Chapter 27

"S-sensei?"

Aizawa glances up. The rest of the bus is more or less empty; each exam will take place simultaneously at different UA training facilities, so the only passengers are himself and the two students he'll be evaluating.

Yaoyorozu and Todoroki should be an interesting matchup. They are both skilled fighters, but opposites in terms of skill sets; Todoroki is powerful but relies a little too much on brute force, while Yaoyorozu is clever and analytical to the point of overthinking things and losing precious time.

Moreover, Yaoyorozu has been hesitant to assert herself recently, and Todoroki is often slow to notice the feelings of his classmates. A team-up like this should present an interesting challenge for them both.

But Yaoyorozu, for all her recent self-doubts, is speaking up now. She's twirling a pencil in her fingers, tapping it against the notepad in her lap—both of which she produced with her quirk at some point during the drive. She seems to be taking notes and drawing up ideas now.

"Yes, Yaoyorozu?"

"Forgive me, if I'm being… um, impertinent, but… was it—you said the matchups were predetermined by analyzing our abilities and familiarity with one another, right? They weren't randomized?"

He nods. "Randomization is all very well for training exercises, but this is specifically an evaluation of your abilities. We made our choices carefully."

"Oh." Yaoyorozu's eyes lower, and the tapping pencil increases speed. "Um… well… m-maybe not carefully enough?" Her eyes flicker toward Todoroki, who returns her glance before looking to Aizawa as well.

"Yaoyorozu, I'm sure you and Todoroki will have no trouble collaborating for this exam—"

"Oh, no, I mean yes, of course," she says quickly. "We will, there's no trouble there. But… with, um, some of the other match-ups—well, one of the other matchups—your analysis may have been…" The pencil twirls right out of her hand and clatters to the floor of the bus. Todoroki bends down to retrieve it and hand it back to her. "…Flawed," she finishes.

Aizawa blinks, takes in the worried expression that she directs toward the ground, and the subtle furrow in Todoroki's brow. He sighs. "You two should be worrying more about your own exam than Midoriya's."

"It's just—" Yaoyorozu blurts out. "I honestly—I know I'm only the assistant class rep, but I still know the whole class, and how they get along with each other, and Midoriya and Bakugou don't. Putting them together is like—it's like oil on fire."

"I'm aware of that," Aizawa replies. "That's part of why that particular matchup was chosen."

Yaoyorozu's jaw drops. "What?"

"Those two were chosen because they're on horrible terms," Aizawa explains. "Hopefully, they'll be able to use this chance to grow in more than simply strength." He takes a deep breath. He has no obligation to explain hi-'s decisions this early, especially since Bakugou and Midoriya's exam has little to do with them, but it would be better to put them at ease before their own test begins. "Be that as it may, they'll be guided personally by All-Might, whom they both hold in high regard, and both of them have the ability to work as a team. Whether or not they can use that ability in conjunction is up to them, and the entire purpose of testing them in this way."

When he finishes his explanation, Yaoyorozu's shoulders slump, but it looks less like relief and more like resignation. "I understand your reasoning," she says quietly, and he can't place her tone. He doesn't like that he can't place her tone; it gives the impression that he's missing something. "But… but still…"

"But it doesn't make it any less of a terrible idea," Todoroki finishes for her. She winces at his bluntness.

Aizawa heaves a sigh. "If they're unable to put aside personal feelings to get the job done, then clearly they need more guidance. Determining that is the point of an evaluation like this."

"He'll get the job done," Todoroki says. He doesn't look as tense as Yaoyorozu does, slouching a little against the back of his seat. "But it's going to end badly. You should probably know that. Whatever you're trying to accomplish with this, whatever you want out of it, it's not going to happen."

He says no more after that, and Yaoyorozu returns to her notepad. Eventually, hesitantly, she scoots over to sit next to Todoroki and show him what she has written. She makes another pencil for him, and they communicate through writing, eliminating any risk of Aizawa eavesdropping on their planning.

