Chapter 39: Internship Experiences and Expectations
"So," began Izuku, feeling unusually brave in the face of an uncomfortable social interaction, "I figure you're probably pretty mad I'm here, and I understand that you really don't like me or think I can be a hero." Huh, was that a slight wince from his icy companion? That was weird.
"But I think for both our sakes' it would be best if we could just pretend like you don't hate me and that none of that other stuff matters. And we should try not to get in each other's way." Todoroki looked at him intensely for a moment, clearly warring with something internally. Probably biting back the urge to insult him or to tell him to leave, Izuku reflected a little bitterly. So much for his olive branch.
"Midoriya, I don't hate you," Todoroki said evenly, his eyes impassive as he stared at Izuku. "I am...uncertain about many things right now, but I have never hated you. I wished to make you see your situation for what it was but you have consistently...challenged that notion. That and some...other things that have come to light," he paused, looking confused. Izuku looked back, just as confused. They were quite the sight, standing there unmoving in front of the black glass and steel skyscraper, its only acknowledgement to color coming in the form of the giant, flaming 'E' that marked the entrance.
"Was there anything else?" Izuku asked after another moment. The boy hesitated, looking like he was about to say something he really didn't want to. Oh no, was he going to talk about the things Izuku had overheard during his talk with Katsuki? He'd have to pretend to be shocked, and he couldn't do that.
"Oh, you already know about that. I figured either Bakugo would have told you or you would have figured it out on your own," said Todoroki, his shoulders dropping slightly. Izuku blanched, realizing what he had done. Damn his mumbling.
"Uhm, I'm sorry, I'm sure that was p-personal and you w-wouldn't want m-me of all people to overhear," he began, waving his hands defensively, "b-but it was just the wrong place at the wrong time and I n-needed to talk to K-Kacchan, and I d-didn't mean to eavesdrop b-but I couldn't really l-leave once you started and-"
"Midoriya," interrupted the other boy. "It does not trouble me that you overheard that conversation. As I already said I have...become uncertain about some things recently, related to that matter." He cleared his throat then, seeming like there was still more he wanted to say, but held off for the moment. "Regardless of my past attempts to persuade you otherwise, or my feelings on the matter at the time, I can recognize that you are not one to be deterred by others' logic."
"Uhm, thanks, Todoroki?" Said Izuku, shifting his bag a bit on his shoulder. If he had learned something after the Sports Festival that had flipped his views like this, it must have been pretty significant. Izuku chuckled mirthlessly to himself. It seemed he wasn't the only one who got shocking revelations in the aftermath of that carnage.
"Shocking revelations?" Ah, damn it. Of course he mumbled again. "I will pay that no mind if you wish me to. I had only intended to tell you that we likely will not be working together too much during this time as is. And that I still have no intentions to make friends. My time here, and yours, will be best spent trying to get stronger." Todoroki seemed to have finished with the conversation at that and began to walk towards the entrance, leaving a slightly annoyed Izuku to follow along behind.
"What do you mean by that?" He queried, taking up a spot in the short queue behind the other boy. One of Endeavor's many sidekicks was running visitors through a metal detector and X-ray scan, as well as checking their IDs.
"That we will not be working together? Simply that my father will likely be taking this time to help me with my flame's power, making it stronger, and that he will be helping you with your fine control. That will likely not occur at the same time, so we may both expect to spend most of our time apart, working with father's other sidekicks and trainers."
"Oh I guess that makes sense - wait, you're using your flames now?" Izuku looked at his classmate wide eyed, forgetting to drop his shoes into the tray he had been about to deposit them in, wondering what in the hell could have brought about this change. Only two weeks ago Todoroki's major ambition had been to spite his father, now he was learning to use his quirk to its full potential from the man himself? Thankfully, Izuku managed to keep his mouth shut this time.
"As I said I have become...uncertain of things." Todoroki stepped forward, reclaiming his shoes from the security officer and flashing his ID before being escorted to the side. Izuku soon followed, though he did set off the metal detector with his interface. Still, the personnel were understanding enough to let him through after he confirmed his ID. That was a security flaw, he reflected grimly. What if someone with some kind of disguise quirk had taken his place?
"Regardless, I only expect we shall be interacting in the evenings at my home, and during any patrols that Endeavor decides to take us on. I expect this will be acceptable to you." Izuku sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, still sizing up the security in the building. True, the whole place was filled with heroes and sidekicks, as well the usual security officers, but the blind spots were making him nervous. As was the lack of cameras. That was definitely odd.
