Reverberate by Kamiko

Epic MHA/BNHA Fanfic! 💚 Izuku Midoriya & OC Aiko Takara 💙 https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256

[izuaiko]

💫 Reverberate - a BNHA Story

✨ What if the reason Izuku never chased anyone at U.A. was because he already had someone? Someone no one ever saw… until now. ✨

I’m currently posting my BNHA fanfic Reverberate, an intense romance between Izuku Midoriya and my OC, Aiko Takara—a girl with her own mission, her own arc, and her own reasons for staying hidden.

Because she was always there—just off-screen—supporting him, loving him from the shadows while the spotlight stayed on everyone else.

Reverberate follows Izuku and Aiko from middle school through U.A., the war, the vigilante arc, and beyond—through love, sacrifice, and the secret that changes everything.

Every chapter includes original manga-style art, and the full story spans multiple arcs, timelines, and turning points.

📅 Release Schedule:

New chapters every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday — with accompanying art.

📖 Read now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

🌟 More art + extras: https://izuko.moe

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 20: What I've Seen In You All Along

“…Thank you,” he said. “For being here. For believing in me. For helping me clean this beach, and for…” His voice hitched. “Just… for everything.”

Izuku stepped forward and pulled her into a hug—tight, close, like he never wanted to let go.

Aiko wrapped her arms around him just as tightly. Her eyes fluttered closed as her cheek pressed against his bare chest, the warmth of him grounding her.

Then—without warning—Izuku laughed under his breath, seized by a sudden rush of giddy relief. His arms tightened and, before he could think better of it, he lifted her clean off the ground and spun her once.

A startled gasp-laugh burst out of her, hands clinging to his shoulders. “I-Izuku!”

He set her down, breathless and flushed, his hands still at her waist.

Their eyes caught and held—hers wide with surprise, lips parted in a startled smile; his eyes darker, steadier, lit with something that made her pulse stutter. His chest rose and fell against hers, each breath quicker than the last.

Neither of them moved.

Slowly—like gravity itself was pulling them closer—they leaned in. His fingers flexed lightly at her waist. Her hands slid up over his shoulders, sending a shiver through him.

He couldn’t look away. Every detail pulled him in—the soft shine of her eyes, the way her breath hitched, the faint tremble of her lashes as she blinked. The distance between them dwindled, hearts hammering so hard it felt like the air itself was caught in the rhythm.

And then it happened.

A faint crackle split the air. Green sparks shimmered to life along his arms, crawling over his biceps and brushing against her fingertips where they rested on him. The space between them thrummed, alive, charged with a pulse neither of them had expected.

Aiko’s breath caught, her fingers tightening against him. “Izuku…” she whispered.

He stared at his own arms, wide-eyed, trembling as the glow flickered and died away. “D-did I—? Was that—?”

Her lashes fluttered, and tears welled thick in her eyes, brimming until one slipped free, tracing the curve of her cheek. She gave a small, breathless laugh through the shimmer. “That was you.”

Izuku jolted, staring at her like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “M-My… my quirk?!”

For a beat they just stared at each other—wide-eyed, stunned—until matching grins broke free, laughter bubbling up between them.

Then he suddenly let out a shout, unable to hold it in. “I—I have a quirk!!!”

Before she could blink, he swept her up again—arms firm around her waist—and spun her in dizzy circles, faster this time, laughter tearing out of him, wild and unrestrained. Aiko squealed, clinging to him as the beach blurred around them.

“Eeeeeee!!! You have a quirk, Izuku!!!” she laughed, voice bright and breathless as she threw her head back, giggles spilling into the air.

He spun her once more before setting her back down, both of them unsteady, breathless, laughing so hard it hurt. Sparks still flickered faintly at his fingertips, caught between them like fireworks.

She felt him exhale, slow and steady. His shoulders loosened slightly, like her presence had calmed him. He held her there a moment longer, then lifted one hand, nudging her hat back just enough before dipping his head and pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

The faintest shiver traced her spine, her fingers curling just slightly against his bare skin. For a heartbeat she stayed there, cheek pressed to his chest, the warmth of him surrounding her. Then, slowly, she tilted her head back, eyes lifting to meet his.

Her voice came soft, steady. “You were my hero before you had a quirk,” she whispered. “Now… the world finally gets to see what I’ve seen in you all along.”

💫 Read the full chapter now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 19: Ooh! Sparklers!

Just as he stepped back, Aiko turned—and soft gasp escaped her lips.

“Ooh! Sparklers!”

She motioned to a small stall nearby where a group of kids were already lighting thin, golden sticks that sparked and crackled in the crisp night air.

“Can we get some? Please?”

She was already halfway toward the booth, turning back just long enough to flash him an eager grin.

Izuku blinked, then laughed softly. “I guess we’re getting sparklers.”

Aiko jogged ahead, boots crunching in the slush as she reached the booth. She fumbled with her purse, pulling off one glove with her teeth to dig for coins. But before she could find them, the vendor was already handing over two sets of sparklers—straight to Izuku.

She blinked, glancing up in surprise as he stepped up beside her, a little out of breath.

“I—hey! I was gonna—”

He just smiled and shrugged, slipping the change into his pocket. “Too slow,” he murmured.

Aiko let out a quiet laugh, her breath curling in the cold air. She shook her head fondly. “I’m gonna pay for something one day, you know.”

Izuku smiled, the warmth in her voice easing the nerves in his shoulders. He looked down at the bundle in his hands, then pulled one of the slender sticks free and held it out to her.

“Here,” he said gently. “They light pretty fast, so be ready.”

