A foreign feeling

Izuku really doesn’t get it. He’s silently watching the endless ploughed fields and windmills, the rattling of the old van a minor distraction. He feels like he’s got power lines instead of nerves, his hands in his lap still twitching occasionally when he thinks about what Todoroki-kun told him on the phone. A criminal. A murderer. He, Midoriya Izuku, possessor of the noblest of quirks, whose essence is nothing but the salvation of others- He’s shaking. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible — if he hadn’t been so focused, he wouldn’t have noticed. He can’t banish the evil thoughts; images of people he cares about — his mother, All Might, his classmates — all of them, the moment they turn on the TV, will soon hear that he… His thoughts are cut short by a noise. It’s not loud at all, hardly noticeable: it blends in with the sounds of the street that fill the van through the open windows, harmonious and unobtrusive, and Izuku slowly turns his head. Rody is humming softly to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; his shoulders are relaxed for the first time since they met, and he looks like he was born and has spent his whole conscious life driving. Rody is the same age as Izuku — and Izuku has never driven a car in his life. He can’t even imagine where such a chance to sit in the driver’s seat would come from. Izuku’s eyes drift thoughtlessly down to his forearms, which are lean but have the strength to tighten a bandage that rivals that of his classmates. For some reason, the night before, full of revelations, reappears in his memory — and instead of the expected pain, he suddenly feels those hands on his exposed back again — confident, turning him in the right directions without a trace of doubt, but at the same time… cautious, almost weightless — experienced. Gentle. Thoughtful. Rody is much kinder than he tries to show — it’s just that this kindness is buried very deep, and it seems like it’s been a long time since anyone was able to pull it out of those depths. Izuku smiles faintly as he continues his semi-conscious journey — he had never been outside of Japan before his trip to I-I-Land with All Might, but even that doesn’t compare to what he sees here. Those odd features… the sharp nose, thin lips, and barely tanned skin — Rody wears very tight clothing, that must be the reason. The rest of the citizens of Otheon are much more tanned, and also- His eyes. Rody has… really beautiful eyes. They’re grey with a bluish tinge, always half-closed, as if he hasn’t needed anything from anyone for a long time — but in reality it’s just an elaborate facade. Izuku sneaks another look; a strange feeling of unease flares up in his chest — shame or embarrassment or something beyond that — he really doesn’t know. Grey eyes — so what? It’s not like Rody’s the first to have that colour. Not the first… not the- The van jumps over a bump and Izuku jerks up with a sharp hiss, the impact not strong but still tangible. He feels eyes on him and flushes as he rubs the back of his head; the throbbing never goes away and his cheeks burn with embarrassment — what a hero he is. The car slows down before coming to a full stop and Izuku’s head snaps up — he freezes as a hand reaches past him, and then these grey eyes are close — so close — and when they meet, Izuku suddenly stops breathing. Beautiful indeed. Rody does something to the seat belt over Izuku’s shoulder — a moment, and it becomes tighter than before. Rody returns to his original position, clears his throat and puts his hands back on the wheel — looking out of the window as he speaks: “Careful. Gonna knock your head off that way.” Izuku nods and stares down at his knees. As they set off, he is still aware of the ghost of a touch on his skin — and a brief shiver runs through his body. His head no longer seems to hurt. He startles out of his slumber with a sharp gasp — not quite realising where he is, he continues to see the policemen’s guns pointed at him, chanting loudly: “Criminal, murderer!” He blinks hard, but for some reason it only gets worse — his vision blurs, and blurs, and blurs, and Izuku turns his head away, wiping the stupid tears on his shoulder. It’s no use. It’s already happened — all that’s left is to fix it as soon as possible. He sniffles and turns around, glancing blankly at the road, and for a moment he believes he’s seen a glimpse of blue in the rear view mirror. The van slowly pulls to the side of the road and Izuku looks around nervously, not focusing on anything in particular. “Is something wrong?” he asks cautiously as his stomach tightens. “Can’t feel my ass from all the sitting,” Rody says as he slams the door shut; Izuku doesn’t immediately understand what was said and gasps belatedly: Rody’s english is fast and often not quite understandable to him. Izuku has never had so much contact with foreigners, after all. The wound in his chest makes itself felt again as he rolls off