Not that he would have, if he had the chance. Now he's preoccupied.

Now he's worried.

"You two want to play Last Letter?"

All-Might doesn't get a response. If he expects a response, than he's giving them far more credit than Izuku thinks they probably deserve. He and Bakugou are sitting as far away from one another as possible; Bakugou's sitting in a seat facing the back of the bus, just so he doesn't have to look at them.

Izuku does look at All-Might, and hopes he conveys enough of what he feels through his face alone. It's not a sure thing. Sometimes he feels so much that none of it really comes out, and his face goes blank instead. This might be one of those times.

Of course, nothing coming out of him is far preferable to, say, the contents of his stomach coming out of him. Jury's still out on whether or not he can keep that in.

It doesn't feel right, that he's scared of a school test and the worst case scenario in his mind goes so much farther than simply not passing.

"I'm sorry." Ms. Shimura is a cool, comforting presence as she sits down by him. "Wish there was something I could do to change it. If it makes you feel any better, Toshi's not the one who threw you under the bus. Aizawa was the one who figured out the matchups."

Izuku tucks his head in, using the mouth guard of his suit to hide the movement of his lips. "Will you help me?" he whispers. "With this test?"

"You asking me to help you cheat, kiddo?"

He shrugs. "Heroes should use everything they have available. Seeing you is an aspect of my quirk. That's makes you… um." He can't think of a way to phrase this.

Luckily, Ms. Shimura seems to understand. "Makes me an asset, huh?"

He gives a tiny nod.

"Tell you what," she says, with a friendly squeeze of his shoulder. "If Toshi tries to ambush you, I'll give you a yell, and we can laugh at all the funny faces he makes while he tries to figure out why he can't sneak up on you. How's that?"

In spite of the fear that churns beneath the surface, Izuku has to fight the smile off of his face. He angles his face away from All-Might before murmuring, "Thanks, Ms. Shimura."

She blinks at him, smiles fondly, and tugs gently on one of his curls. "That's 'Nana' to you, munchkin. After everything I've told you, there's no need to be all formal with me."

"Okay, Ms. Nana."

"Fair enough."

"Thanks," he says. "If you're there, maybe it won't be so—"

A small explosion from the back of the bus cuts him off. "Deku, I swear to fuck if you don't shut up—"

"I don't want to be here either," he says, and gets a stream of curses in return.

"That's hardly the best mindset to start with, if you two have any hope of passing," All-Might admonishes them both. "I'll explain the test once we arrive, but it would behoove you both to swallow your pride and try to get used to the idea of working together."

Swallow his pride. Izuku's not sure he has enough pride to scrape together into a decent mouthful, where Bakugou is concerned.

He's not fast enough to smooth out his expression, because All-Might catches it. "Less of that, young Midoriya," he says, gently chiding. "It may be unpleasant, but remember that this is a test."

"No what this is—" Izuku blurts out, then stops himself. He forces his face to smooth emptiness again, though it's more and more of a struggle with each passing minute. "This is exactly what I was actually afraid of. This is—All Might. This is the nightmare scenario." Dramatic, maybe, but it's true. This is the worst nightmare he could possibly have that doesn't involve someone dying.

All-Might doesn't get the chance to reply, because that's when the bus arrives.

Izuku drags his feet on the way out of the bus, and quickly regrets it. With All-Might leading the way and Izuku dawdling, Bakugou has plenty of time to grab him and drag him close, heedless of the shallow breaths that hiss in and out of Izuku's throat. Fumbling, Izuku tries to claw Bakugou's hand off his arm, but his former friend's grip doesn't loosen until both Rei and Ms. Nana join in his efforts. They can't quite touch him, but he lets go all the same.