Aiko took it carefully, her eyes shining with anticipation. “I’ve never actually used one before.”

He blinked. “Wait—seriously?”

She shook her head, already crouching near the flame the stallkeeper had left burning in a tiny ceramic bowl. “Nope. I always wanted to, though.”

Her sparkler came to life with a bright hiss, her eyes going wide as it flared and crackled in her hand.

“Ohhh… it’s so pretty!” she whispered, grinning like a kid.

He crouched beside her, holding his own sparkler to the flame. The tip caught with a sharp fizz, sending a spray of golden sparks into the air.

They stood slowly, still watching the golden sparks trail off in looping streaks. Aiko waved hers through the air in slow circles, then quick flicks, giggling as the light traced shapes in the dark.

Izuku copied her movements, their sparklers leaving tangled trails that shimmered and faded.

“Let’s make them kiss,” she said suddenly, holding hers up like a sword.

Izuku blinked. “Uh—what?”

She bumped her sparkler gently against his, sending a small burst of sparks between them.

“See?” she said, smiling. “Now they’re in love.”

His laugh came soft and helpless. “That’s… really cute.”

But something in his face shifted as the sparks danced between them. His gaze lingered—not on the sparklers, but on her. Like something quiet and real had settled into his chest and caught him off guard.

He shifted slightly, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket. “Hold still,” he said, lifting it. “Let’s get a picture before they burn out.”

Aiko leaned in close, her cheek brushing his shoulder. They held the sparklers up, little suns between them, and smiled as the shutter clicked.

💫 Read the full chapter now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 18: The Hero I See

The dinner table was simple but inviting. Aiko sat opposite Izuku, beside her granddad, who settled into his seat with a quiet grunt. Across from him, Inko smiled warmly as she set down a final plate of stir-fried vegetables.

“It’s not fancy,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel, “but I hope it’s alright.”

Aiko’s eyes swept across the table. Bowls of rice, glistening tempura mushrooms, crisp tofu skewers, rolled omelets, and miso soup with wisps of green onion and seaweed. Off to one side sat a smaller dish of grilled fish—clearly separate. The effort didn’t go unnoticed.

“It looks amazing,” she said quietly.

“It really does,” Tetsurō added with a small nod of approval. “Smells like an actual restaurant.”

Inko beamed, a little flustered. “Ahh, thank you! I wasn’t sure what you both liked, so I just… tried to keep most of it veggie.”

She poured tea into the small ceramic cups in front of them. “Hoshino-san,” she said kindly, “Aiko mentioned you’re a blacksmith?”

Tetsurō gave a small nod, adjusting his chopsticks. “That’s right. I do mostly custom work these days—tools, fittings, the occasional commissioned piece. Nothing flashy.”

Inko smiled. “That’s so impressive. I’ve only seen things like that at festivals or in museums.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, the work’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Lots of soot and bad knees.”

Aiko nudged him gently. “And beautiful pendant repairs.”

He gave her a mock-stern look, but there was warmth in it. “That was a one-time exception.”

Inko’s eyes lit up. “Is that the necklace you’re wearing? It’s lovely.”

Aiko instinctively touched the gear pendant at her collarbone, fingers brushing the sapphire. “It was broken. He fixed it for me and replaced the blue bead with a sapphire.”

Inko leaned in, eyes bright. “It’s beautiful. And so unique—it really suits you.”

Izuku glanced at her, then at Aiko—his voice quieter. “Yeah, it… brings out your eyes.”

Aiko looked up at him.

Their eyes met, and lingered.

The air between them shifted… slowed. Her breath caught just slightly. And Izuku, so often flustered, didn’t look away. He just looked at her, smiling softly.

Across the table, Tetsurō glanced up, watching them quietly. Inko’s gaze followed his, and softened.

They shared a knowing smile, warm and unspoken, as the silence stretched gently around the two teens.

Tetsurō cleared his throat lightly, then glanced toward Inko with a faint smile of his own. “Be honest with me, Midoriya-san—was he always this polite, or is that new?”

Inko let out a warm laugh. “Oh, he’s always been polite. A little shy, but very sweet.”

Izuku turned slightly red.

“Granddad…” Aiko murmured under her breath, clearly mortified.

Tetsurō just smirked, taking a sip of tea. “Just making sure he’s not on his best behavior only when I’m around.”

Aiko groaned softly, hiding her face behind her chopsticks. “He is always very sweet,” she muttered.

Izuku blinked, then flushed all the way to his ears.

Inko giggled behind her hand. “Goodness—look at him! You’ve got him blushing brighter than I’ve ever seen.”

Izuku didn’t answer right away, still flustered. His eyes darted briefly to Aiko, then down to his plate.

“…I’m just being myself,” he mumbled.

“You’re doing fine, son,” Tetsurō said with a small chuckle, before calmly returning to his rice.

💫 Read the full chapter now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 17: Do You Want To Share A Crepe?

A moment later, they were in. Aiko barely took two steps before her eyes locked on a high-speed rollercoaster painted like Gran Torino’s costume. Her smile widened. “Oh my god. We’re going on that!”

“Wait—what?” Izuku turned to look just in time to see her take off.

“C’mon, let’s go before the line gets bad!” she called over her shoulder, already weaving through the crowd.

He scrambled after her. “Are you sure you want to start with that?”

She threw him a grin. “What, scared?”

“N-No,” he said quickly, then quieter, “just… emotionally unprepared.”

They joined the end of the line—already winding past a mock hero agency façade—and the coaster screamed overhead, twisting in a corkscrew of smoke and steel. Aiko bounced slightly on her toes, eyes bright.

