In a world where the extraordinary was ordinary and the ordinary was considered a rarity, it was not an exaggeration to say that there was a Quirk for every occasion. The very first generation of Quirks that had appeared, had been relatively basic. People emitted energy, they gave off light, could fire electricity or manipulate fire, or they had become somewhat physically mutated, the taking on of slightly ape-like traits being the most commonly found.
Now, over two hundred years later, some Quirks were downright bizarre.
People were born with traits found in animals that had no common ground with humanity. The standard human body itself had, over time, now become stronger, slightly denser and more durable than had once been the norm but had also started commonly showing traits that went beyond the formerly known palette, such as exotic skin tones and hair colours. There were people with random traits, which went far beyond standard understanding; body parts made of machines, heads made of cooking utensils, additional limbs, pieces of technology fused into the human skin.
Finding a group to suit your particular needs wasn't considered particularly difficult, though it could be quite expensive.
Fortunately for him, Izuku no longer had much of a problem with money.
And for a man of Izuku's means, getting the right people to do what you wanted was simply a matter of offering them the right amount of money, and choosing the right time to put them to work.
The new Kamino had been built upon the site of the old. In the beginning, when the land was finally in a position to be sold off, (and cheaply at that), the existing ground was a messy mixture of destroyed buildings, abandoned tunnels and caved-in drainage lines.
And it was after a survey revealed all of that to him, when Izuku found the Bolivian team.
A group of spelunkers from the country of Bolivia, they were licenced by the government, to use their Quirks in aid of search and rescue work. He'd reached out, discretely, (and under a false name), to hire them to help clear the way for his underground car park and the level for the building's hydrogen fusion generator. With a bit of creative bookkeeping on his part, a handful of conversations in bad Spanish, and a few additional payments to fly them out of Bolivia and pay for their accommodations, Izuku had managed to convince them to start their work far lower down than what they officially needed, having them clear out a cave area deep below ground, before realising his 'error', and renegotiating their contracts to stabilise the completed area, before restarting it, far above it, at the levels that were officially listed.
A visit from Rody in a wig, business suit, hard hat and carrying a clipboard was enough to convince them that the government were aware of the issue and were already planning on resolving it, before he thanked them for their work, paid them handsomely, and saw them off back to Bolivia.
When last he checked, the team was back to their usual business, carrying out official work.
And as their elevator came to a close, Izuku and Rody stepped out to look upon the fruits of their labour.
=== === === === ===
The first thing that stood out to Rody was the fact that the air he was breathing was crisp and clean, despite the fact that they were deep underground. The air should have tasted dry and stale, but clearly fresh air was being pumped in. It was dark and difficult to see was his second thought, but then he took a step forwards, stepping clearly out of the elevator compartment, and bright lights came on overhead, illuminating everything, piece-by-piece.
"Holy woah", he murmured.
Izuku chuckled, "Yeah, I said the same thing, first time I saw it".
It was a cave.
That felt like an understatement, but it was the truth.
He could see the stalactites on the ceiling, pointing straight down towards the floor, which was a series of platformed areas and walkways. In his head, Rody had imagined a perfect cube underground, but this was a literal cavern, with the manmade additions been built out of and into the existing grey stone. Each side of each pathway had been lined with strips of soft white LEDs, gently lighting everything clearly up.
The platforms were made of silver and grey metals, but they didn't shine in the light, having been cleaned and polished, but then buffed to remove any glares. A handful of doors, also metallic grey in nature, (Rody assumed that they were made of steel), were present, hiding a few of the rooms from immediate view.
"Come on", Izuku told him, having given him a few moments to take it all in, "this shouldn't take long".
They walked down one of the ramps, dropping to the next level as they did, where an enormous computer was waiting for them. The interconnected screens would have taken up an entire wall of any other room, yet the complete product managed to not look out of place in the cave, there was a single chair set in front, a computer keyboard that could be charitably compared to one belonging to a grand piano, and more equipment connected into it than Rody knew how to describe.
When Izuku had told him that they would have access to a supercomputer, he hadn't been kidding.
"What is this?"
"My computer".
"Izuku…"
"Okay", he sighed, "fine, it's her computer".
"I'm serious".
"Well, she just calls it the computer-"
"You know that I know that you do too, right?"
"-and basically, it's a supercomputer of her own personal design, it forms the heart of what the two of us are going to be doing here. Our beloved Oracle has spent the last few years connecting herself into just about every database on the planet she could find, and the computer-"
"Maybe we should give it a name", Rody mused, stroking his imaginary beard, as Pino did the same, peeking his head out of the collar of his jacket, "just calling it the computer seems a little bland".
"-is connected into all of them. Thanks to what we've achieved in building design, it's also completely linked into all of DEKU Tower and every system available to it, including those we have down here. From here, we can control everything around us, letting it automatically update itself with every bit of information it can get its hands on. Schematics, security protocols, entrances, exits, shift patterns, police radio chatter; if you can name it, we can find it. We can hear about crimes in progress as they happen, put together crime patterns. Thanks to Oracle, we can remotely access every networked computer available and run facial recognition".
"That's frightening".
"I know", Izuku agreed, before he shook his head, "but as a tool, it's indispensable".
