injuries given in the entrance exam, thoughts of abandonment, implications on death in what-if scenarios, self-depreciation, mention of obsession, talk about how to handle injuries, attempted murder, fighting,,, i think that's it

please let me know if there's more! this is a relatively soft chap compared to the others (besides viridian) so !!!

===

Tommy one-hundred percent, with no doubt in his mind, regrets letting All Might and Izuku stay.

Izuku looks like he fucking saw hell and ran back, and Tommy would've laughed if he could.

"All Might," Tommy begins, tone deadly serious. "Big T, Toshinori, old man, the number one fucking hero in Japan and probably everywhere else you've been." He breathes, "What the absolute fuck."

"It doesn't really matter what it is as long as Young Midoriya takes my DNA," All Might states, scratching his weird gravity-defying hair as he laughs. His hand, holding a strand of what Tommy once thought of was gelled hair (it actually defies the laws of gelled because its not gelled up, the strands are just like that, what the fuck — ) looks so fucking minuscule to the shit that Tommy expected.

He expected lights or some shit. Flashiness, spazz; anything even if it made the blond flinch compared to how melodramatic this was. Because for a quirk as powerful as One for All? Prime, this makes it so criminally easy for someone to get it.

He says as such. "Old man," Tommy closes his eyes, exasperated, "do you know how many people could've just had OFA with your hair like that." The statement is rhetorical; he barrels on. "Sure, like a majority of most aren't suited, but you go out and destroy crime literally all across Japan for fucks sake. There's more than eight billion people in the world, at least thirty fucking percent of them have done harder training than Big I, and a few of those people may have your DNA somewhere because you've saved them — they might have OFA and you wont know. The day your hair starts falling out and you're balding is your official retirement arc."

And at that, All Might seems to not care. He laughs joyously, completely avoiding the question which, wow, what the fuck. "Now, Young Midoriya," he says, ignoring Tommy, though he does seem a bit panicked, "there's no time to waste! You'll be late for the exam!"

And, oh. The blond's finger's twitch. Oh, that's a thing. The reason why any of this happened. This is when, despite everything, Izuku leaves.

Izuku snaps out of his confusion out of his peripheral vision. He blinks, before looking at All Might with determination. "R-Right!"

Tommy looks away as he plucks the strand, cringing when he can hear the freckled teen swallow. "All right!" All Might rejoices, as if it's an accomplishment, which honestly? It really is — Tommy wouldn't do that even if it was for... past Wilbur. "You swallowed the hair, right?" Prime, he's so glad he isn't Izuku.

"I-I don't feel any different, though..."

All Might laughs. "Of course not! What do you think the stomach does? Well, you'll feel something in about two to three hours."

"I'm so nervous..." Izuku murmurs, "I need to hurry back, shower, and eat breakfast."

"You've become a proper vessel, but it was one that was made in a hurry," All Might states out of nowhere. "You didn't even get to take it for a test-drive... Prepare yourself for the physical repercussions it'll have on your body."

Izuku hums, looking down in contemplative silence. "I don't have time to explain in detail, so I'll just tell you this." All Might glances at his protege, "When you use my quirk, One for All, squeeze your buttocks and yell this inside your heart — "

All Might reels his fist back towards Takoda.

"SMASH!"

Propelling forward, his fist brings a whirlwind with it, making a groove where clean sand once was. It shoves through the surface, kicking sand up, and soon water joins the mix. The oceans part for the blast of power, raging waves turning to ripples on its sides. For a good thirty seconds, it keeps going until it disperses with a whisper.

Silence fills the trio as they face the sun. Then, Tommy snorts, but it's a bit bland even to his ears. "Could've gone with something else, old man. I don't do speeches — " he pauses there, shoving any thoughts of his friends (?) away before he continues, "I don't do speeches, but buttocks? Out of everything, you fucking choose buttocks?"

"You use phrases like that too," Izuku points out. "Like calling me an 'awe-inducing, partially lovable cockroach that burrows into you and never gets out.'"

"I fucking know that, but I'm me — Ass Might is old, he should know more old people words." Then, quietly, enough to make it heard only by him, "Philza Minecraft doesn't count."

