Actions

Work Header

You and What Army

Chapter Text

Another picture of them got out. 

This time Nighteye sent it directly to Inko’s DMs on Instagram. It was a screengrab from an article full of wild speculations about All Might’s mystery girlfriend. The picture showed her going after the blood on Toshinori’s face and was captioned in the article with ‘Things they don’t tell you about dating a Pro; they get blood on everything.’

The angle suggested it had been taken by Nedzu. He must have decided it would be helpful in some labyrinthian way. 

Nighteye had drawn an arrow pointing to the blood and a question mark.

Inko rolled her eyes and replied.

Mamadoriya: He says it wasn’t his.

TheSpectacle(s): ...that doesn’t make it better.

Mamadoriya: No, I wasn’t reassured either. 

It wasn’t any special insight granted to her by the Force, but she could still feel the questions Nighteye wanted to ask but felt like he couldn’t for some reason.

She took a picture of Toshinori, asleep on the other end of the couch under a comically undersized throw blanket with his mouth open as he drooled illuminated by the blue light of a paused movie, and sent it.

Mamadoriya: He’s fine.

The Spectacle(s) responded with a phone number and a terse, ‘please text me.’

Inko: What’s bothering you?

She was proud of herself for not adding ‘now.’

Nighteye: How is he sleeping like that? 

Inko: Loudly. 

She would suspect him of having an apnea with how loud the man snored, but it only happened if he slept anywhere except in bed.

Nighteye: You can’t live with him and not know. 

Inko: I do know, but I won’t be discussing it. If you have questions then you should ask Toshinori.

Inko considered her phone. She’d wondered how much Sir Nighteye knew about Toshinori’s recovery. Hisashi had told her that he’d spread word about his recovery among ‘the people who needed to know.’ That, upon reflection, was probably Hisashi’s definition of ‘who needs to know’; i.e. basically no one. It would have been up to Toshinori to tell his personal confidants and at that point he’d been so isolated that… maybe he just hadn’t felt like he had anyone to tell. 

Inko: I think he would like to see you. 

Nighteye: It would end the same way as last time.

Inko: Sometimes we can ignore contentious subjects for a little while in the name of maintaining our relationships. 

Granted, that was not something Nighteye would do of his own volition. He was not the peacekeeping sort. She could almost picture the face he was surely making as his brain threw up logic errors. 

Nighteye: Why were you there?

She rolled her eyes again and sighed. That woke up Toshinori and he blinked blearily at her. 

“I wasn’t sleeping.” He informed her. “You don’t have to pause the movie.”

“I’m sure you weren’t, darling.” She agreed and smiled as his eyes slid shut again. He was snoring again within seconds. 

By ‘there’, Nighteye meant the USJ and Inko had been doing a very good job of not thinking about it. It had been a couple days of bureaucratic hell as Hisashi refused to let her be interviewed by anyone. Members of Y.U.R.E.I. apparently did not talk to the police. It had never been an issue for her before because she was not the type who got caught. Also, Y.U.R.E.I. had been a younger agency in those days without a stable of rules to fall back on. The Black Cards didn’t exist then. 

She hadn’t had any problems with her work for them, but the noise and chaos of the USJ incident had awakened something in her that had been sleeping for a long time. She was spending more time in meditation than usual as a consequence as she worked on her own newly over-sensitized threat responses. She’d done it before after settling on Earth -gently retraining her body to stop reacting as though they were still in the war- and had thought it was a permanent repair. No, apparently it would come back at the slightest provocation. 

Izuku had the resilience of youth, but his anxiety had been through the roof since they were finally released by the authorities. He was only just starting to come back down with the application of time, careful counseling, and his own meditations.

Inko: I would prefer not to speak about that. It was an unpleasant day.

Nighteye: Are you receiving counseling?

The lights flickered on overhead and Izuku stuck his head in. “It’s getting late.” He told her. “Toshinori-san’s sleep alarm is about to go off. Looks like he beat it.” 

Toshinori sat up. “I wasn’t asleep!” He said and then squinted at Izuku. “When did you come in, my boy?”

“Just now.” Izuku got his phone out. “Is school closed tomorrow too?”

“Yes, the investigators want one more day to examine the physical location of that data breach.” Toshinori yawned, kicked off his teeny tiny blanket, and got up before holding a hand out to Inko. “Looks like we’ll have to finish the movie tomorrow night.”