Izuku watched her for a second, then shook his head with a helpless smile. “Alright,” he said. “If we die, it’s your fault.”

She nudged his arm. “Deal.”

A few minutes later, they stumbled off the exit ramp, windblown and breathless.

Izuku staggered slightly, one hand on his stomach. “I think… I left my soul back on turn three.”

Aiko was already laughing, hair tousled and eyes gleaming. “You screamed louder than the kid two rows behind us.”

“I did not,” he muttered, visibly trying to walk in a straight line.

She patted his back, mock sympathetic. “I think I saw your life flash before my eyes.”

He shot her a look. “Next time, you’re sitting on the outside. I almost flew out.”

Aiko just smirked. “You really think I’d survive the outer seat? I’d get launched like a paper airplane.”

He groaned. “I’m never letting you pick the first ride again.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, still laughing as she looped her arm through his. “You’re in one piece. I’m proud of you.”

“I think my organs rearranged,” he mumbled, letting her drag him toward the next ride.

By the time they stumbled off that ride—some spinning, upside-down monstrosity—Izuku looked borderline ghostly.

“That one was worse,” he said weakly, hand on the nearest railing.

Aiko couldn’t stop giggling. “You looked like you were trying to phase through the seat.”

“I think I did,” he muttered. “My soul’s just doing laps at this point.” He gave her a side glance. “Honestly, I can’t believe they even let someone your size on that thing.”

She smirked.

“I think I ruptured something,” he groaned.

Aiko grinned, then finally took pity. “Alright, alright. Let’s take a break from the rides.”

They wandered through the park for a while, weaving between game stalls and food carts. The smell of buttered popcorn and fried noodles hung in the air, and the shouts of excited kids echoed across the grounds.

Then Izuku slowed, pointing across the plaza. “That’s my kind of ride.”

Aiko followed his gaze to a tall Ferris wheel, its bright gondolas slowly turning against the sky.

She raised an eyebrow. “What, no corkscrews or death drops?”

“Nope,” he said. “Just sitting. Peaceful. Gravity not trying to kill us.”

She snorted. “Alright, old man. Let’s go.”

💫 Read the full chapter now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 16: Aria

Summer break ended, and fall crept in. The mornings grew cooler, the skies sharper, the breeze tinged with salt and smoke. But the rhythm remained. Every morning before school, Aiko met Izuku at the beach—training, collecting scrap, cheering him on as he pushed through another round of exercises. In the afternoons, they returned together, side by side in the waning light, clearing debris until the shoreline looked less like a dump and more like a beach again.

The routine grounded them. Izuku grew stronger—steadier. His arms now carried definition, and he moved with more confidence. His steps were firmer, his breath no longer short after each round. His body was catching up to his spirit, slowly becoming the kind of vessel that could shoulder the weight of his dreams. And Aiko, without meaning to, got stronger too—her grip steadier, her muscles more responsive, her presence wasn’t just quiet support anymore—it had become a quiet strength of its own.

“You look exhausted,” Aiko said, one hand on her hip as she stepped onto the sand. “Maybe you should take a day off.”

Izuku didn’t pause his reps. “I’m fine.”

“You say that every day,” she muttered, crouching near his bag. She pulled out a folded paper—creased and slightly smudged. “It literally says here that you’re meant to take rest days.”

He glanced over, breathing hard. His eyes landed on the paper in her hand, and he sighed.

“It’s already November,” he said, brushing sand from his palms. “I’ve only got, what… three months left? Before the entrance exams?”

Aiko raised an eyebrow, holding up the crumpled workout schedule All Might had given him. “And this schedule you’re ignoring? Pretty sure the guy who wrote it knows a thing or two about training.”

He dropped down for another set of push-ups. “That’s more like… a suggestion.”

She scoffed. “That is the complete opposite of what a schedule is.”

He didn’t reply—just kept moving, muscles tight, expression focused.

Aiko stepped closer, her voice softening. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, you know. I already see how hard you’re working.”

Still nothing. He shifted into a new position, starting another round.

“At least take a proper break between sets,” she said gently. “Walk it off. Breathe. You’ll last longer that way.”

This time, Izuku did pause—just for a second. He sat back on his heels, catching his breath, sweat clinging to the edge of his hairline. Then he glanced up at her with a small smile.

“I know,” he said. “I just… I feel like if I stop, I’ll lose momentum.”

Aiko’s gaze softened. “Or maybe if you keep pushing like this, you’ll burn out.”

He didn’t respond right away.

She crouched beside him and nudged the water bottle toward his hands. “I’m not saying stop. Just… slow down enough that you actually make it to the goal.”

Izuku looked at the bottle, then at her—and gave a small nod, reaching for it. He took a long sip, the cool water a small relief against the heat lingering in his chest.

Aiko stayed crouched beside him, elbows resting on her knees. She tilted her head slightly, watching him.

“I’m proud of you,” she said quietly.

He glanced at her, caught off guard by the softness in her voice.

“You’re amazing, Izuku,” she continued, steady now. “Any other person probably would have given up by now, but you don’t even know how, do you?” Her voice dipped. “You’re the most dedicated, disciplined person I’ve ever met. It’s kind of… hard not to admire that.”

Izuku blinked, eyes shining faintly. He looked down, then back at her—like he wasn’t sure what to do with the weight of her words.

“Thank you,” he said, voice soft. He rubbed quickly at his eye, trying to pass it off like something in the air. “I… I really needed to hear that.”

A small, fragile smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his gaze stayed steady on hers, quietly full of gratitude.

