could get her flustered.

He's… too flashy for that.

Izuku wasn't surprised to find Nezu waiting for him at the gate. The principal fell into step with him easily, creeping towards his leg and then up his shoulder without a word. Students stared at them openly, until Izuku could imagine the sounds without using his quirk at all.

"You'll be meeting your teachers in the lounge before you start." Nezu chirps as they reached the stairs. Izuku nodded, keeping a tight leash on his tongue.

Don't ask don't ask don't ask… His teeth grind a bit as he starts down the right hallway.

"You seem to have a much better hold on your quirk, Midoriya-kun. There's almost no leakage at all." Nezu hummed.

Izuku sighed, "I've, um… been working on my control."

"Of course, of course. How does one go about training a quirk like yours? To achieve such control in only two months is a feat for a quirk such as yours."

Izuku wished he could hear the principal's song. On campus, Nezu was one of the more interesting songs, and the distance had always kept Izuku from getting a closer look. Using Soul Song, though, would mean that the principal could read him. Nezu wasn't someone Izuku wanted close. The principal was fishing for answers, and the brief glimpses that Izuku had gotten told him that giving the principal too much information was dangerous.

"Meditation, mostly." Izuku muttered, digging a hand under the strap of his bag.

"Practicing meditation at your age is an incredible feat. The minds of adolescents are constantly changing, after all. It must be very difficult to maintain that state of calm." Nezu hummed. Izuku sighed as he caught the glint in the principal's eye.

"No actually." Izuku said, pausing as he stopped in front of the teacher's lounge. The principal hopped from his shoulder, folding his paws behind his back as he waited. "Meditating isn't that difficult anymore."

"You're an interesting person, Midoriya-kun." Nezu chuckled. "You know I have access to your therapy and your training regiments, yes? Hiding your quirk from me won't do you much good."

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Principal-sama." Izuku sighed, barely sparing a glance at the creature. "I'm just practicing. Calling it hiding makes me sound cunning."

"Yes, I suppose it does doesn't it? Maybe I was wrong." The principal chirped as he walked down the hall, waving over his shoulder as he left. "But being afraid makes a person very good at hiding, Midoriya-kun!"

"Good thing you don't know what fear sounds like." Izuku murmured. Only once the principal was far enough out of his reach did he soften his control and let the music of Yuuei flow through him.

Without the hero course students, there was a much less vibrant air in the building. Some of the older students, songs he knew only from the brief contact he made with them through walls, were still buzzing, drawing his attention. But without the constant hum, he could pick out the gen ed and support students. Mei was there, and the rattling chains(snakes) from Shinso's class. Other students, more he knew only by songs, stuck out now. None of them enough that he did more than brush over their songs, but they were there. If his class had been on campus, the sounds would have drowned out just about every one of them.

Izuku snorted as one of Bakugō's old slurs slipped through his mind.

From beyond the door were a few of the teachers, some he knew some he didn't. One of them, a tired melody played mostly off woodwinds, stuck out. It wasn't one he knew from his daily routine, and there were two sounds that he knew all too well buried in the song. All Might's sunshine, as well as the purple song he felt buried in the fragments of One for All, and a deep, lingering misery that dragged the man down to earth. He hated hearing that song. Of all the ones he could put a name to, he hated that one the most.

When he opened the door, he paused. A tiny old man blinked back at him, and a quiet, curious sound rang in the air between them. The old man narrowed his eyes at Izuku immediately.

"Eh, you're a joker huh?" The cane hit the floor as hot, dry whispers coursed through the old man. "Let's see if you can back it up!"

My quirk… It's been a while since I did that by accident. Izuku blinked. An odd tingling sensation washed across his mind as he refocused and unfocused his eyes. The 'partial void' mindset he'd been training for the past week left him almost dead to the world, save for his sight and the familiar sensation of One for All's core running through his muscles.

Noise brushed against his shoulder a moment before the old man burst off the ground and tore through that spot. Quietly, Izuku let his song push out against the walls, filling the space until he could feel the old man's motion, from the corner across to the cabinet and then…

Izuku stepped to the right just as the old man's foot hit the floor where he'd been standing. The motion was small, a half step and a twirl, but it was enough.

Then they were off again.

Dry, hot wind over chords left them barely humming at all. The melody was quiet, like trees rustling beneath the shrill cry of insects in autumn. Clusters of dried bamboo barked as the pieces knocked against one another in the breeze. But the wind howled around the corners and burned with the thick heat of twilight. Steady, thick rasps of metal traced every move, leaving a sour tinge of dry humor in the song. A deep, cloying woodwind chased the wind like an oppressing evening heat and long shadows.

Right, left, up, right, straight, behind, right…

He didn't really think about it. An arm shot out as the man came barreling at him. The burst of air shot through where he'd been standing, and the old man was already moving when the arm Izuku had used for the grab swung around to hit the small of his back.

"Both of you, stop it!" All Might was coughing behind the old man. Izuku blinked when he saw how much blood his mentor had coughed up during the fight, even if it had only been…

How long had it been?

"Good grief, you're both so energetic today." All Might coughed again. Izuku flinched at the pleading look on his face. "This is a teacher's lounge! You can't just start a fight here! We have facilities for that!"

"Sorry, sensei." Izuku muttered, losing the grip on his trance entirely. The old man continued staring until Izuku straightened his frown into a grimace and met the old man's expression with an even stare. "…I'm sorry for my quirk. It's a bit cheeky sometimes."

"You're telling me that was your quirk? Where were all the flashy illusions you're supposed to be throwing around?" The old man barked. Izuku sank further into his uniform and sighed in exasperation.

"That's complicated." Was all he said. The old man scoffed.

"You're a weird one, that's for sure. Where's your backbone, kid? Aren't you supposed to be some flashy, arrogant son of a bitch?" The old man cocked an eyebrow and a grin at him.

Izuku was never so glad to feel Aizawa's song, still simmering even days after their talk, stalking through the halls towards Nezu's office.

"If you don't mind…" Izuku glanced at the teachers who were still staring at the three of them, the ones who weren't involved in his internship, "could we head to the gym before Aizawa-sensei finds out I was wasting time here? I'd rather not get extra work-outs."

"Of course, young Midoriya!" All Might coughed once more, then buffed up and walked towards the door with the old man in tow, muttering under his breath.

"What in the world did you stick me with, Toshinori…"

Izuku sighed and followed them out.

The repaired version of his suit looked good. His braces, the color, everything was improved from his first iteration. Only the ears felt a bit off, but he couldn't really do much about that without changing the base more than he liked. A few pages of sketches lay on his desk at home, ideas that he crossed out or thought of improving with the new design as he changed and ran out to the gym near the field.

Aizawa was on the way. He didn't have much time after all.

Gran Torino (whose name he'd needled out of All Might) was still looking at him funny. Izuku wasn't sure if it was because of his trance fight earlier, or because he was… Izuku. Overall, he elected to ignore it for the sake of what he needed to do.

He jogged across the gym and paused in front of All Might, ignoring Gran Torino entirely, and took a breath. All Might's expression darkened, reading the situation for something.

"All Might-sensei." The man blinked in surprise at the address. It nearly made him pause, but the knot growing in his throat was dangerous. "I… I need to apologize."

"Young Midoriya, if this is about this past week, or about the festival, you don't…"

"No, it isn't. Well… Not entirely." Izuku broke in. All Might's face looked… hurt. He hated that expression, but he'd been stewing in misery for a week. More wouldn't kill him. "The Sports Festival made me realize something. At first, I wasn't sure, but this week I think… I've come to terms with how things are."

