Entomophobia (Worm/My Hero)

Just a quick oneshot. Might continue, probably won't. We'll see!

[Entomophobia]

Izuku Midoriya stared up at the gleaming gates of U.A. High School. Well, they weren’t literally gleaming, but the wide-eyed teenager wouldn’t have been able to tell through the tears welling up in his eyes anyway.

I’m really here! He thought, almost unable to believe the words. Other students glared at him as they stepped around him, muttering about the weird kid standing in the middle of the street, but for once, he didn’t hear them.

He never imagined he’d be standing here.

After so much work and blood and sweat and probably more tears than most people had in them, he had made it here. Now all he had to do was walk through those doors and secure his entrance into the school of his dreams.

He took a deep breath, stepped forward—

And tripped.

The ground rushed up to meet him and Izuku barely had time to throw his hands out, bracing for the inevitable impact that would surely scrap his palms and probably his knees and wow this was a terrible start to what was supposed to be the most important day of his life.

But he never hit the ground. Something caught the back of his jacket, yanking him upright so suddenly that his teeth clicked together. Izuku stumbled, overcorrected, and nearly fell in the opposite direction before he managed to get his feet under him properly.

“Careful.”

The voice was flat. Not unkind, exactly, but lacking any real warmth. Izuku turned to find himself face-to-face with—well, almost face-to-face, given that the girl was a good few inches taller than him.

She was taller than any girl Izuku had met, and lanky in a way that made her seem like she’d grown too fast and hadn’t quite figured out what to do with all that height yet. Black hair framed brown eyes that regarded him with detached interest behind a pair of rounded glasses. Her skin was extremely pale, giving her dark brows and eyes a striking appearance that was amplified by her slightly hooked nose.

She was kind of pretty, in a menacing sort of way, Izuku noted behind all the embarrassment. He felt his face heat up at their proximity.

“U-Um!” Izuku stammered, “Thank you! I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy, I—”

Internally, Izuku was horrified. Here was the first girl his age that he had talked to in years and he was messing it up. Why couldn’t he get his tongue to work!?

The girl didn’t seem to mind his stammering and simply released his jacket. She stepped back, her shoulders hunching inward slightly as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her baggy hoodie.

“It’s fine,” she said. Her eyes flicked toward the gates of U.A., then back to him. “You’re here for the entrance exam?”

“Y-yeah!” Izuku straightened, clutching the strap of his backpack like a lifeline. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. Are you... are you taking it too?”

“Taylor Hisode.” She didn’t smile or offer to shake his hand, continuing to stare at him in that way that made him want to curl up under the nearest large object, “And yes.”

Another student brushed past them, shooting Hisode a look that Izuku couldn’t quite parse. Hisode didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care. She started walking toward the gates, her long legs carrying her forward at a pace that Izuku had to hurry to match.

“So, um,” Izuku scrambled for something to say, falling into step beside her, “what’s your quirk, if you don’t mind me asking! I’m just curious! I write down observations about quirks, it’s kind of a hobby.”

Hisode gave him a sidelong glance. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and Izuku wilted internally. He was messing it up. He just couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut and now the first girl he met thought he was weird or a nerd or—

“Insect control.”

Izuku blinked, barely hearing the words. “What?”

“Insect control,” Hisode repeated, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets. She glanced at Izuku, her eyes carrying some emotion he couldn’t put a name to. “I control insects. Arthropods, arachnids, even some crustacean.”

Izuku’s brain short-circuited for approximately half a second before lurching back online with the force of a freight train.

“Insect control? That’s—” His eyes went wide, his mouth already moving faster than his brain could filter, “—that’s incredible, wait, what are the limits? Is it limited to things with exoskeletons or is there something else that determines it? Some kind of biological marker? Do you need to issue a verbal command or is it mental? If it’s mental, is there a delay or is it instantaneous? Do you need to see them or do you have some kind of omnipresent awareness of them? Like, is there a range? How many can you control at once? Is there an upper limit or is it based on the complexity of the commands you’re giving? Can you see through their eyes? Feel through them? Could you—”

He caught himself mid-sentence as he noticed that Hisode had stopped walking, forcing him to as well. She was staring at him, her head tilted like a bird eyeing something curious. It wasn’t the usual weirded-out looks that he normally got when he rambled on like that, but there was something about it that made the back of his neck prickle.