Aiko tilted her head again, her smile quiet and sincere. “And you’ve come so far. I can barely keep up with you now.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” she said, nudging his arm with her shoulder. “You used to struggle with those busted TVs. Now you’re out here catching vending machines like it’s nothing.”

He glanced sideways at her, a grin tugging at his lips. “You were impressed, huh?”

Her cheeks warmed, and she glanced down at the sand before admitting, “…Mmm. A little.”

“Just a little?” he teased.

She bit her lip, then laughed softly. “Well… it was… hot.”

💫 Read the full chapter now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 15: I'm Yours

She glanced around out of instinct, then stepped closer.

“Kacchan showed up. Outside my home.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “What?! Did he hurt you?”

Aiko shook her head. “No. Just… cornered me.”

His jaw tensed. “How does he even know where you live?!”

“He was probably following us.” Her arms folded loosely. “I’m more baffled about how he knows my name.”

Izuku paused, trying to rewind through the memory. “I… I think I said it. When he tried blasting you. I yelled it.”

Aiko gave him a look. “No way he remembered it just from that one time.”

He nodded. “Kacchan’s… sharp. He pretends not to listen, but he catches everything. He’s always been like that.”

“That’s what worries me,” she muttered. “He didn’t just show up to posture. He was digging for answers. About my quirk.”

Izuku’s brows knit. “Did you tell him anything?”

“Of course not. But I think he’s gonna keep pressing. He’s suspicious now.”

Her eyes flicked to the sand, brows tightening. “And if he’s already that suspicious… it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?”

Izuku didn’t answer right away.

She looked up at him, voice low again, almost breathless. “What if he finds out? What if he exposes me? What if he tells a teacher, or worse—tells the Commission?”

Izuku let out a shaky breath. “If Kacchan really wants to get to the bottom of things…” He hesitated, then gave a grim nod. “It’s not far-fetched. He’s relentless when something’s under his skin.”

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “But he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not a teacher, and definitely not the Commission. He’s not like that.”

Aiko folded her arms, suddenly cold despite the sun. “So what do we do?”

Izuku looked away, thinking.

Aiko’s arms tightened around herself. “Maybe I should just… talk to him. Explain something. Anything.”

Izuku’s eyes snapped to hers. “No—don’t do that.”

She blinked. “Why not?”

“Because it’ll make things worse,” he said quickly. “Kacchan… he doesn’t talk. He pushes. Presses. If he smells blood, he doesn’t stop until—” His words trailed off, jaw tight. “He won’t let it go.”

Aiko frowned. “So we just do nothing?”

“I didn’t say that,” Izuku murmured. “We just… we lay low. We keep things normal. The more attention you draw, the more curious he’ll get.”

Aiko looked down, biting the inside of her cheek. “You’re really scared of him, huh?”

He didn’t deny it. He hesitated, then admitted quietly, “He’s bullied me for years. Ever since we were kids. He… really hates me.”

Aiko studied him for a moment. “No. He doesn’t.”

Izuku blinked, startled. “What do you mean? Of course he does—he’s spent my whole life proving it.”

She tilted her head slightly, voice soft but certain. “If you truly hated someone, would you really waste your time and energy on them? Every word, every fight… it’s attention. He notices you, Izuku. More than anyone.”

Izuku’s eyes flicked up, confusion, and something more vulnerable, swimming in his gaze.

Aiko’s tone gentled. “Hate is easy. What he feels for you… it’s more complicated than that.”

For a moment, Izuku didn’t know what to say. His throat worked, but no words came out.

Aiko looked away, almost sheepish, as though she’d said too much. “Doesn’t mean he isn’t awful,” she added quickly. “But I don’t think hate is the right word.”

Silence lingered between them, the wind tugging faintly at their sleeves.

“But alright,” she sighed. “I won’t go near him. I don’t like this, though.”

“Mm. I don’t either,” Izuku said, his voice softer now.

He stepped closer, hesitating only a second before reaching out. His hand found hers, fingers curling gently around her knuckles.

She flinched—barely. Just a tiny hitch in her grip, like she was trying not to let it show.

His eyes lifted to hers, concern flickering in his gaze. “Did I hurt you?”

Aiko shook her head, too fast. “No—just sore. I… scraped it a little, the other day.”

He didn’t press, but the crease between his brows deepened faintly.

Still, her shoulders eased, and after a moment, a small, genuine smile pulled at her lips. She gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“If anything happens…” he murmured, thumb brushing lightly across her fingers, “we’ll handle it. Together.”

For a beat, they just held each other’s gaze, the world quiet around them.

Izuku swallowed, his cheeks pink as he searched her eyes. “I might be… a little… scared of him,” he admitted softly. “But I won’t let him hurt my…” His voice faltered, words catching. “…my girlfriend.”

Aiko’s eyes widened, a blush rising fast to her cheeks. She ducked her head, but her gaze flicked up shyly through her lashes.

Izuku’s own face was crimson now. He fumbled, stammering, “Is… is that… I mean… you are… aren’t you?”

Heat flared across her cheeks, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes right away.

For a moment she only looked down, her lashes low, but her fingers curled more firmly around his, holding on as if she didn’t want to let go.

“P-please…” he whispered, voice small but earnest, the word trembling between them.

Her heart fluttered so hard it almost hurt. Her pulse skipped, chest tightening as her eyes fluttered closed for half a second—because he was too much. Too impossibly sweet, too painfully earnest, it made her ache in the best way.

“…Mmhmm,” she breathed, the softest sound slipping out, shaky but certain.

Then—very slowly—she nodded, a small, bashful smile tugging at her lips. Her cheeks flushed deeper as her eyes flicked up to his.

