Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"...And thank you for tuning in to NHK Radio 1. Here with us today, we have Anteverse Relations expert, Nezu, from the PPDC international research team and k-science department. Nezu-san, Forgive me for cutting straight to the point, but in the wake of the latest Kaiju attack on Auckland, can you tell us anything about the aftermath of this horrific event?"

"It's a difficult situation. Without its own base for storing Jaegers, Auckland was forced to wait for backup to arrive from Sydney, and in that time massive damage was sustained. New Zealand hasn't seen destruction on this scale since the Christchurch earthquakes over a decade ago, and on top of that, thousands of lives have been lost."

"I see. And how does the Pan Pacific Defense Corps view this event? in what directions does the PPDC hope to take its response efforts in the coming months?"

"The PPDC finds it highly concerning that a Kaiju made its way so far down south - this is something we hadn't anticipated happening so soon. As we speak, my department is re-analyzing the Kaiju behavioral patterns in order to better respond to attacks in the future."

"That sounds promising! Any breakthroughs on that front?"

"Well... I'll be blunt. I don't have good news for you. The frequency and strength of Kaiju assaults are increasing at an exponential rate. One thing is clear: they are not going to stop. Humanity is going to need new and inventive ways to combat this threat if it hopes for any chance of survival."

"I assume it's safe to say, then, that you continue to be a vocal supporter of the Jaeger Program. What's your response to the recent complaints that the Jaeger program is no longer a viable option for defense against the increasing Kaiju threat?"

"The most pressing problem the Jaeger program faces currently is a lack of competent pilots. The loss of the Symbol of Peace shocked the world when the Toshinori/Todoroki team was forced to retire due to injuries a few years ago, and since then recruitment rates for the Jaeger program have been steadily dropping. I'm sure the recent death of young pilot Yaoyorozu is also fresh in everyone's minds. But I implore you listeners - the Jaeger program needs you. The fate of the world is in your hands. If you have Drift Compatibility, please sign up for the Jaeger program at your local-"

With bleary eyes, Midoriya pats his bedside table until he finds the off switch for his radio alarm, and Nezu's voice cuts off abruptly with the hiss and squeak of poor reception. With a groan, Midoriya rolls himself out of bed and stumbles his way over to the wardrobe.

Early morning light filters through the porthole window of his solitary bunk, illuminating the dust motes suspended in the air. It's a cramped room, but it does the job just fine. With any luck, Midoriya won't be staying here much longer anyway. He rifles through the various uniforms hung up on the clothes rack on autopilot, picking out the dark green coveralls issued to him by the organization. Emblazoned on the back reads;

Oh. The memory comes rushing back, and all of a sudden, Midoriya isn't tired any more. He pauses in his movements. It hadn't seemed real, until now. Today, I could graduate. By tomorrow, I could be a Jaeger Pilot.

It's a terrifying feeling, Midoriya thinks, to be standing on the precipice of your own future. Terrifying, and exhilarating. There's the fear of the fall - the fear of crashing and burning, of taking a leap of faith off that cliff edge and finding that everything you built for yourself crumbles away like dreams and ashes in the wind. It feels safer sometimes to step back. The more you think, the more it feels impossible, that this could end in anything but broken bones and bruised hearts and ruin. That's what falling does to you.

But maybe you don't fall. Maybe you take that final step and it's everything you dreamed it would be. Maybe - just maybe - you fly.

Midoriya shrugs on the coveralls. He wears that logo on his back with pride, standing straight and tall and true. He steels himself, and steps outside his door.

Today is an important day.

The cafeteria is crowded for breakfast, but as always, Midoriya is sitting by himself.

The days when they are served miso, rice and grilled fish are his favourites. It brings to mind memories warm and soft, of countless lazy mornings and quiet laughter with his mother at an old dining table, over a meal prepared with care by someone who loves him.

Today, though, Midoriya barely tastes it as he picks away at his food, an anticipation akin to nausea swirling in his stomach. His focus drifts to pilots that save tens of thousands of people with a smile. To glorious suits of armour standing hundreds of feet tall, shining beacons of hope and peace. Jaegers fighting hand to hand with monstrous beasts from another realm that rise out of the ocean depths. Midoriya can't shake the feeling that the finish line is right there, if he could just -

"Attention, cadets!"

There's a universal clatter of cutlery and scrape of chairs across the floor as everyone rises immediately to stand at the Fightmaster's call. After months, even years, of training here, the cadets have at least learnt one thing: Gran Torino is not to be trifled with. An expectant hush falls over the room, crackling with barely constrained energy.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you that a veteran Jaeger pilot will be gracing you all with his presence today. Todoroki Shouto is in need of a new co-pilot, and he will be visiting these barracks in order to trial each and every one of you candidates for Drift Compatibility with him. If you can match this ranger in a duel, you can match him out at sea. You can call his Jaeger your own. You're all aware of the gravity of this moment."