Izuku’s mouth snapped shut so fast his teeth clicked as his face exploded into a blush for the second time that morning.

“A hobby, huh?” she said, and Izuku’s face felt like it was on fire.

“I—I’m sorry if I offended you!” He bowed his head, clutching his backpack strap with both hands now, “I know I get weird about quirks and sometimes my mouth runs off before my brain.”

He glanced back up, and was shocked to see the girl’s lips quirk in a slight smile.

“It’s fine,” Hisode said softly. “I’m just used to people reacting a bit worse to what I can do. Bugs are pretty creepy, right?”

“Only sometimes!” Izuku protested. “But they can be really useful too! You could use them for search and rescue to slip into places normal people can’t! O-or test for traps or contaminated air! It’s a really versatile quirk if you use your head.”

Hisode’s eyebrows rose slightly, something flickering behind her eyes that Izuku couldn’t quite read. For a moment, she just looked at him, her expression unreadable.

“Most people just ask if I can make spiders crawl on people I don’t like,” she said finally.

“I mean... you could,” Izuku admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “but that’s such a waste of potential! Any quirk can be used for hero work if you think creatively enough. That’s what All Might—”

He cut himself off, not wanting to bring up his idol to a practical stranger. Hisode didn’t seem to notice his abrupt stop, or if she did, she didn’t comment on it.

“If we both get in,” she said, starting to walk again, “I’ll answer all your questions. Alright?”

Izuku blinked, then beamed. “Really? That would be amazing! Thank you, Hisode-san!”

“Taylor is fine,” she said. “I’m half-American and was mostly raised in the States so formality doesn’t really mean much to me.”

Izuku’s mind lurched at the idea of calling anyone, much less a girl, by their given name when he just met them, but something compelled him to nod.

“Taylor, then,” he corrected himself, and Hisode—Taylor—nodded once.

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence, Izuku occasionally sneaking glances at his new acquaintance. There was something about Taylor that put him at ease, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed in her pockets, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible despite her height. It reminded him a bit of how he used to walk, before All Might had changed his life.

Before long, they reached the main building, and a rush of students funneled toward the entrance. Izuku felt his heart rate spike as he took in the sheer number of examinees. Each one of them had a quirk, had trained for this moment, had probably spent years preparing. What was he doing here? He was nobody, quirkless until less than a year ago, and even now he could barely control what he had. What made him think he deserved to stand among these people?

“Hey.”

Izuku blinked, turning to find Taylor watching him.

“You’re thinking too much,” she said, making him blink. “Save it for the exam.”

He nodded, forcing a smile that probably felt more like a grimace. “R-right. Thanks, Taylor.”

They approached the bulletin board that listed testing assignments, and Izuku felt his stomach drop when he saw they were in different arenas. Taylor was in Testing Room 12, while he was assigned to number 6. He turned to say something, but she was already walking toward her area without a backward glance.

Izuku watched her go, noting the way other students gave her a wide berth as she passed. There was something about the way she moved, he thought. Something that made people instinctively step aside without even realizing they were doing it. Like a predator walking through a herd of prey animals that knew, on some primal level, that it was better not to get in the way.

He shook off the thought. That was a weird thing to think about someone he’d just met. Taylor was nice. A little intense, maybe, but nice.

The written exam had been tough, but Izuku had felt good about it. He’d studied for months, cramming every spare moment with hero law, ethics, mathematics, and whatever else might appear on the test. When he’d handed in his paper, there had been a small, fragile bubble of hope in his chest that maybe, maybe, he could do this.

That bubble had lasted right up until the practical exam orientation.

“YOU THERE! WITH THE GREEN HAIR!”

Izuku had frozen, every nerve in his body lighting up as the boy with glasses and an aggressively rigid posture pointed at him from across the auditorium.

“YES, YOU! YOUR MUTTERING IS DISRUPTIVE TO THE OTHER EXAMINEES! IF YOU CANNOT CONDUCT YOURSELF PROPERLY, YOU SHOULD LEAVE!”

