Chapter 5: Chapter #5 | Oracles of Hephaestus and Apollo
Notes:
Startled, Izuku took a step back from the charging girl. Why on earth was there someone charging him? And flailing a wrench around in the air to top it off? As startled as he was, Izuku had still drilled the response into his body and didn't need to think about it when he prepared to step forward and disarm the girl. Before he could, the girl's foot caught on a piece of stray metal and sent her careening face-first into the sand, sliding to a stop just in front of Izuku. Izuku waited a moment and when the girl twitched, lifting her head to glare at him, he coughed.
"Well. That was certainly something. Are you alright? Miss?" Izuku addressed the girl now at his feet. The girl stood up in her skid mark, dusting herself off before striking a pose.
"I am the one and only Hatsume Mei! Remember the name because I'll soon be the biggest name in Hero Support! And you. You are the one that is stealing all my project scrap!" Hatsume swang her wrench at Izuku, missing when he sidestepped her. He began explaining to her while lazily dodging her rambunctious flailing, sand skittering across the beach with each movement.
"First of all, Miss Hatsume, this beach is an illegal dumping ground, and I am doing my best to clean it up. While I am using this as strength training, you are more than welcome to join me out here and take whatever you would like with you, as, once again, I am cleaning it up. Besides that, it is scrap, as you pointed out. It doesn't have an owner any longer, and you aren't the only one that needs parts." Hatsume froze mid-swing at that. Breathing deeply, eyes narrowing at Izuku, her crosshair pupils dilating back and forth as she scanned over his body.
She took him in carefully, toned muscle that was just shy of screaming jacked even if he was on the lithe side. Grit and grime in his nail beds with calluses forming on his hands and fingers. His skin was spattered with grime, oil, and grease from cleaning. She took in the parts peeking out of Izuku's bag. Though she didn't generally admit it, he looked good. Not in the 'oh my god he's so attractive' kind of way, not that she didn't think that rippling muscle and motor grease was attractive, but in the 'clearly he's working on something and he knows his stuff' kind of way. She lowered her wrench to her side, placing it back into her toolbelt.
"I may just do that. You said others needed scrap too. I've come here for parts for a while and I've not seen anyone else. That leaves you the one needing parts as the others part of that. Am I right? Another inventor?" Hatsume had slid from aggressive to cool. If she was going to have a competitor scrapping from the same place then she would certainly need to keep an eye on them. Besides that, she couldn't let him get to all the good stuff first. There had to be some treasures buried in those mountains.
"I suppose you can call me that." Izuku rubbed the back of his head, frowning. "I'm working on some gear plans for getting into the hero course, but I'm running into roadblocks. Most of my knowledge lies in the biological sciences, not the mechanical. So some of the pieces I need to prepare for some of the gear is a struggle to create." He felt a chill run up his spine and focused his attention back onto Hatsume from where he had been thinking about his blueprints. Her gaze, at some point, went from the cold analytical stare that it had been, to some kind of hungry animal sizing him up for dinner. She grabbed him suddenly and started feeling him up and muttering to herself. "Woah there!" Izuku backed out of her grasp quickly, a noticeable heat rising to his cheeks. "Just what exactly do you think you're doing?"
Hatsume smiled a wide, feral smile. "You're going to be a hero," she said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "I'm going to be a hero support technician, and luckily for you, my specialty is in the realm of mechanics." She grabbed Izuku's arm again, dragging him along. "Come, we have to get to my workshop. I have so many babies I can show you. We have to make so many babies if we're going to get you into the hero course."
"Wait WHAT." Izuku slammed his feet into the sand. "I have no problem with going to your workshop and talking gear, but what the hell is this about babies." Hatsume released him and pulled what looked suspiciously like a collapsible baton from her toolbelt. Flicking her wrist, she extended it, and after pressing the button on the base of it, it turned out Izuku was right. It was a baton. This baton, however, was clearly electrified. The entire body of the baton crackled with lightning as Hatsume cackled.
