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It was late on a rainy night, and Shinsou didn’t know why Midoriya was tagging along with him and Aizawa on patrol.
Really. This was a stealth mission. Class 1-A’s Golden Child was one of three people with the flashiest Quirks that Shinsou had ever met. Midoriya and stealth were the exact opposites of one another. Easily. And yet, Shinsou wasn’t going to judge his mentor for what he was doing. Aizawa knew what he was doing. If he wanted Midoriya on this patrol, then he had a reason for it. Hopefully.
Besides, Midoriya had been on a few stealth missions before. Sure, they had been with Endeavor, Todoroki, and Bakugou, so Shinsou doubted they stayed stealthy for long.
Swinging through the streets at night, Shinsou glanced at Midoriya. Midoriya was using Blackwhip the same way Shinsou and Aizawa were using their capture weapons to move. Honestly, the talent was there. The skill was there. Midoriya was good at what he was doing. Really, it was impressive.
All of a sudden, Aizawa froze on top of a building, swinging to a stop. Midoriya and Shinsou landed beside him delicately. “What is it?” Shinsou asked, voice a shade above a whisper. Turning to him, Aizawa nodded down into the street.
Stumbling along the road beneath them, a backpack slung over her shoulders and bruises across her skin, was a young woman. She was wearing a blue tank top and gray sweats. Despite the rain, she didn’t even have shoes, let alone an umbrella or a jacket. Rain plastered black hair to her face and shoulders. More than that, she kept glancing down, panting. There was a nasty scrape on her left cheek, and one of her eyes was blackened and beginning to swell. Her backpack was smattered with mud and what Shinsou really hoped wasn’t blood.
The woman darted down into the alley where they were.
Their shadows gave them away. Freezing, the young woman snapped her head up and looked directly at them. With a gasp, she threw herself backwards into the wall. Midoriya inhaled sharply while Aizawa lowered himself down into the alley.
Okay, it wasn’t actually an alley. There was a dead end. Unfortunately, Aizawa had blocked off her exit. She continued to back away, one hand braced over her rounded belly and oh, shit, she was pregnant. Like, pregnant pregnant.
“Miss?” Aizawa prompted.
Dropping down beside him, Shinsou tilted his head from one side to the other. As for Midoriya, he went a little slower, but did the same. The woman flinched back.
“No. No, no, please. Please.” She murmured, glancing around. Her eyes landed on Midoriya for a second, darted down to his shoes. They were the same kind as he always wore, just sloppily painted black. Still, some sort of recognition flared in her eyes. She glanced up at Midoriya and signed something, eyebrows raised.
Midoriya touched Aizawa’s arm. “Let me handle this. Please?”
Aizawa studied him for a second. Then, he nodded.
The woman crumpled to the ground, pressing herself into a corner of the alleyway. Her eyes were wide, brown turned black in the night. She still had a hand pressed to the wall behind her. The other rested on her stomach still.
Hands out, Midoriya signed to her.
More recognition flashed across her face. Blinking, she looked at him. She signed something back. It looked like it was Japanese Sign Language, but at the same time, he didn’t recognize the signs. Shinsou glanced at Aizawa.
After some time, the young woman nodded. She reached out a hand for him. Gently taking it, Midoriya stepped closer, signed something to her, and then picked her up bridal-style.
He cradled her to his chest, turning to Shinsou and Aizawa.
“Aizawa.” He began. “Do you know where the closest Sanctuary Clinic is?”
Aizawa stared at him for a moment. Then, he nodded. “Of course. This way.”
Shinsou glanced after his mentor, then after Midoriya when he began to follow. Neither of them gave any explanation. Sighing, Shinsou followed after them.
This time, they stayed on the ground, walking towards…somewhere. The area around them changed, going from semi-suburban to a ramshackle corner store sort of thing. Old, nostalgic, and friendly—but definitely not somewhere that he expected Midoriya to be walking. Midoriya was the kind of person who got everything silver spoon-fed to him. He just…happened to be really good at throwing up a caring persona, that was all. If Shinsou really pushed him, surely that persona would snap eventually.
People like Midoriya didn’t belong here.
