Chapter 6

There are few things in this world more awkward than running into your teacher while out doing errands.

Toshinori knows this, because he was a teenager once and he knows full well that at that age he would have wished for an invisibility quirk had he ever crossed paths with, say, Gran Torino at the corner store.

So he certainly doesn't mean to put young Midoriya on the spot. How was he supposed to know that his student and chosen successor would be spending his first weekend of the school year visiting the same department store Toshinori was?

He'd only meant to pick up a few groceries on the basement floor. The prices are good, and the selection is better than what the corner store offers. It's a quick, easy trip; it has to be, for him to pull it off in his true form.

People give him a wide berth when they can manage it. Not that it surprises him; even without the bloody vomit, people tend to be put off by his emaciated appearance. He has the kind of look about him that makes mothers point and whisper to their children about the consequences of not eating your vegetables.

The past six years have taught him a lot about tuning people out.

Still, as he gets in the back of the shortest checkout line, he's not tuning them out enough to miss the familiar mess of green-tinged hair that flashes in the corner of his eye. A few aisles down, young Midoriya is facing forward in his own line and hasn't seen him. Toshinori doesn't have a good view of his face, but he seems to be staring off into space. The boy certainly does that a lot.

Should he go up and say hello anyway? Toshinori has been wanting to speak with Midoriya privately ever since the Heroes Vs. Villains exercise, but he just hasn't had the chance. Even after six months of overseeing his strength training, Toshinori never realized just how slippery the boy is. It just goes to show; the boy never managed to duck out of training simply because he never tried. He was already right where he wanted to be.

Would it be strange to approach him now? Toshinori hesitates; the boy has an unfortunate habit of yelling his name on instinct without any regard for witnesses.

I'll catch him on the way out, he decides, and the moment the thought has completed in his head, he reaches the front of the line.

He's just paid for his things when there's a bit of a commotion at the other line. There's a man trying to pay for groceries, but it looks as if he's having problems communicating with the cashier. The customer gesticulates, seemingly ignoring what the cashier is trying to say, or misunderstanding him or… Toshinori can't tell from the distance. As he steps out of the way of the next customer, he watches and wonders what the matter is.

And then Midoriya is there, pushing his way to the front of the line. He approaches cautiously, waving for the troubled customer's attention. As Toshinori watches, Midoriya waits until the man is looking at him, and makes a series of gestures with his hands.

The relief on the customer's face is palpable. He gestures back, and it becomes a silent conversation between the two of them. Midoriya turns, says something to the cashier, signs something to the man, and it goes back and forth between the three of them, with Midoriya mediating the whole conversation.

Well. Toshinori thought the boy was done with surprising him, but it seems that Midoriya has a few left in him.

The customer finishes his transaction and makes another series of emphatic hand signs that Toshinori can only assume are profuse thanks. Midoriya makes his replies and turns to get back in line, but the next customer grins and motions at him to go first. Toshinori sees his student flush with pleasure as he complies. He doesn't have much to buy, and seems eager to duck bashfully away from the cashier's gratitude. He makes his way through, and when he looks up, he meets Toshinori's eyes.

Toshinori braces himself for the possibility of a shouted greeting, but to his relief Midoriya seems to gag himself at the last minute. Rather than calling to him, the boy presses his mouth closed and approaches him with a shy wave.

"Was that sign language?" Toshinori asks once he's within earshot.

"Oh! You, um, saw that?"

"I did."

"Yeah, it was, um…" Midoriya shrugs. "He was deaf, and he was having trouble talking to the cashier, so… yeah. What are you doing here?" He blinks, then splutters and backtracks a bit. "I-I mean, not that you don't have as much of a right to be here as anybody else, I mean it's a public place and a nice store and I didn't mean—I'm just surprised to see you, and-"

"Calm down, my boy." Toshinori claps him lightly on the shoulder. "A happy accident, that's all. I'm just here for grocery shopping. And you?"

"Oh, uh, my mom sent me." Midoriya holds up his bag. "We needed a new set of dish towels. I, um, also have to go up to the roof, too."

Toshinori tilts his head. "To the restaurants?"

"Pet supply store," Midoriya says. "I, uh, need cat food."