Were you trying to grab all the glory for yourself?

Your quirk is supposed to be useless…!

Objectively, I'm better with my quirk than you are. I'm going to beat you today.

You've got poor luck, boy. Put up a good show though.

"I'm not fit to be a Symbol of Peace, All Might." Izuku sighed. All Might's eyes widened, and Gran Torino's expression darkened. "No one wants to follow me or see me at out in front of them. My quirk is just too strange. You passed on One for All and told me that I could be the next greatest hero, but… truthfully, I never wanted to be number one. I only wanted to be a hero to save people. I know their pain more than anyone else."

"So, you're giving it up? One for All?" Gran Torino may as well have spat the words at him. Izuku took a breath and pushed back the surge of anger.

"Not unless All Might-sensei asks me to." Izuku met his mentor's eyes, refusing to let the burn in his own release the tears threatening him. "If you want to pass this on to someone more suited for the spotlight, then… I'll make my own way. I'll give my place here up so that they have a chance and prove myself with my own power."

"What are you going to do with One for All if you're not going to be the Symbol of Peace?" Gran Torino narrowed his eyes. Izuku swallowed and straightened some.

"I can't be like All Might, but I can support them." Izuku glanced towards the roof, out towards where Yuuei rose from the hill. "I can use this power you gave me to be there, on every battlefield, and I'll support them with One for All until every single hero out there makes up a piece of your legacy."

Izuku pulled some of One for All, letting the sparks roll across his skin and through his eyes.

"I'll turn every hero in Japan into a Symbol of Peace, or I'll die trying. And I'll turn One for All into a quirk so powerful that the next wielder can be an even greater Symbol than you are now."

All Might's eyes watered. Izuku tried his best not to cry, but the pain in his throat was enough that he choked. Gran Torino huffed and grinned at All Might's side.

"Where did you dig up this kid, Toshinori? First, he keeps up with my speed and now he tells me he isn't worthy! This is a brat after my own heart." Gran Torino's cane shoved into Izuku's ribs. "You better live up to that promise, brat, if you're going to hold onto that power. One for All isn't something to be taken lightly!"

"What are you talking about? He's still a brat, if you ask me." Izuku sighed as Aizawa came trudging into the gym, glaring at him. "None of you are ready for the real world yet, even if you went and fought villains as first years."

"Ai-Aizawa-kun…!" All Might choked, spewing a little blood as he coughed in surprise.

"Yes, All Might, I finally made it back. Every one of the brats was sent off properly. Though…" Aizawa's glare returned to Izuku with a vengeance. "I was supposed to have this week off, problem child."

"You didn't have to take me on, Sensei." Izuku whined. The man snorted before moving to stand on All Might's free side.

"Like I'd leave my strongest student in someone else's hands. If you go crazy again, I'll make sure to cut off this crazy power of yours, got it?" Aizawa's song growled at him, wordlessly backing up the statement. Izuku raised his hands in defeat, chuckling weakly.

"And I'm here to give you the same treatment I gave this big idiot back in the day!" Gran Torino's grin turned shark-like as he swung his cane near All Might's knee. The hero barely dodged, though he shook and coughed a bit at the old man's words. Izuku blinked, then grinned.

That explains some things…

"First, though." Aizawa strode forward and placed a hand on Izuku's head. "I want you to show me your quirk. How it affects people. Then, maybe, we'll spar. Once everyone here understands what your quirk lets you see. And after that, you have a meeting with the therapist to get reacquainted."

Izuku blinked.

Re… Reacquainted? A shudder ran down his spine.

"I'll admit I'm curious. Whatever this crazy quirk is, I'd appreciate being brought up to speed." Gran Torino muttered, still eyeing Izuku as if he were some kind of prey animal. "You managed to dodge my blows earlier like you had precognition, and you're not fast enough to keep up with me anyways. What gives brat?"

Izuku glanced back and forth between them all, then shot an uneasy glance at his mentor. All Might was still looking at him with… an unreadable expression.

"I, uh, that's… can't I just… explain it…?"

"The principal himself has already complimented you on your misdirection skills, Midoriya." Aizawa droned, narrowing his eyes. "I thought I made it clear that I'm not going to keep being misled about these things?"

"I… But, it's a very personal thing to see each other's…"

What, kid, you gonna show us everyone's underwear?" Gran Torino barked and poked his cane at Izuku's stomach. "Don't act all squeamish. Your teacher just gave you an order, so get to work!"

Shōta didn't think it would be easy getting Midoriya to give up the details on his quirk. After everything was said and done, Nezu had all but forced him to agree with Midoriya's deal back in the office. But the weight of three stares seemed to break down the boy's resolve enough for them to work it out of him. The expressions, guilt, fear, anger, suspicion… everything that rolled across Midoriya's face made Shōta want to vomit. Forcing his students out of their comfort zones was one thing. Pushing too far across their boundaries was another thing entirely.

Not that this one made it easy to tell where the lines were.

Even in the face of Nezu, the boy had kept at least one thing about his quirk from them. Something that Nezu seemed to think was painfully obvious and continued to elude both Shōta and Recovery Girl.

"My quirk…" Shōta cocked an eyebrow at the boy's 'go to' explanation, apparently enough of a warning that he stopped and sighed heavily. "My quirk is called Soul Song. It lets me hear the sounds of everyone's soul like music, including their physical and emotional state, from birth up to a few seconds into the future. I can feel where people are going to be, which is how I avoided your attacks earlier, Gran Torino Sensei."

Shōta glanced over at the old man, who scratched his head in confusion.

"Souls? What kind of nonsense is this?" The old man muttered. Midoriya rolled his eyes.

"Why can't anyone just take it for what it is…" The boy took a breath. "Look, I'll just… do you have any questions?"

"I have one." All Might said quietly. "Your illusions. They aren't like the music. What are they, exactly?"

"Oh." Midoriya frowned. "I think… I'm not sure, because before I was the only one who could see them. When my quirk first started, I couldn't do anything more than hear the music. Eventually I started entering a sort of… trance state where I could experience the emotions more vividly. Those illusions are something like that."

Shōta frowned. The growth rate of Midoriya's quirk didn't really make sense, but there was a lot that didn't make sense. What bothered him was, in the end, the same thing that Gran Torino was snorting at.

Midoriya talked about these 'souls' so easily. He'd spent his entire life with them, almost. Were they supposed to accept the abstract so easily?

"If it helps, think about it like this. My quirk lets me hear the music everyone is playing, right?" Midoriya waved his hands, half mumbling and half explaining while he ran his eyes over the three of them. "Emotions are chemicals in the brain, but that doesn't mean that we don't feel them like something more. Souls exist as… kind of like a memory. If you think of how someone makes you feel, then it's not just one word, there's a whole bunch of things. And our souls reflect that… er… Does that make any sense?"

"You're saying that your quirk takes peoples experiences and turns it into music, but why call it souls?" Shōta sighed. Midoriya's expression turned grim.

"It's easy to think that it's just emotions. But there's health, too. What would you call it if you took someone's health, their memories and their emotions and their life and bundled it all up into a single sound?" Midoriya's eyes glinted sharply in the lights of the gym.

Shōta was still getting used to the fact that this student was… somehow grown up in more ways than most. Not entirely, maybe, but he couldn't ignore the fact that Midoriya seemed more worldly than any other student he'd had to teach.

"All right, so those illusions. They're more intense forms of songs. How'd you make a lightshow out of this idiot then?" Gran Torino waved at All Might, and Shōta glanced at the old man curiously.