The entire room had turned to stare at him, and Izuku had wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor. Present Mic had moved on quickly, but the damage was done. He’d spent the rest of the orientation trying to make himself as small as possible, which was frankly impressive given how much he wanted to ask questions about the three-pointer robots and whether the zero-pointer was worth any points and—

Well, none of that mattered right now. What mattered was the practical, and right now, the practical was going very badly.

“Just one,” Izuku panted, sprinting down another empty street in the destroyed city. “Just one point, that’s all I need! Please!”

He rounded a corner, running past someone standing over a pack of destroyed robots, and bolted towards the end of the street, looking for anything he could smash.

Nothing. He ran past empty alleys, quiet buildings, and dark windows. The distant sound of explosions and crashes echoed through the cityscape, and he could feel time slipping away from him with every thunderous beat of his heart. Everyone else was out there getting points, proving themselves, showing what they could do, and he was floundering to even find a robot to beat!

He heard the distant sound of metal on metal and took off in the direction of the noise, rounding the corner just in time to see a two-pointer crumple to the ground. Standing above it, a boy with red hair and skin like stone gave Izuku a bright grin and a thumbs up. “That’s twenty!”

Izuku felt like he was going to be sick.

There had to be more robots somewhere, right? He couldn’t have come this far just to fail because he couldn’t find a single robot to destroy. All Might’s quirk was inside him. He had the power. He just needed a chance to use it!

He rounded another corner, heart beating like a drum in his chest, and nearly collided with a group of examinees fleeing in the opposite direction.

“What’s going on?” Izuku cried out to them as they fled down the street. His answer came in the form of the buildings around him rumbling like they were in the midst of an earthquake.

The crashing grew louder, closer, and then a hand the size of a building gripped the corner of the street ahead. It came into full view, followed by an arm, a shoulder, and finally a head that blotted out the sky itself. The Zero Pointer rose above the fake cityscape like a mountain of metal, staring down at the examiners below with mechanical malice.

Izuku’s legs locked. Every muscle in his body had seized up, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs that it hurt. That thing was the Zero Pointer?

They told us not to fight it. Who in their right mind would try and fight that thing!? Izuku quivered in fear as the machine turned its gargantuan head to regard him. He wanted to run, but his feet remained rooted to the ground thanks to his fear.

Move, he told himself, but his body wouldn’t listen. Fear weighed him down, rooting him to that spot in the middle of the street.

The Zero Pointer began to move, rolling forward on massive treads, crushing everything in its path. It bore down on him, impossibly immense, and Izuku finally managed to get his body to cooperate.

He turned, legs trembling as he prepared to bolt out of the way, only to be stuck in place yet again as a soft voice cut through the rumbling chaos.

“Ow...”

Izuku turned back slowly, dreading what he knew he was going to see. There, only a small distance in front of the Zero Pointer’s loping mass, was a girl. She was pinned beneath a chunk of concrete, unable to move. She looked at the robot with fear, and then locked eyes with Izuku, her face pleading.

Izuku’s mind went blank. Not the kind of blank that came from a lack of thought, but the kind that came from too many thoughts all crashing into each other at once. One thing however, stood out above all else.

Here was a girl about to be crushed by a giant robot. And the only one who could help her was him.

Izuku was moving before he even realized what he was doing. His legs pumped faster than they ever had, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he bolted down the street towards the helpless girl. If he could just get the concrete off of her, she’d be safe. Maybe she had a quirk that could help them get away.

The Zero Pointer’s eyes locked onto his desperate dash. It raised one giant hand, rearing it up so high that its shadow encompassed the entire street. Izuku grit his teeth, moving even faster.

The world erupted.

A wave of darkness burst from every building, every alley, every crack and crevice around them, accompanied by a sound that Izuku felt more than heard. It was a buzzing chittering cacophony that made his teeth ache and his eardrums throb. It vibrated in his chest, in his bones, in his very skull, and he staggered to a halt, arms coming up instinctively to shield his face as he watched the mass move with wide eyes.