"Ah. In that case, would you mind terribly, my boy, if I accompanied you?"

"What? I mean, n-not at all. Sure." Midoriya turns and waits for Toshinori to fall in step with him, and the two of them head toward the elevators.

"If you don't mind my asking," Toshinori says. "Where did you learn sign language?"

"Oh, it's just something… I picked it up as a kid." Midoriya's voice trails off uneasily, and he doesn't offer anything more.

"Ah." It sounds like half an answer, if that. Perhaps it will take a bit of coaxing to get the rest of it out of him. "Well, I suppose we all have to have our hobbies. I do a little gardening from time to time."

Midoriya looks up at him, shock stamped across his face. "Really? You?"

"Don't look so surprised, my boy," Toshinori chuckles. He pauses, tilting his head thoughtfully. "For heroes, it's good to have things like that. Parts of our lives that have nothing to do with the work. We'd burn out, otherwise. Some take up handicrafts, or learn languages for the fun of it. For me, it's flowers in window boxes, fresh basil in a pot, that sort of thing. Takes my mind off things. Smiling can't solve everything, after all."

Midoriya makes a noise to indicate that he's listening, but beyond that he's quiet. He twists the handles of his plastic bag, and finally speaks up again. "Is that really something all heroes do?"

"Of course. Present Mic has his radio show. Aizawa fosters shelter cats—though, you didn't hear that from me."

That gets a laugh out of Midoriya, and some of the nervous tension in his shoulders seems to loosen. "Well, there was–" He chews his lip, hunting for the right words. "I went through this weird phase when I was seven where I didn't want to talk. I was really shy and stuff, so—anyway, my mom didn't want to push me to talk if I didn't want to, so she got some books on sign language, and we learned together." He perks up a little. "It's still really useful, like if we're somewhere loud, or if we split up at the supermarket. It beats yelling at each other from across the distance."

They reach the elevators, and Toshinori presses the button pointing up. Midoriya almost trips as he stops. He bounces a little on the balls of his feet and twists the bag handles again.

"Um," he begins. "I can meet you up there? I'm gonna take the stairs."

"To the roof?"

"Well, yeah." Midoriya grins. "Can't skip leg day, right?"

Toshinori blinks, then has another chuckle. "You really are obsessive." The elevator door opens, but Toshinori ignores it and turns toward the door to the stairwell instead. "Let's get a move on, then."

"Oh! Um, are you sure you…?" Midoriya trots to catch up to him.

"Don't you worry about me." Once the door is closed behind them, Toshinori activates his quirk. "I haven't engaged in any heroics today. Plenty of time on the clock."

"Oh, good." Midoriya sounds relieved.

"Actually, it's fortunate that I've run into you," Toshinori says. One For All makes nine flights of stairs a cinch. "I was hoping to have a word with you."

"Okay," Midoriya says, a little cautiously. "What about?"

"The exercise on the second day of school," Toshinori answers. "I was a little concerned, to be honest."

"R-really?" Caution has turned to outright nervousness. "How come?"

Toshinori considers beating around the bush a bit more and coaxing it out of him, but they only have so much empty stairwell. "I noticed you froze up at the beginning," he says. He hopes he doesn't sound too critical—wouldn't want to shame the boy into silence.

"Oh." Midoriya looks at the wall as they climb the steps. "That."

"Also, in case you weren't aware, I could hear what you all were saying," Toshinori adds. "While I knew that you and young Bakugou were acquainted, I didn't know that you had that sort of history."

"Yeah, w-well, that's all it is," Midoriya stammers. "It's history. New school, new beginning, new people. It's fine, it's just…"

"I got an earful from Recovery Girl while you were asleep," Toshinori admits.

This time Midoriya turns to him, eyes wide. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Not your fault, my boy," Toshinori assures him. "It really is mine, and she was right. I should have ended that match before you had the chance to injure yourself like that."

Midoriya makes a noncommittal noise and turns his attention to the floor again.

"The reason why I didn't was that… well, you seemed like you had something to prove," Toshinori goes on.

"Oh," Midoriya says. He's been saying that a lot.

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you prove it?" Toshinori asks. "Did you manage to get your point across?"