"Whatever you want is fine, Todoroki," Izuku breathed out at last, following the other boy to the elevator. The doors closed behind them silently, and their ride to the top of the agency was only accompanied by the gentle hum of the car as they ascended. Todoroki, it seemed, had nothing more to say, and Izuku really had nothing to say to him. Just as he started to twiddle his thumbs their quiet ascent came to a gradual stop, and the doors once more noiselessly slid open.
The pair of students had been deposited in a large, open office, practically bereft of furniture save for a small table, two admittedly comfortable looking couches, a chandelier of all things, and a massive desk hewn from dark wood. Behind it, illuminated by the floor to ceiling windows that cast the morning sun's rays across the office in four segments, sat the scowling hero who had decided to take them under his tutelage. His flames were entirely extinguished, and Izuku thought it strange that he did not go about unadorned more often. He looked better without the beard, and his eyes seemed less cold.
"Shoto, Midoriya, I am glad to see you both here," said the hero, rising from his seat and igniting his quirk. Immediately the softer eyes Izuku had seen were narrowed, their shockingly blue irises constricted down, his pupils mere pinholes. Beside him, Todoroki stiffened and did little else. It looked like it was up to Izuku to take the lead.
"Thank you for having me sir, I'm under your care," he said, offering a bow to the man. Endeavor regarded him stiffly before snorting and shaking his head a bit. Beside him, Todoroki remained motionless.
"Fine, Midoriya, fine," he grumbled, eyes flicking down to the costume cases the two carried. "As you're aware, I've taken on both you and Shoto for this internship; as you both are focusing on different areas of improvement I will be training you separately, and will have the other work with someone who is more...specialized during the time I am not with them."
"Yes sir, I'm here to learn as much as I possibly can," said Izuku, Todoroki still not moving beside him. Endeavor snorted.
"Shoto is already aware, but I am not an easy teacher, nor a gentle instructor. You will keep up, or you will be left behind. Do not disappoint me, Midoriya." Izuku met the hero's steely gaze with his own, his lips curling down into a more serious and less nervous expression. They maintained eye contact for a few more moments before Endeavor sighed and waved a hand in the air. "As you will likely be doing more damage to the training facilities than my son will, I shall have you working with me after Shoto for today. In the meantime, I have arranged some other instructions for you to work on to shore up some weaknesses I noticed during your performance at the Sports Festival." Izuku coughed.
"I, uh, I did win the festival, sir," he said, not wanting to sound too glib, or like he was back talking. Endeavor merely huffed something approximating a very dry laugh.
"Neither you, nor Shoto, nor even your competitor in the final were fighting as effectively as you could have been. I hardly expected you of all people to have thought your own performance was perfect, especially with what I've heard about your...analytical tendencies. Regardless, we have no time to waste on these frivolities." He nodded back towards the elevator, signalling Izuku's dismissal. "Meet your instructor in level B5, and change into your full hero costume before you do. You'll return it to the case and leave it in the nook you'll find in the locker room for cleaning when you're done."
"R-right, sir," said Izuku, uncertainties starting to return and his unease rising as he made his way back to the elevator.
"Oh, Midoriya, one more thing," called the flame hero over his shoulder. Izuku turned and looked at him quizzically, the elevator doors already beginning to slide closed. He stopped it with his hand. "Your trainer requested to work with you, specifically. They had wanted to send you an internship offer, but apparently had already ripped up the forms UA sent out before watching the Sports Festival and didn't want to be embarrassed asking for a replacement. You'll be working primarily with them when you're not with me, so try to make a good impression."
"Uh, right, sir," said Izuku, letting the door slide closed at last. The elevator began its rapid descent, and he couldn't help but be both worried and excited to meet whoever it was that had wanted to teach him personally.
Ochaco was surprisingly at ease in the presence of the massive figure Gunhead presented, giggling into her hand at the man's rather cutesy way of speaking. It was pleasant, like a parent talking to a child, but still without any hint of being patronizing. For all his intimidating looks, he radiated a kind of fatherly aura of good natured cheer and a desire to protect others. This was exactly what Ochaco had been hoping to cultivate, alongside her combat prowess.