Eventually, Aizawa paused. “I…don’t know the rest of the way. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I know the way from here. They moved recently,” Midoriya glanced over his shoulder, smiling. In his arms, the young woman pulled herself closer and then buried her face in Midoriya’s neck. She seemed so…trusting of the Golden Child. It was strange. There was no reason for her to trust the Golden Child. They had just met. Sure, he knew…whatever it was that they had signed to one another. Shinsou didn’t care. He didn’t. If Midoriya knew some kind of secret language, that wouldn’t even be very shocking. Midoriya was just a nerd like that.
Eyes narrowing as he stared at Midoriya’s back, Shinsou followed until they turned down a sketchy-looking alleyway. Midoriya guided them to one of the houses, tucked in between two hole-in-the-wall style food shops. His walking was confident, and he strode up to the door. He adjusted his grip on the woman in his arms and used his shoe to knock three times.
Aizawa and Shinsou caught up with him, quick enough for Shinsou to see Midoriya add something else to his knock. A few moments passed. Then, the door opened, just a crack. “Nice shoes.”
“Thanks, I stole them from the President.” Midoriya replied smoothly.
The face in the door was a young woman’s. Pale lilac eyes flicked from Midoriya and the woman he was holding to Aizawa and Shinsou. Swallowing, she brushed a strand of white hair from her eyes. “You have company.”
“They’re trustworthy. My teacher and my classmate.” Midoriya replied. “I’ll vouch for them.”
“You swear it?” Midoriya nodded. Taking a breath, the woman glanced between them all and then closed the door. Several locks were undone.
Then, the door opened.
Immediately, the woman stepped over to Midoriya. She raised a hand to the other woman’s forehead. Eyes squeezed shut, the woman clung tighter to Midoriya. “She’s feverish. All three of you, come in.” She gave Shinsou and Aizawa a cautionary glance. “The two of you can stay in the back.”
“Thanks, Lily.”
“’Course, shamrock.”
Shamrock? Shinsou glanced at Aizawa. His mentor simply shrugged, turning to watch as Lily and Midoriya made their way through the rest of the room.
Inside the house, the place was very visibly once a post office or something of that sort. Old shelves stocked with medical supplies and shelf-stable foods were braced against cracked walls. Posters were slapped up every few feet, one on top of the other. They advertised theatre shows Shinsou didn’t recognize, movies and books—some of them were Pre-Quirk media that he did recognize. Others were newer. The dates were all recent, within the past five years. There were a few holes in the walls, other placers where there were obvious patches. A whole jar of hard caramels sat by one of the doors. There was a TV that had been paused in the middle of another movie Shinsou didn’t recognize. A few ratty-looking couches were placed around the TV and a coffee table that had a precarious tilt to it. There was a bowl of popcorn, several half-full cups on coasters, and a few loved-looking crochet blankets were there, too. A staircase cloaked in shadow led up to a second floor.
Lily led them into another room, knocking on one of the walls as she went. Behind her, Midoriya did the same thing with his foot in a quick beat. A small smile tilted his mouth as he glanced back at Shinsou and then looked up at the ceiling. There were quick footsteps.
“Who all is here tonight?” Midoriya asked. “I can see we’re watching Armored Adventures.”
“Bluebell and Primrose found some new kids. They’re trying to get them to calm down. We need to do an Ark.”
Midoriya’s eyes darkened as he turned back to Lily. “How many?”
“Three. Nicknames are Robin, Starling, Tanager.” Midoriya nodded.
They slipped through a hallway. Then, they entered another room. It looked like a homemade doctor’s clinic. On the wall, there were a few licenses. Aizawa studied them. Then, softly, he nodded and hummed.
“Set her down here.” Lily ordered. Nodding, Midoriya helped the young woman he was carrying onto the examination table. “You two, go stand by the wall.”
“We can help—” Shinsou started. Behind him, Aizawa set a hand on his shoulder.
Lily, however, got there first.
Head snapping to the side, she scowled at him. Shinsou let Aizawa pull him over so they could lean against the wall. “We don’t want your help. Shamrock, you know what to do.”
“Problem Child, do you—”
“I have a medical license.” Hurrying over to one of the many cabinets, Midoriya pulled out a small box. Then, he fetched a notepad and a pen. He hurried to the sink and started washing his hands.
“Name?”