"Let's get one thing straight," Bakugou hisses, far too close to his face for Izuku to feel anything but sick with old fear. He forces himself blank, keeps his limbs loose and his hands at his sides. "I don't want a fucking repeat of day two, or the fucking Sports Festival, got it? None of your shitty tricks, and no fucking games, unless you want me to blast your slackjawed fucking face off. I'm gonna win, and it's gonna be a total victory." They're not quite off the bus, and Bakugou blocks his escape with one gauntleted arm. "No more pointless fucking victories, is this getting through your head, Deku? Don't fuck this up for me." His voice is too low for All-Might to hear, but it drips with menace.

"Hurry it along, now!" All-Might calls. "We're starting soon!"

Bakugou shoulders past him, heedless (probably) of the claw-fingered swipe that Rei aims at his back, and Izuku shakes his mind free of the tangled dark thorns before he follows.

It's yet another one of UA's city-replica training facilities. But while the obstacle course where they held the rescue race exercise was more industrial-based, this place closely resembles a residential district. A twisting, maze-like residential district, the center of which was their starting line.

The test is simple enough. Thirty minutes on the clock, armed with nothing but their costumes and a pair of handcuffs. All they have to do to pass is either get the handcuffs on All-Might, or get one of them out one of the exit gates. Best of all, All-Might is already outfitted with suppressor cuffs to limit his quirk. Simple enough.

If it's so simple, then why can't Izuku stop shaking?

The test begins far too quickly, and All-Might all but vanishes into the false city. Ms. Nana goes with him, and Izuku can only hope she keeps her word from before.

"Don't follow me," Bakugou snaps at him, and sets off in… a direction. It's a piece of advice that Izuku ignores, in spite of his own better judgment. The only thing worse than having to work with Bakugou would be getting caught alone. It's bad enough in the eerie quiet, with Izuku jumping and fidgeting and eyeing every corner as if All-Might hides behind each one. Rei makes herself useful, flitting in and out of view to check their surroundings.

So far, nothing.

"We should find out how to get to the exits quickly," he says, and mentally pats himself on the back when his voice barely shakes. "All-Might probably knows this place better than we do."

"Fat fucking chance," Bakugou growls. Angry red eyes settle on Izuku for a split second too long before he turns away again. "I'm not planning on running like a little bitch. Didn't you hear me, Deku? I'm finishing this the right way."

Behind Bakugou's back, Izuku signals Rei. Find the nearest exit, he tells her. See if All-Might is blocking the way.

She hisses at him and shakes her head, pointing to Bakugou.

Go, he mouths. She bares her teeth, and they bristle like angler fish fangs. After nearly a full minute of silent argument, Rei finally relents and vanishes in a huff. Izuku is left alone with Bakugou, still with no idea where All-Might is. He keeps an eye out for Ms. Nana.

"S-so, um… what is the plan?" Izuku forces the words out past the fear gathering thick and heavy in the back of his throat. They don't have much time; at this point they have less than thirty minutes to do this.

Less than a half hour to get past All-Might.

Gran Torino once told him that his reverence of All-Might was only holding him back, shackling him from reaching his potential. That may very well be true, but it doesn't budge the fact that they haven't a chance in hell of beating the Symbol of Peace in a straight fight. His weakness doesn't matter because thirty minutes is well within his time limit, and Izuku can only manage a fraction of One For All without basically self-destructing.

"My plan," Bakugou snaps, "is for you to stop fucking following me so you're not in the way when I knock him out."

"Um. Knock out… All-Might." Izuku has to jog to keep up with him as they make their way through the city replica. Where is All-Might? Ms. Nana had said she'd warn him, but it'd be nice to know where he is right now.

"I'll lead him around by the nose 'til the thirty minutes are almost up," Bakugou snarls. "Catch him off guard when he's tired."

"Um, okay?" Disbelief momentarily muffles his nervousness around Bakugou. "Cool! Good start. Can we at least… um, workshop it? Until it's a little less terrible?"

"Get lost already, shithead!" Bakugou bridles at him, and Izuku recoils on instinct. "If you're gonna make shitty comments while I do the real fighting then fucking do it somewhere else!"