"This is one of my best babies so far. Most stun batons cap out somewhere around nine million volts, but I've managed to not only double the volts and then some, it comes in at just around twenty million volts while keeping the amperage down below the .2 lethal threshold, but I've also managed to electrify the entire rod rather than just the tip!" Hatsume babbled about her electrified rod while Izuku sweatdropped from the crackling power far too close for comfort.
"You call your inventions your babies." It wasn't so much a question, as Izuku had gotten that much, but more of a statement of disbelief that he had managed to run into someone that was both insane enough and smart enough to help him with what he needed to do.
"Obviously, now let's get going!" Before Hatsume could grab him again, Izuku dipped back out of the way.
"Let me grab my stuff and we'll stop by your workshop before I head home." Izuku was planning. She was strange, that much wasn't even a question. She was obsessed with her "babies," as she put it, to the extent that she swung a wrench at his head when she thought he was going to impede her ability to create. She was clearly intelligent if the portable lightning rod of hers was of any indication. She was off on the voltage for an actual lightning bolt but- not helping. He was digressing, and he needed to think. If she was capable of that, then he may be able to use her mechanical knowledge to supplement his own while he learned. He may just be able to get a business partner out of it, as well. She wanted to stay in support, it would seem, and he wouldn't have time as a hero to run all the tests he wanted quickly once he had a license. Certainly something for the future.
Izuku picked up his bag full of parts and, after a second of thought, picked up an old abused guitar that had been resting against a wall of refuse. It had certainly seen better days. It was scuffed to all hell, the finish on it was wearing off, and several of the strings would need to be replaced, but it was still serviceable. Some sandpaper, some new finish, new stain, new strings. Assuming nothing crazy was wrong with it, it would be good to be able to play again. It would certainly help to keep his mind from wandering. He forcibly stopped that thought line there.
"Alright, Hatsume, let's see this workshop of yours."
…
If Izuku was honest, he had expected a garage with some workbenches. Maybe some gadgets strewn around and a few blueprints hanging from the walls. Something similar to what his workshop was creeping towards. What he was met with was similar but more advanced. Hatsume had a series of machines that would prove useful to her work and a forge against the left wall upon walking in. Straight ahead, the wall was covered in shelves of gadgets, parts, and blueprints. The right wall had piles of scrap against it and what looked like a sad futon that was kind of half resting against the wall, half sagging to the ground. Izuku got the feeling that the futon saw more use than Hatsume's actual bed. The floor was concrete, which was only discernible by either feeling it beneath you or by looking at the edges of the room, as the center of the room's concrete had been long singed black from what appeared to be blast marks. The walls were plain, beside the blueprints, gadgets, and plethora of sound dampening pads.
"Welcome to Casa de la Hatsume. I have almost everything I could want right now in this workshop. I'll have access to better materials and machines once I get into UA, of course, but for now, this will do." Izuku quirked his eyebrow at her when she spun in a circle to look at him.
"Home of the Hatsume? Just how much time do you spend here that you refer to it as home?" Hatsume threw her hands in the air with a grin on her face.
"All of it! Now, let's get your measurements! I want to adjust a few of my babies. While I do that, you sketch out some of your designs you want my help with or advice on." Hatsume wasted absolutely no time in pulling at Izuku's bag and rushing him to set his things down. He smiled for the first time in a while. He couldn't help it. Her single-minded energy was absolutely infectious.
"Alright, Hatsume. Let's get to work then."
…
By the time Izuku had finished at Hatsume's workshop, the sun was dipping just under the horizon. Its orange hue had long since lost its luster and slipped instead into deep lilac and azure rays streaking through a steadily darkening sky. He chuckled a bit, thinking about his appearance and what others must think of him right now. His hair was pulling itself out of where he had tied it back and was sticking up in multiple places. He was covered in any number of substances ranging from oil and grease to soot from the innumerable explosions that Hatsume somehow managed to cause. Izuku smiled and shook his head, chuckling. How does one even manage to light pneumatic tubing on fire? He had no idea, and likely never would. The walk back home was calming for Izuku. The explosions had set him on edge, even if he had enjoyed the experiments. He had agreed to bring some of his blueprints for them to work on the next time he could stop by. Hatsume had gotten all starry-eyed when he had shown her sketches of a compact wrist-mounted crossbow and grappling hook design that he was blueprinting.