“Alice. Alice Yamamoto.” Aizawa sucked in a small breath beside him. Glancing over, Shinsou turned back to watching the exam. The walls were pale blue, the floor was white. Compared to the rest of the area, inside and out, it was shockingly clean. “I’m pregnant.”
“Alright, Alice. For the meantime, for your safety, we’re going to give you a nickname, okay? I’m Lily, this is Shamrock. Shamrock, what’s the current rotation?”
“Uh, let me check…” Midoriya glanced at a small, laminated paper right beside them. “Descriptors. Next ones on the list are Grace and Faith.”
“Faith. I want Faith.” Alice said. Nodding, Lily glanced at Midoriya. He smiled and crossed off the name.
“How old are you?” Lily asked.
They went through the questions quickly. Alice was nineteen. Her husband was Tony Yamamoto. He was Quirked. He was abusing her. Lily had Alice change into a new set of clothes and called someone else to wash them, someone named Cedar. She and Midoriya continued to help Alice with her injuries—her husband had left bite marks on her. He’d only married her because she wouldn’t be able to fight back against him without a Quirk. Her family was rich. He wanted access to that money, so he promised he’d take care of her.
Either Alice’s family and her husband had a fucked-up definition of “taking care” of someone, or Alice hadn’t been able to tell them what he was really doing to her.
Alice, Faith, whichever one she wanted, wanted to keep the baby. That was the one thing she had control over. She wanted kids, at least her husband hadn’t been “like that”.
(She acted like it was somehow a privilege that her husband only shouted and beat her. Like him throwing things somehow would be okay as long as—it left a sick, uncomfortable, familiar taste in the back of Shinsou’s mouth. When he’d glanced at Aizawa, his eyes had narrowed. He was remembering something. Maybe it wasn’t the same incident Shinsou was thinking of, but it was certainly along those lines. Midoriya had simply continued on with this expression Shinsou also didn’t like. There was too much knowing there, too much in his face.)
When the whole checkup was done, Midoriya and Cedar helped Faith off…somewhere. Originally, Shinsou glanced at Aizawa. Then, he saw the look on his mentor’s face.
There was also Lily.
Again, she turned to them and immediately scowled. “Shamrock trusts you. You’re lucky, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring anyone here. Let alone anyone…like you.” She sneered the words. Anyone who’s Quirked. But…Midoriya is Quirked?
Unless there’s something I don’t know about. Shinsou glanced at Aizawa again. The man took a breath. Unless there’s something neither of us know about. Huh. Midoriya doesn’t strike me as the type of person to keep secrets.
“Anyways, you can remain here until Shamrock takes you out. You will not tell anyone anything of what you saw.” She whipped around and pointed an accusatory finger at Aizawa, getting close enough to poke him in the chest. If she were a reporter, or even another hero, that wouldn’t have gone well. Aizawa would have grabbed her arm. He’d have moved her hand. This time, he didn’t. “You, Eraserhead. I know you work with Detective Tsukauchi. I know a little bit about this Tony Yamamoto, unfortunately. I expect you to handle it, because clearly none of your other superpowered friends chose to give a shit about Alice until now. I don’t care if she didn’t say anything—you Heroes have a duty to protect the public, and so do the police. I don’t think any of this—”
She gestured to the blood-spotted tissues in the nearby trashcan.
“—counts as protecting the public.” She straightened up, lifting her chin. “I don’t care what you think of me. Including you, student. I don’t care who you are, or who you become. You’re lucky to have a Quirk.”
“Have you told Mi—Shamrock this?” Shinsou asked. Sharp, pale lilac eyes narrowed. If she’d had a Quirk, Shinsou would have thought it was staring daggers.
“I didn’t need to tell Shamrock any of this. He’s been here longer than I have.” With that, Lily took a breath. “Now, the two of you shut up. I have work to do fixing this all back to normal. When Shamrock returns, he can take you elsewhere. I don’t care, just don’t mess up our safe house. We only have so many spaces of our own.”
“Of course.” Aizawa said.
Lily shot him a look, then turned and began pulling out cleaning supplies.
Shinsou watched her as she swiftly cleaned things up. It was quick work, skilled. She’d done something like this repeatedly. For her, it was easy. She didn’t even bother glancing at Shinsou or Aizawa as she worked. The two of them remained still, anyways.