“Guess so.” Inko let him pull her up. 

She forgot about the conversation for a while as they got ready for bed. Toshinori’s nap was enough to keep him from dropping right off like he usually did and they both sat up in bed. Well, he was sitting up. Inko lay on her side with her head pillowed on his thigh. She found she liked this aspect of romance. It was peaceful and grounding. 

She was reminded, though, when she opened Instagram to check her feed.

“Another picture was leaked of us.” She told Toshinori and handed him her phone so he could see it.

“Hmm, I liked that other one better. We’ll be hearing about that in the morning.” He grumped. “Who is ‘TheSpectacle(s)’?”

“Sir Nighteye is on Instagram. He followed me and I followed him back.” She showed him their conversations. “I think he’s worried about you.”

“Not just me.” Toshinori pointed at the last message she’d left on read. “That’s a positive sign. He only nags people he’s interested in.”

“That’s hardly nagging.” She took her phone back. 

“That’s how it starts.” He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think there’s any point in trying? I can’t see how we’ll ever get past the issue of my successor.”

Inko considered the matter and what she’d seen of Nighteye’s mind. “I think the person he wants to have One for All most of all is you.” She glanced up at his stricken face. “Does he know you’re better?”

Toshinori’s hand crept towards his side. “No.” He admitted. “I meant to tell him, but then for a while I thought it wouldn’t make a difference. Afterwards it was too awkward.”

She poked him in the leg. “Tell him.”

“Inko.” Toshinori started to weasel out of it so she poked him again.

“Tell him.” She repeated.

“All right, all right.” Toshinori tossed the book he’d been pretending to read on the nightstand and reached for her. She allowed herself to be pulled up to the head of the bed. Being manhandled by someone wasn’t something she would have foreseen herself enjoying, but here they were. “Have you considered counseling?”

“Who would I talk to?” She asked. It wasn’t that she’d never thought of it. Even among the Jedi Masters there was almost always another, senior master to seek guidance from. It wasn’t quite like therapy, but it served a similar need. She just hadn’t ever met anyone on Earth she trusted enough to be a therapist. “I’d have to spend too much time lying about myself to get any benefit from it. There’s a certain level of cooperation necessary and some of the things I have to talk about stretch the bounds of credulity.”

“I’m pretty sure Akatani would find you someone if you asked.” Toshinori was no more merciful with her than she’d been with him. “I’ve seen Y.U.R.E.I. do something similar for the other retired Black Cards I’ve met. It’s not an easy thing to deal with alone.”

“Hmm.” Inko tried to picture the sort of therapist Hisashi might pick out. “That sounds like it would end in disaster.”

Toshinori made a reluctant noise of agreement. 

Neither of them found sleep easily that night.


His managers actually liked the picture to Toshinori’s consternation because it made Inko look approachable and still like a person with the caliber of nerves necessary to be around a top ranked Pro Hero.

‘Those pictures are telling the right story for leading up to the press release.’ Shimizu said in the teamwide discussion. He was a surprising convert to Inko’s cause. Apparently he was the kind of person who reacted to being frightened by growing some respect and admiration. ‘This’ll make it less of a shock when she shows up in costume standing next to All Might. If she doesn’t have a personal manager then we should probably draw straws. I’ve already gotten three appearance requests from pretty reputable shows and they don’t even know who she is yet.’

Toshinori was catching up on his emails while he waited outside a food truck for four triple-decker gochujang bison cheeseburgers that he needed on a spiritual level given the nature of his next appointment. 

Inko wasn’t wrong. She hadn’t called him a coward, but he could draw the conclusion on his own just fine. 

He’d been putting this conversation off for too long. Even the meeting had been arranged through Liberty, who had liked that not at all. Still, she was willing to trust Inko’s judgement.

They were meeting at Nighteye agency. Mirai had plenty of quiet rooms where they wouldn’t be overheard. Toshinori just needed to eat some of his feelings beforehand. His appetite was finally slowing down. He was almost back up to his peak weight class, but it looked like he was about to pack on some additional muscle mass. It was almost reassuring to understand that this was normal for someone who’d evolved to thrive in heavy gravity. He honestly could have used this when he was in his thirties and still having growing pains, but he’d take a late revelation over none at all.