"You're s-smarter than this!" Izuku shoots back. "You know how strong he is! W-what makes you think less than thirty minutes of chasing you around is going to make him tired?" There was a small chance that it might, but Bakugou didn't know about the time limit, or All-Might's weakened state.

"Deku I swear to fuck, if you don't stop fucking following me--"

Desperation overcomes him. "Y-you said so yourself, remember? W-when we were kids, you said All-Might never—"

Bakugou whips around, and his sudden grip on Izuku's shoulder is hot and sparking with tiny explosions, too small to do more than scorch Izuku's costume. With no warning, and no time to mentally prepare himself, he blanks out immediately, and his tongue goes limp and mute in his mouth.

"Don't fucking whine at me about when we were kids, you worthless mealy-mouthed piece of shit," Bakugou grits out through clenched teeth. Izuku opens his mouth to reply, but words refuse to string themselves together in his head. His mind fills with fog and cotton, protecting itself from the sharp edges of terror.

Let go let go let go please let go please don't don't don't

Bakugou releases him and turns away, eyes burning with contempt. "Yeah. That's what I thought. You act like you're better than me, but all you are is a little rat afraid of his own goddamn shadow."

It's equal parts anger, frustration, and years-old resentment, thrown together and shaken into something every bit as caustic and volatile as Bakugou's quirk. Something dark and ugly wells up inside of him, choking off fear and shame.

"Well whose fault is that?" he spits back.

"You saying it's my fault you're pathetic?" Bakugou doesn't even turn his head. "Get the fuck off my case and stay out of the way, Deku. Maybe then you can be useful for once."

The last fiber of his fraying temper snaps, and he skims off the very top of a deep, deep well of long-repressed feelings. "You think I like being here?" Izuku bursts out, equally angry as he is desperate because time is running out and All-Might will make himself known soon and they are running out of time to come up with a plan that actually has a chance of working. "You think I wanted to work with you? I don't! I didn't! I don't trust you, I don't like you, and I don't have any reason to because I know you hate me, and I don't even know why!" His fists are so tight that his knuckles creak, and the crooked ones on his right hand ache. "But right now, we're up against All-Might, and if you stopped and thought for one second you'd know we can't just go after him head-on!"

There's no answer, but he can see the hard line of tension in Bakugou's shoulders, the way his fists clench at his sides as he trembles. It should have been a warning, but—there's Ms. Nana in the distance, waving to him, time's up—

He wants to cry, but he also really doesn't want to cry, so he yells instead. "For once in your life, would you just listen to me, Kacchan!"

He's half-blind with fear and frustration, his eyes sting with tears that want to be shed, and because of that, he doesn't see Bakugou move until it's already too late to get out of the way. Weighted by one of the gauntlets on his costume, Bakugou's arm swings around like the head of a flail.

The ground is flat asphalt. That's all Izuku knows for a moment because that's all he can feel. He can't see because of the bright starbursts of color bursting in his vision. But he can taste, and he tastes the blood trickling into his mouth. Pain shoots through his face and ricochets like a bullet through the inside of his skull, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

"Learn to shut your fucking mouth, Deku." Bakugou's voice sounds strange through the ringing in his ears. The spots in his vision clear away, but tears replace them and turn his view of Bakugou into a wet, wavering blur. "Just sit there and cry for all I care. I don't need your shitty help." He hears the scrape of Bakugou's boots on the pavement, and then—

"HEADS UP, KID!"

Izuku blinks the tears from his eyes, and only has time to recoil and brace himself before a horizontal tornado of wind pressure rips through the testing facility. It misses them by a handful of paces, and even at that distance Izuku feels flattened by the blast. His limbs feel heavy, as if he's wading through deep water, but he gropes and crawls his way for the nearest cover.