"Does it at least get cable?"
He smiled, "Every channel".
"And, well, I don't want to sound rude, but I mean-"
"Yes, we get every channel upstairs too".
"Does that-"
"-Also include that international ones? Yes, it does".
"Good to know, now… what exactly are we doing down here?"
"Turning it on".
There was a panel off to the side of the keyboard, a simple rectangle, which scanned in Izuku's palmprint when he laid his hand upon it, and with that, the computer came to life. There were feeds on every screen, scanners and data telling the two of them what was going on for the location they were set to.
They were set to the area around DEKU Tower for the moment.
While it was true that large swaths of Kamino had been rebuilt, turning the area into what Izuku hoped would one day stand out to the world as a beacon of light, both for the business world, and for those simply seeking to live out normal lives, free of pain and injustice.
Sinking into the synthetic leather chair, he spent a few minutes tapping at keys and manipulating the screens, before he sat back with a yawn. He felt the shift behind him, as Rody leant onto the back of the chair, pushing it forward, and he could feel his crossed arms rubbing against his hair.
"Are you done?"
"You know, you didn't have to come down here with me".
"And we both know that you've forgotten things before, when I left you alone. Eating, drinking, sleeping", his voice was teasing, but that was a hint of worry in there, "you know, the little things like that".
Rolling his eyes, Izuku rose to his feet, before moving to press his palm onto the scanner once again, letting the computer push his programmes into the background, and shutting the screens down.
"And yes, I'm done by the way".
"Good", Rody nodded, gently guiding his friend away by his shoulder, "now, come on, bed".
"You do know that you're not my father, right?"
"Yeah, well", they stepped into the elevator together, "we both know that one of him is two more than the planet needs".
=== === === === ===
There were many things Izuku knew that he needed to do, now that he had returned to Japan, before it was too late.
He needed to fill his currently empty apartment. He needed to buy himself a car, (or several). He needed to finish the remaining interviews for his senior staff. He needed to plan the announcement of DEKU Tower's official opening. He needed to host the party for DEKU Tower's official opening. He had to go with Rody to drop off Roro and Lala for their first days at their new schools.
All of it was very important and needed doing, most of it very soon, and there was little time to waste.
So Izuku chose to prioritise.
He went out to buy flowers.
Purple primroses, blue irises and a handful of red carnations, wrapped up together in a tidy bouquet, and tied together with green tissue paper.
It was a little over two-hour train ride to Musutafu, and by the time he arrived, mid-morning had passed, and it was already nearing noon. He found that the day was bright - too bright, in his opinion - and that utterly unblocked sunlight seemed to be boring down on him, making him feel uncomfortable in his suit; a simple cheap two-piece that he bought to travel in, charcoal grey in colour, matched with a pale pink shirt, the same shade of salmon as his mother's favourite cardigan, which he worse sans tie, and with his top button left undone.
The cemetery was less foreboding than what he could remember from his childhood, but he was happy to see that the path to his mother's final resting place was well-tended, the grass had been recently trimmed, and it seemed that any stray weeds had been swiftly pulled from the ground.
Finding her was easy.
Even after eighteen years away, and not having been back once, he could still remember every step he'd taken the first time around. He was taller now, his legs were longer, his feet were bigger, his stride reached further, and with every step he took, he drew closer to her. He was happy to see that the area around the haka was tidy, and as he drew closer, he was surprised to see a small plant pot sat in front of it, two sweet peas, two bluebells and a large white chrysanthemum in the centre.
His family name took up the centre of the haka, etched into the dark stone, while his mother's name, was etched onto the side, below that of her own parents.
"Hi Mom", he slid his jacket off, using it to keep his legs clean, as he knelt down in front of her and his other ancestors, none of whom, he'd ever met, "I'm sorry it took me so long to visit", he set the bouquet down gently, making sure he didn't disturb the other flowers that, he assumed, had been left for her, "but I'm here now, and I've got quite a story to tell you, if you'd like".
And tell her he did.
The cemetery was quiet for the day, with only a few people passing by, so he was content to kneel on his square patch of grass and talk at his mother. He'd missed her, but he could remember doing the same thing when he was a child, be it after school, or after a day trip. The two of them would cuddle up on the couch, and he giggle and try to crawl away, while she used her Quirk to lightly pull on his shirt, before he gave in and snuggled into her side, before launching into the telling of his day's tale. They were usually long-winded, with many expressions and at some point, would devolve into a story featuring a group of villains and All Might saving the day.
And in little Izuku's stories, All Might showed up to save the day, a lot.
He told her a little of his time in America, time spent almost entirely in the confines of his father's house, studying and learning everything he could, first from his tutors, and then from online courses. He'd begun his travels around the world at sixteen and since then, he'd seen some truly amazing places: the wilds of Alaska, the beaches of Hawaii and the streets of Washington D.C.; the history of London; the beauty of Paris; the calm of Tuscany; the peace of Geneva; the chaos of Gadfrey; the genius of I-Island; and even the nothingness of the Australian Outback.
He'd seen a lot in his short time, but the time had come for him to return to Japan, and here he was, sat talking to a non-existent in a cemetery in Musutafu, Japan. Despite being alone, he kept his voice quiet, enjoying his reminiscing, as he silently imagined his mother's presence beside him, worrying about where he'd been.