Izuku exhaled, almost a laugh, shaky and disbelieving. His eyes shone, the faintest sheen catching in the corners, like the happiness was too much to hold without spilling over. Her chest clenched at the sight, tender and aching. His thumb brushed gently over her knuckles, anchoring the fragile new truth between them.

And then, so slight it might have been imagined, Aiko gave the faintest tug at his hand, pulling him a fraction closer.

His breath hitched, his fingers tightening around hers just a little—and her heart leapt, because even without words, she knew what he was saying: I’m yours...

💫 Read the full chapter now on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68638256/chapters/177730571

[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 14: ...This Is Still Kinda Heavy...

The rest of summer blurred into sweat, sunburn, and shared bentos. Aiko and Izuku returned to the beach almost every day, slowly clearing more of the rusted junk that had taken root there.

Most mornings, Izuku arrived early to train—running sprints, pushing tires across the sand—always working by the time Aiko showed up in her new fitted tees and denim shorts.

Sometimes she trained alongside him, mimicking his movements; other times she cheered him on from the seawall, offering water and sarcastic commentary in equal measure.

They saved the cleanup for later, once the sun climbed higher and their limbs were warm. She worked hard—harder than anyone would expect from a girl with so much to hide.

Because Izuku was on summer break now, Tetsurō allowed her longer days—so long as she stayed close. The rule was simple: she could be out as long as she stayed with Izuku, avoided crowds, and kept alert. The beach and the little boba shop near the workshop became her new boundaries. With more daylight came more progress on the cleanup… and more time beside the one person who made hiding feel less like a prison, and more like a choice.

She also got very good at dodging All Might. There were at least five near-misses. One time, she dove headfirst behind a collapsed fridge. Another, she crouched behind a mountain of tires and didn’t move for twenty minutes. She’d seen him in both his towering hero form and the gaunt, hunched version that haunted the edges of her understanding. And each time, her breath still caught in her throat like it was the first.

Aiko grunted, the sound cutting through the crash of waves. She braced herself, but the old TV in her grip still slipped; it was more than half her size, heavier than she’d expected. Her feet shifted in the sand as she tried to steady it, her shoulders shook with effort.

“Hey—whoa—wait!” Izuku called, jogging over. “That’s way too heavy, you’ll hurt yourself!”

“I’ve got it—!” she started—but the corner of the TV dipped to one side, and the sudden shift nearly pulled her off balance.

Before she could react, his hands were there—his fingers sliding under hers, taking the full weight of it like it was nothing. The tension in her arms vanished in an instant. She realised that she wasn’t really holding it anymore.

Her fingers stayed in place anyway, resting lightly against his, like letting go would break something more fragile than the TV.

Their eyes locked. The breeze tugged at her hair.

He didn’t say anything. Just held the weight for her.

Then—slowly—his fingers brushed softly against hers.

Her breath caught. The moment stretched, delicate and still. And her hand moved on its own, fingertips slipping down, deliberately, until they intertwined with his.

Neither one spoke.

He glanced at her, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips. Heat bloomed across her cheeks before she could stop it.

Aiko’s chest tightened, her pulse thudding in her ears. The TV was nothing now—just an excuse for her hands to linger against his.

Her lips parted like she might speak, then closed again, blush deepening. A nervous laugh escaped instead. “Um… should we…”

Izuku blinked, like snapping out of a trance. “Oh—uh—right! S-sorry—yeah.”

They both adjusted their grips a little too quickly, though she knew the truth—he was carrying all the weight. Her palms barely pressed against the frame, more pretense than strength, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go.

Together, they shuffled it the rest of the way and let the TV drop onto the growing scrap pile with a heavy thud.

Aiko dusted her hands on her shorts, though they hadn’t done much work. Her cheeks were still warm, her pulse still quick. When she glanced up, Izuku was already looking at her, and for a second her breath caught again.

She managed a small, shy smile. For a moment, the world felt still—just the crash of waves and the weight of his eyes lingering on hers. Heat prickled at the back of her neck, and she looked away too quickly, forcing herself toward the next heap.

She crouched low to tug at a tangle of bent metal bars and rusted piping. Something clanged loose, rolling into the sand. She leaned in further, bracing a knee against the pile.

That’s when the groan of shifting weight rumbled above her.

The vending machine—full-sized, dented and scarred, its glass long since shattered—tilted at the top of the mound, its balance undone by the piece she’d just pulled free.

“Aiko, move—!”

Her head snapped up just as the hulking machine lurched forward. The shadow fell over her.

But before it could hit, Izuku was there.

The entire vending machine crashed down into his palms with a teeth-rattling clang—metal groaning under its own weight. His sneakers dug trenches in the sand as he staggered back a step, but he locked his stance—back straight, shoulders taut, every muscle straining as he held it aloft.

Aiko froze. The machine loomed above her, balanced entirely in his grip. But she wasn’t looking at the vending machine anymore...

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[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 13: You're Tougher Than You Look

“Granddad!” Aiko called out, voice slightly winded.

Tetsurō was hunched over the workbench, sleeves rolled to the elbows, a low whirr coming from the grinder in his hand. Sparks flared briefly, casting tiny glints against the mess of metal, leather, and cloth strewn across the table. The soft scent of oiled tools and scorched leather lingered in the air.

“I brought some good stuff today,” she said, nudging the door closed with her foot.

Tetsurō didn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “No rusty pipe, I hope. Nearly dulled my best blade last time.”

“Lesson learned.” She crossed the room and carefully laid the pieces onto the side table, brushing off a few lingering flecks of sand. “There’s some old paneling here—might be usable.”

