53

Chapter 53: How They Affect UsNotes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Neito had never been the greatest athlete, but he also wasn't a slacker by any means. He had never been one of those morons that thought that just having a good Quirk meant they could take it easy.

For one, nobody but his closest family members had ever thought that [Copy] was a good Quirk. I mean, why would they? It wasn't like it was literally in the most peculiar subcategory of Meta Quirks—more unique than rare—and could give him access to (almost) any other Quirk he came in contact with, right?

Any Quirk could be called "unique," of course. "Have you heard that no two snowflakes are the same" and yadda yadda yadda... But it was also true that a lot of Quirks resembled each other to the point where calling them differently was just a matter of naming convenience. In a sense, being able to directly feel the inner workings and nuances of every ability he came in touch with took away some of the magic. Quirks evolved with each generation, but very different people could end up with the same one, just expressed differently because of genetic variances or passively inherited traits. He'd seen his fair share of generic [Muscle Increase], [Improved Eyesight], and [Smart], and none felt particularly unique. At least, they weren't unique in the same way [Copy] or the other ones were. He still loved analyzing and using most Quirks, but he had more insight than most on their "uniqueness," or lack thereof.

For two, he was smart enough to know that just being smart wouldn't let him reach the heights he wanted to as a Hero, as his goal wasn't something easy to achieve. Keeping his body in shape was tantamount to improving his chances of success. Anybody could tell you that there wasn't a single Pro Hero that could be called out of shape—and no, Fat Gum obviously didn't count. Looking good for the cameras was one thing, but this was a highly dangerous profession where the lightest mistake could cost people their lives. What happens to a Pro whose reflexes aren't up to par, or whose lungs and muscles can't bear the fatigue of a fight? They die. The rosiest alternative of retiring wasn't as common as many would believe it to be. 

So, there really was no reason for Neito to be his own obstacle—he had enough as it was. 

He had spent his time training, as any student shooting for U.A. worth their salt would. Nothing crazy or outlandish, as he knew his limits, but enough to be able to do his job even when he couldn't rely on others' Quirks. He would never be as physically gifted as Shishida was, nor as focused on his body as Tetsutetsu or as technically proficient as Kendo, but he could confidently say that he deserved his place in his class. "Mens sana in corpore sano" was a good maxim, if a bit old.

Still, getting used to running each morning around dawn had been a tad harder than he had hoped for when he'd taken Midoriya's suggestion. He knew the "It gets easier every day, but you've gotta do it every day—that's the hard part," saying, and now he really agreed with the last bit. It was hard. He wasn't stopping, but his grogginess wasn't helping in the least.

And, talking about the green-haired, gold-hearted, previously-Quirkless, frighteningly powerful teen, he had just slowed down to run by his side. Ever since their last chat, Monoma had kept wondering how somebody with that kind of past could smile at the world like that and if he would have been able to do the same, had he been in his place...

"Monoma! Good morning!"

"Good morning, Midoriya," he replied, dosing his breath so as to not run out. "It's been a while since we last chatted during a run," he noted. 

"It has," the other nodded. "I just didn't feel like pushing myself too much today, with it only being Monday..." 

"Is that so?" Neito let out a chuckle. It wasn't as "Plus Ultra" as one would have expected out of the Class Representative, but the blonde knew that he wasn't just a mountain of brainless muscles—few assumptions would have been more wrong. Which meant that he must have had some specific reasons not to do so.

"Yeah... And I also needed to talk with you about something..."

- Quod erat demostrandum, - he mentally grinned, expecting the conversation to be another interesting one.

"Though I think I should start by saying that I'm taking a shot in the dark here, since I think you may be the only one that could help," the greenette admitted. 

Oh, now he had piqued his interest. Those were some captivating words to say to someone accustomed to being the second choice at best. 

"I'm all ears," he said with a measured smile, letting Midoriya start. 

"Thanks..." The guy took a measured breath before starting with a calm, but somewhat worried, tone. "It's about Tokage. I know that you've been her friend since the year's start, and I can't think of anybody else she might have talked with about this, given the... peculiar thoughts you've shared with me last time."

Neito's eyes widened at the unexpected wording. He suddenly felt very much awake. They had shared a variety of theories, thoughts, intentions, and memories, but there was only one thing that would warrant that wording. 

- Of all the things... Could she really have...? - 

"Go on," he requested, trying to not let himself panic at the prospect of what Midoriya might have seen. He didn't seem like the type to outright shun Tokage because of her Quirk, but he couldn't take anything for granted now.