Hopefully, I'll be able to convince her to let me use her forge at some point. Gun laws have come a long way in Japan since the mid-two-thousands and the early twenty-first. It's not impossible to get a handgun and carry permit here anymore. I suppose that's one thing I can thank quirks for. Even if they stunted our growth as a species, at least they've made guns seem like useless toys. Which couldn't be further from the truth, frankly. Pretty sure except for a few percent, most don't have a quirk to deal with a subsonic round much less a supersonic one. Even still, it would be far easier to cast my own parts after carving a resin mold. I doubt I'll find one to my tastes here. Hatsume and I would need to make some serious progress before I go trusting her with potentially world-changing technologies. The fusion reactors, battery tech to go with, and a lot of my gear will have to wait until I'm sure I can partner with her through it all. I'm sure as hell not trusting a slightly crazy stranger with rail weapons even if she does seem nice.
Izuku shifted his bag on his right shoulder, while his left hand held the sad guitar in his left, as he stepped up to the door of his home. He had managed to get the sandpapering done while bouncing ideas with Hatsume in her workshop, but it still needed a new finish and stained along with a new set of strings. When he entered, he found his mother asleep at the table waiting for him. She looked calm in her sleep without any of the stress that he had initially seen when he first had come home from the hospital.
She worries far too much about me. It's good to see her resting like this. She deserves a good life after what she's put up with to get here. Gently, Izuku put down his bag and the newly sanded guitar before picking his mother up and carrying her back to her room to sleep in her bed. When he returned with a smile on his lips, he picked up his bag before looking around. The smile slid away and his eyes slipped into ice as he was reminded of Hisashi. I do think that I'll find out what you've been up to, father dearest.
Izuku returned to his room after setting his bag and the guitar in his workshop. Sitting down at his computer, he got to work setting up the same encryption scheme and proxy that they had used in the Black Cats. Admittedly, he had to make some minor adjustments owing to the different architecture of the devices, but he made do.
Not quite as perfect as Sergeant Reed would have set up, but then again, I'm pretty sure that man could have brought every nation here on earth to their knees within a week, so that'll have to suffice. The thought caused a sad smile to twitch at Izuku's lips. The man had been a genius amongst geniuses when it came to technology.
The image of a bloody vest flashed across his eyes. A kind face with a head of blond hair shaped into a fohawk. Bright blue eyes, staring up into his own Emerald with a smile. He yelled at the man to stay with him. His hands were covered in blood as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding. So much blood that it was everywhere. Up his arms, covering his vest, pooling below the communication sergeants back. Even if his medical training told him it was too late, he couldn't stop. Couldn't stop trying. Couldn't lose another Black Cat.
Izuku snapped back to the present with a shuddering breath and a sprint to the bathroom. Desperately, he ran cold water over his pale, clammy skin. As he looked into the mirror, he could still see the horrors that lurked behind his eyes. He clenched them shut and focused on his breathing. His hands shook even as he used them to splash more cold water on his face. He couldn't think of that now. He had work to do, and it wouldn't help anyone if he thought of that now. He took one last shuddering breath before drying his face and hands.
By the time Izuku had sat back down, he was once again focused on his task. He'd start with the telecommunications servers. He'd get any record of communication between his mother and Hisashi. If he was simply reading too much into the situation, and was violating her privacy for nothing, then he would drop it there. But if he found what he expected, he would then move onto I-Island's servers. Those would be a little harder to manage since the security supposedly rivaled the supposedly non-existent, clearly existent prison Tartarus. Even if it was technically supposed to be a secret facility, it had long since been exposed to the public. But much like Guantanamo Bay in the twenty-first, people would prefer to simply look away rather than confront the harsh truth of what their society did to villains. If Izuku found what he expected to find, then Hisashi would wish that he was in Tartarus rather than I-Island.