When Midoriya returned, he smiled softly. “Why don’t the two of you come with me? I can show you around one of the safer areas. Lily, do you mind if I show them the kitchens? I, uh, may have left some of my snacks with Yaoyorozu.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Turning to look at him, face softer (though it still had an edge), Lily nodded. “Take what you need, Shamrock. We’re only here because of you.”
“Right. Oh, Cedar’s getting Faith set up in High Hopes right now. She gave me the necessary information and I got a report and the like filled out, so we shouldn’t need to talk to her again.” Midoriya explained. “It’s for her sake. I’ll turn the papers over to my teacher.”
He hasn’t named us. Not yet. Is that on purpose? Shinsou wondered, glancing at his teacher and watching for his reaction. Nothing. No offense, no frustration. Just…nothing. A blank, studying look.
Midoriya led them into another room. This one was smaller than the others they had been in before. A few ratty couches, none of which matched, were pushed against the walls. There was a table with a book under one of the legs. The book was missing its cover. Stripped. Wonder if they got it like that or they did it themselves. When Shinsou glanced at the exposed flyleaf with the title, he noticed that there were scribbles and red ink all over the page. There were a lot of curse words. Huh. On the walls, there were various posters for more movies he had never heard of, as well as something called the Renegade Festival. Most of the posters were signed by names he didn’t recognize—though, he wasn’t sure they were actually names. He spotted a Sparrow, a Taipan, a Belladonna…more of those weird names. I wonder if this has to do with the names Shamrock, Lily, Cedar, and Faith. Are these Quirkless people?
He paused by one of the posters and stood examining it, tilting his head from one side to the other. Midoriya walked over to him. “I took that photo.” Midoriya explained.
Shinsou studied the poster. It was from the back of some kind of dark room. In the center of the poster, there was some form of…he guessed it was a band? The lights were too bright, and the band wasn’t in focus, either. Rather, the raised hands of the crowd were the focus. Some of them had glow-in-the-dark paint on the backs of them, neon-bright and eye-catching. They came in multiple colors, and there were swirls over almost everyone’s skin. He couldn’t see any faces, though. No discernible features, either. This is—
“This is the Renegade Festival. It’s a Quirkless-only Festival for our media.” Midoriya explained, drawing his fingers over one of the signatures. The pane of glass between the poster and his fingers was clean. “The leader of the band, Starlight, passed away not too long after this. She was twenty-one.”
“I’m sorry,” Shinsou said, wincing as he spoke. The words felt…hollow, inadequate. “What happened?”
Turning to him, Midoriya smiled weakly, “It sounds dumb. Appendicitis. She went to the doctor, but…” His eyes went back to the poster, and he sighed softly. “No one believed her. She ended up being taken to the hospital because paramedics insisted she had a ruptured stomach or whatever, but then…they would not treat her. Because she was Quirkless.”
“I thought that was illegal.”
“So is abusing your wife.” There was a darkness in his voice. A moment passed. Then, taking a breath, Midoriya turned on his heel and pulled a USB drive from his pocket. He strode to Aizawa. “Here. This is the information on what happened with Officer Yamamoto. He works with Tsukauchi. Surprise, surprise—he’s a dick.”
Aizawa took the offered drive quietly. “Thank you, Midoriya. I understand this must have been hard to do.”
Midoriya stared at him. “Thank me by helping Faith out. It’s the least she deserves.” He glanced around. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and talk to some of the people around here. Unfortunately, Faith isn’t the only one who’s been in the same situation. So…I have friends to check on.”
“Go ahead.” Aizawa said.
Turning to him, Midoriya said, “You need to stay in this room. You’re Quirked. You’re lucky Lily was nice to you. I’m pretty sure she would punch Endeavor in the face if she had the chance.”
He hurried off, closing the door behind him. Walking over to the book pinned beneath the table, Shinsou squinted at the actual typed words. “Hmm. Good riddance,” he murmured, pushing himself up and then walking over to Aizawa. “What do you think about your Golden Boy?”
Aizawa had pulled up a file on his phone. Midoriya’s file, Shinsou now realized. Glancing over his mentor’s shoulder, reading the words there, Shinsou swallowed. Under Quirk, Midoriya had an additional note.
“Student was registered as Quirkless until shortly after entrance exam. Officially listed as a “false negative”. See Nedzu for more details.”