"That's…" Midoriya pursed his lips, then glanced at Shōta. "I didn't know until recently, how to put it into words. But my memory is a part of my quirk. I remember every song I've ever heard, to a point. Which means that All Might's song…"

"You mimic it and play it?" All Might finished, earning a nod of understanding. "And you can adjust the levels of your power based on the power that your music is playing at, correct?"

"Ah, sort of. They're not entirely different." Midoriya muttered, shooting a glance at Shōta. Shōta sighed and rolled his eyes.

He was tired of being left out of the loop. But he wasn't allowed to pry, either.

"Can you just show us what your quirk is like already?" Shōta grumbled. Midoriya fidgeted.

"I… I'm a bit worried. I'm not entirely sure what you want to know, and it's really harsh on people who aren't used to it."

"I want to see how you see it. The soul nonsense you keep spouting." Shōta growled. "Can you show others what it's like? Similar to how you induce the hallucinations?"

"I can, but it's hard on people." Midoriya sighed.

"We're built tough, kid. Just get on with it." Gran Torino barked enough that the kid flinched.

"Look, this isn't that type of tough…!"

"Young Midoriya. Please." All Might's voice, for once, was soft. Shōta was actually a bit surprised that the man could read the room enough to use that sort of tone. "We'd like the chance to train you properly this week. That means exposing ourselves to this power, and I'm… very curious about how you perceive these things."

Midoriya swallowed.

Oh for the love of… Shōta hissed as the boy's resolve crumbled. Of course it's All Might who gets it. Always All Might.

"Okay, but… I want to try with Aizawa-sensei first." Midoriya muttered. Shōta blinked in surprise, apparently the same as the other two. When no one said anything, Midoriya's fidgeting grew worse and he began stuttering again. "I… um, I feel like, since he's my internship teacher… and since he's the one who's been looking so hard… he deserves the full attention. And if it goes wrong, he can cancel my quirk."

"Whatever. Just hurry. We don't have all day." Gran Torino huffed.

Shōta narrowed his eyes at the boy. Midoriya shrugged, then reached out a hand.

"Whenever you're ready, sensei." He said. There was something in his eyes, something that Shōta wasn't sure of. Not a look of betrayal, or anything negative. But it was too guarded for him to think that this was any kind of olive branch.

He reached out and took the boy's hand with a firm grip, watched his student close his eyes, and waited.

The vertigo came for him, only to be quickly replaced by a brief tingling sensation that ran over his skin.

When the floor fell out from under him, he didn't even have time to scream.

Midoriya's hand disappeared. It wasn't gone, the sensation of being gripped was keeping him suspending in the empty space around them. Something lapped at the edge of his mind, changing the darkness spreading out to green and red and pink and blue. His voice wouldn't work, something that both terrified him and confirmed the detachment from reality. All around him, colorful emptiness spread out.

No… something hummed in the shadows beneath him. Something deeper, that peered at him in a way eerily similar to the way he looked at his students. An old something that made the hair on the back of his neck rise and shiver.

A growl surrounded him. He fell into a mess of brown, green and blue dust that erupted from nowhere and swirled with purpose that Shōta couldn't fathom. For a brief moment he was trapped within the haze, blinking as points of light blinded him and flashes of hot and cold raced over his skin fast enough to burn…

Sorry… Shōta blinked as Midoriya's voice cut through the mess. He looked around, trying to find the source and missing it entirely. The cosmic shards were gone, leaving him alone in the void again. This isn't the same for you and me. But… I think I've got it this time. Don't worry, I'm just going to borrow your song.

Light burst from a point of nothing, swelling in a mess similar to what had swallowed him a moment ago (had it been a moment? When had he arrived, how long had he…) until Shōta was staring into eyes that burned with the ferocity of dying stars.

The mass of cosmic wrath twitched as it looked at him, and then it reared back and roared. He wasn't afraid, but… staring down the beast's throat was staring into the maw of a black hole. No sound accompanied the roar, even though the force ripple through him. It was a pure shockwave, something that dragged him towards the fangs and the half-formed pit that devoured anyone and anything daring to stand in its way.

He was dragged away, until the song was faint and the beast faded into a writhing mass of music. Dust and heat ground against gold and silver and glass strings, similar to how…

Exactly the same as the burn his quirk left in his eyes. Shōta gaped.

That's just one. Look around, Sensei. I can at least show you the rest, even if it isn't the same… Shōta's eyes followed the motion, past the two songs that swirled in bubbles close to the mirror Midoriya had given him and out towards…

If he'd seen flames burn golden, or miniature stars, then they wouldn't have had the same beauty as the ocean of Souls that stood off in the distance. Music wafted out, barely reaching him. All of the songs, melded together, reached him in pieces that stood out from each person. Clearly there was the song, one single massive orchestra that played according to all of them, and the individuals playing along unaware of the great body making them up.

Bubbles surrounded each of them Some of them, at least. A few of the lights were wrapped in cobwebbed cloud wisps. Gray, smoky haze filled some, letting only a slight glimmer and a shred of song out. For as many lights, there were as many different barriers surrounding them, and even a few without any boundaries whatsoever. Only… the surface wasn't hard, but more like an unseen edge of their influence, some louder or more widespread than others. Each song pushed through or skirted around the edges of each other according to their own strength or desire, and there were even a few songs close enough that they could slip in and form an entirely new soul just from being close to one another. Colors burned within them, not just gold or silvery white but greens and blues and reds and oranges, all changing and evolving in time as he stared at them.

Shōta fell, and the flames grew too soft for him to see. Instead, his eyes turned and…

Everything in the world burned. The same light gathered up into one, all across the city. On the edge of Midoriya's range, a hazy mass of luminescent music, half fire half glass, swirled like the edge of a sunset over the ocean.

In the darkness, Shōta felt very small.

The sensation was the same one he'd felt in the Sports Festival Finals. Being in two places at once, trapped within the void and staring at his own reflection looking up out of the ocean.

Do you always feel this way when you use your quirk? Shōta wondered. A small, painful laugh rang out quietly in the emptiness of the void.

No. But this is the easiest place for me to think, or to see them.

Shōta hummed, then drifted in the hold of Midoriya's quirk. Then he turned his eyes back to the emptiness, where he could feel All Might's golden sunshine glowing and Gran Torino's dry, tired woodwind growling.

Where's your song, Midoriya? Shōta spun, looking through the emptiness. He'd seen his own song billow out of the nether… But if he had it right, shouldn't he have been closest to Midoriya? For the first time, no response came. Moments passed before he felt himself trying to claw at his throat, just to make any sort of sound.

Shōta blinked, staring down at the green haired youth before him.

"Something the matter, Eraser?" Gran Torino's growl had almost no heat to it, for the first time in a while. He blinked, looking over the two heroes and their concerned looks.

"I… No. How long did that take?" Shōta dug his hands into his hair, then his eyes. Everything in his chest, all the parts of him he tried not to get involved with, ached heavily.

"About five minutes, Sensei." Midoriya muttered. Shōta blinked at him in surprise. "Sorry… time is hard there. And it took a long time to figure out how to show you."

Shōta almost had time to ask before Midoriya turned to the other heroes, extending a hand. The pair took his invitation all too quickly, and soon he was left watching the three of them stand with closed eyes. It was fair to say that Midoriya's quirk didn't take time seriously. Whatever happened, it happened fast and drowned whoever was affected. But there was something else.

His student had eluded him again, apparently. Within the ache, Shōta couldn't help feeling like he'd missed what was right in front of him again.