…
Izuku glanced at his clock when he heard his mother getting up for the day. Quietly, he saved and then closed the information documents he had been compiling. Eight in the morning and what he had found since he began digging had caused him to long since pass disgust. He had long since passed rage. Now what sat within him was a cold fury that would make Hisashi rue the day he was ever born. While his mother and Hisashi had talked a bit since the coma, for the most part, almost all communication had ceased from him. As it turned out, when his mother had said that she was told to not worry about him, what had actually happened is that there was a long argument regarding their quirkless child finally becoming less of a problem for everyone. From there, what he found only spiraled. The man was a quirkist asshole that loved lording his power over his department. From the video camera footage he had managed to strip out of their mainframes, it turned out that the man was sleeping with at least three members of said department. That's not even to mention the other dozen or so violations of his contract, much less human decency. The man wouldn't be getting away with his actions or behavior, even if he had to fly to the damn Island himself to wring his neck.
Deep breaths. You can't do anything about it now. Just catalog and compile his actions. You'll get your chance to deal with him. You left your monitor on their servers before you got booted by their security systems. You'll have plenty to crucify him with soon enough. Izuku stepped out into the kitchen and hugged his mother from behind. She was debating what to make for breakfast when he slipped up behind her. Inko was momentarily startled before realizing it was Izuku.
"Well aren't you up early today. What do you want for breakfast today, Izu?" Izuku shook his head and ushered her towards the living room.
"I'll make breakfast this morning. You go sit and drink your coffee." Inko sputtered slightly at the forceful way that she was ejected from her kitchen. But she certainly wasn't going to argue with Izuku making breakfast. Wait, when did he learn how to cook? Has he been paying that much attention to what I've been doing?
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Izuku quickly took stock of what he had to work with and started cooking. High protein would be good, considering his routine. When he had finished the cooking, he brought it out to his mother at the table.
"Eggs with Furikake, a small salad, and a Miso soup. I'm certain it isn't as good as your cooking, mom, but I thought you might want to be the one cooked for, for once."
Inko smiled at her son. "It smells delicious, honey. I'm sure it'll be great." She and Izuku dug into their breakfast, making small talk while doing so. She spoke of some of the dishes she'd been perfecting at work in preparation of adding them to the menu. When asked, Izuku spoke of what his schedule looked like for the day. He'd do a bit more school work, probably finish out his junior year before the end of the week, before heading out to the beach to continue his work.
"I'll likely head off the beach earlier than usual from now on. I met someone yesterday, and we spent some time working on some designs at her workshop. I'm hoping I'll be able to make a business partner out of her in the future. After that, I'll likely head over to the local music store in the next couple of days to pick up some strings for a guitar that I've been working on restor-" Izuku cut off when he looked up from his food to find his mother staring at him wide-eyed. Before he could ask what was wrong, she cried out.
"My Izuku has met a girl!" The Midoriya family tears had made their appearance. "When do I get to meet her? What is she like? What does she plan on doing in the future? You have to tell me everyth-" Inko was cut off by Izuku laughing, a smile spread across his face.
"Mom. Mom, stop" Izuku tried to reign in his laughter. Catching his breath, he continued. "Nothing is going on. She's tentatively a friend at most right now. Like I said, I hope I'll be able to make her my business partner in the future. I can answer a few of those questions though. I don't know when you'll get to meet her, as I'm not sure she spends much if not the minimum time outside of her workshop than what is required of her. She's… passionate is the word I'll use, about her work." Izuku decided it would be best to leave out precisely how they had met. "She's planning on becoming a hero support technician, which is why she latched onto me. She knows I plan on becoming a hero and wants to work with me to make us both the best in our fields."
Inko had frozen at the mention of the Hero course. Her smile became tense and barely did Inko manage not to let it turn into a frown. Izuku spoke softly, when he saw this, his tone turning more serious and somber, his smile becoming smaller but at the same time soft, as well.
"I know you don't like the idea, Mom. I'm sorry that I worry you, and don't deny that it's a major concern of yours." Izuku shook his head. "No. I know that you worry about my safety. That you worry if I take this path, I'll get myself seriously injured or worse because of my lack of a quirk. But Mom, I can't help but take the path that'll let me save the most lives. Help the most people." Inko opened her mouth to respond but, once again, Izuku shook his head. "I know what you're going to say. Why not the police? Why not be a doctor? I got Hisashi's intelligence from him, so why not become a support technician like my friend?"