Without a backward glance, Bakugou swears fluently and charges straight in the direction of the source, leaving Izuku still crouching on the cracked pavement, half hidden by a damaged building.

The previous stillness is now fragmented, first shattered by All-Might's opening attack, and now split further by the roar of Bakugou's explosions.

"Hey, kiddo? C'mon, little bean, you gotta get up—holy hell, did you get caught up in that? Toshi wasn't even aiming for you kids, he just wanted to spook you…" Ms. Nana's voice trails off, and a cool hand closes on his shoulder. He flinches. Let go. "Midoriya? You okay, sprout? You're looking a little lost, there. You're not concussed, are you? Oh, hey Rei, gimme a hand here."

Rei's familiar not-voice rattles and statics by his ear. He gets to his feet, stumbling a little, and the ringing in his ears finally subsides.

"Better put together a plan in that head of yours," Ms. Nana advises. "Your partner's, uh, well. He's getting his ass kicked pretty hard."

Good. The thought is immediate and viciously satisfying, for the split second before remorse crushes it. He peers out and—yeah, Bakugou's in trouble. He's charging in again and again, fists flashing with explosive power, but All-Might tosses him around effortlessly, just as Izuku knew he would. He could have told him—did tell him.

All-Might's pulling punches; Izuku knows he is because if he weren't then Bakugou would probably be dead, suppressor rings or no, but it's not by much.

He needs help.

The little voice that reminds him of that is so quiet now, so small, lost in the twisting pitch-black sea inside of him.

He needs help. He's in trouble and alone and hurt and maybe he's scared, too.

The little voice calls and calls, and from within that sea comes an answer.

So was I.

"Izuku?" Ms. Nana's voice cuts through the soupy fog in his head. "Clock's ticking, sprout. If you have some kind of game plan here, then you'd better act fast."

The blood stiffens as it dries, crusting over his upper lip, his mouth, his chin. He licks at it, and some of it crumbles off on his tongue.

"I know," he says. "Don't worry. I'll be fast."

Bakugou is relentless, or at least as relentless as a boy his size can be against Toshinori. Six years ago, these blows would have barely tickled, but now a few of them hit a touch too close to the wound All For One gave him, and only decades of training his self-control keep him from showing that pain on his face.

With a swift twist, he tosses Bakugou to the ground and casts about for his other student. Young Midoriya is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn't mean anything. He's nearby; Toshinori can sense that much. But his successor is a crafty one, and possesses a healthy respect for All-Might that verges on reverence; he won't attack head-on the way Bakugou does.

Or perhaps he will; after all, that's what Toshinori least expects.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't almost eager to see what the boy comes up with. He likes the way Midoriya surprises him.

What will you do, my boy? he thinks. How will you think your way through this one?

Bakugou mistakes his pensiveness for distraction, and propels himself into another nitro-fueled charge that carries him straight into Toshinori's waiting fist. When Toshinori hits him, Bakugou vomits.

It certainly brings back memories, seeing that. Once upon a time, he'd lost count of how many times Gran Torino made him spew. As a boy he'd made a vow, that if he ever took on a student, he'd never work them hard enough to make them puke.

How times have changed.

He doesn't want to, and he immediately wishes he hadn't, but Bakugou doesn't seem to respond to anything but loud and violent wake-up calls.

"You're frustrated," he says, standing back to let Bakugou finish retching. There's some distance between them; that punch drove Bakugou back by several meters. "And I understand why. You've noticed young Midoriya's growth, haven't you?" Aizawa told him about the revelation that Midoriya has been training in private with Todoroki—and happened to mention Bakugou's furious reaction to it. The boy's newfound control of his quirk probably hasn't helped. "You must know he started from a much lower level than you—you can't compare your pace that way, and it's pointless to be frustrated by someone else's efforts."

Bakugou staggers back to his feet as Toshinori closes the distance between them. He looks weary; already he's used almost as much power against Toshinori as he did over the course of the entire Sports Festival; he, too has a healthy respect for the Symbol of Peace, for all that he shows it in a different way. He doesn't answer.