There would probably be tears.
Lots of tears.
And not just from her.
He kept his stories brief, not going into the level of detail that he knew would have worried her, but still managed to talk for what felt like days. The sun had gone past the midday point, and by the time he was finished talking, several other people and families had passed him by, on their way to visit their loved ones.
It was because of the constant traffic that he almost missed the woman behind him entirely, only realising that she was there, when she was mere feet away from him.
"Izuku?!"
Surprised by the sound of his own name, he whirled around, twisting in his makeshift seat, as he took in the visage of his surprise visitor.
"Aunt Mitsuki?"
=== === === === ===
He was honestly surprised by just how little she had changed.
It had been over a decade since his green eyes had made contact with her red ones, yet Izuku found that she looked exactly the way he remembered her.
Ash-blonde hair, cut short, not quite able to reach her shoulders, only now there were two noticeable grey streaks running besides her temples. She was wearing a white blouse, as she almost always did, keeping for that clean, classic look that he remembered, which she had paired with an orange-trimmed, black coat, no doubt as a constant reminder of her son. He also realised that, for a woman turning fifty years-old this year, she barely looked to be thirty-five. In fact, it was only the grey in her hair that gave away her advancing age.
But then, her Quirk had always kept her looking young.
His mom had muttered about how unfair that had been more than once. It hadn't made sense to him as a kid, and he had asked her once, 'why' it was unfair, but all she'd done is response was blush bright red and promise to explain it when he was older, before letting him watch All Might cartoons.
He'd always let himself be distracted by All Might cartoons.
He'd even collected most of them as B-Discs.
The memories were brought to the forefront of his mind, as he allowed his Aunt Mitsuki to shepherd him towards her apartment. She was still living in the same building, just a stone's throw away from where he and his mother had once lived, though, admittedly, in a much nicer, much more expensive building, and as he waited for her to open the gated entrance, he turned his head in the direction of his old home, imagining the white stone exterior that had once been so familiar to him.
"You okay?"
He nodded, hoping that he hadn't started crying, and his voice was thick when he asked, "Do you know who's living there now?"
She shook her head, "Sorry, no", she rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, "there was an elderly couple, Oga, their name was, who took it a few weeks after you moved, but they've both passed away now. The funeral for the old man was almost three months ago. I think it's been empty since".
"Well, that's good to know, that it was used", he tacked on when she looked at him strangely, "and didn't just sit there, someone found it useful. I hope that they loved it as much as Mom and I did".
"Your uncle and I met them a few times", she told them, as he let her pull him into her side, so that she could give him a hug, "they were a nice couple, sweet, affectionate. They had a grandson about your age. He came by with them a few times, always trying to make sure they were safe".
"He sounds nice".
She turned to wink back at him, "He was single too".
He smirked back, "Was he cute?"
She barked out a laugh, even as she steered them towards the door to their building, "Finally, someone who asks the right kind of question. Kats just barks and barks about nothing".
"Is he here?"
She snorted, "Fuck no. He got into U.A. a few years ago and graduated what, must be seven years ago, maybe eight? Yeah, eight this year", she nodded to herself, as they began to climb the stairs, her apartment being on the second floor, if he remembered correctly, "and after that, he came home on Friday and moved to Tokyo on Monday. He comes by four times a year for a visit and that's it. We barely see him".
"How's he doing?"
"Fine, I guess", she shrugged, "committed to his work. He interned under Best Jeanist, and then started as a sidekick to Endeavor. He was the Number One Pro Hero back then, so that was a pretty big deal for him. He barely let it go on for three years in before he set up shop on his own".
"He went solo already?" Izuku had already known that much, having seen the latest billboard rankings, but he played his part of the returning newcomer well. Honestly, even if he hadn't seen the latest listing, he wouldn't have said he was too surprised. The youngest member of the Bakugo Family had always been competitive, independent and headstrong. Traits that had combined with an explosive temper to make him an awful child to be around, but had made him a successful Pro Hero, cracking the top fifty in under five years.
Yet wouldn't let him enter the top twenty-five, Izuku had noted, with a not insignificant amount of satisfaction.
In some respects, at least, Japan had managed to learn from the past.
"Yep", Mitsuki interrupted his thoughts, with just a hint of pride in her tone, "he's running the Explosive Agency now, with himself as his only employee. It's no DEKU Enterprises, but it's not bad at all".
"Ah", he couldn't help the wrinkling of his nose, "so… you've heard of that".
"Sweetie", she smiled at him, the way she had when he was a child, "you've been all over the news for weeks. I mean, it's the business news, mind, but still".
"Yeah…"
"Anyway", she pushed door open, "Masaru, I'm back", she called out, grinning, "and you'll never guess who I found!"
"Mitsuki, what are you-", as he rounded the corner, her husband stopped when he saw who was with her, his mouth falling open, resembling a fish, before he muttered, "Izuku?"
The other smiled softly, raising a hand in greeting, as he replied in a tone that was just as soft, "Hi Uncle Masaru".