Izuku glanced back and forth from Recovery Girl to the woman in the chair. He frowned at the old woman as he walked forward and offered a small bow to the therapist he was supposed to be seeing.

"Hello. Thank you for meeting with me today." He muttered. A small smile broke across the woman's face. Izuku scanned her briefly, noting the short dark-brown fur that stood out instead of pale skin. Rabbit ears stuck out of her hairdo by some, though it seemed that the fur and ears were the most obvious of her transformative aspects. Everything else seemed human. "Um… Recovery Girl, are you…?"

"I'm sitting in." She nodded, looking at him sternly. "You might have gotten away with that deal, but don't you think for a second that I'm just going to let you destroy yourself to save others some discomfort."

"Eh… right." Izuku sighed, glancing at the therapist's awkward smile and noting the way her eyes darted between his chair and Recovery Girl's. "So, um… is this about my quirk, then?"

"No, Midoriya-kun, not entirely." The woman sighed, suddenly radiating happiness at the change of topic. "My name is Nousagi, and I am a fully trained therapist. Your teachers have made it clear that you've spent a long time struggling, and this is about giving you someone to talk to. Recovery Girl is here because she's a medical professional, someone who can help decide whether or not medication is on the table given your unique quirk adaptations."

"Oh." Izuku frowned. "I… Never thought of that."

"Some people don't think that medication is for them, or various other problems…" The woman nodded. "But first, I'd like for us to get to know one another and for…"

She paused, then smiled softly, "You'd prefer to start somewhere else?"

Izuku had barely raised his hand at all, but he smiled sheepishly at her offer and swallowed his nervousness.

"Um. Did… Did the Principal tell you anything about my quirk? Or… my history with therapists?" He fidgeted, glancing at the stiff frown on Recovery Girl's face. Nousagi-san frowned a bit.

"They mentioned that you spent a few years seeing therapists who gave you an incorrect diagnosis. But otherwise, I haven't seen anything other than your original quirk documents."

"R-right. Okay." Izuku sighed. "Um, I want to ask… Can I use my quirk? To listen to your song, I mean. Just… that's the quickest way for me to get to know you, I think. And then I can start by explaining my quirk. For Recovery Girl that would be fastest, I think."

Nousagi-san blinked, then took a breath.

"Is your quirk invasive, Midoriya-kun?"

"No! No, not… not at all, but it's… It can show me personal experiences. Not how they happened, or why or… it focuses on what a person feels. I wouldn't ever go that deep, but I just, it's usually how I…" Izuku dug a hand through his hair, tugging as panic coursed through his veins.

"Midoriya-kun, please calm down." Nousagi-san gave him a pained look until he moved his hands to the armrests of his chair. "I'm not worried for myself. I'm worried about what types of things people with invasive quirks might find out growing up."

A nervous, weak laugh escaped him, followed by a hiccup. One that earned a raised eyebrow from both women.

"Your quirk is invasive, Midoriya-kun?" Nousagi-san asked quietly. Izuku took a breath.

"I can show you."

When she didn't hear any other answer, she nodded. Even when he shot a brief glance at Recovery Girl, the woman offered him soft assurances until he finally let his quirk take hold of the room. Recovery Girl's song was something he treated with more care than was necessary, but he'd heard it more than enough. Doctor's songs were complicated things.

Nousagi-san, by comparison, was something much easier. Her song was something sunny, more like dawn than Gran Torino's twilight. The song was almost entirely keys, with a quiet song lingering over the airy tune. A memory mixed between past and present that sang alongside the piano.

After a few moments, the woman blinked away tears and grinned at him wholeheartedly.

"That's what your quirk does, Midoriya-kun?" She chuckled softly. "It sounds like the song that my family sing to our children. But I'll be honest, I thought it would be more… hallucinogenic. Like the festival."

"That's…" Izuku frowned and sank in his chair some. "I have to work really hard for that to happen. And it's usually only when you look at more than the surface."

"I'm not sure what you mean, but hopefully in time we can change that." Nousagi-san smiled and shifted to cross her legs. "Would you like to start with your quirk, then? How early do you remember having it?"

"I… I'll start at the beginning, then." Izuku didn't look at them. He stared at the table, ignoring their nods. No one dared to break him out of it now.

Izuku was four when he first heard the music. At first it was broken, like imagining a sound from a TV show or a tune that couldn't you couldn't get out of your head. During school, there were scraps of sound that left him feeling hot or cold or tired or hungry. Sometimes, when they at dinner, he heard something soft and warm coming from the other side of the table.

The sound became something that Izuku chased, without really thinking. He never spoke of it, knowing that people might not understand. Words couldn't explain how he heard things that made him feel, or that he didn't know where they came from.

Eventually, the songs came from everywhere. Instead of broken sounds they were constant melodies playing softly almost everywhere he went. His only moments of peace were the moments he spent alone.

"I got my quirk when I was three. For a long time, I didn't say anything. People always said I had a really vivid imagination, and I was always playing heroes and things. So, I sort of… denied it, I guess? Or I never considered it at all? Quirks didn't do that sort of thing, in my mind. Heroes had really flashy, powerful quirks that helped people. And I never thought I'd be anything else. For a year and a half, I tried to figure out what it was, but I only ever realized that the noise came from people. I didn't ask anyone about it until I started hearing the music all the time and it was loud enough that I couldn't ignore it."

"Who did you ask?" Nousagi frowned at him while Recovery Girl flat out scowled down at the floor.

"I asked my mom first."

That moment played out in his brain all at once, whenever he remembered it. Unclear, but with a mess of things that were still jagged enough to cut. Worse than anything was how the music changed.

A soft, somber bell rang in his chest as his mother frowned at him. She'd been tall, right? Was she doing the dishes, or was that the sound of twilight surf? Even clearer than the bell in his chest was the low sound of strings, like one of the dangerous moments in his All Might Anime.

"Music? I'm not playing any music Izuku." She had looked away from the dishes and watched him tilt his head to the side.

"Where's that sound coming from then?" He'd asked. The sound continued and rumbled through the floorboards as his mother pursed her lips.

"What sound?"

"The music!"

"Izuku, playing tricks isn't nice."

"But Mom, I'm not…"

"Hush now and finish your homework." He watched her turn back to whatever she was doing and listened to the music trail off. Something about the receding tune filled him with horrible, nervous energy. The kind that he got before Kacchan called him 'Deku' or he got hit by someone else on the playground.

He didn't talk about the music again.

Anything to avoid that sound, the look in her eyes.

Barely a week later, the songs began bleeding through the walls of his room.

"Your file mentioned that your diagnosis was originally quirkless, but I didn't think that your mother would have…" Nousagi's smile was completely broken. Izuku nodded.

"In a way, it's a good thing, I think. If people had believed me, I wouldn't have known what to call my quirk. I mean, I was too young to really understand it at the time. I didn't really get it until I was six."

Izuku had only been to a couple festivals that he really remembered, but he remembered them really well after he'd started hearing the music. Being up late, watching fireworks if he was lucky, fishing games, maybe even a festival treat if they were doing well. He wasn't allowed to bring his own money, but that was fine. All Might things were expensive sometimes, and he only had so much allowance. What he remembered most about the sound of a festival was the people laughing, and the dancing, the fabric of kimonos and lengths of golden harp strings hanging from every lantern, humming softly as people walked beneath the whispering moonbeams.

The old man on the third floor sounded like all the things Izuku loved about festivals. Izuku stared as the women moved in and out of his apartment, leaving a few things of Izuku's neighbor in the walkway. He was afraid to go and ask what they were doing. Why would some random kid from two floors up come and visit an ailing old man at five in the afternoon?