The wave slammed into the Zero Pointer’s face with the force of a freight train. The massive robot reared back, its head jerking sideways as the black mass crawled across its metal surface like a living thing.

Because it was a living thing, Izuku realized with a lurch. The mass wasn’t just one giant entity; it was tens of millions of tiny, individual specks, each one moving with purpose as they crawled over the surface of the robot, quickly blotting out more and more of the shiny metal.

Insects.

Izuku’s skin crawled as he recognized shapes in the formless mass. Beetles and roaches and centipedes and things he didn’t have names for, crawling over each other in a writhing tide that covered the Zero Pointer’s face completely. And even more were coming. They poured from the buildings in thick streams, joining the swarm in a flood of chitin and legs and wings that made the robot’s head look like it was wearing a mask of pure, squirming darkness.

He at first thought they were simply trying to blind it, but soon realized he was wrong as the mass spread to cover every available inch of the robot. He watched in fascinated horror as the insects forced their way into the joints of the Zero Pointer’s neck, crawling into the gaps between armor plates at its joints and body.

The robot’s movements became jerky, erratic, its massive arms swinging wildly as if trying to dislodge something it couldn’t reach. Sparks flew from exposed wiring as more and more insects burrowed deeper, and the buzzing grew louder.

The sheer number of them was staggering. Hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of insects all moving as one. It was honestly kind of horrifying. He didn’t know there were that many insects in the entire city! Or well, he did, but it was different to know something than to have it shoved in front of your face like this.

“Please hurry.”

The strained voice came from literally right behind him, breaking his thoughts away from the macabre spectacle. Izuku spun to find Taylor standing there, her hands clenched at her sides and her face pale beneath her dark hair. Her eyes were fixed on the Zero Pointer and her face was screwed in a mixture of pained concentration. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and Izuku could see her jaw clenched tight, muscles in her neck standing out like cords.

“T-Taylor?” he stammered, still reeling from the display.

“This doesn’t exactly feel good, Midoriya,” Taylor gritted out. “Get the girl and get her to safety.”

The buzzing spiked in pitch, turning into a shrieking drone as the robot’s arm came down only inches from where they stood, the insects somehow managing to clog the joints at the last second. Izuku was horrified to see a small trickle of blood leak from Taylor’s nose. Some kind of quirk backlash?

“Midoriya!”

“R-Right!” Izuku didn’t need to be told twice.

He bolted toward the trapped girl and skidded to a halt beside the slab of concrete. The Zero Pointer was flailing, sensors completely blinded by the carpet of bugs, but the sheer mass of the machine meant that even its random movements were dangerous and he had to keep an eye out for falling debris.

“Are you okay?” he shouted, grabbing the edge of the rubble.

“I—I can’t move!” The girl cried out, her hands glowing pink as she tried to activate her quirk, only to gasp in pain as the rubble shifted and disrupted her concentration.

“Hold on!” Izuku gritted his teeth. He planted his feet, feeling the muscles that he didn’t have just a few months ago burn in protest as he lifted over a hundred pounds of concrete. His fingers ached and his back told him he wasn’t lifting properly, but inch by inch, the rubble moved until eventually, the girl was free.

She scrambled out from underneath the rubble and Izuku waited until he was sure she was fully clear to let go, allowing the concrete and twisted metal to collapse back onto the ground. He stumbled backwards, looking to the girl who he had saved, only to find her still on the ground, clutching her foot with an expression of pain.

“I think I broke my foot,” she hissed, rubbing the limb gingerly.

Izuku froze, his mind racing as he fought for a solution. A chunk of debris the size of a small car slammed into the ground next to them, sending up a spray of dust and gravel. The girl screamed, and Izuku threw himself over her on instinct, shielding her body with his own as smaller pieces of rubble rained down around them.

Above them, the Zero Pointer lurched. Taylor’s insects were pulling away now, streaming off the robot in waves that made the air thick and hard to breathe. Izuku turned to find Taylor swaying on her feet, her nose bleeding freely and looking like she was about to collapse at any second. She had an expression of supreme frustration on her face, like this was a common issue that she hadn’t yet solved.