"Anyway, c'mon, Big Man," he says as casually as he can, watching as Izuku shrugs his bag on, "get going." The green haired teen notices his inner turmoil anyway, the observant fucker. Or maybe he's just bad at acting.

Yeah. Wilbur's always said that about him, back before the Dream SMP.

"Tommy?" He asks, concern etched into his face, "Is there s-something wrong?"

As much as he doesn't want to admit, it'd be reasonable for Izuku to just leave him now. He's finished training, there's no use to stay here. Who'd want to stay with someone like Tommy? No one did. He doesn't even want to stay with himself, and that's something.

Izuku's eyes widen like he already knows why Tommy's acting — Prime, he's too fucking observant. "Hey," the freckled teen whispers, walking close enough to Tommy so that he can hug him. "'M not gonna abandon you or betray you o-or any of it. Gonna come back as soon as I can, okay?"

Reluctantly, Tommy hugs back, barely restraining himself from melting in despite the height difference. "You swear?"

"Yeah."

Tommy shakily exhales. It'll have to be enough.

Pulling away, the blond grins, patting Izuku's shoulder. He takes out three golden apple slices from his inventory, taking Izuku's hands and setting them there. "Eat those when you're severely hurt."

Izuku scrunches his face, thankfully not questioning it (and he'll never admit it, bit that show of trust absolutely warms Tommy up.) "'When?' Not 'if?'"

"Knowing you, you'd probably do something to get yourself hurt regardless if you don't use OFA or do." Tommy chortles at the other's expression.

"You can't say anything, Tommy!" Izuku claims, sulking regardless.

Tommy grins, falling back into the partially solemn mood. "Kick everyone's ass, alright?"

The One-for-All protege snorts. "Yeah, I'll try, Tommy. You would kicked mine if I didn't." He moves over to where the rest of his stuff is and picks it up, including his shoes. Then, tapping All Might's shoulder, the man smiles and hoists the teen up like he's nothing. Tommy's unfazed by the sight, having seen it hundreds of times before.

"I'll see you in a bit, Tommy!" Izuku calls, gripping one of All Might's gravity-defying hair streaks, whatever those were.

The blond grins. "Don't die, dickhead!"

"I won't!"

They launch off, and now? Now, Tommy plays the waiting game for the nth time.

===

Tommy tugs on his hair, glancing to the entrance of Takoda every so often. It's around eleven in the morning, another off-day from Tari due to a lame excuse (Prime, Tommy doesn't deserve his job there.) According to Izuku, the exams usually take a few hours due to both a written and practical test, and he wasn't going to use OFA much. The examinees were usually against giant fucking robots or something, for the most part. Hence why he gave Izuku a few golden apple slices.

But that isn't the point. Tommy knows that the self-sacrificing nerd would literally throw himself into danger — the blond teen does that, too, but he was a part of war where he had to protect what he loved, and that doesn't count. He just.

How far would Izuku go? Hours ago (maybe even weeks, but he's truly acknowledging it now), Tommy had realized that the freckled teen would die twice over to save his friends, family, and any innocent bystander. He'd sacrifice himself for the hero system despite how shitty it is. Hell, Izuku would become Atlas — Tommy hides the flinch that follows with a cough, even though no one's watching — for the world even if it were on fire.

That trait includes something as trivial as an entrance exam. Except, this one has robots that are actually fucking dangerous.

Tommy snaps out of it, hauling some more trash and junk over to train with from the small pile he and Tommy screamed at — a large punchbag stand with an actual punching bag hanging from the top, probably one he's fixed before. It's ripped at some parts, whatever it was stuffed with spilling from the seams, but it's hanging and it'll have to be enough; Tommy will make it enough.

He spins Clara in between his fingers, relishing the gust of wind that comes with that cools his skin, and gets in his stance. With quick, agile swings, he strikes the bag in where he estimates a human's weaknesses are; a pressure point there, the gut here, solar plexus just above, the bridge of the nose just about here and the eyes near it there and there. The hits are as accurate and efficient as he can make them, the constant thwap of a hit becoming white noise.