"It's such a waste!" Toshinori tells him, willing him to listen, to understand. "Instead of feeling threatened by his improvement, why not focus on your own? You have so much growing to do, boy! And not just with strength!" He's tempted to nudge him towards teamwork; this may be an exam, but if that's what it takes for a breakthrough, then Toshinori can't regret telling him the answer.

This time, instead of replying, Bakugou attacks him again.

As he fends off the furious boy, Toshinori casts about once more, searching for his missing student. For all his brashness, young Midoriya has shown a hint or two of promise in the area of stealth. He'll exercise more caution than young Bakugou, but they only have so much time to regroup and retaliate with a proper plan, if they manage it. The boy will make his move soon, or risk having his only ally be out of commission, and face the strongest hero alone.

"Where is your partner, young Bakugou?" he asks, as he swats aside an explosive punch. "Do you even know? Did you pause, even for a moment, to consider what he can offer you?"

"Fuck that," Bakugou chokes out. "Like I told that lying little shitheel. I don't want another worthless victory." He spits bile and brings his hand around for another blast, but Toshinori turns it aside with ease. "If it means having to borrow his shitty power, then I'd rather lose."

As if in answer, the ringing of a distant bell echoes across the facility.

Toshinori's head comes up, startled. Was that the signal for the end of the exams? Surely the half hour isn't over already—the boys should have had more time than that to overcome him.

Beside him, Bakugou lets out an unearthly shriek. Toshinori blocks another blast, and another and another, until Bakugou's furious barrage drives him back a step. Red eyes wild with rage, the boy throws himself at Toshinori in a reckless, desperate series of attacks.

"NO!" he roars.

"Young Bakugou—"

"GOD DAMN IT, NO!"

"My boy—"

"I told him!" Bakugou screams, as tears of rage gather in his eyes and his attacks slow, not from giving up but from pure exhaustion. "I fucking told that slimy little shit! I'll kill him!"

It's for his own good; Toshinori suspects he might have cracked a few ribs with that punch, and if the boy keeps carrying on like this, then he'll only do himself serious injury. And so, as gently as he can manage, Toshinori seizes him in a sleeper hold. He's out in a matter of seconds, and Toshinori maneuvers him gently under one arm and checks the time.

There are almost twenty minutes left on the clock. Toshinori gapes at the frozen timer, speechless. He's not sure if he would have been more or less dismayed if the timer really had run out.

Because the fact that it hasn't can only mean one thing.

When he reaches the exit, the boy is waiting for him, leaning with his back against the side of the gate. He straightens when Toshinori reaches him, still with Bakugou's unconscious form cradled in one arm.

"Midoriya," he says sternly, but gets no further.

It's not that the boy interrupts him. He doesn't need to. The first thing Toshinori sees is his student's face—and his nose must be broken, for it to look like that. Dried blood covers most of it, smeared and dripping from his nose and mouth down to his chin and throat. What little skin is still visible in those areas is red with fresh bruising. And above it all, sunken green eyes stare up at him, sharp with mingled pain, fear, and defiance.

(And this all begs the question, how did young Midoriya come to look like this, when All-Might hasn't seen hide nor hair of him since before the exam started, and knows for a fact that his first smash attack was a warning shot intended to miss?

The answer, of course, ought to be obvious.)

"My boy," All-Might sighs. "It seems you've missed the point of this test."

"You're disappointed in me." The boy's voice is cold. Flat. Far too calm for the look in his eyes.

All-Might doesn't answer, but he expects that the look on his face is answer enough.

"Good."

He blinks at his student, shocked. "Good?"