"So, as far as the financial aspect of the agency is concerned, it's all about having an effect on crime in my area, okay?" He finished adjusting Ochaco's form as he took her through the motions for a more powerful throw, and was even showing her how to incorporate her own quirk into his style of martial arts. "Basically, each district we oversee sends weekly requests in batches for unresolved cases or repeat offender villains. When we're not working on those - lift your arm a bit, there you go! When we're not working on those, we do standard patrols and resolve incidents as we encounter them."
"Kiyah!" shouted Ochaco, flipping the training dummy over her shoulder and rolling her hip to slam it into the ground. A meter on its face showcased the force of the impact, and she went pale at the sight. Gunhead hummed while looking over her shoulder.
"Bit less force on the next one. I know you'll get this in no time flat! So anyways, after that we do our best to do our old friend Mr. Paperwork his due diligence. After action reports are something I'll help you fill out later, and then the special committee reviews it. Barring deductions for excessive property damage, the balance is awarded to my bank account, okay? Mostly your work as a hero is commission based, but some of the bigger agencies offer salaried positions, so make sure you know what you're getting into when you join up with someone!"
"Got it, Gunhead-sensei!" yelled Ochaco, whirling another training dummy through the air before landing on its back, arms pressed together in one hand while she mimed cuffing it with the other. Her teacher clapped for her enthusiastically.
"Awesome, great job kiddo!"
Katsuki stood next to Shitty Hair wondering why the hell it was that he had decided to follow his idiot friend to this guy's agency. Sure he was popular enough, though nowhere near Best Jeanist's level of fame, and yeah, he did a fair amount of combat, but mostly he was a fucking pencil pusher! Or at least, that's what he was making it sound like.
"Now then, technically being employed by the government makes me, and all heroes for that matter, a type of civil servant. There is, however, a difference," said Fourth kind, wagging one of his four arms while another made a fist and slammed it into his open palm. His last free hand was writing something down behind him on his desk. "Whereas a civil servant works for the government on behalf of the people, a hero is more than that. We are not simply police officers who are entitled to use their quirks and wear costumes. We are servants of the people, first and foremost, and that means being what they need us to be, no matter what."
"So manly," siad Shitty Hair, a bright smile on his face that made Katsuki grin just a little bit too. Right, that was why he had come. Because Deku had said that working with friends was a good thing, and that Fourth Kind could show him some of the ways to be a hero besides winning all the time. Fucking shit, that might get boring though. He hoped that they would at least be doing some introductory sparring so Machamp Jr. could get a good idea for where they were at.
"Now then, part of serving the people is making sure that they feel comfortable when approaching you and asking for assistance. You two, get to straightening up the office, and then when you're done, brew some tea! This place is going to shine!"
Ah, fuck it all to hell and back, thought Katsuki, frowning and getting to work. He did lighten up a little when Shitty Hair tripped over his own broom and face-planted into the coffee table, if only because it made the discount pokemon they were interning for freak out and smack him on the head. A head that had been reinforced by the owner's quirk. He had needed to stifle his laughter when the man had tried to hide the look of pain on his face once his student had turned away. Maybe it won't suck too much , he thought wryly, continuing to sweep.
Tenya smiled wide under his redesigned helm, easily keeping pace with Tensei as he moved along with the help of his jets. Tenya's own engines had been charged to a good degree that morning by the healthy amount of orange juice he had consumed at Tensei's office, and he couldn't help but reflect on all the times he had dreamed of working with his big brother as his engines thrummed beneath him. To be flying down the streets behind his own personal hero, literally following in his footsteps, bringing safety and reassurance to the people, it was all he could have ever asked for.
"Heads up little bro, purse snatcher at two o'clock," said the Turbo Hero, pointing an armored limb at the offender in question. A furtive looking young woman with a mouse quirk was looking around confused and more than a little anxiously as a man in a hoodie sprinted away through the crowd.
"Understood Ingenium-san, I will move to the civilian while you pursue," said Tenya, entering the state of seriousness he reserved for only truly important matters, like punctuality, schoolwork, following the rules, talking with friends, and being a hero.
"Negative Celeritas, I'm having you take the lead on this one. Leave the civilian to me," came Tensei's reply. Tenya felt his pulse quicken, even as he moved to obey his brother, not wanting to second guess him, even though he really thought he should. This was the Idaten agency name on the line if he screwed up! He'd never be able to face his parents, and especially his brother, if he failed here. That just meant he couldn't fail then.