the seat with a grunt and straightens his clothes. For the first time since the beginning of their journey, Izuku decides to look around for real — and freezes. “Wow,” he mumbles in his native language, hearing an approving hum just above his ear and jerking his head in surprise. Rody is standing right next to him, arms crossed over his chest, looking relaxed at where Izuku’s glance had been a moment ago. He smiles at the corners of his lips — softly, almost unnoticeable, and Izuku involuntarily follows his gaze. Flowers. Bright, sparkling, magnificent, dazzling in their variety — endless seas, lingering, beckoning him to stretch out in the middle of the blossoms, oblivious to all that awaits beyond this quiet harbour. A gust of wind makes him clutch his panama — and with it, a soothing rustle envelops him from all sides. The leaves sway slowly, catching the rays of the sun, and he squints — but he can’t look away, won’t look away. He meets another set of eyes — the same harbour of boundless calm and confidence — and stares. Magnificent. And for the first time since they met, he sees something in return. For a fraction of a second, all that steadfastness falters and Izuku finally realizes that he’s not the only one… He’s not the only one who’s afraid. He’s not the only one with a head full of thoughts that make his legs tremble with helplessness, and he’s not the only one looking for something to hold onto in the midst of the chaos. Izuku feels a sudden urge to squeeze Rody’s shoulder. To make him feel, even if only for a short moment, the same confidence and peace that this stop had given Izuku. He holds back. He sighs deeply, calms himself and realizes his heart is beating too loudly and too fast. He takes a step back, embarrassed for some reason, but then smiles gratefully at Rody, hoping that he can understand Izuku’s thoughts without words. “It’s beautiful.” Rody nods, his eyes lingering on Izuku’s face before he looks away. “Yeah,” he answers inaudibly as the two of them look ahead together. Rody is very caring indeed. In fact, so much so that he uses the most unflattering words to express his care, and these are only the ones he knows how to translate. It’s not his fault that his foot slipped and he fell into the icy water of the river he was dragging the van across. But Rody just shakes his head and quickly undoes the bandage on his chest — and the contrast of his warm fingers on his cold skin makes Izuku flinch. Rody falls silent and looks worriedly into his eyes, his fingers frozen over the bandage. “Did I press too hard?” Izuku’s mind spins, desperately trying to translate what was said and deliver it to his brain — but the proximity of another pair of hands somehow disrupts the signal and he shakes his head sluggishly. Rody stops cussing and becomes even more cautious than before. Izuku can’t stand it anymore and closes his eyes in defeat while Rody tends to the soaked wound, mumbles something to himself and re-bands it. “You have to change your clothes. It’s cold at night and if you get sick there’s nothing we can do. We’ll hang your clothes in the back, they’ll dry quickly. But while you’re in your hero costume, try to keep your head out of the air — there are almost no people on this road, but we can’t take any chances.” All the while, Izuku watches the work of his hands — methodical, precise — and now it’s becoming impossible to convince himself that he’s imagining it. He wants to ask so much. So eager for Rody to tell him this story — why are you so good at it? But instead he just nods, exhaling sharply as Rody tightens the knot. The whole next day, he gets lots of scrutinising glances — Rody asks him how he feels, and Izuku assures him with a weak smile that he is doing fine. Pino, on the other hand, drives circles around his head and eventually settles there for good — and it’s unexpectedly uplifting. Especially now that Izuku knows what her concern means. Izuku doesn’t understand why he trusts Rody so much. He doesn’t understand, and at the same time he feels something on the edge of elation when he realizes that the feeling is mutual. They stop at a petrol station and Izuku trusts him to distract the owner. He pulls the van up a steep cliff with black whip, while Rody sits fearlessly inside, commanding his movements; the midday rain whips mercilessly overhead, and when they finally reach the rocky road, is replaced by a double rainbow, a sight so rare that even Rody can’t help smiling as he eases off the gas for a moment. They finally talk — with their difficulties, but they talk; they argue about the route and talk, they eat lunch with what they’ve managed to stock up on and talk; Rody complains about the dry food and has to change his words three times before Izuku finally understands him. They laugh — laugh despite the absurdity, or perhaps because of it. The sun sets over the mountains, illuminating the area with liquid gold — a beautiful, breathtaking view. They stand