"Um, maybe?" Midoriya shrugs. "I don't know. I think I did. Or I just made him even madder. I don't think—I mean, I can't–" He sighs, looking frustrated. "It's not something I can fix. And if I can, I can't do it in one day. There's just too much that went wrong."

"Would you, er, that is." Toshinori mentally kicks himself for stumbling over his words. "Would you like to talk about it, or…?"

"Not really."

"Fair enough." He's not sure whether to be disappointed to be brushed off, or worried by how uncomfortable young Midoriya seems. "Just know that if you do, I'm willing to listen."

"So, sign language, huh?"

Izuku doesn't reply out loud, but he nods, and Ms. Shimura lets out a thoughtful "huh."

"Might try to learn myself, then," she says. "It'd make it easier for you to talk to me without giving yourself away."

"I can be quiet," he murmurs, moving his mouth as little as possible. He traces his finger over the stacked cans of cat food until he finds the right brand. All-Might, once more in his true form, is currently distracted by the rabbits. Rei's sticking close to Izuku's side, still eyeing Ms. Shimura with wary tolerance.

"Good for you. So, how're things?"

"Well…" Izuku puts a package of cans into his basket. "I've been trying to figure out One For All, like you said. I've been practicing calling it up, and I can do it without any trouble. But I can't use it for anything. Haven't tried." He shoots her a quick glance. "You're sure there's nothing you can tell me that might help?"

"It's not my place, kid," Ms. Shimura tells him softly.

"I'm asking you, though. I'm making it your place."

A sigh. "Look, kiddo I just… I just can't. It wouldn't be fair." Before Izuku can ask her what she means by that, she adds, "I mean, your actual teacher's standing right there, you know."

"I can't get it when I ask him," Izuku murmurs. "He's so good at it that he doesn't even have to try. It just… doesn't come to me like it does for him." A colorful feathered cat toy catches his eye, and Izuku takes it off the rack and makes his way to the cash register.

"Not your fault, kiddo," Ms. Shimura assures him. "You're learning. So's he."

Izuku glances at All-Might, frowning. All-Might, learning? He knows, logically, that All-Might must have been a student at some point. But that was long past, and injured or not, he's the top hero and far and away more powerful than all the others. The thought of him needing to learn anything seems almost absurd.

"Even old dogs can learn new tricks," Ms. Shimura says, as if reading his mind. "I think you two have a lot to teach other."

"I thought you said he wasn't old," Izuku whispers, and smiles when it brings a chuckle out of her.

The second week of school rolls around. Iida and Yaoyorozu, newly instated as class representatives, waver from time to time in their duties, but Iida especially is taking to it like a duck to water. Privately, Izuku is pleased; as much as he would have liked the position himself, he's sure Iida will do a better job than he could have.

For one thing, Iida isn't nearly as easily distracted as he is. Iida doesn't idly watch the walls when he ought to be paying attention in class. Iida doesn't mutter things to himself that have nothing to do with the math problems on the board. Iida doesn't stare off into space and grin and laugh under his breath about jokes he remembers.

Of course, Izuku doesn't do these things either. And it's not totally his fault that everyone else thinks he does.

"Midoriya. Hey, Midoriya!" It's not that Izuku doesn't like Kirishima; Kirishima's one of the nicest people he knows, probably. (He's either secretly mean or a saint, seeing as he actually seems to want to be around Bakugou, for no other reason than just because.) But Rei is neck and neck with another ghost that hangs around the classroom, in a contest to see who can make the most grotesque face, and Izuku can't tear his eyes away from the spectacle. It's only when Kirishima playfully swats the back of his head with a workbook from Cementoss's Modern Literature class that he remembers where he is.

Jarred out of his reverie, Izuku finally manages to look away with a vague blink. "Huh?"

"Oh thank God, I thought we lost you there." Kirishima grins. "Did you fall asleep with your eyes open or something?"

"No. Just people-watching." Izuku sneaks another look at the ghosts. Narita, the ghost that's challenging Rei, takes a turn and manages to make his facial features drip and melt like candle wax. Rei cackles and copies him. A few other ghosts are gathered around spectating, and laugh when Narita follows it up by twisting his head to a grotesque angle and gurgling a scream.