He didn't want to tell anyone the truth. Just thinking about it left the taste of tree bark and copper in his mouth while the sound of an early morning breeze rustled through his head. Instead he watched, trying to ignore the way his arms and knees and bleeding nose throbbed gently.

Quiet traces of the old man's song lingered on the things in the walkway. Children's laughter and rushing water echoed inside that little set of drawers. That lamp held a few stray harp cords left over from the lanterns and silver moonbeams clung to the arcs of it like cobwebs in an old piano. A box full of pictures sounded like a broken music box, one that Izuku had seen at a flea market. Songs stuttered and trailed off slowly, but the cracked melodies hung onto each picture. Izuku had seen some of them, and he remembered the songs. Each one had been something Izuku wished he could remember: a family, having a picnic or visiting a monument or at a festival.

Nothing had been sad before, but the way the music struggled made Izuku's chest hurt.

He'd seen the ambulance the week before. He'd really hoped that his friend would be okay. He'd never forget the way the music stopped when the women stepped out of the apartment and locked the door behind them.

"Everyone… I think people get hung up on the 'Soul' aspect of it. Most people don't think about things like that, or they try to put it in religion. My quirk isn't like that. It's about people. But earlier, Aizawa sensei asked me about it. Honestly, I… I couldn't tell him where I got the name from." Izuku sighed, relaxing the grip on the chair arms. "My quirk lets me hear people whether I want to or not. Growing up I didn't have the choice at all, most of the time. So… I ended up noticing a lot of people die. You can't not notice something like that. And I don't mean that I can hear them floating around as ghosts. What kind of quirk would that be for a hero? But I… I can hear songs from objects, sometimes. When someone dies the song lingers for a while. Maybe I didn't watch them die, but it felt like it. You watch people gather up their things and… there's this moment where some people just give up. When they give up, the song fades entirely."

The women stared at him for a moment, lost for words. Izuku swallowed.

"I made the Principal promise not to tell anyone about my quirk because there's no getting around it. My quirk tells me how people feel. When you tell someone that they hurt your feelings, then the idea is that someone normal would feel hurt, right…? What do you do when you can't get away from the sounds of someone's heart breaking? Half the time, they didn't even mean for anything bad to happen. Anyone hurting people on purpose wouldn't care how you feel anyways. Sometimes you just have to keep moving forward and hope that people will grow on their own."

"That's a very grown up way of thinking about it, Midoriya-kun, but you can't always avoid confrontation." Nousagi-san said quietly. Izuku sighed and clawed at his hair.

"I mean… it's not like I always avoid conflict. There was Todoroki. I had to use my quirk on him. And…" Izuku frowned. A shudder ran through his spine as he thought of the Spider. "There were other people I had to confront. Kacchan, for instance."

"Kacchan?" Nousagi-san perked up. "A close friend, or a girlfriend?"

"Eh…?" Izuku blushed red enough to let steam off his ears. "N-no, not… He's a childhood friend! We knew each other when we were little, calling him by his name just sounds wrong, we aren't like that!"

"Ah, I see." Nousagi-san deflated some, but her ears twitched. "But, is it fair to guess that you two aren't close anymore? You don't sound too fond of him."

"Bakugō-kun has tried to kill Midoriya-kun once or twice by this point." Recovery Girl muttered.

"K-kill…?" Nousagi-san stared at Izuku with wide eyes.

"H-he's very loud but Kacchan doesn't actually kill anyone…" He offered. Recovery Girl's muttering turned dark enough that Izuku couldn't help wondering if it looked anything like he did when he muttered.

"Why don't we talk about this… Bakugō? What kind of relationship did you two have?" Nousagi-san's eye twitched, as if her stiff posture didn't make her discomfort obvious enough. Izuku sighed.

"Um… I mean, we can…? But… Kacchan is a bit of a long conversation."

"Is that so?" Nousagi-san hummed quietly. "Well, let's just continue then. You were talking about… what your quirk lets you hear, I believe."

Izuku nodded and swallowed, "Y-yeah. I was… That last bit. When my neighbor passed away, I realized that my quirk had something to do with people's relationships. Along with everything else, it took about two years for me to realize what exactly I was hearing. Mom wasn't really comfortable with the name, but I insisted. She… actually she let it go pretty easily once I had my confirmation. And eventually we went and got those scans from my medical files."

"Your medical profile says that you've been drowning in emotions since you were little. I suppose now I understand some of why that is." Recovery Girl sighed.

"Midoriya-kun, I have one question." Nousagi-san frowned. "You mentioned that you spent several years learning about your quirk. How did you do that?"

"Oh." Izuku wet his lips and glanced at Recovery Girl. "Um… Well, at first I started going to music halls. My quirk got me free admission to a pair of shows, since the directors were interested, but after a while I realized I couldn't learn much from real music…"

"Midoriya, stop looking like I'm going to bite you." Recovery Girl said. "I'm a doctor, not a teacher. This is about you talking through your quirk. Unless you break some more bones, I won't need to do anything to you."

Izuku swallowed and smiled weakly at her statement. Nousagi-san looked slightly sick.

"I visited hospitals." Recovery Girl blinked. Izuku looked at Nousagi-san instead, but his vision started blurring almost immediately when he thought of his first year visiting the hospital. "They heard I had an empathy quirk, so one of the doctors asked me to tell him what was bothering one of the patients. It was a little kid. She was afraid of needles."

Izuku's fingers were as white as the porcelain of the toilet. He shivered on the tile floor, completely ignorant of the bile on his tongue and the sounds pouring out of the walls. Being in the hospital was like walking into the biggest concert hall on the planet, one full of countless orchestras. Misery and bliss played alongside one another like Sakura petals floating on a pit of tar. Keeping hold of a single song, one that was moving closer and closer to the entrance, was more than he'd ever managed before. The little girl was already much farther than his usual hearing range, but he clung to the sound as if his life depended on it.

Bootsteps scraped across floormats. Sandpaper dragged across freshly cut wood, leaving a thick, heady scent in the air and burned his throat. The walls of the stall might as well have been a coffin or a plastic bag over his mouth. Every breath rattled in his ears, drowning out the approaching screech of worn strings and rasping metal. For a brief moment, the small and the sounds disappeared and the quiet whine of an artic breeze clawing at the walls.

A soft, rhythmic chime of humming metal made him flinch before trailing off into more near silence. With the next chime, something scraped across his skin. To Izuku's eyes, tiny wires crawled across the floor before jabbing their ends into his skin and tightening like fishhooks. Pressure built at each spot as if someone were pulling at his bones, and the vibrations filled the air between chimes with nervous, irregular scratching.

Dead screams built in his chest. Screams of pain, screams of terror, screams of pleading all mixed together until his chest felt like it would burst. Instead of his heartbeat thundering in his ear, a feather-soft whisper slipped along the inside of his ear.

Glass shattered across the floor, crawling over his taught flesh like hot saltwater. The wires screamed as the wave passed over them. A puddle of black poured beneath the door of Izuku's stall, out of the ceiling and onto the walls, full of thick organ notes and smoldering kindling. Images flashed through his mind. His cheek stung. Something pulled at his hair hard enough that he might have stood up, if the wires hadn't trapped him. Freezing wind howled into the room and leeched the heat from his body. Manic laughter joined the whispers in his ear, and the traces of burnt wood returned to burn his nostrils along with the spiders crawling along the curve of his ear and down his neck.