Silence meets his words, but a shiver of determination runs through the crowd. No one wants to lose today.

"Todoroki-san has already arrived, and he's waiting for you. Cadet corp 1-A, report to the kwoon combat room immediately. Corp 1-B, your candidate trials begin at 0800 hours, sharp. Don't be late. That is all."

Fightmaster Torino turns his back and walks out of the dining hall. Midoriya's heart pounds in his chest, eyes widening. Hold on - now? We have to go right after breakfast? It's too soon - I wanted more time to prepare myself -

The room explodes into noise. Plates and meals are left forgotten as cadets from 1-A scramble to the kwoon room. Conversation swells and rumours fly in their wake as those remaining gossip wildly about the news.

"Can you imagine being a pilot by tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure if I even want him as a partner. He's too scary."

"He's obviously got baggage. I mean, have you heard about his face?"

"You know his last partner died fighting in a Jaeger with him? Rather recently, too. That's how he got that ugly scar, and why he's looking for a partner from cadets. They couldn't find anyone else for him."

"I couldn't trust someone like that with my life - one wrong move and I'd be the next dead pilot- "

"Personally, I'd prefer a lady, like his old partner. It's a shame she was the one who died instead of him-"

“Hey, you shouldn’t-” Midoriya’s mouth moves before he can think.

Monoma turns around, sharp eyes seeking out Midoriya. “Got a problem with what I said?”

Midoriya look down, curling in on himself, suddenly conscious of drawing attention. What was I thinking? “I mean - I just thought - you shouldn’t talk about them… like… that…” His voice shrinks with each word. He swallows. “Yaoyorozu gave her life to save all of Tokyo. And - and Todoroki is the only Ranger to ever single-handedly pilot a Jaeger and make it back to shore alive. They are… they were amazing. You shouldn’t talk about them like that.”

Monoma only blinks, and for one glorious moment, Midoriya thinks Monoma is finally listening to him, for once. It doesn’t last. "You sure know a lot, fan boy." Monoma's smirk is infuriating and humiliating simultaneously. "Don't you think you'd be better suited to staying home and blogging about your Pilot crushes? After all, you don't have drift compatibility. No-one makes it into a Jaeger just by acing the theory exam. Stop wasting space and let the rest of us do our work."

Midoriya has nothing to say to that. He never does. You don't have drift compatibility. The words sink into his skin and he's speechless, old demons clawing at his throat. Monoma steps into his personal space, towering over him with a knowing smirk.

"Tell me, how does it feel, knowing this is your last day at the academy? Bet you're excited to be kicked out. Didn't they say if you fail today, the higher ups are gonna drop you from the course? The Jaeger program doesn't have the resources to waste on someone who can't even form a neural connection. You think you're hot shit, but you were forced out of 1-A because you couldn't cut it in the ring with any of them, and it's the same story here in 1-B. Honestly, it's pretty pathetic attention-seeking. I can't wait to see a veteran Ranger knock you down a peg or two-"

"Monoma, cut it out. You’re going too far, there's no need to be so cruel." Itsuka Kendou rolls her eyes from a nearby table, brushing a strand of long ginger hair away from her face. "Don't worry about it, Midoriya. There's tons of important behind-the-scenes careers you could choose instead that are all worthwhile. Jaeger technicians are invaluable to the process, you know. And I bet you could be Fightmaster of the kwoon room in no time!" She smiles at him, and Midoriya knows she's just trying to be nice. He knows. But her smile is soaked in pity, and Midoriya feels tears gather in his eyes. God, it feels so belittling. Humiliating.

"Now you-" Kendou continues sharply, pointing a finger at Monoma, "need to stop picking on others. Focus on your own preparations."

Monoma smiles at him, but there's no mirth in it. He directs his attention is elsewhere again, and the two of them walk off. Midoriya is left, standing there alone, struggling to swallow around the lump in his throat. His lip wobbles. But I don't want to just fix Jaegers. I don't want to train new pilots. I want to be a Ranger. He bites his lip, desperation coursing through him like a siren song.

He'll show them. He has to.

From the sidelines, Midoriya watches.

The candidate trials continue in the centre of the room, ferocious, intense, almost unfair. They were promised a spot in his Jaeger if they could best this man. But no cadet could truly stand a chance against a seasoned veteran, no matter how hard they train. At the very least, no one in Midoriya's class seems able to.