"Understood Ingenium-san, engaging suspect now," Tenya crooned, feeling the power of the pistons in his calves as they sped up. The exhausts on the backs of his legs vented a bit of smoke as he started to push himself, entering the place he and his family had termed their 'speed state' as his own cognition sped up to keep pace his movements. It wasn't something they could use outside of when they were moving this fast, but it did allow them to move at their incredible speeds without losing control of themselves.
The crowd blurred around him as Tenya wove his way through the press of bodies, careful not to knock anyone over, and stepping carefully over the people that the thief had pushed to the ground in his escape. To passerby, he looked like a blue and white blur, much like his older brother did when he was in pursuit of a villain. But Tenya and Tensei were different people, after all, and for all their similarity, their quirks were quite different.
While Tensei's arms afforded him more mobility and maneuverability than Tenya's legs, they had a lower top speed. Certainly, Tensei was quick enough to enter into the 'speed state' while on the ground, and there were few speedsters that could outrun him, but Tenya was one of those few. He may not have been able to climb buildings in a single bound like his brother, but that didn't mean he couldn't, theoretically anyways, take the stairs up just as quickly.
In a flash he was on top of the purse snatcher, the woman's bag clasped in the man's left hand while he ran away, almost in slow motion to Tenya's eyes. The effect wasn't quite the same, but it was close enough to draw the comparison in his mind. Careful not to use too much force, Tenya flashed into the space in front of the miscreant, and dropped low, sticking out a leg that the thief had no chance of avoiding.
He snapped out of his heightened cognition just as the villain went tumbling over his armored shin, dropping the stolen purse and what looked to be a number of cell phones and watches as well. Before the man could rise to his feet, Tenya had pinned his arms behind his back and cuffed the miscreant, advising him not to move and that police would be here soon to turn his detainment into an arrest, where his rights would be read to him.
Tenya breathed out slowly, not wanting to agitate his racing heart any further. Focusing on steadying the rise and fall of his chest, he suddenly caught the odd noise coming from around him. There was a small crowd that had gathered, and a few were clapping and cheering. What had drawn his attention though was one particular voice from the group, one which he had heard shout encouragement at him many a time over the years.
"Nice work, little bro! I knew you could do it," cheered Tensei, stepping forward through the mass of people with his helmet under his arm, a wide, goofy smile on his face. "Little Tenya's gonna be all grown up before I know it," he laughed, clapping his brother on the arm. For his part, Tenya removed his own helm and looked up at his brother, straightening his glasses.
"I am glad to have helped the Idaten team, Ingenium-san," he said, offering his own beaming smile. Truly, this was what he had been waiting to do all his life.
Toshinori sat staring at his wall, cast in evening shadows that mirrored the ones around his eyes and the darker ones looming over his soul. He was so incredibly weary, despite feeling the best he had in years. It had been a good enough day, but then, he had passed a playground, seen the children and their parents happily at play, and remembered. He had remembered a time when he was younger, when the children didn't go out to play, not for lack of desire.
He had been young then, perhaps too young to truly understand why it was that things were the way they were. He recalled in awful twisted detail, the tiny, crumpled bodies that had been littered around the small park near his home, sightless eyes and the color crimson splashed across play equipment and the dead, ill-kept grass. It wasn't exactly common for a villain to vent his rage in such a way, but it had been normalized up to a point. People were horrified, but they weren't shocked. In those days, the best one could have managed was simple resignation.
There had been too many broken homes, too many shattered dreams and cut off prospects. The quirk wars still hung heavy over the heads of the first generation's descendants, now two steps removed from that apocalyptic conflict but all the more enslaved by it. Heroes had come out from that dark night, but they weren't all that they could have become, not yet. They were harsher, darker. They were soldiers in capes, as a few of the more cynical news outlets had opined at the time, and the only way they knew how to resolve a fight was quick and bloody. Heroes did not save people then; they only stopped villains.
That was all before he had met his master, Nana Shimura, the greatest hero to have ever lived. One of the first to truly begin to change things, even as UA had been starting to reach its stride in its quest to create a better kind of savior. She had always been ahead of the curve. Even now, many decades removed from her warm presence, Toshinori could still feel the ghosts of her fingers in his hair, the slightest little pressure against the end of his nose, and the echo of her laugh as she went 'boop' on him. He would still push up the corners of his own mouth in the mornings when it felt like he couldn't go on anymore, when it all came to be too much.