"Seriously?" Kirishima asks.

"It's a legitimate pastime." He's done with most of his school work. Aizawa has given them an hour of study hall while he discusses things with some of the other faculty, and he's been cagey about what's scheduled for the week. Izuku's willing to bet it's something big.

Kirishima scratches the side of his head. "Well yeah but, don't you usually do that in public, with strangers?"

One of the ghosts watching Narita and Rei's antics leaves off chuckling to vomit at least a lungful of water on the floor. Rei's shriek of discordant laughter makes one of the fluorescent lights flicker. "...I can make do," Izuku says.

"You must be so bored, dude."

"It's not so bad." The contest seems to have reached a draw; Rei would probably win with some of the faces she makes when Bakugou wanders too close, but Izuku guesses that she's having too much fun right now to get that serious.

Narita catches him looking and gives him a little wave; Izuku doesn't wave back, but quirks a small smile at him. To tell the truth, Izuku's a little curious about Narita; most ghosts at Yuuei just pass through, glance in to ease the humdrum of everyday afterlife, and move out again, but Narita has been here since the first day of school. Izuku remembers seeing him spectating at the Quirk Apprehension test, and he's seen him almost every day since. He's not the only ghost that Izuku has seen hanging around the classroom—Mrs. Kitayama pops in from time to time, dripping water on the floor that no one else sees—but he is the one Izuku has seen most often.

It's hard to miss him. Narita's younger than most ghosts that Izuku sees; he looks like a third-year in high school, at the very oldest. And besides that, he's one of those ghosts that don't feel the need to change their appearance. The bullet-sized hole in the side of his head is just as visible now as it probably was the day it killed him.

Lunch rolls around eventually, and Izuku's still watching Narita horse around in the classroom. He isn't worried about Narita's presence at all; Narita's one of the most harmless, good-natured ghosts he's ever seen. He's just curious about what his story is. But there's never a good time for a conversation, and Narita doesn't know sign language like Rei does.

He's a quick study, though. Out in the hallway, Narita's the one who who approaches Izuku. "Hey, come this way," he says, drifting ahead. "You want to talk, right? I can see it in your eyes." Izuku nods. " C'mon, then. This place has a bunch of spots people don't pass by too often. I figure you'd want that."

Izuku smiles gratefully and follows the ghost, with the ever-present Rei tagging along close behind. Narita takes them on a winding path through the hallways, until they come to a halt at a quiet, out-of-the-way nook. Rei breaks away from his side to wander off and have a look at the colorful posters and notices on the bulletin boards.

"I don't need anything, if that's what you're about to ask," Narita says. Izuku blinks in surprise, and Narita shrugs and grins. "Some of the other ghosts were saying you asked that. I'm good, though. I don't need your help."

"I'm glad," Izuku says. "I guess… I'm just curious. Were you a Yuuei student?"

Narita snorts. "Me? Nah. My quirk let me un-spoil food. Which was great for, y'know, keeping the fridge fresh. Not so great for hero work."

"Oh." Izuku tilts his head, regarding Narita curiously. "What's so special about this school that makes you stay, then?"

"It's not the school." Narita shakes his head. "I'm not even here all the time. Just when Eraserhead is."

"Aizawa?" Izuku blinks. Of all the answers he could have expected, this wasn't one of them. "Did you know him, when you were alive?"

"Nope. Never even met him. Hell, he's super underground and he hates getting hounded by the media; I'd never even heard of him." Narita taps his temple, where the small round hole still oozes blood. "See this? Not a bullet hole. Got dragged into an alley when I was walking home from school. Nasty bastard had these long claw things, could drill right through your skull with 'em." Narita shudders, and for the first time since Izuku has met him, his easy-going demeanor falters. "Dude had serious problems. That was how he got his kicks."

"That must have been awful," Izuku says, because there's really nothing you can say to that that isn't either insulting or a pointless platitude, and the latter is usually preferable.

"Wasn't my best Wednesday night, I'll tell you that much." Narita shrugs. "So I was following this guy around for a while after that, trying to haunt the shit out of him. Wasn't working, but it meant I was there when Eraserhead took him down. Easily the most badass thing I'd ever seen. I wish I'd still had my phone."