"Means it worked, didn't it?" the boy replies, and beneath a smokescreen of nonchalance, his voice very nearly shakes. "I can't beat you. Not without help, and—and Bakugou wouldn't help. So I knew I'd have to trick you instead." His throat bobs as he swallows. "Or at least I'd have to surprise you. I'd have to do something you wouldn't expect." He's shaking now, staring into Toshinori's eyes like he's afraid of what will happen if he looks away. "And you'd never expect me to do anything to disappoint you, right?"

Something is terribly wrong.

The realization hits him abruptly, but not out of nowhere. It's unexpected, but to Toshinori's mind it eerily makes sense, as if it's simply the culmination of something that's been building just outside of his line of vision, something he'd only half-noticed before being forced to face it head-on.

He doesn't know exactly what it is; and he wonders if he might have if he'd paid better attention.

The only thing he does know for sure is that a visit to Recovery Girl is in order. The trip is a quiet one; the shaky defiance leaves Midoriya with an abruptness that worries him, and pure exhaustion keeps Bakugou from rousing along the way. It's the exact opposite of the harrowing exercise on the second day of school; Midoriya is on his feet but tight-lipped and silent, and Bakugou is battered, exhausted, and dead to the world.

He's done something wrong; the feeling sticks with him, as if multiple pairs of disapproving eyes are fixed on the back of his head, but when he turns around, no one is there. He's done something wrong, or at the very least he hasn't done something that would have been right.

It doesn't go away when they finally do get to Recovery Girl's medical tent, because now there's a pair of disapproving eyes that he can actually see.

"I'll see to them," she says briskly, getting Bakugou situated on one of the empty cots.

"Has anyone else come in?" he asks. Midoriya hasn't looked him in the eye since meeting him at the gate.

"Not yet," she replies. "You were the first to finish, though Todoroki and Yaoyorozu also completed the exam while you were on your way." A pause, and a glance to Midoriya. "They passed. No serious injuries, but they'll also be seeing me just to be safe. Should be here shortly."

His time runs out abruptly, his body deflates, and heavy exhaustion settles around him like a weighted blanket. Even his costume feels heavy. Tutting quietly, Recovery Girl chivvies him out of the room.

"No arguments, now," she orders, when he's about to open his mouth to do exactly that. "Be off with you, before the other boy wakes up." It shouldn't be so easy for such a tiny old lady to buffalo him no matter what form he happens to be using, but in spite of serious misgivings, he allows himself to be shown out.

At the door, her voice drops nearly to a whisper. "It was bad judgment," she says.

"What?"

"Forcing those two together for something so important." The old woman scowls. "It'll all come out once you review the footage, but if you happen to run into Aizawa, tell him I said that, would you?"

She's gone before he can form a reply.

"Well, now that he's squared away, let's have a look at you."

Recovery Girl's voice is brusquely kind as usual when she comes back from tending to Bakugou, and Izuku is impossibly grateful for it. She sits him down on a cot, all brisk business, and shines a light in his eyes. Her mouth is pinched with displeasure, but for once, Izuku knows that it isn't directed at him. Of course, knowing is different from internalizing, and therefore it doesn't stop his gut from twisting and shriveling up inside him. Rei isn't around to reassure him; she's standing guard over Bakugou like she doesn't trust him to stay where he is despite being unconscious.

"Well, you aren't concussed." The flashlight clicks off, and she puts it away and fetches a clean towel. She wets it with warm water and carefully cleans away the dried blood on his face. "Sorry for making you wait," she continues. "I had to see to his injuries first because they were a bit more serious—and for no other reason than that, understand?" She frowns at him, and he reminds himself that that's not a disapproving frown; it's a you-had-better-believe-me frown.

He nods.

"Any dizziness?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

"Nausea? Problems with vision?" More head-shaking. "How about breathing? Can you breathe all right?"

He pauses, then reluctantly shakes his head. He's been breathing through his mouth since Bakugou punched him.

"Hmph. I was afraid of that. Just a moment." She stretches up and presses a quick kiss to his temple. Almost immediately the pain in his face eases, though it doesn't vanish entirely, and she gives him a box of tissues and instructs him to blow. It's painful and absolutely disgusting, seeing snot and congealed blood come out, but the results are swift. His face still aches, but he can breathe again. "Better?"