=== === === === ===
While Katsuki had inherited Mitsuki's more temperamental personality traits, only his combined with his Quirk to become much more exaggerated, (and were much worse for it, in Izuku's opinion), his Uncle Masaru had always been softer than the rest of his family.
He embraced Izuku like a long-lost son, and Izuku felt warmer for it.
He hadn't aged as well as his wife, though neither Izuku, Mitsuki or Masaru himself had expected him to. His once spiky hair had drooped with age, and was now combed expertly backwards, adding to the shape of his face. His barely-there moustache was now a neatly trimmed goatee, and much like the hair atop his head, was now almost entirely grey in colour, with only a few scant streaks of brown to be seen.
As he released him, and the two of them stepped back, and took a good look at each other. In his younger years, Masaru had been well-built, with broad shoulders and a lean frame. His shoulders were still broad, if a tad thinner, than Izuku remembered, but his lean frame had given way to a slight paunch of his belly.
Despite that though, he looked well. He seemed free from stress, and it warmed his heart to see the way he and Aunt Mitsuki looked at each other, even after all their years together.
In no time at all, Izuku found himself in their kitchen, sat across from his honorary aunt, as his honorary uncle prepared a pot of fresh tea for them to share, while a nearby sound system played a quiet rendition of what Izuku thought might be Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, though he wasn't completely sure.
"So, Izuku", Masaru broke the silence easily enough, "how's your father doing?"
"No idea".
That brought him up, turning away from his teapot for a moment, "You don't know?"
Izuku shrugged, unconcerned, "I haven't spoken to my father in over ten years", he remembered that day as clearly as it was yesterday, "he threw me out when I was sixteen and we haven't spoken since".
"HE DID WHAT?!"
For a moment, there was peace in the kitchen, before his aunt exploded from her seat, yelling, as she slammed her hands down on the table.
Izuku took a moment to let her regain a semblance of calm, breathing like an angry bull, before his uncle gently set down the finished tea between them. He took a seat beside her, and gently pried her hands from the table, interlacing the fingers of her right hand with his left.
"Izuku", his uncle's tone was soft, even as his wife grumbled to herself, wearing an expression that could kill lesser men, "what happened?"
"My father's a quirkist asshole", he told them bluntly, and he could see the shock registering on their faces. While it had often felt as though their own son couldn't go more than two sentences without the use of some measure of profanity, neither of them could ever recall an instance of Izuku using it himself. They knew from memory that Inko had always been extremely careful to keep her own language clean and 'decent' around him, and while that wouldn't have prevented him from hearing it from everyone else, it had always seemed to be enough to prevent him from using any of it.
"Okay… I hear you", Masaru took a sip of his tea, "but can you say a little more?"
Izuku shrugged once again, taking a sip from his own cup, "My father was one of the only Japanese men living in our area, so we stood out. When I got to America, he decided that he didn't want his Quirkless son becoming a public embarrassment, so he arranged for me to get a couple of tutors instead of going to normal school classes. That bit wasn't so bad, I guess. I had more time to learn English, and then I started passing my classes before I was supposed to be able to, and when I was sixteen, I started applying to colleges and hero schools, I even sent out applications to a handful of Pro Hero schools. A couple of the nicer ones told me that I would be a good fit for their support or business courses, but the others just told me 'no' outright".
"That's not right".
"Damn straight it's not".
Izuku smiled grimly, feeling welcomed by the responses of his aunt and uncle, "Well, either way, he was furious when he found out, given that applying to Pro Hero courses meant that I had to write down 'not applicable' in the Quirk section. Then word got out that I'd also applied to a few universities already, because I'd already finished enough actual college courses, and he decided to go around bragging about his genius son".
"That doesn't sound so bad", Masaru offered, "he sounds proud?"
"Yeah well, his pride lasted until people started asking questions about why nobody knew he had a son, or why his son's family name was Midoriya instead of Hokisareta, I mean, Japan's 'big on the family thing', you know". He snorted, ignoring the worried glance that the couple shared opposite him, "From there, people kept asking him similar questions. Why haven't we met your son yet? How long's he been living with you? Why aren't you married? Why did your wife divorce you? Why does your son have a different name than you? Doesn't your son like you? Don't you find it embarrassing that your son doesn't use your name? Is your son ashamed of you?"
Mitsuki's nose wrinkled in disgust, "Let me guess, he didn't like some of those questions".
"I don't think he liked any of them", he chuckled bitterly, "anyway, after all that, he then tried to have my name changed without telling me-"
"That bastard", she snarled, and even the normally placid Masaru looked furious, nodding in agreement.
"-only he found that he couldn't, because Mom had already legally changed it once, back to Midoriya, and I was still registered as a Japanese citizen. When he found that in the file, the judge he was using just decided to call me directly. He wanted to hear what I had to say, so I told him that I preferred, and was a proud, to be a Midoriya-"
"Damn straight".
"-and that was the end of that. Word got out after that, you know, that I'd denied his name. He came home from work the next Friday and told me to pack a bag. He gave me all my documents, handed over all of mom's money, and had all of my stuff put into a storage unit. He paid ahead until my eighteenth birthday and told me to, 'get the fuck out', of his house. That was ten years ago. I haven't seen or spoken to him since".