Izuku let those questions hang in the air for a moment. "I've already thought about those options, Mom, and they aren't the path for me. The police would be just as dangerous. While unnoticed, they are still at the scene of every Hero operation. I can't just help people after they've been injured, so being a doctor is out. Not that I won't pursue that route to some degree, it just can't be the only thing I do." Izuku let the implications of that sink in. Inko didn't try to say anything this time. She stared into Izuku's eyes, so emerald like her own, searching for something. Some hint of hesitation she could use, could playoff to keep her son safe. Izuku reached across the table now and took her hands in his own.
"I can't promise you that I'll always come back home safe. I won't lie to you. I can't promise that I'll always be safe when I'm in the field. My first priority will always be an innocent civilian's safety and survival before my own." Inko watched as her son's eyes saw something in the distance that she couldn't. Those familiar emerald eyes were now far older than they had any right to be. When he spoke, he spoke with an experience that was impossible for him. Yet it was there. The gravity of his words hung in the air. "The job I'm planning on performing isn't safe, you're right. Any number of things could happen. But I can't leave an innocent person in a situation when I could do something about it. What I can promise you," Izuku squeezed his mother's hands as he took a deep breath, surfacing from whatever memory he was in, " is that at the end of the day, I'll do my best to come back. I'll do my best to make sure everyone gets out safe. This is my home, and that is always worth fighting for. Always worth protecting."
Inko fought the urge to cry. To beg him to please reconsider, to take some safe position in a remote hospital for her. But she couldn't. She could see his face when the doctor had diagnosed him quirkless. Could still see his face when she said she was sorry that night. Sorry for so many things. The Izuku she saw in front of her now, though, wasn't the same scared young boy he used to be. He had grown so much without her even noticing it. He had made up his mind, and while a few tears slipped out, she couldn't, no. Wouldn't discourage him any further. "Alright." Inko managed to choke out the word around her emotions. "Be careful, okay? That's all I suppose I can ask of you."
Both Midoriya's gave each other sad smiles before his mother processed something that came before the darker turn to their conversation.
"What do you mean DONE with your junior year!?"
…
Izuku sighed as Hatsume once again ran her numbers, flailing as she did so. "How is this possible?! It isn't possible. There is no way your muscles and bones are this dense. That's not possible for a human being. Are you certain you don't have an enhancer quirk that you're not aware of?" Hatsume frantically clawed at her hair, looking at the same results from the last three times she had run the numbers.
Izuku shook his head. He had told her several times at this point he was quirkless, but she continued to doubt him. Though seeing numbers like the ones that she was looking at, it didn't surprise him why. It had been an important step for them. If she had reacted negatively to him being quirkless, then he would have dropped her immediately. "No, Hatsume. I've not any quirk, like I've said multiple times, and as I was saying regarding the suit, we're just going to have to make my gear capable of underwater combat, especially since my muscle and bones will only get denser. The rebreather will be an important part of that."
Hatsume spun to look at him at the forge from where she was at her desk. "Midoriya, the average human muscle is about 1.06kg per liter. Your muscle density is already triple that and you're telling me it's going to get denser?! This has to be a quirk. There is no other way you could possibly be like this." Hatsume paced as Izuku put the final touches on what would be the cast for the slide of a handgun. It had been easy enough to get her permission to make something. She was so excited to work with another person, he's pretty sure he could have proposed a nuclear warhead and she'd have said yes.
"Hatsume, if you want, you can have a sample of my blood to run for quirk factor. Of which, you won't find even if you find a way to get the equipment to run the blood." Izuku set aside the cast of the slide with the other parts that he had completed and stood up stretching. "Regardless. It doesn't change what needs to be done or just how badly it needs to be a part of the design. I have no interest in drowning simply because I didn't take the precautions and ran into a damn water bending quirk." Hatsume pouted at him.
"Obviously I have no problem putting it in the design, but if we aren't careful, then the design is just going to get outdated when you suddenly sprout fins and gills. Also, don't go throwing ATLA references at me to sass me." Izuku smirked and grabbed his bag, currently empty of scrap, and the guitar that had been drying of its final stain layer. All that was left was to get the new strings.