"So… you follow Aizawa-sensei because he took down the man who killed you?"

"That's part of it." Narita's smile goes soft. "See, that night? The guy was going after my sister." Izuku can't stop the little intake of breath. "Yeah. I was…" Narita bites his lip. "I was pretty sure for a while that she was gonna join me, you know? But then Eraserhead came out of nowhere and kicked the shit out of him. And I mean—he curb-stomped that bastard." His shoulders roll in a shrug. "And then he hung him from a fire escape by his unmentionables, and talked Kanon through a panic attack til the police got there. He was out the second she'd calmed down and the paramedics had her. She was too out of it to thank him. She still regrets that, I think." Another shrug. "So, I figure, I've got nothing better to do, right? If I stick around, I'll have a better chance to do it for her. I mean, he saves so many people and takes down so many villains he probably doesn't even remember it, but still. It'd make me feel better."

"Sure you don't want me to pass it on for you?" Izuku offers.

"Nah. Thanks, though. Me and Mrs. Kitayama wanna do it ourselves, right Mrs. Kitayama?" Narita's blank white eyes look past Izuku suddenly, and he turns his head to find the ever-saturated Mrs. Kitayama drifting in behind him.

"Oh, goodness, are we talking about Mr. Eraserhead?"

"You want to thank him too?" Izuku says.

"Well, yes. Sort of. It's a little different from Narita. I actually did meet him… somewhat." She frowns, and twiddles her fingers, looking faintly uncomfortable. "Well. I think he saw me die."

Izuku's heart sinks.

"My car was in the water. Some villain was attacking, and destroyed a bridge that I was driving across. He dove after us just as the car filled with water, but my seatbelt jammed, and—well. He tried his best. I know he did." Mrs. Kitayama's shoulders slump, but then she squares them again. "But! My son was in the backseat. He was just about to turn five the day the car went under. This year he started middle school, and it's thanks to Mr. Eraserhead that he gets to do that. But he couldn't save both of us, poor man, and I think it affected him at the time."

"...Wow." Izuku's chest feels full of… something. It's a feeling that he can't quite put a name to. Admiration? Sympathy? Awe? Maybe some combination of the three?

"Plus he's super underground, right?" Narita says. "So he always takes off before anyone can get in a thank-you. So people like us—we might as well wait for our chance, you know?

"I don't know for sure if it's something he needs, or even something he wants," Mrs. Kitayama says. "But before I go, I'd like to let him know that… that it's all right with me, what happened. So even if he isn't well known, he'll at least know he was appreciated."

"When his time comes," Narita adds.

For a moment an image flashes across Izuku's mind – of Aizawa-sensei, his teacher who very nearly expelled him on the first day, standing before him pale and washed out, his eyes blank and white instead of bloodshot red. Izuku shuts his eyes and shakes his head to clear away the picture.

"It's gonna happen sometime," Narita reminds him. "Hopefully not for a long-ass time, but it's gonna happen. Everybody dies, kid."

"Yeah." Izuku takes a deep breath, hoping to quell the churning in his stomach. "I know. It was nice talking to you two. Thanks."

"Whatever for?" Mrs. Kitayama asks.

"I'm just… glad to know my teacher is that kind of person." Izuku smiles past the knot of hurt that often forms in his chest when ghosts tell him stories. "I'm glad he's the kind of person that makes ghosts want to wait for him just to say thank you."

"Ahhh, get outta here." Narita brushes him off cheerfully. "Before you rot my nonexistent ghost teeth with that sap."

Grinning, Izuku complies. Rei trails in his wake, leaving him to wrestle with the sudden unwanted image of Aizawa as one of his ghosts. It's not a pleasant thought. On the walk to the cafeteria, Izuku thinks of the image, forcing it in front of his mind's eye until it dulls the sting and he can finally brush it aside.

Aizawa's a pro, anyway. If he's been underground and successful for his whole career, then obviously he's strong and he's clever and Izuku's just as lucky to be learning from him as he is to be learning from All-Might. Aizawa doesn't need Izuku worrying about him.

Besides, tomorrow is Wednesday and there's something big and exciting planned.

If rumors are true, it might even be a field trip.