He wondered if she had foreseen the loneliness, the isolation that the path he had laid out would subject him to. Had she known what he would be doing to himself, when he set out to become the symbol of peace? He certainly hadn't. Granted, he had never really had a family beyond Shimura, and eventually, Torino, but he had always wanted one in his future. There had never been the time for it, and as time went on and his list of enemies grew, he had lost the inclination.
But then, he had found it, in his boys, and now too in his students. Togata and Midoriya, the twin suns that had crashed into his life at one of his lowest points; those two had rekindled the embers of his own heroism. It had been young Midoriya especially who had saved him from his own hypocrisy, his own moroseness, as the weight of his duties bowed his once mighty back. How he missed the boy's smile, so much like his master's yet so different. His mumbling tirades, his bright, inquisitive eyes, his once rare but increasingly common laughter. Where he was complicated, Togata was simple, yet neither was stupid. No, both whip-smart, charismatic in their own ways, and masters of their own strengths and weaknesses.
Not for the first time, Toshinori reflected bitterly on how he seemed to always fail when it really mattered. He had failed to save his own master, and with the revelations of his enemy's return, it turned out he had failed to avenge her as well. He had failed the legacy of his quirk, and now, his time was running out before young Togata would be forced to face that monster in his stead. He had failed young Midoriya when the boy needed reassurance the most, he had failed to keep his students safe at the USJ, and he had failed in his duty to the truth.
He patted his side absentmindedly once again, marveling at how much better it was feeling. According to Shuzenji, at the rate he had been healing, he would have fully restored lungs by the second week of June, nearly a full month away. His digestive system would take longer for him to be able to fully absorb nutrients once more, but his stomach had already been repaired for the most part. The small woman had even cleared him to eat his old favorites again, provided he didn't rush things.
But now, he couldn't quite bring himself to eat, not a proper meal anyways. There were questions he would be facing in a week's time, and he had to reflect on the answers he would give. How much could he explain, and would his boy accept that there were still certain things he couldn't tell him? So many uncertainties, and one more was staring up at him from his lap. The phone's screen blinked with the single message notification he had received on his personal line in months.
Inko Midoriya: Hello Mr. Yagi. It was very nice meeting my boy's trainer at the Sports Festival this year, and I'm glad you were there to support him. Would you be willing to meet up this week sometime? I miss my boy a lot, and would love to have a chance to talk with you for a while to distract myself.
Toshinori really, really hoped he wasn't digging himself further into the hole he had dug with his student when he sent his reply. Please, don't misinterpret this, my boy, he silently prayed.
At last, evening fell in the city of Hosu, and Hitoshi was out and about with Aizawa, just as he had always dreamed of. Sure, the man was a lot grumpier in person, and a good deal of the air of mysterious aloofness that Eraserhead was known for fell away once you saw him crawling over the floor in his yellow sleeping bag, but he was still one of the best heroes around.
What All Might was to the spotlight, Eraserhead was to the underworld. All Might may have been a symbol of peace that could reassure civilians, but Eraserhead was the one criminals whispered about in the darkness, the one they feared. All Might would beat you down with just enough force to get you to surrender; Eraserhead would dangle you off the edge of a building by a single strand of his scarf, and wait for you to spill your guts.
"Adjust the way you carry yourself, you present too much of your profile when you move," ordered his teacher, not waiting for Hitoshi to follow his order before he was already moving to the next rooftop. Hitoshi watched him go, then tried his best to imitate the man's movement, bearing in mind his advice. When he took the leap across the gap between buildings and landed with only a little noise, he felt proud of himself, especially when he noticed how one of the shadows on this new rooftop seemed deeper than the others.
"Was that better, Aizawa-sensei?" He inquired, noting with some satisfaction that he could discern the outline of his teacher against the shadows. He didn't have time to celebrate his accomplishment however, as he suddenly found himself yanked into the same darkness his teacher occupied by the man's scarf, suddenly held up close to his side while Aizawa motioned for silence.
Hitoshi waited, unease slowly rising as the seconds went by, noticing how Aizawa seemed to tense at the slightest sound. His eyes were narrowed, furtively scanning the open rooftop for something, though Hitoshi had no idea what. He wanted to ask what was going on, but he knew better than to interrupt.