Still, Midoriya's analytical mind works in overdrive as he takes in every detail of the fight ongoing. Kendou is no doubt one of the most talented students here, but even then she pales in comparison to the Jaeger pilot she fights - Todoroki Shouto. A legend. Here, in the flesh. That fact alone is a lot for Midoriya to take in. The skill behind his status shows in every calculated strike of the wooden staff in his hands. Todoroki seems more predator than human - he moves with a languid grace, radiating strength and power, picking the cadets off one by one. It's almost hypnotic to watch. Midoriya sighs softly, caught up in the beauty of Todoroki's moves. He fights like it's a dance. Like it's poetry in the making.

He seems younger in person. Midoriya always assumed that Todoroki was quite a few years older than him. The haunted gaze of someone who's seen battle - who's seen death - ages him on camera, but here in person he looks about the same age as all the cadets. To have so many years of service under his belt already - he must have really been a prodigy if he could make it as a pilot from such a young age...

Midoriya shakes his head and renews his concentration. As amazing as it is to be in the presence of such a legendary ranger, Midoriya isn't here to admire. He's here to win. He focuses in on the battle at hand, eyes glancing from face to contact point to footwork and back again as he deconstructs each move and countermove. He catalogs everything he can. Todoroki raises his staff with two hands to block a surprise overhead strike - he's too quick to catch off guard, even with an opening. He shoves against Kendou's staff to make her stumble - Todoroki prefers to fight using his opponent's own momentum against them, turning their strategy in his favour. He tosses his staff from the left hand to the right and jabs at her side to unbalance her - his ambidexterity is an asset that he takes frequent advantage of to catch others off guard. Kendou wobbles, overcompensating, and he pounces on the opportunity. With a heavy thud, yet another hopeful cadet slams into the ground, and not a second later, Todoroki's staff is hovering centimetres from her face.

"That's four-zero." Todoroki seems impassive in his victory. He remains for a moment, staring her down with an icy intensity that lingers a second too long after the end of their fight, before looking away and straightening up. Whatever he's looking for, he hasn't found it in her. Kendou picks herself up off the ground, cheeks red and eyes indignant as she rejoins her friends. A pang of sympathy flashes through Midoriya, even as his growing concern for his own chances increases. Kendou had at least tried to be nice to him.

The low buzz of conversation continues on, and Kendou fits herself seamlessly into it. Classmates are grouped casually up the back against the concrete walls, and as Midoriya looks around at the group, frustration swells. You're sabotaging yourselves by ignoring these matches. Todoroki's amazing, and there's so much to learn here by watching him, if only you'd pay attention. How can you not see it?

Todoroki pays them no mind. "Next," he calls flatly, scanning the crowd for an opponent of worth. For a few uncomfortable moments, no one steps forward. The cadets glance among each other. So far, not a single person has been able to score even one point against him. What is it about Todoroki? His speed? His unpredictability? His experience? Midoriya can't pinpoint what sets him apart. He knows his classmates are better than this - he's seen it with his own eyes. Why are they failing now, of all times? Are the nerves getting to them?

Oh, boy. Let's not think about nerves. The serpent coil in Midoriya's stomach winds itself tighter, the cage around his chest ever constricting. You understand the gravity of this moment, right? They're not going to give you another chance after this. His thoughts chase their own tail in his mind, around and around in pointless circles. He should duel Todoroki next. He has to get this over with, has to prove to everyone that he is, in fact, drift compatible. He should-

With a harsh glare from Fightmaster Torino, Monoma raises a shaky hand. Midoriya's missed his chance again. Todoroki levels his gaze at Monoma, who shrinks back under its weight. But he recovers, stepping out with a fierce purpose. The weight of the wooden staff sits comfortably in his hands, like it belongs there. This is an important day for everyone - this is their golden ticket, their free pass to becoming a real Jaeger pilot. All they have to do is impress Todoroki. Nobody's going to let that chance slip away without fighting for it with everything they've got.

"Four strikes marks a win." From the corner of the room, the Fightmaster lists the rules like he's said them a thousand times before. There is no ceremony, no preamble. The moment Monoma drops into a fighting stance, they begin. Hollow clacks of staff on staff fill the air in rapid succession. And looking on from the edge of the crowd, Midoriya can already tell. There's nothing there. No fire, not even a spark. If the look of distaste on Master Torino's face didn't say that, Todoroki's expression shouted it to anyone who cared to listen. He was all ice.

...But perhaps not entirely unreadable. It was the little things that gave Todoroki's next move away - a glance at a weak spot, a shift of his weight from one foot to another, an impatient twitch of a finger moments before he tosses the staff from one hand to another -

Watch out - he may favour his right, but Todoroki's ambidextrous -

With an expert twirl and the ease of a seasoned veteran, Todoroki sweeps the staff low from the left, and faster than Midoriya can follow, knocks the feet of the cadet out from underneath him. Midoriya winces at the impact, barely softened by the padded floor of the arena.