He grunted in approval, switching off the grinder and setting it down. “We’ll see what we can make of it.”

She hesitated.

His eyes flicked to her—just briefly—but it was enough. “What is it?”

“Um… Where are the hand wraps?” she asked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Not the reinforced ones. Just the fabric ones”

He turned, brow raised. “What for?”

Aiko shifted slightly. “There was a truck blocking the road on my way back, so I took the long way around… and I passed this alley with a bunch of kids sparring.” Her voice picked up a bit, just barely. “It looked like Muay Thai. Real form work. Elbows, clinch drills, the works.”

Tetsurō didn’t speak. He just watched her.

She met his gaze. “I was thinking… maybe I could train with them?”

He stayed still for a long moment. The low hum of the forge was the only sound between them.

Then, finally, he nodded—reaching for a cloth to wipe his hands. “I think it’s a good idea. You’ve wanted to learn Muay Thai for a while.”

“Really?” she said quickly. “You think… it’s safe?”

A pause.

Then he stood, slow and steady, moving toward the old shelf near the far wall. He rummaged behind a stack of folded gear before pulling something out.

The wrist wraps were dark grey, reinforced with sturdy layered fabric—strong, flexible, and built for sparring.

He held them out to her with a soft exhale. “No. It’s not safe,” he said plainly. “You shouldn’t be wandering off routes we agreed on. And I don’t like the idea of you hanging around strangers.”

Then, quieter: “But… it’s even less safe if you don’t know how to protect yourself.”

Aiko’s face lit up.

“Thank you,” she whispered, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him.

Tetsurō grunted softly, resting a calloused hand on her back. “…Just don’t break your nose the first week, alright?”

She laughed. “I won’t.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Aiko jogged back toward the alley, clutching her hand wraps. Her heart thudded—not from the walk, but the nerves simmering just under her ribs.

The narrow lane was still there, dappled in morning light. The clang of footwork and the muted slap of skin against fabric echoed softly against the concrete walls.

Four kids were training in the open space. Three boys, one girl. Street clothes, mostly—plain shirts, athletic shorts, scuffed sneakers. But their movements were sharp. Purposeful. Knees snapped up, elbows cut through the air, a battered punching bag hung crookedly from a rusted hook above.

Aiko hesitated just before the corner, half-hiding behind the chipped edge of a crumbling wall. She held her breath, watching.

The smallest of the boys—a kid with a spiky black mohawk and a bandage across his nose—pivoted mid-drill and caught sight of her.

He slowed. Then, wordlessly, started walking over.

Aiko straightened reflexively, bracing herself.

He stopped a few feet away, squinting slightly.

“You following us or something?” he asked. Not rude, but not quite friendly either.

“No,” Aiko said quickly, stepping forward. Her voice was calm, careful. “I just… I saw you guys earlier. And… I was curious.”

The boy glanced down at the straps in her hands.

She shifted them into view. “I was wondering if I could train with you. Just a little. If that’s alright.”

His eyes scanned her quickly—skinny legs, lean frame, no obvious bruises. She didn’t look like a threat. But she didn’t look useless either.

He jerked his head toward the others. “Come ask Rika.”

Aiko followed, keeping a respectful distance. The other kids had stopped now, watching her approach...

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[izuaiko]

❤️ Thank you everyone on Tumblr for being super sweet and supportive. Though I don’t get a lot of interaction here, it’s been very pleasant. People on other sites can be so rude, omg 😣 so off putting to post in some online communities.

[izuaiko]

Aiko kicked off her boots before Izuku had even stepped fully through the door. She darted down the hallway, calling out brightly, “Tadaima, Midoriya-san!”

Izuku smiled faintly as he bent to straighten her boots—left haphazardly in the entryway—lining them up neatly beside his own shoes before following after her.

By the time he reached the kitchen, Aiko was already at the counter, laughing as she finished washing her hands and started helping his mom rinse vegetables.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen his face! He almost fell straight into the water!”

Inko covered her mouth, eyes sparkling with amusement as she sliced. “My goodness, Izuku, you really are quite skittish.”

Izuku flushed, pouting slightly. “H-hey, those seagulls are terrifying when they swoop down like that!”

Both Aiko and Inko laughed, the sound mingling so easily it made the house feel warmer than usual.

Inko turned toward him with a fond smile. “Izuku, will you set the table, please? Lunch will be ready soon.”

“Yes, Mom.”

As he moved to fetch the chopsticks and bowls, he glanced over at Aiko beside his mother, chatting like she belonged there. The sight made him smile.

“Here, Aiko-chan, taste this for me,” Inko said, holding out a small spoonful of broth.

Aiko leaned in obediently, blew gently, and took a sip. Her eyes lit. “Mm—delicious!”

Inko beamed. “Ah, I thought so.” She gave her an approving little nod, like they’d been cooking together for years.

Behind them, Izuku shifted the bowls in his hands. “C-can I try—” he started, voice trailing off.

Neither of them looked his way, already leaning closer over the pot, Aiko suggesting just a pinch more salt while Inko hummed in agreement.

Izuku wilted slightly, lips twitching into a helpless smile. He balanced the bowls against his chest and muttered under his breath, “Guess not…”

Then Inko’s expression softened. “Izuku’s been training so hard lately,” she said, glancing at Aiko with a touch of concern. “I hope he hasn’t been pushing you to keep up with him.”

Aiko gave a small laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Midoriya-san. If anything, I’m the one pushing him.”

Inko smiled, then she turned her gaze on her son. “Still,” she said, voice warm but firm, “Aiko-chan’s much smaller than you. You’d better not be overworking her.”