side by side, looking at the map and bantering about directions. Gold glitters in Rody’s eyes and Izuku loses the argument. The road turns out to be the right one. When the villains catch up with them before they reach their destination, Izuku isn’t surprised — and yet he doesn’t hold back his gritted teeth as he dodges with Rody on his shoulder. His chest hurts so badly he can’t breathe, the adrenaline pulsing through his blood, giving him strength, but not making him any less afraid. First arrow, second, third — and then huge iron bullets fly towards them, lifting debris the size of half a house. Rody is clutching him in a deadly grip and Izuku is so afraid to make a mistake. One wrong move and they’ll both pay with their lives: the lives of millions of innocents. He’s dying. Death seems to feel like this — the moment he sees Rody falling off the cliff and throwing the case at him, something inside him shatters. He won’t make it in time: another arrow drives him in the opposite direction, and he can’t, can’t reach… Todoroki-kun saves the day and snatches Izuku’s soul out of the air, forcing it back into place: Rody is in front of him, almost unharmed and alive, and Izuku is on the verge of tears, looking him over and not caring about what’s going on around him. But there’s no time for that: every minute counts. Rody… is amazing. He solves the puzzle in a few moves, gives them the key to save humanity — and then fearlessly takes them to their destination; as they part ways, Izuku can’t escape the feeling of the profound wrongness of this act. “Wait a little longer,” he thinks as he jumps out of the plane, “the next time we meet, the danger will surely be over — and all thanks to you”. Everything is swimming before his eyes. Each blow comes back at him as if amplified a thousand times — or perhaps it’s the strength that has left him already. The image of Flect Turn standing in front of him gradually blurs, blackening in the periphery. Swaying, Izuku falls — and the fall seems to be endless, eternal… and then it stops abruptly. Someone catches him — gently, and so strangely familiar. “It’s all right now, Deku.” No. “Rody? It’s- it’s dangerous, go away…” Rody’s hand slips into his pocket. “I will, as soon as I give them this.” No. Rody gently lowers him to the floor. “I’ve been told that if I do this, they’ll stop the explosion in Otheon.” “R-Rody, no. We’ll definitely stop everything, just like…” he falls face down, losing the rest of his strength. “How are you going to stop everything in your condition?” Rody’s voice is… calm. Resigned — one that has accepted the circumstances. Izuku clenches his fists and feels tears of helplessness well up in his eyes. It hurts to move. Blood has soaked through his clothes and its sickening odour is one of the few things that keeps him conscious. “Deku,” Rody’s steps are measured, almost deafening in the silence of the hall, “I’m just a petty criminal. I can’t be a hero like you and save everyone. The world or my family. If there’s only one choice, I have to make it.” It sounds like a testimony. It sounds like doom. “It was the same with my father… wasn’t it?” A memory of the last few hours flashes through his clouded mind: the look in Rody’s eyes as he stared at the screen. “Take this bomb-disarming key that my colleague, Eddie Soul, also kidnapped, obtained at the cost of his life.” “You’re just like your father. You made the right choice to save your loved ones. And so am I,” Flect Turn’s voice could have been mocking, but the truth is that he believes every word he says. “Rody, don’t! Rody!” “It’s time to surrender, hero,” Rody’s voice is as empty and lifeless as the hole in Izuku’s chest. “That’s how people betray each other. It happened to me too… all the time. No use to cry and shout.” He’s looking for strength. He’s looking for resentment, anger, the pain of betrayal. He’s desperate for something to get him back on his feet. But the moment Rody is one step away from the Flect Turn, Izuku is suddenly shaken by a crystal clear thought. Even if Rody hands over the key now, Izuku won’t be able to hate him. Not ever. “Rody…” …and then Pino looks out of his hood and shakes her head, and Izuku gets a second breath. “You won’t laugh, will you?” “I won’t!” “Promise?” “I promise!” “Fine. My quirk is…” His legs don’t want to move. Izuku can only see a pool of blood in front of him, a huge, almost black puddle of blood that is slowly spreading over the stone floor. He falls to his knees beside Rody, feeling nauseous and cold with fear — he doesn’t know where the blood is coming from, he doesn’t know how to stop it, he doesn’t know how much Rody had lost before he reached the main hall — all he sees is his scratched, pale — so pale — face and his clouded, half-closed eyes. He rests his head in his lap, trying to force his hands to stop shaking — so that Rody won’t worry. So that Rody won’t think about whether he will ever see his brother and sister again, so