“Order up for Yagi!” The young lady at the register handed over his giant stack of sandwiches. This was something he loved about living in a world where most of the young adults were Q5 or later. No one batted an eye at what he ate. High calorie quirk demands common. It hadn’t been that way twenty, thirty years ago.

He destroyed two of them before he got to walking. Nighteye agency wasn’t far, but the appointment was soon and he’d been finding excuses to drag his feet all morning. He’d lingered over English homework with young Izuku. Then he’d let himself be distracted by Basil and a surprise visit from D5. He liked the protocol droid and hadn’t gotten to visit with it much. Liberty ended up chasing him out the door. Maybe it was so he wouldn’t miss his meeting, but he got the impression that she also wanted to visit with the droid and he was in the way. 

Toshinori was rounding the corner near Nighteye agency, getting ready to finish his last burger passing by a fabric shop that did something to explain how Inko and Mirai had ended up in each other’s orbits without him knowing about it, when he came face to face with a familiar pair of yellow eyes.

They stared at each other for a minute.

Mirai had his phone out and a folio under one arm. He looked like a salaryman on his lunch break. Jesus.

“I’ll need to call you back.” Mirai said into the receiver before ending his call. “What is that?” He glared at Toshinori’s burger.

“It’s my lunch.” Toshinori held it out of reach.

“That is not part of your diet.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him that Mirai had been on a research bender about what you could and couldn’t eat after a gastrectomy even if they weren’t talking anymore. Technically he could have had a cheeseburger back then too, but digesting it would have given him a boatload of side effects. 

Toshinori had an odd urge right then. He could only blame Inko for being a bad -or perhaps very good- influence on him. Because he took a big bite of his sandwich right in front of Mirai.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove right now.” Mirai pushed up his glasses in a little gesture of annoyance. “You’re the one who’s going to suffer later.”

“I won’t, actually.” Toshinori turned a little to wolf down the rest. 

Mirai had pulled his glasses completely off and was staring when Toshinori turned back. “What do you mean?” He asked, sounding a little faint.

Toshinori patted his stomach. “I got a new one.” He said. “I got a few new things, actually.”

Mirai kept staring. After a while he turned sharply away, put his glasses back on, and said, “...we should take this inside.”

Mirai showed him into the most boring, nondescript Hero Agency Toshinori had ever set foot in. It looked like an office building and matched Mirai’s aesthetic flawlessly. 

No one was around, which made sense. It was prime patrolling time and he’d be out there too except for this meetup and the fact that the HPSC had nervously confirmed what he’d come to suspect; that he interfered with the livelihoods of lower ranked heroes whenever he went out.

A year ago he wouldn’t have taken that very well. A year ago his job was all he had left. 

Today, though... oh no, he had to spend time with his family. How terrible.

They went into a conference room and Mirai closed the door behind him.

“Explain.” He said in a voice like doom incarnate.

“I got some help from Y.U.R.E.I.” Toshinori had spent a long time deciding what story to tell his old compatriots. In the end he didn’t really want to get into the whole ‘aliens’ thing and Inko was determined to keep that part of her past private outside a few people. Anyway, Y.U.R.E.I. was a good scapegoat. They had an eerie way of pulling magic bullet solutions out of empty air when they could be bothered to get involved at all.

Mirai looked skeptical and it wasn’t unjustified. Y.U.R.E.I. was impossible to work with if you didn’t have Akatani around ruthlessly smoothing the path. Their motto was ‘Victory Through Any Means’ but it should have been ‘Sounds Like a You Problem.’ 

“Since when did they decide to become helpful?” He asked                                     

“They want Inko to come back to work.” Toshinori was a little disappointed when Mirai didn’t react. Inko probably hadn’t told him anything, but she must have left him enough breadcrumbs to figure it out himself. On purpose, no doubt. “She’s the one who grew my replacement parts and performed the surgery so cut her some slack.” He deliberately flexed and shot up to his working height. It was a habit, but he switched over to his working voice too and boomed. “A replacement lung, stomach, and about a foot of intestine! I’m nearly back to where I was before the injury!”

That did seem to startle Mirai --either that or it was the fact that Toshinori was suddenly shouting. He dropped his flex and stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

“That isn’t possible.” Mirai’s voice was shaking when he found it, but steadied. “You were skin and bone ten months ago just like you were in my vision.”

