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Description

Chapter Three: Progression

Five Years Ago…

    Itsuka set the stack of boxes down, shrinking her hands back down to normal size. The sun beat down on the pavement, and the empty moving truck sat outside, their help having departed scant minutes ago for lunch.
            In the continuing pursuit of a sense of normality, her father had decided to open a dojo. Even crippled, he had no small amount of knowledge concerning several martial arts, and his name attracted more than a few students interested in learning from a retired Pro-Hero.
            She looked around the building. The space they had chosen had a large garage that was currently littered with boxes and exercise equipment, all pressed against the walls, and the “office” only had a card table and a folding chair at the moment. The air conditioning was going to be fixed later in the week, so the place smelled strange and was muggy to boot.
            “What do you think, Itsuka?” he asked.
    She sniffed the air, then said “I think we still need to air the place out some more.”
            “Fair enough.” Her father nodded. “In the meantime, since we’re waiting, what do you say we break it in?”
    “What about unpacking?”
    “We’re actually ahead of schedule. The boxes can wait a little while longer, wouldn’t you agree?”
            Itsuka pouted, about to argue, but thought better of it. “Think you’ll make it with just the cane?”
            Her father set his weight fully on his legs. “I may have lost a few steps, but I think that puts me just high enough to give you a proper challenge.” He paused and looked down at the crutch. “Still, probably better keep it on hand.”
            “Good. It makes you look more like those old masters from the movies.” She gave him a teasing smile, which he returned after a second.
            “Heh, I’m not that old,” he said, rolling his eyes exaggeratingly.
            The cane set aside, they walked over where one of the mats had already been laid out. The two bowed to one another and took stances, bending slightly at the knees.
    It was good seeing him standing on his own again, even with the braces helping him. He had spent as much time as able relearning old steps and testing the boundaries of what his physical condition allowed for, and she had trained alongside him, absorbing his lessons like a sponge.
            Her hand expanded, catching his fist it shot out towards her. As expected, he slipped out and countered, throwing her back a few steps, his arms compressing for another strike. Predictably, he didn’t pursue her, opting to stand his ground.
            She followed through the rudimentary motions she had been learning over the last year, taking care not to aim for his legs. That said, he gave better than he was getting, keeping her back and heading off any attempts to close the distance.
    As a Quirk, Big Hands were good for a lot of different things, as was the strength and physical resistance that came with it. But she was not anywhere close to Pro-Hero level, much less one in their prime. Her father had years of experience, and his Quirk was still going strong, and nullified any hits she managed to land.
            Then an opening appeared. Ducking under her father’s next punch, Itsuka darted through and aimed a kick at his side. He leaned away from her kick, then grabbed her leg, holding her in place while her arms pinwheeled comically. Flashing a grin, he relaxed.
            “Good job, Itsuka,” he said, letting go. “Though you should be more cautious with fortuitous openings like that.”
    Settling on their feet, they stood up straight and bowed to each other.
            “I still have a lot to learn,” she replied.
            “It’ll come to you with time…time and plenty of training.”
            Itsuka groaned half-heartedly as he tussled her hair and pulled her in for a hug. His arm stretched to pick his cane up again as Obsidian’s car pulled up, honking to herald the arrival of food.
            “In the meantime, now that we’ve more than worked up an appetite, how about lunch?”

[IB]