"That's fair enough. You've not had the prior experience with this I have. I'll see you again tomorrow and we'll start working on the prototype for the gauntlet. Sound good?" Izuku conceded the point, and Hatsume smiled. They had reworked the design on the wrist crossbow to be modular. The gauntlet would serve as a base for the modules to snap to on the fly, in case he needed to change out what was on his arm or a module got trashed. In addition, Hatsume believed she had come up with a way to minimize the bulk of it until it was effectively mounting to an undersuit that would cover him like a wetsuit. If they could get the idea operating, it would allow them a lot of leeway in the actual gear. Besides that, if Izuku could find a way to replicate Ostum here on earth. He shook that idea away. That would require facilities that he simply wouldn't have access to. Even if he could remember the exact makeup of the material, which he could, he didn't have any way to recreate it.
Izuku quickly found himself on a train to the local commercial district. While it wasn't quite as large, diverse, or generally as populous as if he went into the city, the music store there was well-liked by the area, and he figured he'd go somewhere close. He got off the train and worked his way through the streets until he had reached the storefronts. He found his destination right beside a small family run market and deli. It was a quaint little neighborhood, and if Izuku'd had to resort to using the GPS on his phone, then no one would have to know.
Upon entry into the store, Izuku could see that he was in the right place. Organized rows of instruments lined the walls and show floor. He wandered over to the guitars with his stringless one to find a new set and realized very quickly that he was out of his depth. Steel, nickel, brass, bronze, nylon. Besides that, there were different string cores, winding types, and coatings. An employee evidently had seen his distress, as she had made her way over to him before tapping him on the shoulder.
"May I help you, sir?" The girl was about his age, he noticed. Slender and fair-skinned, she was several inches shorter than him. Short, purple hair sat cropped just above her shoulders, but the most prominent features were her two plug-like jacks where her earlobes were. Izuku chuckled nervously.
"Is it that obvious I needed the help?" Izuku gave her a small, nervous smile. "I'm looking to get strings for this." Izuku handed the guitar to the girl as he explained. "My friend who taught me how to play was also the one that dealt with these kinds of things. So I have absolutely no idea what I'm looking for here." Izuku gestured to the wall of string types and varieties. "So in this case, I'd love your help." Izuku looked down at the tag on her shirt. "Miss Jiro."
Jiro snorted, still enraptured by the guitar. "You don't need to call me miss. We're the same age by the look of things." Jiro ran her hands up the body of the guitar, admiring the rune-like carvings in the stained surface, as well as the carefully hand-carved icon of a black cat sitting on a moon in the lower right of the guitar. "This is amazing work. Who did you have do this for you? I know all of the guitar makers in the area, and I don't recognize this work. And what are these symbols? Is that ancient greek?"
Izuku smiled down at the guitar. It was always nice to have your work recognized. Especially if it was someone clearly so enthusiastic about instruments. "I've been working on this carefully for the last couple of days. I'm glad you like it, and no, not ancient greek. Something like that though."
Jiro's head whipped up. "You did this in only a couple days? The woodworking on this would imply weeks. That's amazing. What does it say?" Izuku continued to smile, practically beaming at her praise.
"It's an old quote from the nineteenth-century author Minot J. Savage. It holds a bit of personal meaning for me. Same with the icon of the cat. 'The brave die never, though they sleep in dust: Their courage nerves a thousand living men.'" Izuku's smile had taken on a sad tinge, and Jiro looked at him slightly confused but could see the meaning behind the words all the same.
"Well, Mr.?" Jiro held the guitar at its heel in her left hand and reached out with her right. Izuku looked up from the guitar where he had been staring distantly at the engraved symbols and shook her hand.
"Midoriya Izuku."
"Well, Midoriya, lets get you strung up, shall we? You have, in my opinion, two options for an acoustic guitar like this." Jiro turned to the wall and started pointing out strings to Izuku. "I personally think the nylon strings sound better when they're being picked, but steel strings sound better when they're strummed." She glanced over and took one of Izuku's hands in her own.