“Oh, ah. Yes. About that.” Toshinori cleared his throat. “I’ve --also had a second opinion about the…” He coughed again. “...prophecy issue. I found a specialist.”

“A specialist.” Mirai spat and drew himself up to his full height which was impressive, but still a few inches shorter than Toshinori. “There’s no such thing! You think I haven’t looked? My parents and I spent years trying to find someone to help explain my quirk.”

“She would have been very difficult to find.” Toshinori admitted and then immediately wanted to kick himself as Mirai zeroed in on that pronoun.

“She.” He stepped back. “You mean Midoriya-san is your ‘specialist’ on top of being a surgeon,  transplant specialist, and whatever it is you have to be to walk into my office through a building full of pro heroes without even getting caught by the security cameras?”

“Haha, yes.” He rubbed the back of his head in pleased embarrassment. He hadn’t done too badly for his first time out the gate, had he? “Did she really?” He was going to have to get the rest of that story once he got home. 

“Of all the times for you to suddenly develop the ability to talk to women…” Mirai turned away and took off his glasses in order to rub his eyes. “...I have never been wrong before. I would dearly love to start now, but how possible is that?”

“According to Inko, it’ll get more likely the further out you go and the less you know about your subject. I know you don’t like looking too far ahead so you might not have had the opportunity to notice.” Toshinori went over to stand beside his old friend. “She said that your quirk probably takes into account everything you know or have the information to predict. If she’s correct then I’m guessing that genius intellect of yours has really reduced your number of false positives.”

“Don’t.” Mirai jerked away. “Don’t try to give me hope if you’re not sure.”

Alright. He was going to have to use one of his trump cards. Toshinori had expected it would come to this though. “Do you want to take another look?”

Mirai glared at him. “What are you trying to accomplish?” He asked. “Your girlfriend made it very clear what would happen.”

“Consider this my explicit consent.” He was ready to believe. He just needed to get Mirai on the same page. So he elbowed the man like he used to and said. “Go ahead.”

One of Mirai’s eyes flickered purple very briefly as he glared and rubbed his arm, but he shut his eyes almost at once and staggered back like someone had shone a light directly in his face. “I can’t. You’re like her now. The same thing happened in the penthouse. I can’t see anything.” He wheezed and scrubbed at his eyes. “It’s like looking into the sun.”

That… that could mean any number of things. Either his future was unchanged and Mirai just couldn’t see it anymore or it had changed and Inko’s presence in his life meant that no part of it could be predicted anymore. 

He was kind of banking on that last option. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think of that.” Toshinori spotted a tiny mini-fridge over by the window and sure enough, just like their old agency, it had ice packs in it. Civilians want water during meetings. Heroes want ice therapy. He brought Mirai one for his eyes. “Apparently her quirk contraindicates yours.”

“...and vice versa, it seems.” Mirai took himself over to a chair and collapsed it in. “How interesting to know I have a natural enemy.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Toshinori chuckled. “More like a sister you never knew about.”

Mirai removed the ice pack to glare at him.

Toshinori started counting off points on his fingers. “She hates attention. She thinks costumes are stupid, but she’s too polite to say it your face. She’s got an evil sense of humor and you’d never know it until she’s laughing at you. Her temper sneaks up on you too. The calmer she gets the more trouble you’re in. Does any of this sound familiar?”

“No.” Mirai lied. “I was an only child.”

Obviously, but Toshinori didn’t point that out.

You’d never guess how emotional Mirai was until you really got to know him. He had a bulletproof poker face, but his loyalty -once given- couldn’t be shifted. He was still giving Toshinori his time even after everything that had gone down between them and he was willing to bet anything that Mirai still had his ultra-rare All M merch collection on shameless display somewhere in this building.

“You already like her.” Seven years ago Toshinori would have bopped him on the head for emphasis. It was pretty clear to Toshinori that Mirai had not benefited from their separation any more than he did. Someone had to let the air out of his balloon every so often and his sidekicks weren’t up to the task. “Quit lying. I saw your texts.”

“She’s showing you her texts?” Mirai had never dated past highschool, long enough to acknowledge he hated the entire process, but he probably knew enough to recognize that as a warning sign in a relationship. Usually it was one partner being forced to share their conversations though. This was different. She just showed him stuff she didn’t feel like explaining.