But it isn't enough to settle his anxiety, this underlying paranoia that claws at his thoughts and makes him hesitate. U.A. must have some expert medic or potion-brewer to pull shit as risky as literal battle robots, yet. What if they aren't fast enough? What if they underestimate someone's strength and the robots pummel them? What if they go rogue due to a security breach? The school must be a prime target for those experienced or courageous enough to try shit, but that doesn't dismiss the possibility of something happening.

(What if the golden apple slices aren't enough? What if they're too advanced or too much for the people in this server, because as far as he knows no other golden apples exist besides his? What if Izuku is ripped away from him, just like how Life has taken everything else? Like how it took Tubbo and Wilbur and Techno and Phil and Dream [well, he was nice. But no, wait — he isn't, never was, he's hurt him so much just to manipulate him — so why does Tommy miss him so dearly? He can't find the answer] and even himself —

And Tommy can't — can't handle something like that again. Can't handle a loss so grand; can't handle a betrayal, even if accidental, that runs too deep; can't handle another broken promise, another person he's failed. He just can't.)

The blond teen slams Clara into the side of the bag, shakily breathing as he watches it swing from side to side. The chains that suspend it are twisting, swiveling around itself, an entrancing show that captures Tommy's eyes. Its rings clink, clink, clink, and he makes himself focus on that. Focuses on the rocking, steady swings that are akin to a beat. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.

Tommy breathes. Finds a steady rhythm in his heart, latches onto it with broken nails and numb fingertips, and thinks about safety.

...He won't have that for a bit, really. Takoda's clean now; this can't be his base or home. People will start to visit, laying towels on the fresh sand and splash around in the waves, or bring drinks and food and a party. They'll see him, probably as a homeless nobody, and maybe take him to the authorities or something.

He needs to find a place to live. Potentially at Izuku's? Tommy still hasn't visited — no, his monumental fear of rejection prevented that for a bit, him making excuses to stall for time that sound horrid to himself. Still, the freckled teen said that his mom was kind, and Tommy doesn't remember his temporary one enough to know what that feels like, but she had to be better than Phil.

Yet he'd feel so guilty for just... Suddenly appearing, another mouth to feed, another person to spend money on, another liability. And people usually don't like how loud he is, how childish he acts and all of his emotions and trauma. No one knows how to handle it — Tommy himself doesn't know how to tackle it, and that was even with Puffy's therapy, for fucks sake. Izuku might, but Tommy can't risk his only best friend in this place. Adding his trust issues, and that's practically impossible. He's impossible; maybe that's why Dream was so obsessed with him.

The blue-eyed teen sighs, adjusting his eyepatch and putting his forehead on Clara's upright end. It's uncomfortable, the flattened, circular metal digging into his forehead, but fuck that. He's just so tired of worrying, yet he can't help it.

Tommy hates it.

"Suck it up," Techno once said — harsh, but true. "In war, you would die. We — you and Wilbur are leading a revolution, a resistance, and that is infinitely more harder than war. Mostly everyone you know is against you. Any moment of weakness on the battleground, no matter how much it hurts, is fatal. It's how the world is — how the language of violence is spoken."

(Sometimes, Tommy thinks under the shining night skies and pinpricks of light that he can't truly absorb the language of violence. He fights, sure — but that's last when it comes to everything else; a backup plan if all else goes wrong. And yet despite once inhabiting the house of the Angel of Death and the Blood God; despite once friendly sparring with the Masked Apotheosis; despite even learning how to fight from them all — Tommy is, ultimately, not good at combat as he should be.

So he resorts to it in his last moments, when all else is futile and yet because Tommy is stubborn, stubborn, stubborn, he wants to keep going. To see everything he does to the end, even if he dies.

Yes, Tommy is not built for the language of violence, he decides, the cacophony of guttural sounds and cries of agony woven between bearing too much weight on himself. Techno is made for it like a glove, however — all sharp edges and cutting ends, because he is the Blood God. He knows he can win with violence more than anything.)

Tommy grunts, gets back to his feet and bolts towards the punching bag.

===

It's three in the fucking afternoon.