Izuku straightened, nearly fumbling the chopsticks. “Of course not! I’d never—!”

“And,” Inko added, her brow lifting, “you are making sure you both drink plenty of water, right? It’s been sweltering lately.”

Izuku flinched like he’d been caught. “I—I do! I always carry water!”

Aiko smirked faintly, glancing his way. “Except when you forget.”

“M-Most of the time,” he amended quickly, ears burning.

Aiko leaned toward Inko, dropping her voice just enough to sound conspiratorial. “Don’t worry, I always bring enough for both of us.”

That earned an easy laugh from Inko, and Aiko joined in a moment later. Izuku sat back slightly, watching them with a quiet warmth he couldn’t quite put into words.

By the time they sat down to eat, that feeling only grew stronger.

“Aiko-chan,” Inko said brightly as she passed the vegetables across the table, “does Izuku ever stop mumbling when you’re training?”

Aiko lifted her chopsticks. “No,” she laughed. “He never stops mumbling. Sometimes I don’t know if he’s talking to me or just… to the air.”

Inko chuckled, delighted. “That sounds about right. He used to do it as a toddler too. I once found him giving a whole speech to a pair of socks.”

Aiko’s chuckle slipped out before she could stop it. “Were they All Might socks?”

“Of course they were,” Inko said with a laugh.

Both she and Aiko burst into giggles, their amusement tumbling over each other until Izuku dropped his face into his hands.

He peeked at them through his fingers, cheeks burning, but despite his embarrassment, something deep in his chest swelled—warm, full, steady. They looked so at ease together. So natural. And even if they were laughing at his expense… he wouldn’t have traded the moment for anything...

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[izuaiko]

“Izuku…” Inko’s voice floated in from the hallway. “Are you still asleep?”

Izuku stirred, eyes sore, throat raw. His fingers were still curled loosely around something—small, thin, familiar.

Aiko’s paperclip bow.

He blinked against the light filtering through the curtains. Everything felt stiff. His chest ached. His mind hadn’t stopped spinning since last night.

He sat up. Looked at his phone.

9:02 AM.

No.

His pulse slammed into gear.

Aiko. The beach.

Panic tore through him as he bolted upright.

I didn’t show up. After everything she told me. After what happened last night. After I promised she could trust me—

He didn’t let the thought finish.

His feet hit the floor, and he was out of his room in seconds, flying past his mother in the hallway.

“Morning, sweetie—Izuku?”

He didn’t stop. Just darted into the bathroom. Inko’s eyes narrowed, catching the puffiness in his face, the shadows under his eyes.

“Are you okay?” she called, voice laced with concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he shouted through the door—but his voice cracked mid-word, too shaky to hide.

The shower was scalding and brief—barely a rinse. He was in and out in under four minutes, towel half-secured, dragging clothes over damp skin like his bones were on fire.

Shoes. Keys. Wallet. Hair still dripping.

He bolted through the streets.

Aiko hadn’t asked him to meet her this morning—but she didn’t have to. He was always there waiting for her. That was their time. Their bubble. And now he’d missed it.

She’ll think I ghosted her. After opening up to me. After telling me everything.

He hadn’t just slept in. He’d failed her.

He reached the top of her street breathless and flushed, heart hammering like it wanted to apologize on his behalf. But he’d never actually been past this point, he didn’t know where exactly she lived.

He paused, scanning the road, unsure which door to try, which window to knock on.

And then he saw it.

A wooden sign, mounted neatly beside a sliding metal gate.

Hoshino Ironworks.

Hoshino.

The name she gave his mom the day before.

This had to be it.

Izuku took a shaky step forward, nerves fizzing under his skin. He wasn’t sure what he expected—a barking dog, a metal clang, some kind of warning—but there was only the hum of morning air, warm and quiet. He reached the door and knocked.

A moment passed.

Then, the door slid open with a quiet shhk, revealing a tall, muscular older man with soot-dusted sleeves and forearms built like iron beams. His face was weathered but kind, with deep lines around the mouth and a square jaw framed by streaks of grey in his dark beard. His eyes softened the moment they landed on Izuku.

Izuku bowed low. “Um.. Good morning, Hoshino-san. I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m a friend of Aiko’s.”...

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[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 10: It's Called... Reverberate

“Oi.”

The word cracked the air, then lingered. Izuku turned slowly, pulse hammering in his ears, dread already rising in his throat.

Behind them stood a boy with spiky ash-blond hair, a little taller and more solidly built than Izuku, radiating heat and intensity like a barely contained explosion.

Katsuki Bakugo.

Hands jammed in his pockets. Scowl already locked in place. His sharp red eyes zeroed in on Izuku like a heat-seeking missile.

“Well, well,” Bakugo drawled, lip curling. “Didn’t know nerds like you got to walk girls home now.”

Aiko’s brows lifted slightly.

Izuku groaned. “Kacchan…”

Aiko glanced between them. “That’s Kacchan?”

Bakugo’s eyes flicked to her for the first time—sizing her up in a flash—then dismissing her just as fast.

He snorted. “What, you finally found some random girl to pity you, Deku?”

Aiko’s fingers curled slightly, as if reaching for something small that wasn’t there.

Izuku hesitated—then took a shaky step forward. “D-don’t… j-just don’t talk like that, okay?”

Bakugo’s mouth twisted. “Oh, look at you. Getting brave all of a sudden.”

“B-Back off, Kacchan.”

“Tch. The hell’s your deal?” Bakugo’s eyes narrowed. “You used to trip over your own shadow when I looked at you. Now you’re mouthing off with some girl hangin’ off your side like you’re not still useless.”