"Okay", Masaru agreed, "but how do you go from that, to building a multi-million-dollar company?"
"Well, it's a long story, but the short version is, he kicked me out. After that, even the good universities that were interested in having me, just didn't seem worth it anymore, so I decided that I wanted to go travel instead. I hitchhiked and worked my way around the country, went to a lot of the places I'd always wanted to go, and met a lot of people along the way. I learned a lot about just things in general, and I saw so many Quirks", he dragged that last word out for fun, enjoying the way that the two of them chuckled, no doubt remembering the many questions he had once asked about theirs, and the many more pages of notes he'd then written about the two of them, "but so many people struggled with getting hold of decent support items to help them in their normal lives. They were either too expensive, because they were made by Pro Hero support companies, or they were poorly designed because they weren't for Pro Heroes to use", he shrugged, "so I fixed a few of them up, usually to help me make a quick bit of cash, and then I would send a complaint onto the manufacturers. Then word started getting around that I could help people, so people would show up looking for me", he shook his head, smiling at the memory, "I charged a few others for a bit more cash, made a nice profit, and then I would send a complaint to their manufacturers, again and again, until, eventually, one of the support companies messaged me back, told me to stop contacting them. They basically told me that, 'if I thought that I could do a better job, then why didn't I just make them myself'. By that point, I'd made a bit of money between my travels, the gear I'd been fixing, and the extra I'd made from investing mom's life insurance and whatever else she'd left me, so I decided to put my money where my mouth was. They were right, I said, I should just do it myself, so I did. I went out, rented myself a studio, bought some materials and I got started from there".
Masaru chuckled, "And look at you now".
Izuku smirked, "And look at me now".
Mitsuki smiled softly, reaching out to pat his hands, "Your mom would be so proud of you".
"Thank you", he told her, his smirk becoming a smile of his own, as he blinked away his watery eyes, "but I think that's enough about me for the moment. How is the wonderful world of fashion design going", he leant back, "oh, and do you happen to know someone who can design suits for a CEO who's probably going to have to do a lot of public appearances? Apparently, there's some new kind of new business moving into town", he pinched the rumpled jacket on the back of his chair, "I think they might only have a handful of cheap suits at the moment".
"Ah well", his uncle Masaru eyed him up speculatively, "I'm sure I know someone who can come up with something".
=== === === === ===
While his friend had enjoyed a relatively quiet morning spent on the train, off to visit his beloved mother, Rody's morning was much livelier, but then, with two siblings to look after, his mornings usually were.
He found himself awake before anyone else, and began his morning the only sensible way he knew how:
With a pot of black coffee.
The stronger and more resemblance it bore to the colour of fresh tar, the better.
By the time Roro had roused himself from his bed, stumbling into their kitchen with a yawn, and dressed only in a thin white t-shirt, slightly worn by age, and a pair of black pyjama shorts, the smell of fresh coffee had already filled the air and the first thing Roro did was pour himself a cup, immediately draining half of it in one long sip.
"Good morning to you too Sunshine".
"Ugh, mornings are evil", he hissed, clutching the coffee closer to his chest, "mornings after twelve-hour flights are even worse. Do we have any food?"
"Nope", Rody told him cheerfully, "why would we?"
"But…", Roro looked genuinely upset and it took all Rody had not to laugh, "food?"
"We arrived last night", Rody told him over the rim of his own mug, "when exactly where we supposed to go shopping? And for normal stuff at that".
"Normal stuff?"
"Most people in Japan eat rice, cold soup and pickled eels for breakfast", he hid his grin behind his coffee, as Roro's mouth fell open in a mixed expression of fear and utter disgust, "but I figured you'd probably want your bacon and eggs. I want my cereal, and Lala will want-"
"Pancakes", his brother finished for him.
"That's the one".
"Yet you and Mido thought ahead to make sure there was coffee?"
"Instant coffee", Rody corrected him, with only a slight grimace, "not nearly as good as the real thing", but then he shrugged, "what can I say, he planned ahead last time we were here".
Chuckling, Roro began to finish his coffee at a much more sedate pace, before Lala joined them, dressed similarly to her brother, in a long white t-shirt and black shorts. Though while Roro's hair, when he entered the kitchen, had been flat, the hair on the left side of Lala's head was sticking straight up, which not only looked ridiculous, (and hilarious to her brothers), but was made worse by her constant scratching, as Rody offered her a glass of milk.
She eyed him blearily as she took the glass, "Food?"
Her brothers just laughed.
=== === === === ===
Izuku had been kind enough to leave the rental car behind when he left on his personal sojourn that morning, which meant that Rody had full use of it until he returned that evening. Thankfully, Otheon and America, the countries where he and his best friend had learned to drive, (and eventually passed their tests), were two of the countries that had a conversion agreement in place with Japan, wherein, all they needed to do was pass an eyesight test, and Japan would issue them with a Japanese driving licence. Thankfully, Izuku had the foresight to have the two of them to take care of that on their last trip into the country. When Rody had arrived in his family's own apartment last night, he'd found it already waiting for him on the kitchen countertop.
He'd laughed to himself when he'd seen it, slipping it straight into his wallet.