The swarm around the Zero Pointer’s face cleared enough for it to see, and it immediately honed in on Taylor, identifying her as a threat. Its body twitched, the internal mechanisms damaged from the swarm, but it managed to raise its arm in a jerky motion, bringing it up for a strike.

No!

Izuku was moving before the thought even finished forming in his head. He charged forward, legs pumping harder than they ever had before, and leapt.

One For All flooded through his veins like lightning. The world slowed down, the sounds of destruction fading into the background as he sailed through the air toward the Zero Pointer’s head. He could feel the power humming in his fist, his whole arm even! He concentrated, bringing the limb back as power poured through every single muscle, empowering them, making them stronger than ever before!

“SMASH!”

Izuku’s fist slammed into the robot’s face. Metal crumpled like tinfoil, circuits and steel shredding underneath the incredible force of his punch. A shockwave exploded from the point of impact, blasting through the Zero Pointer’s face and the upper half of its body, pulverizing them as if they had been subjected to a gigantic can crusher.

The Zero Pointer fell backwards as it lost vital infrastructure and began to topple under its own weight. If Izuku had been capable of it, he would have cheered, or more likely stared in shock at the damage a single punch had been able to produce. As it stood though, he had more important things to worry about.

That being the pain.

It was all Izuku could process. White-hot, all-consuming pain that radiated from his right arm and both legs and made the numbness from the adrenaline feel like he took a painkiller meant for babies. It was as if every nerve in his body was screaming at once, firing off signals so intense that his vision whited out at the edges.

One For All at full power, some detached part of his brain noted, was too much for my body to handle.

The ground was rushing up to meet him. Through the haze of pain, Izuku could just barely make out the concrete growing larger and larger as he fell. He was going too fast. If he didn’t slow down, he was going to die.

He tried to rear his other arm back, to channel One For All into his one remaining functional limb. It would render him completely incapacitated, but if he could use his remaining arm to slow his fall, he might survive!

He gathered his power, gritting his teeth and praying that he didn’t just black out, but before he could let loose, a hand came across his face.

It wasn’t a hard slap, more of a firm smack that stung his cheek, but the moment those fingers made contact, gravity simply gave up its hold on him, leaving him floating like a leaf only a few feet above the ground.

Floating nearby was the girl he had saved, her face pale and slick with sweat, one hand outstretched towards him and the other pressed to her own face. She was trembling violently, her face practically green with nausea.

“I’ve--hrk! Got you,” she looked like she was about to throw up but toughed it out as the two of them drifted towards the ground at a much safer velocity than before. “Just... hang on.”

She guided them towards the ground and Izuku grunted as he landed on his knees. She landed to his right and hunched over, looking ill as she put the pads of her fingers together.

“R-Release!” She breathed, and suddenly gravity was back in play.

The girl crumpled immediately after, a violent retch tearing its way out of her throat as she fell to her hands and knees, vomiting up a rainbow of colors onto the asphalt. As she expelled the contents of her stomach, Izuku stared off into space, his chest heaving.

I’m alive, he thought, having trouble coming to terms with that fact. Everything happened so fast...

Alongside the realization of his survival, came the reminder of his current situation.

The test, Izuku thought, panic rising in his chest like bile. I still don’t have a point.

He couldn’t fail. Not after All Might gave him his power. Not after his mom cried for him. He couldn’t go home and tell her he hadn’t even tried. Gritting his teeth so hard he thought they might crack, Izuku dug the fingers of his left hand into the asphalt.

He dragged himself forward, forcing his broken body to cooperate as he made his way down the street at an agonizing pace.

“Just one,” he gritted out, tears mixing with the dirt and blood on his face. “I just need one! Please, let there be one!”

He scanned the street desperately, hoping against hope that a damaged robot was nearby. But the street was empty, the other examinees having fled or finished off the targets in this sector. He was alone in the wreckage, the Zero Pointer smoking ominously behind him.

I’ll just go to the next street! He thought desperately, forcing himself forward. *There’s gotta be more and I still have one arm. If I can hit just one robot, then I’ll have a point!”

The thought never occurred to him that one point wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to get into U.A., but by that point, it didn’t matter anyway.

“AND THAT’S IT FOLKS! THE LAST POINTS HAVE BEEN CLAIMED AND THE EXAM IS OVER!”