Midoriya nodded, starting his retelling of the previous night's events. They had to come to a stop and sat on a nearby bench midway through, so anxious was he getting by simply listening.

Neito waited for him to finish to comment. 

"Fuck." 

It wasn't classy, but if the shoe fits...

"Yeah..." Midoriya rubbed the back of his head. 

"It's somehow both worse and better than I expected," he confessed with a grunt, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why didn't I think that she might end up there? Right, because she should have known better- but then I knew that she was so obviously going to follow anything Eri asked of her! Especially regarding dinosaurs!"

"It's not your fault. Who could have predicted this outcome?" the greenette sighed. 

- I should have. I should have done a lot of things, - he mentally grunted. Still, he hid how the guilt flared in his chest. Midoriya was only trying to reassure him, and he didn't have the full picture. 

"Moreover, I should be the one to blame for it," Midoriya let out, his shoulders sagging as his back bent. "If only I had brought back Eri by myself..."

"No. There was no way you could have stopped Tokage once she decided to come," Neito nipped those thoughts in the bud. The lizard girl was smart as hell, but she could be incredibly stubborn. Changing her mind after she had made a decision was like trying to capsize a charging bull by grabbing the tips of its horns: Theoretically possible, but with high chances of maiming.

He placed a hand on Midoriya's shoulder, squeezing lightly in an attempt to be comforting. "Actually, you probably saved the night. The way you kept your cool after her loss could have been crucial to stop what I think must have been a panic attack." 

Midoriya turned, his eyes meeting Neito's without an ounce of insincerity. "Why wouldn't I?" 

"Come on, you know how her Quirk works and you're smart enough to make the connection," he huffed. The guy had experienced on his own skin how haters could react to a Quirk they didn't like, or the lack thereof.

Midoriya remained silent for a second before letting out an annoyed grunt. "I mean, I know why some people react badly, but it still doesn't excuse it. Why would I ever do that? Who would?" 

The blonde's mouth remained closed as he thought back at how the class had responded at seeing Kamakiri's mistake during their first battle trial, when Tokage's head had been split apart... That had been only part of Tokage's power, and yet more than a few had needed to hold down their stomachs. He too, had he seen it, would have probably suffered from the sheer impact of how gory the act could have been if anybody but Tokage had been in her place—and that was despite already knowing the girl's abilities.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Neito grunted, slowly shaking his head to put aside the unpleasant memory. "Not everyone can be as understanding as you are, Midoriya." 

The teen's brow furrowed with a hint of directionless anger for a moment before relaxing as he replied with his previous calm tone. "I'll take your word for it." 

The two remained in silence for a moment, then Neito asked, "So, any idea on how to deal with this? How do you think I could help?" 

"I don't know," Midoriya sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "If this thing is as dangerous to her as we think it might be, somebody should know. She's putting herself at risk constantly." Neito grunted in agreement as the other continued. "I was thinking that maybe talking about it with somebody else might help her, but I also don't want to force her to say it." 

"That's a dead end," Neito tsked. "She hasn't said anything until now, and she doesn't want to. I don't blame her for being scared. I get it. Her life might be at risk by his presence alone, but she's just a student while he's a full-fledged Hero. Why would the school prioritize her over him?" -Or anybody else. -

"It doesn't have to be that way. It's not one or the other," the greenette said, more positive than any of them had any right to be.

"Maybe. But she doesn't want to risk it." - As stupid as it may be. -

Midoriya sighed, shaking his head. "Does somebody else-" 

"No," he interjected. "Not even Kendo and Pony know. Damnit, not even her grandmother does, and she's the one who could do something about this whole mess. She also made me swear not to talk about it. Had you not approached me with it, I would have taken it to the grave." 

- Or until the knowledge could have saved her life, - he bitterly thought, knowing how he would have been cutting it close in that case.

Midoriya gave him a small smile. "You're a good friend, Monoma." 

"Please," he rolled his eyes, "don't you get sappy with me now. That's friendship 101." 

"Quirkless kid," the other pointed out.

Neito grunted. "Right..." Again, hard to say how the guy managed to be so positive despite it.

He went back to his tirade with a frown. "Still, it only got worse since then. Erased Head hasn't activated his Quirk once on us during Heroics, not even in passing. Now, despite being scared shitless, Tokage can argue that it's not that dangerous to her. It doesn't matter that she spends more time hiding behind Bondo and Shishida than by Pony's side because of that damn sword of Damocles, she can say that she's fine. The bastard has given her an excuse to-"

"He can't be held responsible for something he doesn't know," Midoriya interjected. "He's not using [Erasure] on us as often as you thought he would, if at all. Isn't that worth something?"