            Yuri stood in silence as she sipped from her thermos. Today, her hair was done up in a ponytail instead of the usual braided bun, and she wore a plain, black t-shirt and track pants, her jacket tossed over a broken refrigerator nearby.
            Standing on the beach, her student was flinging the block across the beach with one Quirk, then pulling it back it back with another. Speed was good, especially for a wooden block, and his aim had improved considerably since he had first begun, as had his output control.
            It was a good thing that had started with flinging things out to sea. That first burst had been a shotgun blast and had carved an inlet into the beach.
            “That’s enough for now,” she said. A final Push, and her student leaned back. “You’re getting better at changing gears.”
            Izuku grumbled under his breath, likely frustrated with the slow progress, which Yuri could sympathize with. It was still a long way to go, and so far, they had really only touched on two of his…acquisitions. With Izuku’s unique circumstances, it was best to focus on maintaining the masquerade.
            “Now, about your homework...”
    Izuku Pulled a notebook off the broken table nearby, then handed it to her, then sat down and closed his eyes. Light flickered off of him for a split second, and when he opened his eyes, the sclerae had turned black. Raising a hand, one of the discarded pieces of garbage were Pulled into orbit around him
            Reading through a half-finished analysis notebook, she paced back and forth, periodically adding another object for him to telekinetically juggle when he steadied his balance.
    Getting over his mental blocks had been a trial, but the boy’s long-neglected enthusiasm for studying everything relating to Quirks had swiftly overtaken his initial holdups, as had his determination to see his path through to the end.
            After almost a dozen pages of descriptions and breakdowns of each and every Quirk in his possession, Yuri paused at the blank page that followed.
    “You didn’t list your original Quirk,” she said.
            The blocks gathered in front of Izuku and shot off into the distance, bouncing around the beach or imbedding in assorted junk.
    “It’s not like I’m going to use it,” he muttered.
    “Perhaps, but it’s not going away.”
    Izuku grunted. Not much of a concession from the kid, but it was something she could work on. No therapist in the world would be cleared for this sort of thing, so it fell to her to fill role.
            “Remember what I said when you started?” she asked.
    “’The first step to conquering your fear is understanding what it is that makes you afraid’,” he answered.
    “Your Quirk is a part of you. And in some ways, it is the best weapon in your arsenal, not because of what it does, but what it tells you about your enemy.” She paused, glancing at her student. “I can understand your reluctance to face this, but if you’re to ever reach your full potential, much less face your father, this is all part of the climb.”
    “I know that!”
    Yuri was quiet for a minute, trying to find a way to get through to him. It wasn’t something she usually talked about beyond the vague descriptions, but it was probably the best chance of getting through to him. Taking a breath, she walked around and sat down across from Izuku, tenting her hands in front of her.
    “I’ve killed people before,” she admitted. “Lots of people, actually. I didn’t always use my Quirk. Didn’t always use a gun or blade, or things remotely considered weapons. At least once, I just caused enough racket that the old man killed himself rather than face me.”
    Izuku blinked at her. “Are you going somewhere with this?”
    Raising an eyebrow at her student, Yuri refrained from flicking the kid in the forehead.
    “Having a dangerous Quirk isn’t what makes you dangerous,” she continued. “Your Quirk has its dangers, true; you know that better than anyone. But ignoring that danger does not mitigate it, much less eliminate it. And painting yourself as monster or weapon because of it does you a great disservice.” Another pause, she could see Izuku’s posture shift, if only a little. “You are more than sum of your parts, more than your father’s son, and your past doesn’t have to define you.”
    Pensive, Izuku looked to the ground. “I’ll think about it.”
     “That is something I can work with.”
    Izuku looked up at her again. “How long did it take for you to get a handle on your own Quirk?”
            “The basics? About the time I turned fourteen. Total mastery came closer to twenty.”
            “And’s just one Quirk,” Izuku muttered. “How am I supposed to catch up to someone with centuries of experience?”
    “There are ways,” Yuri replied, sitting up straight. “Perhaps talking it over will give you some ideas. You never did describe how your Quirk works in great detail.”
    Izuku leaned back, staring at the sky. “It’s like I fall into a void. Everything goes black, for the most part. And there’s these lights around me, little stars that I can pull on.”
            “Have you tried using more than one at a time?”
            “No. Aside from Pull, if I use more than one, they all tend to react violently. It took months to get them all to quiet down so I could think straight.”
            “Suppression is not the same thing as control,” she retorted, standing up. “We already have idea of what you’re capable of, the power you are capable of projecting. You just need to master what you have so that your Quirk will do only what you wish and when you will it so.” She pulled at her middle fingernail, drawing a length of metallic wire the width of a fishing line and whipping it around, identical threads extending outward to match. “And when you can look beyond what is evident…”
    She swung her arm around, monofilament wires snapping out with a metallic crack, and brought them down on a washed up car wreck. Wires carved through the frame of the car like paper, scooping up one of the pieces and bringing it to dangle in front of her.

            “You will open the road to a new reality.” The wires lit up, causing the fragments to rust into dust in front of their eyes. “No matter its origins, it is your Quirk. Open yourself to it, and let it work for you.”