He nods.

"Good. I've fixed the bones and cartilage in your nose and sped up the healing process a few days on that bruising. It'll still ache a bit, and it shan't be pretty, but it'll clear up before the week is out. And you'll get out of it without a nose like Todoroki's." Something pings, and she takes out a phone and checks it. "Ah, speaking of whom—just a moment."

She walks back to the entrance to the medical tent, and returns with Yaoyorozu and Todoroki in tow, both of whom stare a little wide-eyed upon seeing him. They both look battered and worn out, though not as bad as Izuku—or Bakugou, for that matter.

"We're all right, for the most part," Yaoyorozu tells her. "Aizawa-sensei sent us straight to you anyway, because he didn't want to give you a reason to yell at him."

"Oh, he already has," Recovery Girl says darkly, and Izuku twitches at the steel in her tone.

"O-oh," Yaoyorozu says, a little awkwardly. "Well then. Hello, Midoriya—congratulations on being the first to complete the exam!"

Izuku can only nod, and try not to flinch.

"That was fast," Todoroki remarks. "How'd it go?"

Izuku opens his mouth to reply, and after a moment he closes it. The words won't come, and he knows better than to try and force them. At best he'll only look foolish; at worst he might alarm them enough to raise questions. He would rather avoid both, so he shuts his mouth and shrugs instead. His hands fidget in his lap, itching to sign a reply, but no one in this room knows sign, so he sits on his hands to still them.

Hopefully the muteness will go away before anyone gets worried.

It doesn't take Recovery Girl long to look them over and see to their injuries, which only leaves them both even more exhausted than before. It's going to be bed rest on school grounds for the lot of them, once she's done her work.

"What's wrong with Bakugou?" It's Todoroki who asks that question, and if Izuku weren't struck mute before, then he definitely is now.

Luckily, Recovery Girl answers. "All-Might brought him in unconscious, and the healing I did took a lot out of him. He won't wake up forquite a while, I expect."

"Wow," Yaoyorozu looks to Izuku through drooping eyelids. "You'll have to tell us how yours went later, Midoriya. I mean, Aizawa-sensei was tricky enough, but fighting All-Might…" Her voice trails off a little before she continues. "That bruise looks pretty bad," she says gently. "And if Bakugou's out of commission, it must've gotten pretty intense."

Izuku's fingers curl into the edge of the cot, and the thickness in his throat turns painful.

"Would've thought it'd be the other way around," Todoroki remarks, and his words are light and casual but they land like a gut punch. "Usually it's you who comes out with the worst—Midoriya? W-wait no, I didn't—"

Izuku doesn't have the energy to try to stop it, or even to want to stop it. Hot tears spill unchecked down his blank, empty face, and Izuku wants to die. Being a ghost can't possible be as bad as this—as sitting like a waste of space while all his shame and frustration boils over. It's not the first time he's cried in front of Todoroki, but it's the first time he's ever seen his friend look at him with this much alarm and confusion and instant regret, like it's his fault Izuku is crying when it isn't, it really isn't. It's no one's fault but his, that's he's a coward and a cheat and really the furthest thing from a hero. He should have learned the lesson that Aizawa-sensei and All-Might were trying to teach him, but all he did was lose his temper and lash out again, and it doesn't matter why he did it, because what he did was abandon someone—see someone hurt and in trouble and needing help, and turn and walk the other way he needed help, but nobody came—

All because Bakugou had hit him and Izuku had wanted to hit back, and that was the best way he knew how to hurt him: to spite him with another worthless victory.

As his body shudders with unvoiced sobs, a hand lands awkwardly on his shoulder, too light and hesitant to be anyone but Todoroki, who isn't fluent in physical reassurance

Izuku wishes he could feel like he deserved it.