Izuku felt that the only way to be prepared for anything, was to be prepared for everything.
In Rody's experience, however, it often paid off.
He piled his siblings into the car with him, with Roro sitting on the passenger seat beside him and Lala taking up the middle of the back seats, before they set about exploring the area that was their new home. They started with nearby streets, Lala reading him directions from her phone, as they set about cataloguing what they had on hand.
They found a Star-Yen less than two blocks from the entrance to DEKU Tower, and for Rody, it didn't matter how long it had been since breakfast, he ignored his siblings' complaints, parked up and went inside to order a coffee.
It was only when he felt he was suitably caffeinated that he returned to the car with breakfast sandwiches, text Izuku that he found the nearest coffee shop, dropped him a location pin, and received a 'thumbs up' emoji in response, that he bothered to drive off once again.
In short order, they found another coffee shop, (though this one appeared to be privately owned, rather than part of a national chain), a flower shop, a cigarette shop, (which he immediately banned both of his siblings from entering, Roro's complaints about his age be damned), as well as a chemist, a gym and almost a dozen small convenience stores.
It took them almost an hour of mindless driving around to find a supermarket, which would normally be a ten-minute drive from the tower, but even then, Rody felt that they needed more. The store had a lot of things that Rody would need on a daily basis, including milk and eggs, but it held mostly items that were either Japanese in flavour, or just in nature.
Yes, you were supposed to acclimate to your new home whenever you moved, but Rody was happy to lay the blame for this on the sensitivity of his weak, European palette.
The idea of eating eel for breakfast, (or any kind of fish at all), just felt wrong to him on so many levels. Rody had made himself a deal, Japan could keep their rice, soup and fish breakfasts for themselves, and in return, Rody had promised himself that he wouldn't share his bacon sandwiches with them.
That seemed fair to him.
The real reminder of his agreement was what came afterwards.
While Rody had Roro help him carry the bags, Lala was already hard at work on her new phone, tapping and swiping away, until she punched the air with a 'whoop!'.
"I found it!"
The 'it', she was referring to, was an international marketplace.
It was down near the docks, which made Rody uncomfortable, even as he slowly pulled into a nearby car park. The few dock areas he knew of Otheon were hotspots for crime and criminality, and that was from before he had met Izuku, who knew even more about what went on than mere rumours.
Still, it was barely midday by the time he arrived, and Izuku, (and a life growing up in poverty), had taught that crime preferred the cover of darkness than that of daylight, but despite knowing that, he still felt the worry in his nerves.
As fearless as she ever was, Lala leapt from the car, almost before he had finished parking and led them off in search of goodies.
Roro half-rushed to follow after her, while Rody made sure to lock the car, before following at a more sedate pace. The market itself was a mass of tented stall running down the length of a small street and included the buildings on either side. To the naked eye, it didn't look like much, but it seemed to have everything the siblings could want: European books, films and music, food prepared in the western styles, imported fruits and vegetables, what appeared to be a selection of designer clothing (which he didn't trust the brands on), a selection of sports shirts (which were almost entirely dedicated to NQ football), and one stall even just sold sweets.
Grinning around a mouthful of gummy bears, Rody let Roro and Lala lead him around.
They each picked up a new film for movie night, and Rody also grabbed a book on the history of flight. Roro managed to find himself the new football shirt for the Otheon National Team, while Lala debated on buying three separate handbags, but ultimately settled on neither, instead choosing to buy herself a new coat to replace her older one, which was honestly starting to look a little worn out.
They celebrated their first day in Japan with sushi for dinner.
Sushi on their first day in Japan felt like something a cliché, and Roro wasted no time in pointing that particular fact out to him, but it was a new experience for his brother and sister, and Rody found that he spent more time laughing at their reactions, which ranged from pleasantly surprised to the outright disgusted, than he did actually eating his own food.
He was still chuckling at Lala's reaction to the final piece Rody had ordered, which had actually been made with the eel he kept threatening them with. While Rody had already known that he didn't much care for it, he and Roro had both been surprised by how much the younger brother had enjoyed it.
Minutes after trying it for herself, Lala still looked like she wanted to throw up from the taste of it.
Rody and Roro were somewhere between giggles and chuckles, as they slid back into the car, Lala pouting and ignoring them, as she settled back into the backseat.
The drive back to DEKU Tower felt much easier than getting around the city had. They'd have plenty of time in the coming weeks, months and years to learn the layout of the city and all of the best ways to get around, but getting home wasn't too worrying when all you had to do to find your building was look up.
Izuku had texted him earlier, while they were eating, to let him know that he would be staying out for dinner with his mother's best friends, who had been known as his aunt and uncle when he was growing up, so Rody didn't need to worry about him, yet despite that, he still felt the need to check that Izuku wasn't using it as an excuse to sneak down to his new cave without telling him.
His friend loved helping people, but he also had the unhealthy habit of not knowing when to stop. It pushed him to be better, he knew, to work harder or move faster, but he also knew just how invested Izuku could get in his cases, working them long past the point of rationality, in his steadfast belief that every mystery could be solved, when in reality?
He was punishing himself for never solving his first one.