"One-zero," Todoroki calls the score. There's a murmur of whispered dissent from the class.

Midoriya's fingers tighten around the spine of the notebook in his hands, and he can't hold back any longer. He flips it open, fingers leafing through familiar entries until he finds a page that's free, and immediately begins scribbling down everything he can remember from what he's seen today. His speed, his power, his agility, dexterity, strategy - Todoroki really is an amazing fighter.

"He seems to like using the staff up close and personal to distract his opponent, then striking when they inevitably flinch," Midoriya mumbles to himself as he continues to jot down notes. "If you could block it before he gets into a rhythm, you might be able to force him to go on the defensive..."

There's a grunt of pain, a call of four-zero, and Midoriya's attention snaps back to the fight at hand. Monoma is bested and on the ground, features twisted in frustration. He thought he'd last longer. Thought he was some kind of big shot in the making. Perhaps it's not insult seeded into his features, but shame -

Todoroki's not looking at Monoma. He's staring right at Midoriya.

Midoriya's breath catches in his chest, suddenly. His heartbeat quickens under the weight of it. Todoroki's eye is so, so blue. There's something there in that face. Something beyond that frigid exterior-

Before Midoriya can pinpoint it, Todoroki glances away. A fleeting moment. Inconsequential. Midoriya etches every detail of it into his memory.

"Four-zero," Todoroki steps back, the staff still in his hand. "Is that everyone." It doesn't sound like a question. His eyes flit back to Midoriya, just for a second.

Monoma calls out from the back of the room, slouched against the wall with his arms crossed. "...Yes, I think we've covered all the eligible candidates-"

"Quiet, cadet."

Master Torino's voice is not loud. And yet it carries across the room easily, propelled by the weighty momentum of the knowledge that this is a man who can make good on his threats. The murmurs of conversation around the room wither and dry up. "You would do well to remember who is in charge here." He levels a glare at Monoma from across the floor, and Monoma stands to attention, posture straightening, presence shrinking. He says nothing. The Fightmaster turns his attention to Midoriya. "Do your best, my boy. Four strikes marks a win."

Midoriya swallows. He nods. He steps out into the centre of the room with his head held high, his hands shaking. They're not going to give you another chance after this.

His classmates snicker behind him - there aren't many others in this room rooting for his success. For once, it doesn't matter. He takes the staff from Monoma with a nod in his direction. The wood is well-balanced and smooth in his hand, worn down by hundreds of cadets who came before him. Most of them didn't make it into a Jaeger, and the rest don't make it out of one - their time in the program cut short, their dreams and aspirations a severed red thread blowing in the breeze. That thought isn't comforting, but the weight and the feel of the staff in his hands is. This, he's familiar with. Midoriya has spent countless hours here in this room, spent countless sleepless nights drilling and training under the watchful eye of the Kwon Room Master. There are people who believe in Midoriya, people who have helped him become the person he is right now. He cannot let them down. He takes a deep breath, lets the weapon's weight and balance ground him. Then he turns to face Todoroki.

Todoroki doesn't hesitate. He lunges forward, back end of the staff pointed straight at Midoriya's chest. Midoriya sucks in a sharp breath, leaps to the side to avoid the blow. Before he can blink, Todoroki follows the motion through, the end of the staff soaring in a wide arc -

A harsh pressure thumps against Midoriya's side. The staff is levelled against Midoriya's waist.

...How, exactly, did that happen?

Todoroki steps back and settles into a resting fighting stance. "One-zero." His voice is cool and composed and everything that Midoriya wishes he could be right now. Heart pounding, Midoriya furiously retraces the past few seconds, struggling to pinpoint the exact moment Todoroki changed his footwork, altered the curving path of the staff. The phantom echo of the weapon's presence raises the hair on the skin of his waist. His blood feels like it's on fire.

Todoroki stares at him, one eyebrow quirked. With a sudden start, Midoriya realizes he's been spacing out. There's no room for that, not in a real fight. He drops centre of gravity and mirror's Todoroki's stance, feet apart and muscles tensed. Focus, now.

They start slower this time. Todoroki's staff lacks the speed he's made a point of demonstrating throughout his earlier fights, and yet it's everywhere at once - painting figures of eight through the air that surrounds them, flicking by Midoriya's ear, sweeping across his field of vision, always in motion. Hyper-aware of its presence, it's all Midoriya can do to avoid flinching and blinking as Todoroki steps forward, invading his personal space. Midoriya recognizes it as the strategy Todoroki has used effectively on the majority of the cadets so far.