Description

Chapter Three: Progression

Five Years Ago…

    Itsuka set the stack of boxes down, shrinking her hands back down to normal size. The sun beat down on the pavement, and the empty moving truck sat outside, their help having departed scant minutes ago for lunch.
            In the continuing pursuit of a sense of normality, her father had decided to open a dojo. Even crippled, he had no small amount of knowledge concerning several martial arts, and his name attracted more than a few students interested in learning from a retired Pro-Hero.
            She looked around the building. The space they had chosen had a large garage that was currently littered with boxes and exercise equipment, all pressed against the walls, and the “office” only had a card table and a folding chair at the moment. The air conditioning was going to be fixed later in the week, so the place smelled strange and was muggy to boot.
            “What do you think, Itsuka?” he asked.
    She sniffed the air, then said “I think we still need to air the place out some more.”
            “Fair enough.” Her father nodded. “In the meantime, since we’re waiting, what do you say we break it in?”
    “What about unpacking?”
    “We’re actually ahead of schedule. The boxes can wait a little while longer, wouldn’t you agree?”
            Itsuka pouted, about to argue, but thought better of it. “Think you’ll make it with just the cane?”
            Her father set his weight fully on his legs. “I may have lost a few steps, but I think that puts me just high enough to give you a proper challenge.” He paused and looked down at the crutch. “Still, probably better keep it on hand.”
            “Good. It makes you look more like those old masters from the movies.” She gave him a teasing smile, which he returned after a second.
            “Heh, I’m not that old,” he said, rolling his eyes exaggeratingly.
            The cane set aside, they walked over where one of the mats had already been laid out. The two bowed to one another and took stances, bending slightly at the knees.
    It was good seeing him standing on his own again, even with the braces helping him. He had spent as much time as able relearning old steps and testing the boundaries of what his physical condition allowed for, and she had trained alongside him, absorbing his lessons like a sponge.
            Her hand expanded, catching his fist it shot out towards her. As expected, he slipped out and countered, throwing her back a few steps, his arms compressing for another strike. Predictably, he didn’t pursue her, opting to stand his ground.
            She followed through the rudimentary motions she had been learning over the last year, taking care not to aim for his legs. That said, he gave better than he was getting, keeping her back and heading off any attempts to close the distance.
    As a Quirk, Big Hands were good for a lot of different things, as was the strength and physical resistance that came with it. But she was not anywhere close to Pro-Hero level, much less one in their prime. Her father had years of experience, and his Quirk was still going strong, and nullified any hits she managed to land.
            Then an opening appeared. Ducking under her father’s next punch, Itsuka darted through and aimed a kick at his side. He leaned away from her kick, then grabbed her leg, holding her in place while her arms pinwheeled comically. Flashing a grin, he relaxed.
            “Good job, Itsuka,” he said, letting go. “Though you should be more cautious with fortuitous openings like that.”
    Settling on their feet, they stood up straight and bowed to each other.
            “I still have a lot to learn,” she replied.
            “It’ll come to you with time…time and plenty of training.”
            Itsuka groaned half-heartedly as he tussled her hair and pulled her in for a hug. His arm stretched to pick his cane up again as Obsidian’s car pulled up, honking to herald the arrival of food.
            “In the meantime, now that we’ve more than worked up an appetite, how about lunch?”

[IB]