“I think,” Aizawa began, voice an odd tone that Shinsou had never heard before, “that I have made a mistake.”
A grand total of thirty-six hours later, Aizawa took Shinsou and Midoriya with him to Tsukauchi’s workplace to arrest Officer Yamamoto.
Midoriya was uncharacteristically quiet, on some sort of website that Shinsou didn’t recognize. When he noticed Shinsou looking at his phone, Midoriya tilted his phone slightly. The screen disappeared completely, going black. Huh. Didn’t think he was the type to have a tinted screen protector. I guess that makes sense, though, Shinsou thought. He looked between Aizawa and their driver’s heads to the street beyond them, spotting the police station in the distance. “Any particular reason that you’re bringing two students with us?” Shinsou asked. Turning to him, Aizawa narrowed his eyes slightly. Then, he sighed.
“Nedzu insisted.” He turned back ahead. “Besides, the two of you were closely involved with this case. Since the principal wanted you to receive some closure, as well as some…other complicating factors, he decided this would be best.” Scratching his neck and pulling at his capture scarf, Aizawa sighed. Shinsou glanced him up and down.
“Do you miss your husband?” He asked, deciding now was as good a time as any to be a little—
“Don’t be a brat.” Aizawa grumbled, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. Smirking, Shinsou turned and looked out the window. Midoriya typed something, then turned off his phone. He tucked it inside his jacket. Where, Shinsou didn’t know—it didn’t look like it was something he could hide pockets in.
Then again, Midoriya had been surprising Shinsou a lot lately.
None of them spoke until they had walked into the police station. At the front desk, Tsukauchi was waiting for them already. So was, unfortunately, the man they had come to get.
Tony Yamamoto looked like a dick. Slicked back, short dark blue hair, yellow eyes, skin a few shades lighter than his wife’s. His nails were too sharp. When he turned to look at them and flashed a grin, his teeth looked sharp, too.
Didn’t he bite his wife? He thought he remembered Midoriya and Lily mentioning that. He knew that Tony was twenty-six, not nineteen like Alice had been. It didn’t matter, anyways. Tony Yamamoto was here, Alice was not and she was safe, and they were going to make sure she stayed that way by arresting him.
“Tony Yamamoto?” Aizawa prompted, walking up to him. Instantly, that stupid smirk dropped off Yamamoto’s face. Glancing at Midoriya, he scowled.
Then, before Shinsou could even process it, Yamamoto was pinned with his face smashed into the secretary’s desk and his arms behind his back.
Hmm. Serves him right, Shinsou thought. Beside him, he heard Midoriya huff happily. Glancing over, Shinsou watched Midoriya’s face. He was filming. Subtly, yes, but he was filming.
Wow. Midoriya is…something, he thought to himself. “I’m sure you know what these are, though you’ve never used them, but I do have to read you your rights.” Aizawa started, listing off the rights as he spoke. He sounded bored. Tsukauchi turned and fetched some handcuffs.
“Naomasa.” Yamamoto started. “Come on, you know me. He’s talking shit. Come on.”
“I do know you.” Tsukauchi said, returning and passing Aizawa the cuffs. Looking down at him, he said, “Thing is…I don’t think I’ve ever met your wife.”
Yamamoto snarled and started cursing, and Shinsou couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy watching the man humiliate himself in front of the entire police station.
Six Years Later…
The only reason Shinsou didn’t take a building to the head was because of a flash of green lightning and a familiar face.
Standing over him, hoisting the fallen building (okay, it was a wall. It was still an entire fricking wall, though—dammit Eijirou!) off to the side, Izuku turned to him. A bloody-lipped grin split Izuku’s face. “That’s horrifying. Stop smiling.” Shinsou pointed out.
“Come on, Hitoshi. You know how I am.” Izuku fired back, turning and holding out a hand. Reaching up, Shinsou grabbed it.
“Codenames in the field,” he grunted out as Izuku hoisted him upright. Patting his shoulder and dusting him off, Izuku kept that dumb grin.
“Come on, Mirage. You know how I am.”
“Yeah, and you’ve gotten worse, Deku.” Shinsou sighed. The two of them turned to the battlefield. Or, more of the aftermath. “Can’t believe I almost got brained by a wall.”