He knows it - it should be easy to counter. And yet. It feels so different from watching at the sidelines, to be on the receiving end of his lyrical, flowing moves. It's one thing to stand at a distance and analyse the swift course of a fierce river. It's another thing entirely to be swept up in the current, up close and personal as it tumbles over the edge of a waterfall in a thunderous crash.

Between the flashing twirl of the staff, Midoriya catches a glimpse of Todoroki's eyes - narrowed in concentration, focused on Midoriya's performance. Analysing his every move. Suddenly over-aware of the fact that he’s being assessed, Midoriya stumbles over his own feet in an effort to escape the trap Todoroki has set. In that instant Todoroki lashes out, blindingly fast.

Midoriya crashes to the floor, the ache of impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Todoroki wastes no time in delivering the point-claiming blow with the surety of a snake, striking with speed and power, knowing his prey is cornered. "Two-zero."

Midoriya doesn't wait to scramble to his feet and ready himself again. No. No. This will not be the end, not after how hard he's worked. This time he's the one to strike first - with a leap and a cry of frustration Midoriya swings the staff high over his head, only for Todoroki to seamlessly sidestep his obvious attack. Todoroki moves in, beginning once again that deadly dance, the staff flicking everywhere at once. It's confusing, and Todoroki knows it. Midoriya grips the centre of his staff, tries to block the incoming strikes - but it's a feint, and Todoroki snakes in with a narrow jab to the chest, sending Midoriya to the floor once again with a heavy whump that knocks the breath out of him.

"Three-zero." Todoroki looks almost bored as he waits for Midoriya, winded, to get back on his feet. Midoriya coughs and splutters, rolling over. His chest aches. His arms ache from holding the staff up. Everything aches. Frustration keeps him on the floor, and he blinks rapidly, fighting back hot and embarrassing tears. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

This isn't how it’s going to go. It can't be.

Midoriya glares up at Todoroki from the floor. He meets that icy gaze with his own furious fire, and he picks himself up off the ground with screaming muscles. Think, think... what are the options. What can I do?

He's not going to give me time to think -

Todoroki moves in with a quick strike, but Midoriya jumps to the side. I'm not going to let you touch me. He evades the next strike, and the next, until he's at Todoroki's side. He swings the staff in a concentrated blow. But before it can make contact, Todoroki blocks with a sweeping strike that guides Midoriya's move into thin air. Midoriya overbalances, falling to the floor, and a hot flare of panic shoots through him, move with it, he rolls over his shoulder and he's back on his feet in a few seconds.

He whirls around to face his opponent. They're both breathing hard, sweat beading on Todoroki's forehead. Midoriya bites his lip, searching for an opening, but Todoroki's on guard. It's unlikely someone like him will have a weak spot just lying around in the open.

So Midoriya will create one.

He steps in, crowding Todoroki's personal space, moving his staff in figures of eight, using weight and momentum to make his patterns unpredictable. It's a crude bastardization of Todoroki's own move, and Midoriya doesn't miss the flicker in Todoroki's expression when he realizes - but it works. It's impossible not to flinch when something is moving so fast, so close to your face, and Todoroki takes and uncertain step back, eyes flicking to the side.

If I could just score one point -

Todoroki drops to the floor. Shocked, Midoriya takes a step back, but it's already too late. Suddenly, the staff is in his other hand. Todoroki weaves his staff behind Midoriya's knee, and Midoriya trips back into it. Todoroki heaves upward, throwing his whole body into the motion, and Midoriya feels himself somersaulting. The world spins, and suddenly he's on his back -

Todoroki's staff hovers in front of his eyes.

Midoriya has lost.

Somehow, it doesn't feel real. Like it hasn't hit him yet. I lost, I lost, he repeats it in his head like a mantra, and Midoriya thought he'd feel something but all he can muster is shock and a faint, tired disbelief. Todoroki doesn't move. He says there, silent, searching Midoriya's face for... something. Their eyes lock, and Midoriya finds himself frozen under Todoroki's gaze. Pressure builds in his chest. Todoroki's eye is so, so blue. Blue like Kaiju blood. And up close, his scar is terrifying. A worm of unease wrinkles its way through Midoriya's heart at the sight of the twisted and marred flesh. Midoriya's heart thuds in his chest. He can't tell if it's from the exertion, or the intensity of that stare.

Todoroki looks away. He steps back. Suddenly, he seems very, very tired. "Four-zero," he calls, ancient and world-weary.

Whatever he's looking for, he hasn't found it in Midoriya.