The organ and drum slammed through him, pinning his wrists to the floor and holding him down by the back of his neck. Strings snapped, pulled from his skin by the force of it all. Heat bloomed from his wounds, flushing through him as the ink overtook him, leaving him blind. Pain lanced through his intestines as the song released him, screaming across metal and glass and wires while he lost the feeling in his limbs. Bones snapped under the force of his compressed screams.

Eventually the music slowed, leaving nothing but the organ and the rasping drum and the whisper that still casually tickled his ear. Still limp, Izuku felt his tears freeze on his face as the silence took over entirely.

Dull, throbbing pain radiated from his stomach, gradually fading with his consciousness.

His heartbeat stopped last, and the song became a suffocating silence.

Izuku choked out a sob as his hold on the girl's song trailed off and he became vaguely aware of her song drifting rapidly beyond his reach. He retched, emptying strings of acid into the toilet again, ignoring the ocean of noise as it overtook him again.

Just holding onto the song had taken everything he'd had. But even if he was sick or he was exhausted, he'd held onto the little girl's song till the very end. That had been all he could do. Someone had to listen, at least. Before her song died out entirely.

"Midoriya-kun?" Nousagi's voice snapped him out of the trance. He shifted and shook himself until he could speak, but his voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

"Sorry. Um. The doctors let me spend time in the hospital as a visitor in exchange for me trying to figure out what made certain patients anxious. For a little while it worked." Izuku trailed off, staring at his hands. It kept me out of the house… but I didn't think it through.

"You mentioned that your neighbor died when you were younger. I assume visiting hospitals was much more of that?" Nousagi-san murmured. Izuku sighed.

"Actually, no. Well, it was… but it was a lot worse, too." Recovery Girl's face was unreadable. Part of him was glad. He was still waiting for her to turn into another Aizawa, praying that his sensei would be the only one who insisted on digging into his past. "People die in hospitals, but they… they also get sick. A lot of people just lie there and wait. My quirk told me a lot. I learned a lot, but… learning things like that made me really sick sometimes."

"I see." Nousagi-san's voice was hoarse. Izuku was a bit surprised. She'd seemed… harder than her appearance at first. "Not only death, but that sort of thing… Are empathy quirks really so cruel?"

"No, not usually." Recovery Girl said quietly. "One of the reasons Midoriya's quirk is so strange is the exposure it offers him. I've seen empathy quirks before, but normally they're more refined. They don't flood the user unless there are extenuating circumstances. Search was one thing, but it's not emotional. He's similar to Ragdoll, but on the opposite end of the spectrum it seems."

"Ragdoll… of the Wild Wild Pussycats?" Izuku murmured, perking up some. The woman nodded.

"Ragdoll had a lot of trouble when she was young. But she learned to control her quirk, much like you have. And she's become a great hero because of it." Recovery Girl didn't say anything beyond that. Izuku hummed at her words, then took a breath.

Endeavor's office, oddly enough, was cold. Shōto paused briefly when he walked through the doors and found the hero sitting there without his usual mane of fire. Almost immediately after he walked in, Endeavor met his stare. A long, drawn out note played out between them, something that made Shōto want to snort. He wondered briefly if his father could hear the songs, or if the man was as dense as Shōto had been before his battle with Midoriya. They stared at one another as if they'd been separated for years instead of little more than a week.

'Shōto. You're here." Endeavor slipped from behind the desk easily. When Shōto dragged his suitcase further into the room, he caught the faintest traces of a song, but it was too low to make out. Or it was brief. He wasn't entirely familiar with how the music worked. "How was your trip."

Shōto's jaw worked up and down a few times.

"Fine." Was the only word he could settle on. Endeavor narrowed his eyes, then sighed through his nose.

"Good. If you're not tired, then we'll be heading to Hosu soon. My agency has decided that the Hero Killer Stain is our priority, and I'll be pursuing him. If you'd prefer, you can accompany one of my sidekicks, or myself." Endeavor's eyes never left him. Shōto paused, then tightened his hand around the handle of his suitcase.

"…I'll follow you. I have a lot to learn." He said. Something in Endeavor relaxed, and the man nodded before standing up and walking towards the door.

"We'll be leaving soon, then. Change into your costume." Endeavor paused at the door, glaring at the door knob. "Perhaps we can talk about your quirk on the way. I could answer questions."

Shōto didn't answer that, and Endeavor didn't wait for an answer. But when he followed his father out of the room, Shōto felt the lead in his chest start to evaporate.

You're on fire sir. Must be hard to hug your kids like that, Midoriya had said. Shōto hummed quietly as he stepped into the elevator beside Endeavor.

You're an intern, not… Shōto sighed, feeling something warm spread across his shoulders briefly. He's a hero, and you're here to learn. Don't read too much into it.

Katsuki stared at Best Jeanist and frowned.

"You want me to what?" He asked.

"In the Festival, you performed like a man possessed. Your power and control are incredible, but the mark of a hero is someone who can do all that and still appeal to the public." Best Jeanist flicked a comb from nowhere. All around them, the sidekicks smirked at Katsuki maliciously. Katsuki ran his eyes over them, then glanced up at the hero and frowned a little more.

"Can I ask you a question?" Best Jeanist paused, forcing the rest to jar to a halt. Katsuki let some of the tension in his shoulder relax as they froze.

"You may." Best Jeanist's tone was light, but the man seemed tense all of a sudden. Katsuki sighed through his nose and reached up… froze when he remembered his gauntlets, then cursed under his breath and clenched his fists.

"What did you see in the finals." Katsuki watched as Best Jeanist arched an eyebrow and scowled when his anger continued to boil behind his eyes. "You requested me, but you're in the top five. You know I didn't win. What did you see that made you request me anyways?"

Best Jeanist crossed his arms, slipping the comb to god-knows-where. Katsuki let up on his scowl some when the threat disappeared from his sight.

"It's as I said. You have power, control, ability… Everything about you, other than your behavior, is that of a powerful hero in training." Strings flew out from his suit and dragged a chair out for the hero to sit down. The man's eyes narrowed. "But you don't want to know about that. You mean that explosion from your opponent."

Katsuki's breath caught in his lungs. The pain of holding it too long, waiting for the hero's next words, quelled his anger some. Not enough, but some.

"I watched because I heard that there were promising young students in the first-year group. Out of the third years, the most promising have already been interned out or contracted all but officially. Normally I'd watch the second years, but… Well, you caught my eye early." Best Jeanist waved a hand at him, still borderline dismissive. Katsuki ground his teeth as air hissed from his nose. "And then we saw that boy. Midoriya something or other. Powerful, but struggling with his power. Whatever was going on with him, I'll certainly keep an ear out. During your match with him…"

Best Jeanist's eyes softened, briefly. Katsuki's eye twitched.

"Whatever he did, I know the feeling that Midoriya used." Best Jeanist stood up, glancing at a bookshelf full of awards and photos. "The feeling of being safe from anything, as long as that person was close by. Safe from anything, be it violence or villains, if only because he was keeping me safe. I haven't felt something so moving since I was a sidekick myself. My first time working with All Might, as it happens. What I saw within that explosion, whatever it was, was a boy who was willing to take the entire world on his shoulders, even at the cost of his own life."

The man's eyes hardened again, bringing the jackals around Katsuki back to life.

"I felt your will to fight die, as well. You were more interesting than that one, to me. Did Midoriya break your will, Bakugō Katsuki?"

Katsuki's frown dug hard lines into his face for a moment. Then a well of laughter bubbled up from his chest, changing from giggling to full on cackling in moments. Jeanist's sidekicks scowled at him in return.

