“Right,” Izuku says, pushing himself to his feet. “I want you to break the rocks down there for Quirk practice.” “Great,” she smirks, “you’ll be on the train home by golden hour, but you’re not done here.” She points at the river with a chopstick. “So, how do you feel?” “Like I’m going to pass out,” Izuku says. Mirko nudges his shoulder as he finishes eating. His stomach feels like a deep trench until he’s gone through more food than he usually thinks about in a day. Nothing looks very homemade, which isn’t exactly surprising, but Izuku still devours next to everything he can get. “Don’t pass out without doing cooldown stretches,” she chides, “and eat something.” She nudges him with her foot as he sunbathes, until he finally groans to life and does a few stretches as he surveys the food Mirko brought. After a few minutes of climbing, Izuku collapses into the warm, sunlit grass next to her. She produces a small feast from her backpack as lunch, although she’s sitting on the raised cliff on the other side of the river. The third time is when he realizes it’s a pattern, when she gives him a break from punching and kicking drills that pound the form into his muscle memory. The trail goes by a beautiful clearing, where Mirko promises “physical conditioning like a fuckin’ ox.” The trees thin out near a low river with rocks peaking out all across it and churning water in small, nature-made waterfalls. The second time is when Mirko’s second run through the rough and bumpy natural terrain comes to a stop. That becomes the operating basis of the day: Izuku gets worked until he has to stop, and breathes heavy, and hydrates, and then starts again. She stops when they reach a trailhead, and he takes gulps of water between ragged breaths. He’s been staring at her backpack for kilometers. Mirko sets a pace that can’t be beneficial for Izuku’s health from the train station until the city thins, and things, and wow a metal briefcase is heavy, his arms feel like jelly. This one is heathered red, which is… It’s not a good color, but it’s better than a shirt that says ‘formal’ or ‘shoes.’ Mirko meets him at the station in a cropped hoodie and sweatpants- she still has that sort of aura of fame every celebrity has, but she’s managed to keep it low-key enough to avoid paparazzi or reporters. On his second day as an intern, Izuku brings his costume, but he wears black joggers and one of his blessedly blank t-shirts. So, yeah, closet is a lost cause, but it’s not like that’s the end of the world. Until his ankles show past his pant legs and his shirts feel tight on his shoulders, it’s a waste of time and money. But being underprepared is just as risky, what if there’s a piece that I need blue for? Ultimately, he knows that he’ll end up spending most of his allowance on that same thing.īesides, clothes shopping is an effort. He uses a lot of blue, he could maybe squeeze more allowance out by leaning on the other colors for a while. It’s just… He’s going to need to restock his shades of blue, probably. He has some plain tees, too, and he never replaced that tracksuit but he could probably get one with his allowance. He’s long past the ‘knowing which every one is’ stage and into the ‘not acknowledging it until other people notice’ stage. The shirts are… Well, he doesn’t like them, but they’re more of an afterthought. Maybe a flannel or some of the merch could stay, but that doesn’t really count. With a more analytical eye, his closet is actually unsalvageable. Ongoing Fics (bnha), Jaded Discord Server Recommendations, The Forest Stats: Published: Updated: Words: 39,371 Chapters: 18/? Comments: 164 Kudos: 410 Bookmarks: 115 Hits: 9,538 ![]() ![]() Quirkless Discrimination (My Hero Academia).Iida Tenya & The Power of Incredible Violence.Midoriya Izuku & Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko.僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia.
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