“Happens to the best of us. At least you’re not in hospital right now.” Izuku cracked, slipping an arm around Shinsou’s middle and helping him limp towards the paramedics. “Did you hear about Creati? Poor thing took herself out because of hypoglycemia.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, I thought Fat Gum was going to have an aneurysm. Poor guy.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot. Am I a poor guy?”
“No, you’re just an idiot.” Izuku replied cheerfully. Turning a scowl on him, Shinsou rolled his eyes with a smile. When they reached the paramedics, Shinsou was guided to sit down.
“I’m not even that hurt. It’s just a rolled ankle. It’s been worse than that before.” With a sigh, Shinsou tipped his head back as the paramedics and Izuku ignored him. “Do you remember when Kaminari tried to do a backflip at graduation?”
“And managed to concuss himself? Yeah. I’ve never heard Kacchan be so damn aggressive.”
“Don’t let Ingenium hear you say that, he’s going to scold you for swearing.” Shinsou laughed. “Why is Bakugou the medic, anyways? Who let him be that?”
“Because Uraraka’s bedside manner is worse than any of us ever thought it could be? Sure, it only applies to us, but—”
“Right, didn’t she threaten to strangle Shoji because he wouldn’t stop moving.”
“It was Aoyama, actually. Shoji was the one who she threatened to rebreak his arm because he kicked her accidentally. She also terrified Dark Shadow.” Shaking his head, Izuku laughed again. “Somehow, fantastic rescue hero. She should never be a doctor.”
“Can’t be worse than Kirishima passing out if you even mention needles around him. All Might’s tits, he’s awful.”
“What did you just say?” Izuku beamed at him. One of the paramedics was trying to treat his split lip. He was not helping them.
Horror almost stopped Shinsou’s heart. “Wait—”
“I’m so telling Dad Might—”
“—no don’t tell Dad Might he’s going to murder me—”
“—who even came up with that?”
They were stopped when someone slipped closer. Two people, actually, though one was clinging to the other’s back. Both of them were covered in dust, and Shinsou was pretty sure they were parent and child. When he turned, though, Izuku’s eyes lit up immediately. “Hello.” The woman said, and her voice sounded familiar. Shinsou couldn’t quite place it, though.
Despite the muck and dust covering her, he knew her face was familiar, too. Shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes, light brown skin dotted with freckles…she had a sweater with stars on the sleeves, atrocious red sneakers, and blue jeans on, but—
“Faith!” Izuku burst out. “Oh my gosh, hi! How are you? Are you okay? Were you in the building—is everyone okay? Are you alright, did you get hurt—”
Right. “Alice.” Shinsou said suddenly. Turning to him, Alice smiled. She looked…healthier. The bruises were gone, sure, but—there was light back in her eyes.
“Hello, Mirage.” She turned to Izuku, smile softening, “Shamrock.”
Izuku beamed. “How have you been? I didn’t know you were back in Japan, I thought you were—oh, one second.” The paramedic in front of him began applying some antiseptic to a cut on Izuku’s eyebrow. That’s going to scar.
Guess the agency is going to have to start the count over again.
At least Izuku owes us cupcakes.
“Japan has been well. I moved to Britain with my family shortly after.” The girl clinging to her back whimpered. She looked like a twin of her mom, almost. Her eyes were jet-black. Glancing over her shoulder, Alice smiled softly. She started whispering something to her daughter, kissing her temple and holding her carefully.
“Oh my gosh you have a kid! Hi!” Izuku said. “Wait, sorry. Sorry, I look awful right now. Hi, I’m Izuku!”
“Hitoshi.” Shinsou said softly. Nodding, the girl buried her face in the back of her mom’s hair.
“This is Hope.” Alice introduced. Turning back to them, she said, “I named her after what I needed at the time. She’s lived up to the name without even trying. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know as much Japanese as she does English.”
Hope tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. When she did, Shinsou caught a glimpse of—“Oh! Does she know JSL or BSL?” Alice replied something to Izuku. As soon as he started signing to Hope, she immediately brightened up. Hands flailing so fast she almost fell from her mom’s back, Hope began signing right back to him.
Glancing at Alice, sitting down as the paramedics treated him, Shinsou smiled and watched Izuku and Hope sign.