"I'm going to be a hero. One of the greatest heroes of all!" Katsuki grinned, resisting the urge to set off his 'sparklers'. "And I'll do it my way, Best Jeanist. If that means dragging the world along, then I'll do it. But I won't break, like Deku did!"

Something about Best Jeanist told Katsuki that the man was smiling behind that dumb ass collar of his. A soft chuckle escaped the hero as his strings replaced the chair and leered down at Katsuki.

"You'll take the bit in your teeth then? You behave like a wild animal, ready to be unleashed at the nearest villain. No one will feel safe just because your wrath is headed in the other direction." The words were a challenge. It should have made Katsuki howl defiance, but he laughed and let his quirk pop over his hands. His 'sparklers' set the sidekicks on the back foot, despite their bluster.

"I'm here to learn, aren't I?"

The air around Best Jeanist warmed as if he were mimicking the edge of Katsuki's grin.

"Slip up, and I'll groom you like an animal. Understood? A hero must look the part. But if you're willing to try, then perhaps that wild appearance won't hurt." Best Jeanist strode past him, heading for the elevator. Katsuki flashed his teeth at the sidekicks in a challenge, one that left all of them checking rising tempers. "Let's be off. We've wasted enough time on philosophy. From now on, we talk about style and heroics."

Katsuki stalked toward the elevator, relishing the feel of Best Jeanist's sidekicks leering at his back. With the pressure on, and one of the top heroes smirking down at him, he'd never felt higher.

I tried to tell them.

Izuku leapt as All Might appeared, throwing another flurry of blows that Izuku managed to scrape out of. A lingering sting on his right forearm told him how close the dodge had been, but the sensation was forgotten the moment he felt it. Blue eyes bore into him as All Might circled him. Those eyes burned like small stars set in the man's imposing features, and his smile may as well have been a suit of armor. Lazily, Izuku kept his place across the floor from his mentor.

When All Might disappeared, Izuku was already dropping to the floor, pushing himself up and kicking off All Might's forward knee. His hit wasn't meant to land, but the shock was obvious, if only to Izuku.

That's five…? Izuku touched down, barely feeling the strain in his legs from using One for All. Five times I've surprised him. And I'm barely using six percent of One for All, huh…

"That's enough." Gran Torino called, startling them both. Izuku's glow faded as his mind returned, entirely, to the gym. All Might stood up and coughed, reaching to take the weights off his arms and legs. "How are you even the Symbol of Peace in that condition, Toshinori? You barely managed to scrape the boy!"

"These are half my weight." All Might chuckled as he dropped the bracelets to the floor (Izuku was sure he only did it like that because he thought it looked cool). "And young Midoriya is performing extremely well, as always."

Izuku frowned and clenched a fist, staring down at the scorch marks left on his gloves. Sparring with All Might was a good thing. The Symbol of Peace, even going easy on him while wearing the handicaps, moved faster than the human eye and swung several punches a minute. Nothing short of perfect timing let him avoid the blows.

"What is it, problem child?" Aizawa leaned down until his eyes were peering into Izuku's. He glanced back to his glove and swallowed.

"My quirk still feels strange." Izuku sighed. "Using it like this still feels awkward. I think I'm missing something."

"Sounds like you're overcomplicating things." Gran Torino called, glancing up from his cell phone for half a second before he returned his frown to the screen. "Stop doing two things at once. Just use everything you have."

Izuku grimaced and pinched his lip.

"Could you two spar for me?" Izuku flinched as Gran Torino and Aizawa looked up and gave him a pointed stare. "Um… I've been wanting to try something, and I think… Well, I need other people to see if this works."

"USJ?" Aizawa sighed. Izuku nodded and dug through his hair. Gran Torino shot a disbelieving look at Aizawa when the man turned towards him.

"You're not serious. This is supposed to be for the kid!"

"All due respect but," Aizawa sighed as he pulled his goggles from his weapon and strode into the sparring area, "I trust that Midoriya isn't wasting our time."

Izuku swallowed as his teacher looked towards him and Gran Torino shuffled past, tossing Izuku his cane.

"For his sake, I only hope that this technique has improved."

A nervous laugh escaped him, earning a curious look from all three of his teachers. Before they were done, he looked at the floor.

"Um… All Might, could you referee the fight? I need to focus." Izuku glanced up at the man's smile, noting the softness there, and offered a shaky smile to thank him as he took his place.

The void came easily. He drifted, half aware of the gym beneath his feet and All Might's confirmation that both were ready to begin. After a pause, ensuring that he'd blocked out all the songs outside the gym, Izuku delicately reached out to Aizawa's song. Music flowed through him easily, filling the void until Izuku felt every note as if it were his own.

I've only got a few shots at this… Izuku frowned as his teacher's soul reverberated within the void. The fight started, much to his dismay, and the control he had over the songs within the gym started fraying at the edges. A deep breath left him feeling as empty as the void, if only for the moment, and he regained his control. One for All came as easily as the void, almost as easily as breathing.

Just before One for All started flowing through his bloodstream, Izuku focused his song down to a string and plugged himself into Aizawa's soul. At the smallest level, nothing happened. He'd synchronized with Aizawa, but it was a delicate balance. One that Aizawa was leading. Delicately as he could, Izuku took hold of Aizawa's song, instead of simply drawing it in. Sweat formed on his forehead as he began increasing One for All, focusing on the connection he'd formed with Aizawa.

Nothing…? Izuku frowned and released the hold. He tugged frantically at his hair, squatting down on the balls of his feet when his thoughts started running wild.

Toshinori lost his muscle form a few minutes after Gran Torino and Aizawa stopped fighting. He wasn't proud of his performance, but he couldn't say that his time was going down by the day. His old mentor would hit him, and Aizawa would just say something rude.

Instead, he focused on Midoriya, who appeared to be running himself rabid.

"Midoriya." Aizawa frowned as the boy's muttering rose to a fever pitch. "Whatever you tried, nothing happened."

"He seems to know that, idiot." Gran Torino huffed. "He's barely decent at hand to hand fighting. What is this amazing technique you're expecting him to whip up?"

"During the villains' attack on USJ, Midoriya managed to connect the students and myself who were present." Aizawa muttered. Toshinori perked up when he remembered Thirteen bringing that up some time ago. "If he's working on that ability, then he may even by on par with Mandalay."

"Don't know that one. Must be new." Gran Torino waved them off. "Whatever. I still think this kid is a dud."

"Trust me." Aizawa didn't even spare a glance at the old man, which seemed to bother Gran to no end. Toshinori slid back a step, just in case. "Midoriya isn't someone you want to underestimate. He's got as much potential as any other student in this school, if not more."

"You're really playing favorites." Gran Torino groaned.

Toshinori frowned as he looked towards Midoriya. His student had stood up and begun pacing, eyes dead to the world and turned on something completely beyond all three of them. It was a look Toshinori knew well enough from their days training before Yuuei. Seeing that look sent a shudder down his spine. Midoriya was determined, and that meant that he wouldn't stop till he finished this… whatever it was.

"Sensei." Toshinori blinked when Midoriya stopped and strode over to them. "Can we give it one more shot?"

"Did you figure it out?" Gran Torino's voice twisted a bit, making no attempt to hide the mockery in his question. Midoriya barely blinked.

"I think so. What I tried before was just an experiment, but I think I know what happened. I can't use my own power," Midoriya glanced up at Toshinori, subtly acknowledging what only three of their party knew. "But I have one more thing to try."