that Rody… But Rody is smiling. They hold each other with warm, blood-slicked hands and laugh as tears stream down their cheeks — two heroes that have saved each other and the whole world. And as they wait, exhausted, for someone to find them, Izuku lightly brushes the dirt from Rody’s cheekbone — he’s lost so much blood that he hardly seems to be aware of what’s going on around him — but he closes his eyes, smiling, and Izuku desperately wants to wipe away the blood under his lip. Izuku still doesn’t get it. Rody is standing wobbly, clutching his crutch tightly — not looking at him, but to somewhere behind him, over his shoulder, while he says all those words that sound so insanely wrong. “Stay in Japan, okay?” “Too much trouble where you end up.” Maybe it’s true. Maybe Izuku just doesn’t want to hear it — because the truth in his reality is so seldom something good, something desirable — he himself is so seldom something… “Stay in Japan, okay?” He came. “Too much trouble where you end up.” He’s wounded and weak, and he came to see you off anyway. But… Pino. Why does Pino look exactly like Izuku feels inside, then? And once again that strange, foolish urge — once again the urge to reach out, to touch — the last chance, the last attempt to sate that frightening, unknown thirst. He feels terrified. But why now, after saving the whole world, two steps away from returning home, is he so terribly afraid? The boarding for their flight is about to end, and the announcement makes him break out in a cold sweat. He can’t wait any longer. Kacchan shouts something at his back, urging him on, it’s time to move, and… so he does. He steps forward, wrapping his arms around stiff shoulders, clumsily but gently, and hears the crutch fall to the ground. And then he is being hugged back — and all fear disappears in an instant, and the very fact of its former existence seems so absurd. And Izuku suddenly feels calm. Very calm and very good — so good that everything inside him trembles and he realizes that he doesn’t want to let go — what a foolish thought. “I’ll definitely come back,” he whispers, smiling, feeling his eyes burn dangerously. Rody shakes his head and grips him tighter for a moment — and Izuku wishes this moment would last forever. But they have far less than eternity in reserve. Reluctantly, Izuku steps back and quickly picks up the crutch and hands it back to Rody. They don’t look into each other’s eyes — for now, they’ve both said and done everything they need to. Yeah, that’s probably the point — and not because their faces feel like they’ve been doused with liquid flame. When Izuku catches up with the others on the excavator, he turns around — and they look at each other for a long time. Before they finally break contact, Pino does a farewell hook in the air — and Izuku laughs, while Todoroki-kun looks in the same direction in a perplexed way and Kacchan rolls his eyes in something resembling disgust.

***

They return to the dorms exhausted and half-alive — Aizawa-sensei spared no one in today’s training. Izuku unconsciously reaches for the bruise on his cheek — he’d been distracted in the middle of the fight and Kacchan’s boot hadn’t broken him anything only by sheer luck. It was just that at some point, when Kacchan was high in the air, preparing to strike, Izuku’s gaze shifted behind his back and a familiar image hit him with a stunning flashback. It was as if he was seeing the sky through someone else’s eyes — and he was so caught up in it that he almost didn’t feel the impact — only coming to his senses when Kacchan grabbed him by the clothes, lifted him off the ground, called him mean names and dragged him towards the medical wing. He can’t feel his arms or legs, and doesn’t even have the strength to take a shower. Instead, he is drawn to the balcony — and without undressing, he walks across the room and swings open the door. The wind chills the wet back of his neck and Izuku sighs heavily — his heart feels like it’s out of place again. It’s a feeling he’s had since his return from Otheon, and it’s been a full month already. He looks up at the few clouds drifting lazily into the distance, and it makes him feel so good, and so awfully sad. He’s disturbed from his contemplation by a chime from his pocket — probably one of his friends asking how he’s doing. He reluctantly pulls out his phone and opens the message; he squints, trying to make sense of it, and then suddenly stops breathing. The message turns out to be a picture. An unfamiliar number, no identifying marks — just a photo of a clear, cloudless sky and an airplane in the distance. Forgetting the pain, Izuku crumples the T-shirt over his chest, clenches his teeth and stares up at the sky, clear and clean; blinks, feeling the all-too-familiar burning sensation; blinks again, but sees something other than the sky. A flash of grey with a tinge of blue, and his heart is beating so fast again, and… Oh. Seems like he’s finally got it.