The announcement blared from the loudspeakers, echoing through the fake city, and Izuku froze as the words washed over him. The exam was over. And he still had no points.

“No,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears. “Nonononono..”

Despair settled over him, sapping all of his strength and sending him to the ground. He had failed. All of All Might’s training, the transfer of power, the pain—none of it mattered. He was going to go home empty-handed, a failure.

He slumped against the ground, the fight draining out of him instantly. There was no point in moving now. He couldn’t pass, so what difference did it make? He let his head rest against the pavement, staring up at the crumpled wreckage of the robot, feeling absolutely pathetic.

A few minutes later, Izuku stood morosely beside a throng of other examiners, clutching his newly healed arm. Even the joy at meeting an amazing hero like Recovery Girl couldn’t break through the sheer despair of his failure.

“Hey!”

Izuku flinched slightly as a voice cut through his gloom, turning to see the girl he had saved walking up to him. She looked a little better than she had when they landed, though she was still a bit pale.

“Hi,” she said, offering a tentative smile. “I, uh... I never got to thank you for back there. If you hadn’t stepped in, I probably would have been a meat pancake. I’m Ochako Uraraka, what’s your name?”

“Izuku Midoriya,” Izuku managed a weak, grimacing smile. “And it was nothing.”

Her smile faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable but pressing forward anyway. “Were you serious when you said you didn’t have a single point?”

Izuku stiffened, his shoulders hiking up toward his ears. He didn’t realize she heard that. Uraraka’s eyes widened as she took in his reaction.

“Oh,” she paused, seemingly scrambling for something to say, before pasting on a brave face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I mean... s-surely the teachers will give you some points for beating that giant robot, right?”

Izuku shook his head, the motion small and defeated. “No. It was the Zero Pointer. They said specifically it was worth zero points. It wasn’t even worth fighting.”

Uraraka froze, her mouth opening slightly before snapping shut. She looked at him with a mixture of horror and pity that made Izuku’s stomach churn.

Uraraka opened her mouth to say something, probably something comforting that wouldn't actually help, but Izuku had already turned away.

Is it possible for anyone to be as much of a failure as me? He thought, staring down at his arm. It was healed, but the pain was still fresh in his mind. All that power, all that potential, and he couldn’t even score a single point.

Maybe he should just give the quirk back to All Might. The man had been holding it for decades; surely he could find someone better suited to wield it. Someone who wouldn’t waste it on a useless gesture that netted him exactly zero points on the most important exam of his life.

A hand landed on Izuku’s shoulder, breaking him out of his self-pity.

Izuku blinked, turning to find a familiar flat expression staring back at him. Taylor looked better than when he had last seen her. She was pale, but the blood that had been streaming from her nose earlier was gone, though, and she seemed steady enough on her feet.

“Even if you don’t get in, you helped save a life today,” she said, squeezing his shoulder, “That’s the mark of a real hero.”

He blinked at her, startled that she had managed to parse his inner thoughts. She stared at him, brown eyes boring into his, and smirked. “Besides, you can always retake the test next year if you’re willing to wait that long. Maybe use the time to get a better handle on your power.”

Before Izuku could respond or even process what she said, Taylor turned and walked away, her long strides carrying her into the crowd of examinees until she disappeared from sight entirely.

Uraraka blinked at the spot where Taylor had been standing, then turned to Izuku with wide eyes. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” Izuku said, unsurely. “I think.”

He stared after Taylor for a moment longer, her words echoing in his mind. You helped save a life today. That’s the mark of a real hero. The words settled into his chest, pushing back against the sadness. She was right. Even if he didn’t get into U.A., he had acted like a hero today. He had seen someone in danger and saved them. That had to count for something.

His expression solidified, the despair giving way to resolve. He would try again. He would train harder, learn to control One For All, and come back next year stronger than before. All Might believed in him, and he wasn’t going to let that belief go to waste.

He paused, a thought occurring to him. “Wait! I forgot to ask her about her quirk!”

Uraraka blinked at him, clearly not expecting the sudden exclamation. Izuku’s hands came up to his head, gripping his green curls in despair.