He scoffed, but knew that the other had something resembling a point. The Eraser Head he saw in class wasn't that far removed from the poor excuse for a Hero he had known for a decade, but Midoriya wasn't blind to his faults like others were. The greenette could recognize them as well, though he had the—in this case, insufferable—tendency of seeing the best in people. At least with him Neito could share his thoughts without the fear of being reprimanded or hated for saying that Heroes were fallible, and that some didn't deserve to touch a license with a stick, let alone use it legitimately.

"Sure, I'll give you that, but it still doesn't solve our problem. It's only an indeterminate delay," he said, crossing his arms and giving the other a side look. "Moving on before I have to think any more about him, other ideas?"

"I still think that sharing would be the best one," Midoriya said without missing a beat, looking thoughtful, "but perhaps we're taking it backwards."

He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Maybe we could share our problems first? Let her see that she's not alone, even if they might not be on the same... 'level'?" the greenette proposed, his eyes full of hope. "Do you think that would make her a bit more comfortable?"

"She already knows everything I told you about my family and I, and I don't think getting your story would do more than 'making things even,' as bad as that sounds," he sighed, lightly shaking his head.

The greenette went back to frowning, looking down and releasing a frustrated huff. "But then what can we do with just the two of us?" 

He opened his mouth to reply but closed it as he repeated those last words in his head. The two of them were the only ones who knew about Tokage's problem, but were they actually limited by that number in their efforts to help? Of course, they would never go and blab about it, since the girl had asked them to keep quiet, but was it necessary for others to know everything about it to help? No, it wasn't, and Heroes didn't need a reason to rescue people in distress.

Neito blinked, thinking for a moment longer. In his fifteen years he had met a number of people that could say to have had no problems at all with their Quirks... and they probably could be counted on his fingers alone. Of course, most people only had minor inconveniences... but that probably wasn't the case for most of their classmates. The greater the power, the greater the rebound.

- Heteromorphs... Dangerous or Villainous Quirks... Requirements and contraindications... Damn, it might not work, but what if... - he thought, noticing that he had slowly started to grin. 

"Midoriya, I think you might be onto something there," he stated. "We'll just have to work a bit for it, get some outside help... and we would both have to lead by example."

The Class Representative smiled at his showy, infectious positivity. "What's the plan?" 

Nirengeki chuckled at Kodai's last sent pic—the last of a long series of memes, book snippets, cute images, and chess, shogi, and go strategies—and replied by liking it with a smiling emoji. His previous attempt at replying with anything more had caused her to stop chatting for a few days, so he had gone back to the more secure exchange not to give her any reason to panic. Being a trigger for her selective mutism was the last thing he wanted.

He was about to go back to his book when the front door opened, letting in Monoma and Midoriya. 

A month ago, Nirengeki might have been worried if Monoma, after not being seen for a full afternoon, came back with several posters under his arm, but thankfully they had left that annoying part of their classes' relations in the past. Moreover, both the blonde and the greenette were smiling, so it wasn't like anything too bad could have happened.

Intrigued, he watched as the duo approached the board near the dorm's entrance and started posting something before getting up and approaching them, his eyes glancing at the written text. He let out a short hum of surprise, catching their attention.

"A support group?" Nirengeki asked as he watched Monoma affixing the last flier.

"Yes, though the title's mostly for simplicity's sake," the blonde moved his hand horizontally in the telltale sign for "so-so."

The noise and the teens' voices started to gather a few curious onlookers from the students chilling on the first floor. Games and books were nice pastimes, but the appeal of something new or unique was a good enough bait to let them flock over.

"Uh, what's this now?" Kaminari asked, his curiosity piqued.

"More training?" Tetsutetsu almost barked in glee, while Honenuki and Shiozaki joined the gathering more quietly.

"Let me see, please and thank you~" came Ashido's bubbly voice as she skipped closer and whisked away one of the flyers from the blonde's arms.

Since those looking at the board took up enough space to make it unreachable, the rest of the group began to stretch their necks to gaze at the flier in the horned girl's hands. 

Nirengeki's question was repeated, this time coming from the invisible Hagakure. "So you're making a support group?"

"Again, not quite," Monoma shook his head. "I mean, that could be the end goal, but for not we're just organizing a first meeting to test the waters."

"Interesting," Shishida—who had been sitting right between him and Ida—thought aloud as he contemplated the idea. "And I suppose the teachers are aware of the project?"