=== === === === ===
Bullshit laws about equipment meant that any kind of non-life support items needed to be registered and stored in allocated safe spaces, like registered hero agencies.
It was the law.
It was fucking annoying, is what was.
Every morning, Katsuki had to wake up, get dressed, brush his teeth and then drive over forty minutes, (at minimum), through the early morning Tokyo traffic, just so that he could reach the doors of his own agency, when in reality, it made so much more sense for him to be able to just store his gear at home, so that he could just start his patrol first thing in the morning.
Yet no matter how many times he had petitioned, complained and demanded that the Commission sign off on him using his gear the way he saw fit, they always refused.
Fucking politicians.
He was a graduate of Ultra Academy of Heroics, (better known as U.A.). In fact, he was one of the few to graduate as a member of U.A.'s "All Might-y" Class - the only class that had ever been taught by the greatest Pro Hero of all time.
Hell, their own homeroom teacher might have been a dick to them for three years, but the man's results spoke for themselves when they'd tried to name him the new principal, after the rodent had bitten the dust and wandered off to wherever rats went when they died.
Other than Ponytail, he'd been the first of their class to go solo, but unlike Rich Bitch, who'd given up on the job entirely, after less than a year, so that she could go play at being mom and businesswoman instead, he was still in the game, not even touching the prime of his career yet.
He'd graduated top of his class, first in the practical and second in the written, (beaten by Ponytail, as if second wasn't humiliating enough, it had been by the fucking coward who'd quit almost immediately). His complete and utter mastery of his Quirk, "Explosion", (the most badass Quirk out there), was obvious to anyone who spent even five minutes watching him in action.
Yet what had all that gotten him?
Twenty-Seventh.
What the fuck was that all about?
He had the most hours clocked out of any Pro Hero in Japan, and especially in Tokyo. He made more arrests solo than some teams had managed, and despite that, the HPSC didn't even have the fucking common courtesy to place him in the top ten.
Hell, he should've been the new Number One, but no. No, they put that smiling freakshow there instead, when all he could do was flash children by accident.
He should've been on a fucking register, not being named Japan's new Number One Pro Hero.
But no, he was Number One, and Katsuki had been relegated all the way down to Number Twenty-Seven.
He was young and strong, his work ethic put everyone else's to shame, and his Quirk made him unbeatable in combat. He was the perfect blend of All Might and Endeavor, their obvious combined successor to the Number One position. He'd interned under Endeavor and Best Jeanist while at U.A.
He should've been the obvious choice to follow.
Twenty-Seventh.
As if Freakshow McFuckface making it to Number One wasn't bad enough, that blue-haired bimbo making it to Number Four, and their shithouse swallowing sidekick making it to the Number Seven spot was just a slap in the face.
For fuck's sake, Birdfucker, Shitty Hair and Icy-Hot were all ranked above him, and so were a few of the losers that had been in Class B, though he could honestly remember fuck all about those useless idiots.
Twenty-Seventh.
Shitty-Hair wasn't a bad fighter, and Birdfucker and Icy-Hot had some decent power behind them, but that were nothing compared to him. They should've been steppingstones on his way to the top, like those irritating little pebbles you kicked down the side of the road, but instead, they were all ranked above him, and for the life of him, he didn't know why?
They were weak. So, what if they smiled at the camera, or shook hands at rallies and protests. He was out there, every possible minute doing the only aspect of his job that actually mattered:
Beating the bad guys.
He was doing what All Might would have done. Hell, he was the only one out there doing exactly what All Might would have done, yet everyone else seemed content to shit on the man's legacy. To let his constant display of dominance wither away and die, until everyone else had forgotten his name.
And the Ground Zero Hero: DynaMight, refused to let that happen.
Not on his watch.
"Urgh", he spied the blinking green light that told him he had a message, and he instantly knew who it was from.
All of his work calls went to his mobile phone, no exceptions. Only a handful of people in all of Japan had his number, and of those that did, of them, only two of them ever would ever bother leaving him a message, and of the two of them, only one of them ever did.
Chucking his jacket onto the hangar beside his door, Katsuki made his way over to the fridge, where he would find dinner, tapping to play button as he walked past the phone.
"Hi Kat, it's your mom calling-".
"Of course, it fucking is", he began unwrapping the chicken and egg salad that was waiting for him, "who else would it fucking be".
"-but don't worry, this isn't one of reminders to call more often, or to come visit-"
"I'm busy with work", he grumbled, as he tossed the wrapping in the trash.
"-because we both know you'll just say that you're too busy with work anyway-"
"Finally", he began rooting around in his drawers for a fork, "she and the old man can fucking learn".
"-you'll never guess who I ran into today?"
He shook his head, as he began spearing chicken onto his fork, "No, but you're going to tell me anyway, aren't you?"
"It was little Izuku!"
He choked around a mouthful of chicken.
"Well, I guess, 'little' doesn't really apply anymore. He's as tall as you are now, but he's back in Japan! I know his company's been all over the news lately, what with the opening of the new building and all, but still, it was a shock to see him all grown up, oh, your Aunt Inko would be so proud if she could see him now".
That last part wasn't so surprising, he knew, as he spat his chicken into the sink, clearing his throat. Aunt Inko had been a fucking pushover, who was proud of that pathetic nerd, no matter what he did. He could've become a damn night janitor, and she would've beamed at the thought of him cleaning up other people's shit.