"You certainly have the callouses that steel strings wouldn't be an issue. They tend to hurt people's fingers until they have calluses built up. The nylon strings contribute a warmer, mellower sound to the guitar and are well suited to genres like classical and folk. Meanwhile, the steel strings would be better suited for most other things." Izuku took the information in as she threw it at him, and he made his decision by the time she had finished.
"I'll go with steel strings. A lot of what I've learned to play leans more towards what would be considered classical or folk, but I think it would be better to have the range." Jiro smiled at that and brought him to the counter.
"I'll get this strung up for you, and after that's done, we can get you checked out. It'll only take a bit to restring the guitar, but it could take an hour or two of playing to break in the strings and let them stay in tune. If you are interested, we could take it over to the deli after I've restrung it. I'd love to hear you play some. If that is that your playing skills are half of your woodworking." Izuku quirked his eyebrow at that, still smiling, though a little embarrassed at the offer.
"Do all employees take such a personal interest in every instrument that comes through?" Jiro blew out her cheeks, slightly pink at that, and looked away.
"Look, it's been a slow day, and you are by far the most interesting person to come in here lately. Don't let it go to your head. As for the few minutes until close after that, I'm sure my parents can handle it. It's our place, and like I said. It's been slow." Midoriya smiled and agreed. It would be good to get feedback from someone that, apparently, came from a musical family. He was certain he was likely rusty.
…
It was practically no time before they found themselves sitting at a table out in front of the deli with drinks and small sandwiches. Him with a freshly strung guitar and her with one that she had pulled from the back of the shop. For a while they didn't play, they sat and talked while finishing off the snack they had picked up. They spoke of many things. What it was like to work in the shop, funny little anecdotes, his projects, some of her ideas for projects. Izuku had learned that her parents were musicians as well as owning the shop. He actually recognized their names when he heard them in full. They weren't world-class but they were certainly popular within Japan.
When they did play, the air was filled with a serenade of notes. A warm melody that eased the heart and made one think of the good days. Jiro was absolutely blown away by the young man that had come in the shop looking for strings for what appeared to be an exotic guitar. Then he began to sing. In what language, she had no idea, but the message still came through all the same. It sounded like a story of love, loss, and redemption. One that made a heart cry out for better times before Izuku returned to those steady, warm days.
"So is that what you want to do? Follow in their footsteps and become a musician?" Izuku asked her as he finished cleaning up his area. She tensed and frowned before sighing and looking down at her hands.
"I'll admit, I'm not sure anymore. Used to, I would have said yes to that without hesitation. But lately? I don't know anymore. I want to help people, but I'm not sure how to do it. Should I go to a hero school? Should I be a musician? Does that make sense?" Jiro looked up to find Izuku nodding. He knew very well what that feeling was like and stated as such.
"I had that very struggle recently myself, so I know all too well. I decided to get a hero license to help people, but is that the only way? No, not at all. Is that the best way to help people? Maybe. Maybe not. That's arguable on multiple fronts and from multiple points for both ways. Police, firefighters, doctors, there are any number of careers that help people. Even musicians, in their own way, have a special ability to inspire that many other careers don't."
"If that's the case, what do I do? I hate this feeling of indecision. You seem so resolute in your decision."
"As corny as it sounds, Jiro, all I can really say is to follow your heart. I didn't simply look at the pros and cons and go, 'Ah yes, this appears to be the best way.'" Izuku shook his head. "No, quite the opposite. All of the options seemed like good ones. I simply went with the one I felt would suit me the best. Maybe it might not be apparent to you right now, but I'm sure you'll get there. Here, let's do this." Izuku pulled a ten yen coin out of his pocket and held it up for Jiro to see.
"This isn't definite, but I find it helps sort out your feelings occasionally. If the coin lands on the musician's side and you feel disappointed, then it certainly clears up your subconscious thoughts on the matter, yes?" Izuku flipped the coin into the air, but while Jiro's eyes were on the coin, Izuku's were looking through the window of the deli and straight at a robber holding up the kind old man who had served them their food. Before the coin even hit the table, Izuku was moving to intercept.
By the time Izuku had stepped through the doors, the robber was already starting to get twitchy. The old man wasn't moving as fast as the robber would have liked and the robber had a handgun pointed directly at the old man.