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows that’s not normal.” For his part, Toshinori liked the artless gesture of trust and tried to reciprocate in kind. “She’s… got a complicated background.”

“She would almost have to.” Mirai set the ice pack aside. “I won’t change my opinion regarding One for All. Nedzu has shared videos from the first years’ training sessions with me. Midoriya isn’t even using what he’s been given. How can you accept that?”

Ah. Toshinori tried to sit on the proud feelings bubbling up inside. 

He was actually very happy with young Izuku’s performance so far. He was a good problem solver and the kind of teammate that was easy to work with. That was something some people didn’t learn even after graduation.

Everyone in the first year classes had some sort of character flaw to work past; be it ego, a lack of confidence, misplaced passions, or something else harder to define. Young Izuku struggled with confidence a bit, but Toshinori understood his particular issues with imposter syndrome better than anyone else possibly could have. He knew what it was like to hide a diagnosis of quirklessness.

Izuku had no idea how well he was doing.

“He doesn’t have it yet so --pretty easily.” Toshinori itched behind one ear to hide the way he always wanted to smile when he was reminded of the fact that pretty soon he’d have a family; a public family. 

He stopped though when he noticed the stricken look on Mirai’s face.

“I’m back in fighting condition, Mirai.” Toshinori explained gently. “The only reason I’m not on the streets is because I committed to three years at UA. I’m drowning in grading and course planning most nights. Young Izuku has the right conditioning, but now that we have the luxury of time I want to see if he grows anymore.”

The next part was a little harder to say. He’d always let people think that One for All was the quirk he was born with. Mirai and Nedzu knew a bit more. They’d been involved with his final showdown with All for One and that old monster sure liked to run his mouth. They knew it was an old quirk that had passed through multiple people, but he hadn’t shared with them just how much of a distinct entity it had become over the years.

“It’s not really up to either of us anymore.” He said. “Do you remember what I told you about the vestiges?”

“No, since you hardly told me anything.” Mirai frowned. “You said that there were echoes of the previous holders of One for All and you used to dream about them.”

“More than that.” Toshinori admitted. “When I was younger I would see them sometimes. They weren’t malicious or anything. They just watched me. I didn’t see them again once the quirk settled… until now.”

It had only been a few brief flickers of black in the corner of his eye, but the longer he spent around his heir the more they appeared. That morning though, he’d seen one of the black silhouettes watching young Izuku during morning warm ups; which for Izuku was running up one wall and seeing how far across the ceiling he could get without falling. 

The shadow had the thin, sickly look of the original One for All. It had turned to him and winked one of its luminous white eyes. Toshinori had felt a sort of wistful paternal approval then that didn’t belong to him before it vanished. 

“I’ve been seeing them around Young Izuku.” Toshinori turned away with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I think it already made its decision. I wouldn’t try to put it anywhere it doesn’t want to go. It’s jumped hosts before.” Granted, it had done that when its current host was in danger of dying. He wouldn’t put it past One for All to do it on purpose.

“I thought you said it was a quirk.” Mirai got to his feet, concern had washed away all his anger. “That sounds more like an intelligent symbiote.”

“Well, it’s got the memories of seven people uploaded into it, more or less. Eight, eventually.” Toshinori shrugged. “Inko thinks it was actively fighting my decline in health over the past few years. The doctors missed something after that fight with Toxic Chainsaw --or the fight before that. I had this thing growing in my wound. We thought it was just scar tissue, but it was manufacturing microscopic bits of poison and injecting them into me. Young Izuku was the one who noticed it and figured out One for All was quarantining the poison. That’s how I met his mother. He dragged me home to make her look at it. All he knew for certain was that something was wrong.”

He rubbed his side thoughtfully.

“Recently I ran into a group of suspiciously well funded villains who seemed to know that I’d been struggling. Given that and everything else, I’ve decided against passing on One for All for the time being. Whoever these people are either were involved with All for One or someone who was. This isn’t the time to get children involved.”

He was expecting pushback and was surprised when he got none. 

“Perhaps.” Mirai was frowning in thought. “I would like to hear more about that bioweapon. Are you sure that it was Toxic Chainsaw?”

That had been Toshinori’s first big fight without Mirai on the team and after he’d been released from the hospital. He’d been in a lot of pain, upset about losing his most trusted confidant, and in total denial about both. That had made him reckless and a little stupid. It would have been the perfect opportunity to slip something past his guard.