"Anyways, I just thought I'd let you know he was back. You two should meet up, maybe go to lunch. You both used to be so close, it'd be good for you to catch up. He's not been back in Japan long, and goodness knows that you could certainly use more friends-"
More friends? He didn't need friends. He already knew too many people anyway, and worse, they were always trying to get him to stop doing his job. Like his becoming the new Number One Pro Hero didn't matter to them. Shitty Hair had even asked him out - on an actual date - as if that wouldn't take too long and be distracting. Had he hit his head? Didn't he remember the one girl he went out with in high school? Abar, or whatever her name was. They'd gone out and he'd lost his next sparring match against Icy-Hot. He'd known it would be too distracting, but that was all the proof he needed. He needed to devote one hundred percent of his time to his work and training, or it wouldn't matter at all.
"-ooh, I know, maybe you could get him to make you some new support gear? All of his stuff's supposed to be cutting edge, right?"
"Izuku doesn't make gear for Pro Heroes dear, just civilians".
"Oh. Nevermind that last part Brat, apparently he only does work for us normies".
As if any real pro would want that Quirkless freak getting his paws on their gear. He'd probably ruin it just by looking at it.
"He did want me to pass on his 'congratulations' though, for making it so high on the Billboard Charts-"
Who the fuck did that bastard think he was?
"-well, I'd just thought I'd let you know he was back. He's going to be living and working in Yokohama, so that's less than a half hour from Tokyo, just in case you get bored and decide to pay him a visit. If you do, tell him we said, 'Hello', and that he's welcome to visit any time. Okay? Love you! Bye!"
"Don't forget to tell him to call more oft-"
There was a 'click' and a 'beep' as the message ended, and his machine wiped it automatically.
Deku…
He hadn't thought of that creep in years until two years ago, when they announced that they were building a new skyscraper in Yokohama, right near the spot where All Might had died, for a company called DEKU Enterprises.
He'd tried not to think too much on it, surely that name was a coincidence, right? There had to be plenty of morons out there who'd use a name that dumb, but then, almost overnight, it seemed as if they were everywhere, with their bright green logo: in advertising, business news, legal debates and ethics discussions, and then, one day, he'd seen the photograph of the company's owners.
The big-titted blonde bimbo next to him didn't matter. No, it was the green haired bastard in the photo that took up all of his attention.
Deku… you bastard…
As if it wasn't bad enough that the Quirkless freak was back after all these years, he was coming back as if he thought that making himself rich would make up for not having a Quirk. Like he thought he mattered, or some shit like that. As though he could ever matter, being powerless, in a world were only those with power could ever matter.
Those like him.
And then, that bastard even had the gall to mock him? "Congratulations", for coming in twenty-seventh place, like he was some whiny little bitch that needed a participation trophy. It made sense that he'd do it over the phone; he'd know that he'd knock his teeth out for even thinking of trying to do it in person. Everyone knew that twenty-seventh place was just the twenty-sixth loser.
He hoped he'd run into Deku at some point.
It'd be good to remind that little bitch of his place.
=== === === === ===
Author's Notes:
The, as yet to be christened, Batcave, is located fifteen levels below DEKU Tower's sub-level twelve, which essentially makes it the building's sub-level twenty-seven, (though it will never be referred to as such), and then reaches down for an additional dozen levels, (all the way down to what can unofficially be referred to as sub-level thirty-nine). Batman first debuted in Detective Comics #27 in 1939.
The haka is a typical Japanese grave, usually a family grave, consisting of a stone monument, with a small place for flowers, incense, and water to be placed in front of the monument, with a chamber or crypt underneath for the ashes.
Gadfrey is the name I've given to the capital city of Otheon, and also the home city of the Soul Family. Once again, keeping with our Star Wars naming convention, this name comes from the character Gadfrey Oseon, who also happens to be who the Star Wars planet and the country gets its name from in-universe.
The family that took over the Midoriya Apartment is named after Takeo Oga, the founder and owner of Shueisha.
In Japanese culture, some flowers have vastly different meanings, some of which are displayed in this chapter:
Primroses mean desperation, (or eternal love in western culture). They're also very common flowers, and in-universe, Izuku used to use them to make flower crowns for Inko, whenever they visited the park together. As an adult, both meanings can also be applied to Izuku, as he is fuelled in part, by the love he holds for his mother, and the desperation he feels to become a man who will make her proud.
(We all know she'd be proud of him, no matter what).
Blue lilies are used to represent truth and calm energy. They can also be associated with stability in life, freedom of doing something, inspiration and positivity, as well as trustworthiness, reliability and accuracy of work. It's not hard to see the links between Inko's death and what has become of Izuku's life.
Sweet peas send the simple message of "Goodbye".
The bluebell is a flower that shares its meaning in both Japan and the West, representing the feelings of gratitude.
The white chrysanthemum is the final flower we see here and is used to represent the idea of truth and the feeling of grief, (generally used to represent death and grief, in western culture). These are extremely common flowers to be used in funerals and laid at gravesites, in both the east and the west hemispheres.