"— t-those apple slices helped a lot! I may have, uh, used OFA during the exam — andbrokemyarmaswellasbothofmylegs — but that isn't the point! Recovery Girl healed me up and the apples made it hurt less! Speaking of her, she's the t-third hero I've met in-person! The second is Present Mic — and gosh, have I ever told you — "

It's three in the fucking afternoon, and this is when the bastard gets here? Tommy gapes at the fucking audacity of his friend (friend! One he can trust in this unknown world), standing near a decimated punching bag with Clara as he deciphers the hastily-spewed phrase. He almost drops her, yelping as he struggles to pick her up correctly. What the fuck, Izuku's sense of priorities is screwed. Instead of — fucking — Tommy doesn't know, but he wants anything but Izuku casually walking up with bandages around his scars and starting a rant.

The blond halts the other's rant with a bonk to the back of his green head of hair. "Fuck you," he murmurs with disdain, "fuck you and your fucking habits and your stupid recklessness." Flinging himself around Izuku, Tommy forced him into a hug, still quietly cursing at him. "Fuck you, I hate you, you aren't allowed to do this shit to me you fucking wrongun — "

"Ah." Izuku laughs merrily, as if he didn't break like three-fourths of his fucking body, "Sorry, Tommy, for worrying you. R-Recovery Girl withheld me from going here or home because she wanted to make sure I was really doing alright — scars and all. But! I have good news! ...And some bad news, but good news first!"

Tommy doesn't let go; however, he does raise his eyebrow in a silent gesture to go on. Izuku rambles, "I destroyed this huge r-robot — it was named the zero-pointer — made to be a distraction for all the other examiners with OFA! It's another part of why I was held back, too — had to recover my stamina because R-Recovery Girl took most of it healing me. I also got free juice, which is pretty poggers!

"And I talked to a girl that w-wasn't my mom. She was nice, y'know? I tripped on the pathway to the exam — hey, don't think I can't see you grinning — and she use her quirk so that I didn't truly fall. Helped me so that I didn't break the rest of my bones — oh, her quirk's something to do with gravity manipulation — as well, and she thanked me for helping her in the nurse's office! And I — well, I've never gotten that before, and I didn't know how to react so I made a fool of myself, like usual.

"I'm not too sure if this part's good news, but Kaccha — " Tommy scoffs. "Right, right — I'll say B... Bakugo; are you happy now? Anyways, B-Bakugo was less aggressive than usual. Didn't shout at me as much, or hit me, or anything, just like the entirety of the year after the Sludge Incident. It was weird because I thought he'd snap seeing me actually... trying, but maybe it was because we were on U.A. and it probably has cameras everywhere.

"Onto the bad news. I — I used all the apple slices. Those were probably precious resources because they really boosted me when it came to the zero-pointer — maybe you could tell me what they do? Because man, I felt like I was on a power rush! My limbs were less purple and twisted than I expected thanks to them, and they even regenerated my bones quicker, apparently! I was unconscious when they did, thankfully. Ow, ow, loosen the grip a bit — thanks.

("Regeneration on wounds that are fatal," Niki once said, having known the most about first-aid and wounds out of the entirety of L'Manburg's army. She'd wrapped Tommy's arms in bandages soaked in regeneration potions, talking to keep the younger blond's mind off of his wounds. "Healing on regular wounds."

"Regeneration heals what's most vital first — organs, bones, things like that. Then it moves up and up, like to the muscles, then tissue, then skin. Healing is bad for fatal wounds because it generalizes what it heals." A hiss, a curse; Niki barrels on. "Like, it would heal any damage from the organs, bones, muscles, tissue, skin and everything in between at once — it doesn't completely heal a fatal wound, unless you overdose. Potion overdose and its withdrawal is highly disorientating, hence why regeneration is better for things like this."

"Done!" Tommy ripped his bandaged arm away and glared at the white plaster and its little bow to tie it off. The woman nodded with satisfaction out of the corner of his eye. "C'mon," she smiled, "we have a home to fight for.")

"I also... didn't get many points. Well, none at all, really. Couldn't do much without a quirk; the bots were too fast for me to disable them or something. Adding onto that, one of the participants — blue hair, serious eyebrows, glasses, formal speech mannerisms, rigid posture — already dislikes me. I just... I hope Shiketsu's exams are still open, and that they're easier."

Izuku sighs, leaning into Tommy's embrace, "I think that's it. I came here as soon as possible — mom doesn't know that I'm here, just that I may still be recovering. Visit?"