“Reasonably.” Toshinori allowed. “It’s in the same vein as his abilities --especially if he shot up with Trigger. That crap still pops up sometimes. I never liked his reasons for attacking New York. He didn’t get anything out of it except jail time. He’s not a planner, but I’ve heard that he used to  take commissions.”

“That would require a mastermind with a very long view.” Mirai pointed out quietly.

It would and Toshinori had only ever met one person with that sort of terrible, abiding patience. All for One was dead --in theory. With all this going on, Toshinori wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 

“All the more reason to hold off for now.” Toshinori looked around. “I like your place.”

“No you don’t.” Mirai snorted. “Quit lying.”

“I like it for you.” Toshinori nodded, acknowledging the hit. “I’ve been keeping up with your work. You’ve built up a solid investigative agency.”

“Likewise.” Mirai turned away. “The penthouse is slightly less terrifying than it was when you moved in.”

He couldn’t help his wince. “Yeah, I… wasn’t able to keep a firm hand on my managers’ reins in the past few years. I’ve been having to clean up a lot of things.”

More than he cared to discuss, really. His charitable-giving officers hadn’t been vetting everyone soliciting donations from him as well as they could have. He was surprised to find out he’d been supporting a number of causes that were antithetical to his own values. His merchandisers had an embarrassing number of outstanding invoices. They’d always been Net30 on the dot, but in recent years it was more like Net90 or -worse- Net ‘Of course the check is in the mail, why would you doubt us?’ He hated stiffing his contractors.

His company had lost people since he’d re-started performing spot checks on the people who weren’t regularly in his line of sight. He hadn’t found evidence of anything worse than some slacking off, but he’d still had to hire some internal watchdogs just to make sure things got back onto track and stayed there. Liberty was getting in on the action too; watching the watchmen, as it were.

“That’s quite clear. Your spring line was a mess.”

Toshinori huffed a laugh. “I already heard that from my kid, although he did try to spare my feelings.” He didn’t realized he’d goofed until Mirai failed to respond and the silence took on a hideous quality. Toshinori’s whole body flashed hot. “I! I meant!”

Mirai’s expression was unreadable. “Midoriya-san said you weren’t the father of her child.”

He hadn’t been aware that was in question. Toshinori hadn’t lived in Japan for thirty years and Inko had never left the island.

“I’m… not?” His voice cracked. “Ah… I...um.”

“What did you do?” Mirai advanced on him. 

“She said yes?” Toshinori retreated, but there wasn’t far to go. Mirai got him by one of his bangs and hauled him down to face level so there was no escaping the furious tic under his eye. Toshinori blurted out, “Do you want to be my best man? Wait, crap, that’s not how I was going to ask…”

Mirai pinched his sinuses and let him go. “Yes, obviously, but you two aren’t even public yet.” He squinted as something caught up to him. “You’re doing a western ceremony? Midoriya-san seemed like a very traditional type of person to me.”

There weren’t wedding ceremonies where Inko came from and Toshinori had been raised aggressively agnostic. Neither of them had a relevant tradition and kimonos gave Inko unnecessary stress, apparently, so their only real option was a big western to-do. 

“She likes glitter and ribbons.” Toshinori chuckled. “There’s nothing more sparkly than a western wedding dress. That was a yes?”

“As I said, obviously.” Mirai drew himself up stiffly, but Toshinori detected a note of pleasure in the turn of his mouth. “You have my congratulations. What? Stop!” He growled as Toshinori threw an arm over his shoulder, got him in a headlock, and gave him a noogie while laughing.

The conference door opened and a blonde highschooler stuck his head in. “Everything all right in here… Sir?” He squinted at the tableau in front of him before his eyes popped wide open in the expression Toshinori had come to know well.

Mirai threw him off. “Why are you like this!?” 

“Ha, you still like me.” Toshinori chuckled and hooked a thumb at the boy. “That your intern?”

“Why is anyone’s guess and also yes.” Mirai gestured. “Mirio, come in and meet an old friend of mine.”

“Sir.” Mirio whispered with a frozen smile. “That’s All Might.” He said it like he wasn’t sure Mirai knew and started oonching back out into the hallway. 

What an amusing kid! No wonder Mirai liked him so much.