"What are you even doing, listening to other people fight? What kind of moron just sits around doing nothing?" Gran Torino stalked back towards the sparring field. Aizawa remained, staring down at the boy steadily.

"Midoriya."

"Sensei?"

"What exactly are you going to do to me?" Toshinori was surprised at the lack of emotion in the man's tone. Aizawa seemed resigned to being Midoriya's test subject. Which… he wasn't sure if Aizawa was guilty, or actually beginning to play favorites.

"I'm going to try and play you a song." Midoriya stated. For the first time in a long time, there was no tremble in his shoulders. Whatever he meant, Midoriya was dead set on this.

I'm not fit to be a Symbol of Peace, All Might.

Toshinori raised his hand, trying to ignore the tiny hum of static that bloomed as Aizawa strode back into the sparring field. When he called the fight, he stepped back, trying his best to keep both Midoriya and the field in his view. For several minutes, there was nothing. Just… Gran Torino, attacking Aizawa and keeping the taller man on the defensive.

I can't be like All Might, but I can support them.

For the first time since he'd known Midoriya, there was no sound. He might not have noticed if they weren't all there for Midoriya's training. Gran Torino grunted when Aizawa lashed out at him, but instead of blocking, the veteran was flung backwards. Toshinori's jaw dropped when he saw Aizawa dart forward, zipping across the gap at speeds that he would never use for a simple spar. Before a minute had passed, Gran Torino was flung from the ring, and Midoriya groaned, falling to one knee.

Aizawa turned to the boy immediately.

"What the hell kind of song was that, Midoriya?" Aizawa's eyes were narrowed, but not angry. On Toshinori's other side, Midoriya was beaming.

"That… was…" Midoriya paused and took a breath. "That's what I've been working on."

Shōto blinked when his father froze, but the feeling washing over him made the reason clear. A prickling sensation brushed past him, pushing outwards as if someone had blown a bubble over the city, and left a sense of emptiness that Shōto could only called 'clarity. Endeavor glanced over his shoulder eyes hesitating on Shōto, before turning and continuing his campaign down the street.

Why, Shōto frowned as he followed Endeavor, why is Midoriya here? He's not supposed to be in Hosu! No one else is supposed to be here!

Downtown Hosu was in flames. Shōto paused as Endeavor turned a corner, halting the troupe when Endeavor realized that he'd stopped.

"Shōto." Endeavor's tone was neutral. It had been neutral since his arrival. The question in it hung in the air.

"Listen." Shōto called.

Static. Even being in class with Midoriya he'd never heard static like that. It covered the street, trailing off…

"That way." Shōto didn't bother waiting. He heard someone curse, but they followed him regardless. They made it half a block before they froze, several of the sidekicks calling out when a sense of dread flushed through the air like a haze. Quietly, Shōto could feel his nerves buzzing as Midoriya's quirk used them for cello strings.

"Go." Endeavor barely paused. He didn't glance at Shōto, nor did he pause more than a second before he continued jogging down the street. "I'll find the villains. Do what you need to. Keep in touch."

Shōto hesitated for a moment.

Endeavor… Shōto's eyes remained trained on the man's back. Then he was running down the street, letting his feet take him towards Midoriya. Frantic thoughts blurred together in his mind when he started letting the worry consume him.

He lost track of time when he turned down the last street. The alley sat near the other end, and something in the air reached a fever pitch, a frantic burst of adrenaline that left Shōto throwing himself across the street, breathing heavily.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"

A wave of panic sank its teeth into Shōto. His throat closed up, his eyes widened until tears burned in his eyelids, and the breath fled from his lungs. Something hot spread out from beyond the wall he leaned against, reminding him of the days when Endeavor would come home with a look that said 'training'.

Everything in his body locked up as darkness chased the heat, shoving Shōto from his feet and down, throwing him into an endless black pit that crawled out of his gut and swallowed him from the inside out.

The first wave had been familiar. Midoriya had done something, and it had absorbed most of Hosu. Fighting the Nomu left Shōta too preoccupied to worry about what. When Endeavor turned the beast into charcoal, he left the talking to Gran Torino. Before he could start walking, a second pulse washed over the city.

…Discordant laughter, screaming, blood rushing through the ears and thundering, erratic heartbeats…

Ice washed through his veins before his heart stopped entirely. For an eternity, time drew out and left him trapped in freefall. Nothing on the street moved. Everyone stood motionless with wide eyes as the sounds paralyzed them.

Breathing felt like drowning. The force of his next heartbeat nearly knocked Shōta off his feet, but the sounds lingered. Dread, even worse than what filled the street, bloomed in Shōta's chest as he thought of what Midoriya had said.

"New technique?"

"Y-yeah… Something like that. But it's not complete yet. I… I don't know if I can really do it."

"What's stopping you, Midoriya?"

"There's two sides to every coin, Sensei. If I can help people with something like this then…"

Shōta and Gran Torino took off running at full speed down the street.

What the hell did you learn to do, Midoriya…?

A/N: So, uh, this fic took off on this site. Like crazy, honestly. So many people have subscribed that I'm completely stunned. Over five hundred follows and over four hundred favorites? Not to mention, most of those are notes I get at the same time. Watching emails come in multiple times a day, seeing favorited and followed and just... I can't thank you guys enough for enjoying my portrayals of these characters and the twist that came from the original idea.

- Based on comments and things people have sent, I feel like my style has gotten in the way of how people may read this, or I might have confused people in earlier chapters with how I did things. From the very first chapter, things that are happening now have already been mentioned. Almost every part of Izuku's new power/technique has already been showcased, and every part of his quirk in general has already been showcased. The titles, as well, are meant to paint a picture of something. Everything that happens here is something that started from the base idea and spiraled outward, so if you have questions, PM me. Or, if you feel like something is right there and you're barely missing it... Maybe try re-reading? I do that occasionally, because I speed read things.

-A major thing, from the Sports Festival in this story, is that Izuku's Explosion, is something I took from the first chapters. One for All was described as something that 'wove together the voices of people in trouble'. Combined with Soul Song, I imagined a tapestry of people, supported by the bearer of One for All. Something like that... I can't fully comprehend it. Maybe that's why it was so strange, because even I had trouble putting it down. But that was the inspiration for One for All as it is in this story. I tried to take what I could from canon, I promise...! Things just got out of hand, heh...

-I feel like I want to address this now, due to the next little announcement line. Maybe it's self serving, but I don't mean for it to come off that way.

-On that same note, if you feel I've failed to address the darker parts of life, please come message, comment, however you can possibly reach me. I love trying to see things from your perspective so that I can reach anyone and everyone with my writing, if not this story specifically. Any failure to address how people feel in the throes of depression, or any of it, please... let me know how I can improve and reach you.

-Sadly, it's one of those times of year. I have to take a short hiatus until the end of the month so I can try to deal with finals and such. I won't stop writing, but can't promise to hold posting deadlines. Let's just say I'll have a lot to give everyone around the second week of May, and I'll hope that someone out there is looking forward to it.

-I'm working with someone who's beta-ing this chapter, so it may get edited and reposted later this week. But the content won't change drastically.

-For anyone who's interested, I've got a server on discord! If you'd like to come chat, or talk to anyone, I'm going to do my best to be there when I'm not posting. Questions, concerns, anything at all, or even if you want help with projects or just to chill, it's open to anyone!

-Discord links don't post directly here apparently. So comment or PM me if you'd like one! I'd love to have everyone join if you want to come chat

-If you're not on discord, then comment or come find me on Tumblr!