“I had so many questions!” he moaned, “And she said she’d answer them if we both got in! Ahh, I didn’t get her email or anything!”

Uraraka watched him spiral with wide eyes, clearly unsure of what to make of the sudden shift in demeanor. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“So... you’re okay?” she asked haltingly.

“Not right now,” Izuku said, already pulling out his notebook to scribble down everything he could remember about Taylor’s quirk, “but I’m going to be.”

The claxons of an alarm rang through the small area, a harsh buzzing sound that I had long since learned to tune out. The visitation room of Providence Detention Facility was exactly as welcoming as one might expect from a prison designed to hold some of the most dangerous villains in Japan. That was to say, not at all.

It wasn’t as bad as the horror stories that leaked out of the likes of Tartarus, but it certainly wasn’t a normal prison either. Grey concrete walls, reinforced glass partitions, and a pervasive sense of misery seemed to cling to everything like a second skin. The chairs were bolted to the floor, the lights overhead didn’t leave any room for shadows, and the guards stationed at the exits never took their eyes off me even as they gave me tiny modicum of privacy in this soundproof, glass box.

It was the kind of place meant to suck the soul out of someone. Luckily, I didn’t intend to be here for long.

I sat down in the chair across from the reinforced glass partition, my back straight despite the ache in my head that still lingered from the exam. The headache had mostly faded by now, down to a dull throb behind my eyes that I could ignore if I focused hard enough. Controlling that many insects at once, especially in such a high-stress situation, had taken a lot out of me. But it was worth it.

The door on the opposite side of the glass opened, and my father walked in.

Jinichi Hisode was the exact opposite of Daniel Hebert, down to the hair on his head which was shaved on the sides and styled into a mohawk. A polar opposite to my original dad’s thinning hair. He was almost as tall, but much more filled out, with broad shoulders and thick hands that I was thankful to not have inherited.

His sharp features had always made him look severe, but the years in prison had carved new lines into his face, aging him beyond his years. The slightly hooked nose that I had inherited sat above a thin-lipped mouth that was currently pressed into a flat line. His green eyes found me immediately, boring into me with an intensity that most people would find unsettling.

I had been told on numerous occasions that I had the same “creepy look.” I wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that.

He sat down across from me, the chains on his wrists clinking against the metal table bolted to the floor on his side of the glass. He was adjusting himself, not testing his restraints, I knew. I had been making this trip every month for the past three years, ever since I turned twelve and the state deemed me old enough to decide if I wanted to maintain contact with my incarcerated parent.

I did, though not for the reasons the state probably assumed.

“You look tired,” my father said, his voice carrying through the small speaker embedded in the glass. It crackled slightly, a reminder that everything in this room was monitored and recorded. “The exam was today, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” I confirmed, leaning back in my chair. “I just came from it, actually.”

“And?” One of his eyebrows rose, the closest he ever came to showing genuine emotion in a place like this. The prison guards had learned early on that Jinichi Hisode didn’t show weakness. Not to them, not to the other inmates, and certainly not during visits with his daughter. “Did you make it?”

I nodded slowly. “Seventh place in the practical. Tenth in the written exam. It was harder than I thought it would be.”

Jinichi stared at me, eyes unreadable. Then, a small smile stretched across his face. “Good. Upper middle of the pack is decent. Don’t wanna be a state student. That gets all sorts of eyes on you.”

“My quirk isn’t exactly unremarkable,” I said, eyeing the reflection in the glass where I could see the guards loitering behind me. “I’m bound to catch someone’s eyes no matter what I do.”

“As long as they don’t dig too deep, you don’t got nothing to worry about, sweetie,” Jinichi said. There was a tenderness in his voice that was out of place given his appearance. But then, the Beast of Hokkaido always had a soft spot for his daughter.

Especially since she started to follow in his footsteps. At least, as far as he was aware.

“You understand your next steps, right?”

“The same as any other school. Hopefully, I’ll have a bit more success this time.”

“I’m sure you will. Little heroes spend too much time training to worry about little things like that,” Jinichi leaned forward, his eyes intense and smile sharp. “Those heroes won’t know what hit them.”