Sure enough, two figures in what looked to be some kind of airsoft gear and dark clothing bounded across the rooftops a moment later, an uncomfortable amount of cutlery strapped to their bodies. Both wore cloth masks and spotted long scarves that trailed behind them, one white canvas, the other dyed blood red. Hitoshi held his breath, not scared of the figures, but not wanting to get in his teacher's way. The two stopped, stepping up to the edge of the roof and looking down, muttering to each other in quiet conversation.
"Shinso, we're going to engage. I need for you to snare both if you can, but prioritize the one in red for your brainwashing. Get whoever you can, but if it comes down to it, he's the one it's more important to take out, understood?" Hitoshi nodded, tensing a bit as he drew on his own capture weapon, the little cousin to his teacher's. "Move, now."
"Hey, are you guys heroes? Can you help me?" Said Hitoshi, stepping forward into the moonlight and doing his best to look unnerved. It wasn't hard, considering the circumstances. Both the figures turned to regard him, and he didn't fail to notice how knives seemed to appear in their hands, though they weren't held aggressively.
"Who are you, child?" Hitoshi felt his quirk pull, the glazed over look coming onto Red Scarf's face a moment later as he went slack. That's one, thought Hitoshi as he faked a freak out.
"Oh God, is he okay? Why'd he just stop like that?" With one down, it was a little harder to hide his confidence, but he managed to keep just enough nervous confusion in his voice to trick the other man.
"Shut the fuck up kid, I don't-" Hitoshi smirked to himself. Gotcha he crooned internally, feeling his quirk take hold of his second target. He couldn't help but smile widely at his mentor who had stepped fully out of the shadows and was walking up to him. Izuku would be thrilled to hear about this when internships were over.
"You two, cooperate fully with this man. Any orders, sir?" He asked, turning to face his teacher. Aizawa simply shook his head and continued to walk over, pausing to pat him on the arm as he passed.
"You did good, kid. We'll have to work on the acting and on keeping your emotions in check, but that was smooth for your first capture. Now then," he withdrew cuffs from his belt and secured the two men by their wrists to each other, and then to a nearby pipe, leaving them each with one free hand. "Why don't we begin our interrogation? After you have them discard all of their hidden weapons, of course." Hitoshi grinned in synch with his teacher, who had that slightly manic look in his eye.
"Well, you heard the man, start disarming yourselves." It turned out to be a while before the sound of metal tinkling across the rooftop ceased, and a while longer still before the two began to talk.
Earlier that day, Momo had bowed to her instructor, ready and willing to learn everything she could while she was here. While she had been tempted to accept the Uwabami agency's offer, having some words with Izuku had seen her disregarding that potential choice. It wasn't that she didn't respect the woman, goodness no, but rather...there wasn't much she could teach her about her weaknesses. This man, on the other hand.
"I am glad that you have chosen to work with me, young Yaoyorozu," said Edgeshot, his face unreadable behind the mask. "It is to be hoped that your time here will prove most beneficial. Tell me, what, currently, do you perceive to be your greatest weakness?"
Momo paused, thinking critically of herself, but not harshly, as Izuku had cautioned her to do. As someone who suffered from being his own worst critic, she was glad to have a kindred spirit looking out for her like he was. Sitting in the hero's agency, tatami mats underfoot as the gentle sounds of birds chirping filtered in from outside, it seemed much clearer to her what she wanted to work on.
"I believe," she said a little hesitantly, "that my confidence is somewhat lacking, and that it impacts my ability to make decisions quickly. With a quirk like mine serving as my primary tool, I worry that I'll end up limiting myself." The ninja nodded, rubbing a hand over his masked chin.
"Hmm, perceptive enough to notice your own flaws, driven enough to want to fix them. Tell me, Yaoyorozu, what would you say to learning how to rely on just your own power, no quirk at all, to handle nearly any situation?" Momo looked across the space between them at her teacher, confused.
"Forgive my ignorance sir, but why would I do that?" She tilted her head a bit, clearly unsure where this was going. Edgeshot merely smiled at her, at least his eyes did, before he answered.
"Because, Ms. Yaoyorozu, if you can handle any situation without your quirk, without a tendency for overthinking getting in your way, just imagine what you will be able to do once you begin to incorporate it again." Momo's eyes widened as she took in the teacher's words, not really having anticipated it, but clearly seeing the wisdom. She bowed low.