            Yuri stood in silence as she sipped from her thermos. Today, her hair was done up in a ponytail instead of the usual braided bun, and she wore a plain, black t-shirt and track pants, her jacket tossed over a broken refrigerator nearby.
            Standing on the beach, her student was flinging the block across the beach with one Quirk, then pulling it back it back with another. Speed was good, especially for a wooden block, and his aim had improved considerably since he had first begun, as had his output control.
            It was a good thing that had started with flinging things out to sea. That first burst had been a shotgun blast and had carved an inlet into the beach.
            “That’s enough for now,” she said. A final Push, and her student leaned back. “You’re getting better at changing gears.”
            Izuku grumbled under his breath, likely frustrated with the slow progress, which Yuri could sympathize with. It was still a long way to go, and so far, they had really only touched on two of his…acquisitions. With Izuku’s unique circumstances, it was best to focus on maintaining the masquerade.
            “Now, about your homework...”
    Izuku Pulled a notebook off the broken table nearby, then handed it to her, then sat down and closed his eyes. Light flickered off of him for a split second, and when he opened his eyes, the sclerae had turned black. Raising a hand, one of the discarded pieces of garbage were Pulled into orbit around him
            Reading through a half-finished analysis notebook, she paced back and forth, periodically adding another object for him to telekinetically juggle when he steadied his balance.
    Getting over his mental blocks had been a trial, but the boy’s long-neglected enthusiasm for studying everything relating to Quirks had swiftly overtaken his initial holdups, as had his determination to see his path through to the end.
            After almost a dozen pages of descriptions and breakdowns of each and every Quirk in his possession, Yuri paused at the blank page that followed.
    “You didn’t list your original Quirk,” she said.
            The blocks gathered in front of Izuku and shot off into the distance, bouncing around the beach or imbedding in assorted junk.
    “It’s not like I’m going to use it,” he muttered.
    “Perhaps, but it’s not going away.”
    Izuku grunted. Not much of a concession from the kid, but it was something she could work on. No therapist in the world would be cleared for this sort of thing, so it fell to her to fill role.
            “Remember what I said when you started?” she asked.
    “’The first step to conquering your fear is understanding what it is that makes you afraid’,” he answered.
    “Your Quirk is a part of you. And in some ways, it is the best weapon in your arsenal, not because of what it does, but what it tells you about your enemy.” She paused, glancing at her student. “I can understand your reluctance to face this, but if you’re to ever reach your full potential, much less face your father, this is all part of the climb.”
    “I know that!”
    Yuri was quiet for a minute, trying to find a way to get through to him. It wasn’t something she usually talked about beyond the vague descriptions, but it was probably the best chance of getting through to him. Taking a breath, she walked around and sat down across from Izuku, tenting her hands in front of her.
    “I’ve killed people before,” she admitted. “Lots of people, actually. I didn’t always use my Quirk. Didn’t always use a gun or blade, or things remotely considered weapons. At least once, I just caused enough racket that the old man killed himself rather than face me.”
    Izuku blinked at her. “Are you going somewhere with this?”
    Raising an eyebrow at her student, Yuri refrained from flicking the kid in the forehead.
    “Having a dangerous Quirk isn’t what makes you dangerous,” she continued. “Your Quirk has its dangers, true; you know that better than anyone. But ignoring that danger does not mitigate it, much less eliminate it. And painting yourself as monster or weapon because of it does you a great disservice.” Another pause, she could see Izuku’s posture shift, if only a little. “You are more than sum of your parts, more than your father’s son, and your past doesn’t have to define you.”
    Pensive, Izuku looked to the ground. “I’ll think about it.”
     “That is something I can work with.”
    Izuku looked up at her again. “How long did it take for you to get a handle on your own Quirk?”
            “The basics? About the time I turned fourteen. Total mastery came closer to twenty.”
            “And’s just one Quirk,” Izuku muttered. “How am I supposed to catch up to someone with centuries of experience?”
    “There are ways,” Yuri replied, sitting up straight. “Perhaps talking it over will give you some ideas. You never did describe how your Quirk works in great detail.”
    Izuku leaned back, staring at the sky. “It’s like I fall into a void. Everything goes black, for the most part. And there’s these lights around me, little stars that I can pull on.”
            “Have you tried using more than one at a time?”
            “No. Aside from Pull, if I use more than one, they all tend to react violently. It took months to get them all to quiet down so I could think straight.”
            “Suppression is not the same thing as control,” she retorted, standing up. “We already have idea of what you’re capable of, the power you are capable of projecting. You just need to master what you have so that your Quirk will do only what you wish and when you will it so.” She pulled at her middle fingernail, drawing a length of metallic wire the width of a fishing line and whipping it around, identical threads extending outward to match. “And when you can look beyond what is evident…”
    She swung her arm around, monofilament wires snapping out with a metallic crack, and brought them down on a washed up car wreck. Wires carved through the frame of the car like paper, scooping up one of the pieces and bringing it to dangle in front of her.

            “You will open the road to a new reality.” The wires lit up, causing the fragments to rust into dust in front of their eyes. “No matter its origins, it is your Quirk. Open yourself to it, and let it work for you.”