"Of course! It has been personally approved by both Nezu and Hound Dog, and the session will be run by our counselor," Midoriya explained reassuringly. The greenette pointed between Monoma and himself. "We may be good at analyzing Quirks and stuff, but we're not exactly equipped to help in the same way he could."

"We know our limits," the other admitted with a shrug.

"That's a relief," the vine-haired girl breathed out.

"Indeed. Though, as relieved as I am to be hearing this," Ida started, pensively holding his chin, "I wonder, what brought this on?"

Midoriya rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, it's nothing grand. We were just talking about how we both had some problems adjust to our Quirks-" 

"You did?" Tetsutetsu interjected, clearly dumbfounded. 

The greenette answered with a short, melancholic laugh. "Trust me, I would have loved something like this a few years back."

"Anyway," Monoma took the reins again, "we both found the experience to be somewhat... cathartic. Then we thought, 'Hey, could we really be the only ones that need to vent? What if somebody had a similar experience, and what could we do to help them?' One thing led to the other, we ran it by Nezu, and now we're here."

"I see," the tall bluenette responded. "As always, you're nothing if not helpful, Midoriya." 

"It was more of Monoma's idea," the other corrected. "But I thought it could do a lot of good! It might be hard to talk about hardships before strangers—or at all—so, maybe, doing it between friends that went through something similar might work better."

"Not to be defeatist, but couldn't it also make it worse?" Honenuki pointed out.

The thought had, in fact, passed through Nirengeki's mind as well. Forcing people to open up very rarely led to good results.

"Like, 'cause others might make fun of you?" Kaminari asked.

"Wh- Only bullies would do that!" Ashido countered with a mix of anger and annoyance.

"But anybody could make the wrong comment at the wrong time," Nirengeki said with a sigh. "Words can hurt, and it's hard to see the good side of things when you're feeling vulnerable and exposed. Even something more lighthearted like jokes could be misinterpreted and cause friction."

"Indeed. In some cases revealing your struggles to your peers is a struggle in and of itself," Shishida nodded, his tone heavy, letting Ashido and the others dwelled on their words.

Monoma was about to open his mouth, but Ida started speaking first.

"I perfectly understand what you mean," the bespectacled teen nodded, gazing downwards. "The thought of bringing others down with the weight we carry can be daunting. It's my pain, so I should be able to endure it; it's my burden, so I should be the one to stand up to the challenge. Why let others share the same grief, when they could easily go on with their lives without it? It almost feels like making others suffer on purpose, and that seems grossly unheroic to me..."

The teen's voice carried a dejected weight to it, and it was easy to tell by everyone's faces how none had expected such words from Ida. Then, the bluenette straightened his back and looked back between Shishida and him. 

"But it's also true that there is no other reason to not let others help us carry our burdens. What might feel impossible to bear by yourself, being as overwhelming as it is shattering, might just need to be carried by two or more to become acceptable, light even." His eyes moved on the duo before the board, and his hand pointed to the affixed flyers.

"I think that Midoriya and Monoma are on the right path. There is no need to let yourself crumble when you have the option to talk with the right people and ask for a helping hand. Chances are you'll see your problem being solved in a way you would have never thought of alone. And, even if the situation doesn't get resolved instantly, I'm sure that verbalizing your sorrows would be... liberating." The guy's expression was now both determined and amicable, a small smile easing the resolve in his blue eyes. "I, for one, would never make fun of others' hardships, and I swear that I'll have your back if any of you ever came to me with these sorts of problems."

The rest of the group stood in silence for a few moments, locked between admiration, astonishment, and some worry. Ida didn't seem like the guy to have that kind of openness to introspection... but it wouldn't be the first time one of the Hero Course students revealed himself to be capable of much more than expected.

The silence was broken by an impressed whistle, heads turning towards Kaminari. "Man, that was...." 

"Couldn't have said it better," Midoriya smiled widely.

"A bit stiff on the delivery, but I applaud the monologue," Monoma joined in, seeming equally pleased.

"Yeah! It was great!" Ashido jumped in place.

"Excellently put. You shall love your neighbor as yourself," Shiozaki nodded with a graceful expression.

"I guess that makes sense," Honenuki agreed, conceding the point.

Ida's cheeks colored with a hint of red as he waved his hand to take away some of the heat. "I just said what ought to be said."

"No, it was frighteningly well put," Shishida spoke with a lighter— but still serious—tone as he shook his head while wearing a smile. "Thank you, Sir Ida."