Midoriya can feel everyone's eyes on him. Everyone's eyes, except the one person who mattered. Midoriya doesn't wait for someone to console him. He doesn't wait for Gran Torino to call the next cadet. He doesn't wait to see Todoroki's dismissal. Doesn't wait for the taunts and jeers of his classmates. He gets up off his feet, strides to the door. He shoves through a group of cadets bunched roughly at the exit, ignoring their affronted looks and the tears that spill down his own cheeks. He walks away, and he doesn't look back.

The shame burns through him.

Midoriya's room is dark. He lies fat on the bed, unmoving, staring up at the blank ceiling. Midoriya's not sure how much time has passed, but he supposes it must be night now. The day was dry and tasteless; he barely paid attention in class, and he skipped his workout routine, and he wallowed in misery, and he indulged the whims of every inner demon that told him he was never good enough, he was never going to be good enough.

It's been painful.

Broken bones and bruised hearts and ruin. That what falling does to you, and that's who Midoriya is right now. He was a fool to think he ever had a chance of soaring.

But you knew, didn't you? You knew. That's why you were fighting so hard.

It doesn't matter any more. That what he tries to tell himself, but each time he repeats it, misery further cements itself in his mind.

He can't get Monoma's words out of his head. Tell me, how does it feel, knowing this is your last day in the academy? bet you're excited to get kicked out.

The Jaeger program doesn't have the resources to waste on someone who can't even form a neural connection.

I can't wait to see a veteran knock you down a peg or two.

Midoriya groans into his pillow. This is ridiculous, he's being pathetic and melodramatic and childish and hollow and it doesn't matter any more. It doesn't.

He'll be gone by the end of the week. He needs to start thinking about what to do - see his mother, pick up the pieces of his shattered spirit, maybe set a goal that's actually realistic -

Honestly, it's pretty pathetic attention seeking.

With a yell of frustration, Midoriya grabs his pillow and tosses it across the room. It lands on a nearby wall that suddenly feels too close, and falls to the floor, and Midoriya is up off his bed and running out the door. He needs to get out of this claustrophobic room and away from his own thoughts. It doesn't matter where, anywhere.

He's not watching where he runs, taking corners blindly, rubbing away the tears that still spill from his eyes. He's surprised he has any left. Midoriya's bare feet pound along polished concrete floors, the only sound in the quiet of the night apart from his rugged breathing. It still feels futile. You can't outrun your own demons.

A door looms out of the darkness, and Midoriya stops short. He squints through the shadows, trying to make out the letters on the sign above, and - oh.

Midoriya allows himself a cynical chuckle. Typical, that even after everything today, he would take himself unknowingly to the kwoon room. It wasn't uncommon for him to come here of a nighttime, to practice while others slept. Gran Torino left the door unlocked for him, once he realized, and Midoriya would drill endlessly, trying desperately to develop drift compatibility.

Well. Perhaps he needed to beat out his frustrations.

The heavy door opened with the creak of metal hinges, and as Midoriya stepped into the room, a little of his pent-up grief drained away. The rows of staffs stacked in racks across the side wall, the padded floor of the centre, the large windows with a view of the ocean that let silver moonlight spill across the scene - it was a familiar, calming sight. Even the ever-so-slightly musty smell seemed comforting to him.

Midoriya heads over to a punching bag in the corner of the room, and readies himself into a fighting stance. His first hits are weak, but it doesn't take him long to get into the rhythm of it, and it isn't long before he works up a sweat. He snaps out a left hook, followed by two short jabs with his right fist, and it's easy to lose himself in the familiar routine. The memory of Todoroki's icy stare haunts him, and it lends extra strength into his punches. It seems a cruel twist of fate, for Midoriya to be at the top of his game now that he's not under test conditions. The frustration drives him faster, harder, and the injustice of his own self-sabotage rips through him with each impact.

Four-zero.

Midoriya slams a heavy fist into the leather, and the bag swings wildly. He stills, breathing heavy, and he's not really sure if he's accomplished anything at all. He's still just as furious at himself, just as heartbroken -

"You're good."

Midoriya whips around. Someone was watching him? It's a soft voice, quiet and unassuming and familiar -

Todoroki was standing in the doorway.

"You're good," Todoroki Shouto repeats, walking into the room, and Midoriya can only stare, dumbfounded. "Why didn't you fight like that earlier today?"

"I-" It's a struggle for Midoriya to find his words. What is Todoroki doing here? "I- I over think things, sometimes. It's easy for me to freeze up... when I'm being examined."

"Ah," Todoroki says, and Midoriya is sure he knows what Todoroki is thinking. He wouldn't be much use in a real fight, then. The TV station cameras, the pressure of having thousands of lives riding on your actions. If he can't handle a kwoon room exam, he can't handle a Jaeger. Midoriya can’t bear the thought of Todoroki thinking that about him. "That's not all, though."