Where the hell did he get that from? Japan may be more relaxed, but they are still stringent as hell regarding it. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Izuku called out to the robber, his hands already in the air when the man whipped around, face startled and eyes desperate.
No signs of drug use. Pupils are steady if not a bit large from adrenaline. Seems coherent. "Why are you doing this?" Izuku asked the man this calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing to be asked right then.
"What does it matter?!" The man bites out the reply. "It doesn't matter at this point anyway!" he jerked the gun back to the old man yelling at him to hurry before swinging it back towards Izuku who had crept slightly closer.
"Look. Right now, you're in trouble. I won't lie and tell you that you aren't. But right now, you haven't done anything you can't come back from." Izuku looked across the man, catching any details he could use to talk him down. He didn't want to have to hurt someone if he didn't have to. A wedding band, so he's married. His eyes flicked across his clothing where various hair was stuck to it. "Do you have a family? A pet?" Izuku calmly asked the man his questions. Gotta keep in talking. Keep his attention on me.
The man grit his teeth as he looked at Izuku. "I have two daughters. My wife died a month ago. We have a calico that wanders in and out if you can consider that a pet." The gun was still trained on Izuku, but he had his attention now.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Izuku frowned. "I've lost a good number of people, and I know how hard that is. It must be rough taking care of your daughters now on your own. How old are they?"
The man licked his lips, gun drooping slightly as he thought about his children. "It is. It's so hard. They're four and six. How do you explain to your daughters at that age why you can't eat dinner every night or why they never get to see you because you're always working?!" The man was getting agitated again and starting to twitch.
"It's hard to tell someone that young something like that. You can't expect them to understand. Their happiness is your responsibility, and you can see that slipping away from you far too quickly. But think about them right now. Like I said, right now you're in trouble, but you haven't passed the point of no return. If you want them to be happy, you can't go through with this. What would they think of what you're doing right now? What would you tell them about this? Everyone needs help sometimes, that's nothing to be ashamed of. Just hand me the gun. We can still both walk away from this. Yes? You can go back home to your daughters."
The man seemed to struggle for a moment before breaking. "Alright," he choked out. "I don't want this to be how my daughters remember me." The man was so close to handing over the gun when the door slammed open and Death Arms came running in. The man snapped the gun back up a frantic look in his eyes before strafing his gun across both Death Arms and Jiro now standing in the doorway.
What happened next ran in slow motion for Izuku. Death Arms slammed his fist into the robber's stomach. The robber fired when his body clenched from the impact, and the gun was pointed straight at Jiro. Izuku was already moving and had just enough time to dive and grab Jiro before the bullet skimmed through his right tricep. No sooner had the robber hit the floor out cold than Izuku was up and yelling at Death Arms.
"You goddamn idiot! I was seconds away from diffusing the situation before you broke through the front door." Izuku jerked his left arm at the glass double doors that were now shattered. "Besides that, rather than disarm the man, you chose to punch him. The body clenches when it's hit you asshole. You damn near got an innocent civilian killed because of your inability to deal with the situation properly."
Death Arms simply stared Izuku down as he yelled at him before grunting back. "Look, I know you're probably upset about getting shot, boy, but don't yell at the man that just saved your life. The villain needed to be taken down, and that's what I did. A couple doors aren't anything compared to a bullet through your chest or head when the villain decided to stop toying with you."
Izuku simply stared at the man in horror before turning on his heel shaking his head and moving to Jiro. "Are you alright?" he helped her to her feet before hissing when she poked his right arm.
"Am I alright? Are you alright? You've been shot!" Jiro was frantically gesturing to Izuku's bleeding arm.
"I'm fine. It just grazed me," Izuku muttered right after that it wasn't the first time he'd been shot. He didn't realize that Jiro could hear him at that volume and didn't catch it on her face as he began tearing his shirt apart to triage the flesh wound. They would have to stay to speak with the police as soon as they arrived, and oh boy did Izuku want a word with them regarding their "Hero." Izuku glanced over and picked up his ten yen coin.
"Hey, look at that," Izuku smirked up at his companion. "Looks like it landed on hero." Little did he know that Jiro had already made her decision.