After Monoma reminded them to try and share the news so that everybody would bother giving the flyers a look, the group started dispersing. Nirengeki went back to his seat, but his mind wasn't fully committed to reading anymore, and it probably wouldn't be for a few hours.

He knew that his own words weren't wrong, as they had been a product of personal experience, but Ida's also rang true in a unique way. Did he speak through something he had lived too? Had he become better after facing his hurdles with the help of another?

He took one more look at the poster on the board. Maybe he could ask Kodai if she wanted to go... Of course, she would still have trouble talking before so many people, and it all went back to how it wasn't his place to push her. But even then, those with the same troubles as Kodai's often found it very hard to express themselves without help, and it wouldn't do to let her feel abandoned if everybody else managed to step forward.

Perhaps he could ask for help from just one or two people?

Setsuna would have liked to tear down the idiot's door, but she also didn't want to cause a ruckus. Hearing a nonchalant, "Door's open," coming from inside the room, the lizard girl didn't waste time in sliding in and closing the door behind herself, deterring possible snoopers.

The guy was at his desk, keeping his eyes still on his homework. She would have expected him to be done with it already, but apparently this stunt of his had taken up some time.

- Guess I should've gathered that he had some reason to refuse to work on it with the rest of us, - she mentally huffed.

Phone in hand, she raised it to show the image that had been sent around an hour before from her pink-skinned friend, along with enough words of explanation to let her know where to direct her wrath.

"The hell's this?" 

"Hello to you too, Tokage," Monoma responded as he calmly rested the pen and turned his chair to look at her. "Something's wrong?"

"Som- Dude, why are you and Midoriya going around asking for this stuff?!" she asked, exasperated.

"Is it bad that we are trying to help others get some relief? Keeping things inside can be stressful, you know?" he tried to pacify.

"Out of nowhere?" she went on through gritted teeth.

He raised an eyebrow and his hands, seemingly on the defensive. "Hey, you know that I've been striving to be helpful to our classmates since day one. We have just found another way I hadn't thought of before."

His tone was beginning to get on her nerves. It was usually fun, but today that theatrical bullshit of his wasn't going to work on her.

She crossed her arms and frowned deeply. "Cut the crap. It just so happened that you got the idea right after I had an-" she stopped for a second, almost biting her tongue, "-just because I made a mistake yesterday?" 

"Oh, no, the two events are definitely related," he confessed, moving a bit to put his back on the recliner. Monoma's eyes turned a shade darker as his expression got more serious. "And I would hardly call it a 'mistake,' Tokage. 'Encounter with death' would be more appropriate. You stared into the abyss, and you were lucky that it was too fucking lazy to stare back."

Setsuna felt herself stagger, being caught off guard by the recent memory she'd rather chain, lock away, and forget.

"I had everything under control," she said, trying to keep her tone from wavering. A lie if she'd ever heard one. She wouldn't be able to trick Pony with it, let alone a fibster of Monoma's experience.

"If you say so," he sighed, not sounding convinced in the least. "I would've thought that coming that close—practically a hair's breadth—to a disaster waiting to happen would have made you rethink your stance on putting your life on the line so often, but apparently I was wrong."

"You know I can't do that," she let out, shaking her head. "I thought we were on the same page on that." 

He made a sound between a groan and a snort. "We are, but you know that, despite it, I still think you shouldn't risk it. Is there a chance that things will go wrong? Yes. Even if I don't like to think about it, it's a possibility, though I hope that a school that prides itself on producing the greatest Heroes our nation has to offer would put its students' safety first and foremost." 

"I may be asked to withdraw for that 'safety,' you know?" she interjected, slightly piqued. 

"Again, it's a possibility," he agreed. "But do you really think that it's even remotely on the same level of what could happen in the worst-case scenario?" 

Wasn't it? Giving up her only chance to make something of herself, of getting something for her hard work and for years and years of dealing with her stupid fucking curse of a Quirk... wasn't that the same as dying? What would she have left?

She remained silent. 

After a few moments, Monoma sighed. "Look," he started, "I know, you're thinking that this whole thing might be happening to put you on the spot, but that's not what we're trying to accomplish. We genuinely want the others to feel a bit of relief by venting out some past frustrations. The three of us aren't the only ones who had some problems in that department, you know?" 

"Three?" she asked, slightly confused. 

The boy shared the perplexity for a second before letting out an understanding hum. "Sorry, I thought that Midoriya had already shared his past problems with you. But of course, you must've been in a rush to get back for the curfew..." Catching her inquisitive look, he continued, "And it's not my place to share those." 