What am I saying? Todoroki looks up, expression neutral, and, well - Midoriya has to go through with it now. "It's just... it was... It was you."

Todoroki's eyebrows rise a fraction. Midoriya couldn't tell if he'd piqued his interest, or insulted him beyond belief. He fights the sudden urge to backpedal himself out if this corner. "I just mean... You're a legend. You've been piloting a Jaeger for years, training for longer than any of us. You've seen real war, fought countless battles. It doesn't matter how long a cadet practices drills in the kwoon room. That will never hold up against your experience. I couldn't calculate my way to victory. Every move I made, you had a counter move already in motion. You're... seriously amazing."

He doesn't say: You're more amazing than I could ever be. He doesn't say: I've watched every one of your Jaeger drops ever televised, I've been chasing your back for years. I could never catch up to you. He doesn't say: You inspire me. You and Yaoyorozu were heroes, and you've inspired me for years. He doesn't say: I'm so, so sorry for your loss. The silence stretches out between them as Todoroki considers his words. Midoriya begins to fidget.

"...What are you doing here, anyway?" Midoriya asks, if only to break the silence. Todoroki blinks, broken out of his thoughts.

"Oh. I was hoping I'd run into you."

"Wh- me?"

"Yes, you. You ran away the moment we finished out duel. I didn't have a chance to talk to you afterwards."

Midoriya's eyes widen. He can't believe what he's hearing. Todoroki wants... to talk to me? "But... why? What did I do?"

Todoroki takes a step forward. "You felt it, didn't you? You felt that spark. We are drift compatible."

For a moment, Midoriya forgets how to breathe.

And then, he remembers himself. He smiles bitterly, shakes his head. Looks down at the ground. "No, we're not. I don't have drift compatibility. I've never felt it before, with anyone. I'm good at the theory - good at the simulators, good at the physical training in the kwoon room. But I just don't have that ability."

"Think back to that fight," Todoroki urges. His expression is open, vulnerable, and it's the most emotion Midoriya has seen him show all day. "You lasted longer than anyone else by far. You could read my moves and adapt to them. You have to have felt something. Anything."

It's easy to let his thoughts slip back to that morning. It's all he's been able to think about. But signs of drift compatibility... Midoriya doesn't know. He remembers goosebumps. Blood, that felt like it was on fire, charged with adrenaline. A rhythm of movement that seemed to call out to his own soul. An unnameable feeling rising up from deep within him.

Todoroki takes his silent introspection as an answer. He steps back, something in his eyes closing off. His expression is carefully molded back into something neutral. Midoriya feels the loss in his gut. Todoroki turns away, walks toward the door. "You... really didn't feel anything, then. It was just me. I'm sorry to have wasted your time-"

"If I did feel something-" Midoriya almost shouts, his voice feeling too loud in the silence of the night. Todoroki stops.

"If I was experiencing drift compatibility..." Midoriya tries again, swallowing, "I wouldn't really know... what to look for. What the signs are."

Todoroki turns around, and there’s a small frown on his face, as if he’s holding back choice words. Midoriya’s anxiety spikes.

“Listen,” Todoroki bites his lip. “I just lost the most important person in my life. They’re not even giving me two weeks to mourn. The Kaiju don’t stop for death, and they don’t stop for love, and they certainly don’t stop for men who aren’t sure what they’re feeling. Figure it out.”

His words are sharp and cold, each statement cutting Midoriya to the core. It hurts, but Midoriya can’t deny the truth of it. Maybe he’s being stupid, getting caught up in himself. There are bigger things at stake, and Todoroki is in front of him.

Offering him a second chance.

Todoroki picks up a staff from the rack on the wall and offers it to Midoriya. Midoriya can only nod wordlessly, hands shaking as he takes the wooden staff from him. He’s not entirely convinced yet that he's not dreaming. Todoroki walks over to the centre of the room, feet silent on the padded floor, and readies himself with his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He waits for Midoriya to make the first move. For a moment, Midoriya can only stand there. The he forces himself into action.

Midoriya aims low first - a strike to the thigh aimed to at least cause Todoroki to step back. Todoroki side steps it, and within moments, he's brought his own staff around to tap lightly against Midoriya's spine.

"Don't focus so hard on trying to beat me," Todoroki murmurs. "It's not meant to be a fight, it’s communication. Dialogue."

Midoriya steps back. "No one's ever told me that before.” Surely this wasn't the answer to all the problems he's been experiencing over the years. There's no way it could be that simple.