"Please, Edgeshot-sensei, teach me what you believe will best help me to be a hero. I will gladly learn whatever it is you wish to impart." She heard a dry chuckle, followed by what sounded like the barest hint of wind, and looked up. To her surprise, the man was gone, and the room seemed empty.
"Then let us begin, young Yaoyorozu. Your training as a shinobi begins...now." Said the empty room. Momo swallowed the lump in her throat and stood, trying to be ready for anything. That was the problem though, nobody was ever really ready for ninjas.
Mei pushed her goggles back and wiped the soot from her face, grinning ear to ear as her mentor for the week crept up to her workbench. She turned to the blonde woman, noting the bit of discomfort in her eyes. That was fair, she figured. After all, up until now, they had always had a screen between them when conducting experiments.
"So, Melissa-senpai, what do you think of baby twenty nine forty seven point three, phased matter inversion field?" The device in question resembled a circle of raised metal tubing over a sleek matte black base, a number of wires running around the length, and more than a few small lights blinking on its body. There was something of a shimmer in the air above it, but otherwise, there was no indication that it was doing anything.
"Well, judging from the name," smiled Melissa, pushing her glasses up her nose, "I'd guess it's designed to counteract phasing quirks like Izuku's friend Togata, right?" Mei's own smile grew sharper.
"That's right, this baby will render his ghostly ass tangible once it makes contact. At least, I think it will. Haven't been able to test it yet, but that's beside the point. It'll either work or it'll blow up, which means I'm done prototyping for now." Her smile turned positively ravenous and Melissa took an involuntary step backwards as Mei began to cackle. "That's the last of the projects I agreed to work on for Maijima-sensei, so now...you're going to let me work on your projects."
"Uhm, Mei-chan, shouldn't that have been a question?" said Melissa, backing up even further.
"No, it wasn't," Mei said, right before she pounced.
Izuku changed quickly and quietly, slipping into the redesigned jumpsuit and engaging his armor systems with practiced ease. It felt right, being encased, the reassuring pressure on his limbs, the thrum of power in his arms and legs. Energy spiraled down his body through the interface, lighting up the armor as the batteries engaged.
"Lynch, we good?" He asked into his earpiece, getting a very smug sounding answer from the computer.
"Everything is operating within normal parameters. Primary function: ensure the well being of the operator. Secondary function: ensure the well being of the public at large. Tertiary function: apprehend villains. Quaternary function: uphold the miss-"
"Thank you, Lynch, that's enough," mumbled Izuku, flexing through the armor and rolling his shoulders as he began to produce small, faint crackles in his metal palms. "Remind me to prevent Mei from putting any other weird stuff in your code. Two hundred year old jokes are very much not appreciated."
"That will not be necessary. Trust me." Izuku's palm met his helmet.
"Just...boot up the weapons systems and configure for nonlethal, indoor sparring." At the command Izuku felt the metal around him rearrange slightly, a brief tightening in his shoulder as something shifted just a bit too closely, they'd fix that after the internships, and then everything settled once more. The faint light of the suit's power barely peeked past the edges of the armor plating, the flight module in his boots spooling up with its own, barely perceptible off-white glow at his heels.
"Configuration of armor systems complete. Enjoy your beating, Izuku, and make sure to learn as much as you can."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lynch," he grumbled, making his way out of the locker room and into the underground gym, noting the reinforced walls and sturdy pillars around the room. His instructor was nowhere to be seen however. "Wait, do you know who it is that's going to be teaching me, Lynch?"
Izuku never got an answer as, in a blur of motion far too fast to see, he was suddenly sent sprawling across the room, a streak of white and purple flashing momentarily across his vision before he found himself lifting his head from the padded mat. Looking up, Izuku felt his breath catch as one of his favorite heroes of all time grinned down at him, long white hair flowing behind her as crimson eyes gleamed wickedly.
"What's up little bunny? You ready to learn how to kick like a girl?" cackled the Rabbit Hero, Mirko, throwing her head back and laughing with her whole body as Izuku got unsteadily to his feet.
"As I said," hummed Lynchpin in his ear, entirely too smug for a computer. Was this his petty revenge for Izuku saying he wasn't a true AI for so long? Whatever it was, the computer continued, "enjoy the beating. I will be sure to record it in great detail for you to learn from later."