She put aside the thought of inquiring more on Midoriya as annoyance flared back in her chest again. "But you could share mine?"

"No, I made you a promise," the blonde shook his head, looking almost hurt. "Midoriya figured everything out by himself. I only told him that nobody else knew." 

She blinked, stopping for a moment. Maybe, just maybe, she was treating him a bit too harshly. "Sorry," she sighed, feeling a bit guilty.

"No offense taken," the guy waved the worry away. "Moving back to the meeting... We'd really appreciate it if you'd come. You don't have to share anything you don't want to. You can just listen and see for yourself that some had it as hard as we did, that they can understand."

"And if I don't?" she questioned, the tone too dejected to be defiant.

Monoma shrugged while showing a small smile. "It won't be the end of the world. There's always a next time. Or Hound Dog's sessions, or even your other friends—you know that Pony would rather file her horns than turn on you." She would. The American girl could be the sweetest thing even when she didn't mean to. "And I don't control your life, Tokage. I can suggest that you start putting yourself first, but it's up to you to follow my words or not. I'll be your friend anyway."

Setsuna mulled over his words before grunting. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," he sang, turning his chair back to the desk. He always had to get the last word, did he?

She turned to leave with her questions answered and her untimely rage mostly quelled into a puddle of annoyance.

As nosy as the whole endeavor could be, the two idiots were the likeliest ones to support something like this to help others get through their trauma. Monoma was probably right; they couldn't be the only ones who had faced some sort of discrimination before high school. What right did she have to shut down the whole thing when others had a real chance to get better from it?

She opened the door and, without looking back, she added a weak "I'll think about it."

Izuku looked around the room, taking in how many students had decided to join their first meeting: Twelve from Heroics, four from Support, two from Business, seven from general.

He didn't care much about the people from the other courses- He didn't have enough time to spare for the students from the other courses, so he probably wouldn't remember their faces either. Maybe it wasn't terribly polite, but he had to make his time count, and filling his head with useless information didn't help—and it wasn't as if he hadn't already checked if anybody but Hitoshi could fit in their midst. No, the other courses would be safer away from the action, and would get his help through Nezu and the suggestions he'd offered to the principal… And occasionally through meetings such as this, open to anyone.

But he was very happy to see so many of his classmates participating. Twelve was a good number to start, practically his best yet. Not all the most problematic Quirks were here, but they would be reached in time.

It didn't matter that Tsu had to convince Mina that her worries weren't unfounded—whoever had told her that her mutations didn't qualify for support, being too eye-catching and 'baseline-like aesthetically pleasing,' deserved a kick in the teeth—or that Shoto had no intentions to say anything, as he never had—he wasn't one to divulge things in public, but he was a good listener.

They would help each other and reach what and who he couldn't alone—not without spending everything he had on the one case, which he couldn't afford.

It almost made the guilt of railroading Neito into proposing the idea weight less.

" Look at them dancing, puppet master, their strings are tied, " the voice rasped, elated.

He tensed his jaw for a brief moment before taking his mind away from the whisper, trying to focus on the amicable chats happening around him.

The room was already pretty lively and, though there hadn't been much mixing between courses, some more outgoing students were slowly tearing down the barrier. Mina, Pony, and Toru had managed to rope in their discussion another three girls seated closeby, while Denki and Jurota made a most peculiar pair as they introduced themselves to some guys from Business. A tall guy with eight, black, grape-sized, spidery eyes had found a spot between Mezo and Kojiro, the group—with Shoto by its left—keeping a peaceful silence. One of Hitoshi's old classmates had been quite happy at the unexpected reunion, going to him and ending up chatting more with Neito and Tsu.

Izuku would have already been very satisfied as things were, but for once the day smiled on him.

Just as Hound Dog was about to clap to start off the meeting, one dark-green headed girl knocked on the door, warily taking a step in when the counselor welcomed her. Setsuna couldn't resist being swept up by the overzealous and happy Pony and Mina, which gave Izuku and Neito just enough time to exchange a satisfied, knowing smile while she wasn't looking.

This didn't solve everything, but it could be a first step towards healing. It was extremely unlikely that she'd tell anything about her past on the first day, but she didn't need to. Listening would already do her a lot of good.

- Who knows, maybe she'll end up revealing the problem earlier this time around, - he thought, half content, half annoyed. - Nothing seems to wait for its damn place this cycle. - 

"Let's just hope it doesn't also apply to the Villains," Third grunted.

"You just had to jinx it," Fifth groaned.