"I'm going to take it slow," he informs Todoroki, and Todoroki nods, changing up his stance a little. Midoriya reaches up to tap Todoroki's staff lightly with his own, and Todoroki responds in kind - slow-motion blocks and parries as they feel each other out, searching for a common wavelength, a rhythm that matches between the two of them. It's a series of subtle queries, a call-and-response that echoes and amplifies in the space between the two of them. Confidence growing, Midoriya increases his speed, uses a little more force. He steps in, and Todoroki steps back, and within minutes they're sparring in earnest.

It's a lack of foresight that proves Midoriya's downfall - Midoriya is so used to the pattern they've set themselves in that it comes as a complete shock when Todoroki spontaneously changes direction and comes at him from the other side. Startled, Midoriya leaps back, but the reach of the staff is longer, and that's how he finds himself with a staff stopping just short of his ear.

"This isn't working. I'm not feeling anything." Midoriya's brows furrow in irritation, uncertainty lacing through his chest.

"Your focus is internal." Todoroki draws the staff back, fixing his posture and returning himself to a ready stance. "Don't think so much about your own actions. Seek me out."

Midoriya takes a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous energy bouncing around inside of him, and tries again. "You go first."

Todoroki blinks once, and then he lunges - Midoriya knocks the strike to the side with a twirl of the staff, spinning it deftly between his fingers. Where are you? He moves in, makes a successful hit to Todoroki's shoulder, but Todoroki retaliates immediately, gripping Midoriya's staff firmly and tugging sharply backwards. Midoriya stumbles, but doesn't fall, and then Todoroki's back on the offensive, coming at him with a sweeping strike that Midoriya ducks. What will you do next? It's relentless, exhilarating - a jumbled pattern of move and countermove, strike and counter strike, and every step demands all of his concentration and energy. Come on. Please. The cool midnight air is sharp, harsh in Midoriya's lungs as he breathes fast and hard. There's something intoxicating about the burn of his muscles and the thrill of Todoroki in front of him, matching him step for step. How do you feel, Todoroki?

Even now, when he should be focusing on how to best combat Todoroki's next attack, the fanboy in Midoriya can't help but appreciate Todoroki’s seasoned, seamless technique. His every movement is smooth and graceful, like water running through a stream, swift and fierce and free. Poetry in the making. Todoroki seems ethereal under the stars shining through the window, hair turned silver and shadow in the moonlight. He waits for Midoriya's next move, knees bent and staff held at an angle in front of him, mismatched eyes filled with a furious fire that mirrors Midoriya's own soul.

Alive. It hits Midoriya like a sucker punch to the gut, clarity screaming through his senses. Todoroki feels alive. Like Midoriya does. One and the same.

Todoroki moves in again, his staff painting figures of eight in the dark of the room. But Midoriya's experienced this before, now. Alight with the knowledge, he can feel Todoroki's next move, and he slides his hands to grip both ends of the staff, angles it to the side and shoves-

Their staffs slam together with a force that has Midoriya tensing his muscles, and Todoroki's eyes widen, and all of Midoriya's senses sing out in a triumphant choir of yes.

It's indescribable. It’s a symphony - it's an angel's choir, a tidal wave that crashes over the two of them with the force of a thousand stars, and Midoriya lets it drench him in sunlight and fire. Each crack of the staff is thunder, the shock of contact surging up through his skin, deep into his bones. Power thrums in Midoriya's veins, the only answer to questions yet unasked. Somewhere along the way, something has shifted. They are dancing - no, they're flying. There's no other feeling like this.

Midoriya swings his staff around at the same time Todoroki aims a roundhouse strike at his ribs. Their staffs thwack together in the space between them. Midoriya presses, and Todoroki pushes back, and it becomes a contest of strength to see who will back down first. But the exhaustion of the day wars with the exhilaration of compatibility, and neither gains any ground, locked in place. Midoriya looks at Todoroki, and the two of them still.

Their chests heave in time, souls synced down to each breath they take. The connection buzzes between them, a low hum felt in their veins. Midoriya can't find the words to tell Todoroki what he's thinking. Can't find the words to tell him about the elation that floods his system, can't find the words to beg tell me you're not lying, tell me you'll let me be your co-pilot because it all feels too good to be true. It’s as if he’s cheating. Maybe Todoroki already knows what he’s trying to say. They’re drift compatible, after all. This is a miracle that the two of them share.

Todoroki breaks away first. He places the staff carefully against the wall, walks over to the door. The connection pulls taut between them as he turns his back and leaves, and for a split second it makes Midoriya panic.

"Meet me at the Shatterdome, at 0600 hours," Todoroki reaches to close the door behind him.

"Wh - why? Where are you going?" Midoriya calls after him, voice cracking only slightly on the first syllable. Todoroki has his back turned, but Midoriya can feel the tired smile that spreads over his features all the same.

"I've seen all I need to see. You are my new partner."