Aiko’s eyes hardened, but she didn’t move. She watched the exchange quietly, calculating.

Izuku’s fingers twitched, curling halfway into fists.

Bakugo scoffed and took a step closer. “What, you gonna throw hands now? Gonna try and be a hero in front of your girlfriend?”

Izuku’s jaw tightened. “Sh-She’s—That’s… just leave us alone, okay?”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Bakugo snapped, sparks starting to crackle faintly around his palm. “You think walkin’ around with some pretty girl makes you somebody?”

Aiko’s eyes flicked to his hand. The subtle change in the air—the way the light jumped across his skin—it wasn’t just bravado. He was building charge. Testing distance.

“That’s it?” She cut in. “Your quirk maxes out at cute little party sparklers?”

Bakugo blinked—eyes locked on her.

“The hell did you say?”...

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[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 9: Of Course I Did

The next morning, Aiko crouched behind the low seawall, the salty breeze catching her hair as she peeked out over the edge. Sea gulls wheeled overhead, and waves lapped at the sand, brushing up against rusted cans and broken crates.

The beach was still a mess, but not quite the disaster it had once been.

A few larger items had been cleared, pushed into piles near the stone wall. Fewer sharp edges, less tangled wire. Just enough change to be noticeable to someone paying close attention.

She hadn’t meant to spy, but when she saw Izuku and him talking near the shoreline, curiosity got the better of her.

Her pulse quickened.

All Might stepped forward, his long, skinny shadow stretching across the uneven sand. “You’ve made real progress,” he said, his voice carried on the wind. “Not just with the beach.”

He paused, eyeing Izuku more closely.

“You’re looking stronger,” he added, tone thoughtful. “Your posture, your recovery time… your endurance. You’ve clearly been pushing yourself.”

Izuku stood tall, breath steady, hands on his hips. A fine sheen of sweat clung to his skin, but he didn’t look tired. He looked… ready.

“You’re starting to grasp what this path demands,” All Might said, softer now. “Consistency. Grit. The willingness to show up—even when no one’s watching.”

He motioned toward the clearing shoreline. “This isn’t glamorous work. But it’s the kind of effort that builds true strength. Not just muscle—but resolve.”

Izuku nodded once, quiet pride flickering behind his eyes. He said nothing about the extra pair of hands that sometimes helped him.

All Might’s lips curved into a rare, approving smile. “Well done, young Midoriya.”

From behind the wall, Aiko remained hidden—heart pounding in her chest.

So that’s really him…

He was nothing like she imagined up close. Frail. Thin. Almost ghostly in his oversized shirt and drawn expression. But the way he stood… the way he looked at Izuku…

It was unmistakable.

Aiko stared, frozen in place, unsure whether to be amazed or quietly shaken by how much the real All Might differed from the legend. And then, slowly, she stepped back into the shadow, waiting for the moment they parted.

All Might gave a final nod before turning and walking slowly back toward the parking lot. His footsteps faded against the concrete.

Izuku stood there for a moment, shoulders tense, gaze fixed on the space All Might had just vacated. Then, with a steady exhale, he turned away from the water and dropped to the sand, hands planting firmly in front of him. Without hesitation, he began a set of push-ups—movements crisp and controlled, like muscle memory had taken over.

A few quiet seconds passed.

Then—

“Oh my god,” came a hushed squeal, half-whispered and barely contained. “That was All Might…”...

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[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 8.5: When You See Their Little Faces

The sky was still pale when Aiko padded into the kitchen, her feet bare against the cold wooden floor. In one hand, she absently rolled a small wooden doll between her fingers—a simple, smooth figure she never seemed to put down.

The house was quiet, the kind of early morning quiet where the world still felt half asleep.

Her mother stood by the counter, pressing the edges of tofu pouches for her school bento. The rice cooker beeped softly. Steam curled up from a pot on the stove, carrying the faint, sweet scent of dashi.

Aiko rubbed her eyes, yawning as she climbed onto the low stool by the counter. She tucked her knees under the hem of her nightshirt and rested her chin in her hands.

Her mother smiled without looking up. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Aiko hummed in response, too tired to form words just yet. She watched as her mother dipped a fingertip into the vinegar mixture and swirled it into the warm rice, folding it gently with the wooden paddle.

“Is it today?” she mumbled.

Her mother glanced at her. “Mm?”

“The field trip.”

Her mother’s smile widened. “That’s tomorrow, sweetheart. Today’s Tuesday.”

Aiko groaned and let her forehead drop into her hands.

Her mother chuckled. “You’ll survive. I made your favorite.”

That got her attention. She peeked up from behind her arms, eyes wide. “Inari?”

“With seaweed faces.”

Aiko’s sleepiness fell away like a dropped blanket. She sat up straighter, watching her mother work.

Each tofu pouch was filled carefully—shaped just enough so the rice peeked out like a tiny pillow. Her mother’s fingers moved quickly, cutting tiny ovals and lines from a sheet of nori, using the tip of a chopstick to place each expression on to the rice.

The first one had sleepy eyes and a little half-open mouth.

The next looked happy and content.

One had eyebrows slanted down like it was mad about being awake.

Aiko giggled. “That one looks like Papa.”...

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[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 8: Like I Already Am

“Let’s take a break,” Izuku said, dusting his hands off on the sides of his shorts. “We’ve been going non-stop.”

Aiko looked up from where she was picking seaweed off a tangled plastic net. “You sure? We’ve still got so much more to do.”

“Yeah,” he said, already reaching for his backpack. “But, uh—come here.” He motioned toward the stone ledge. She followed and sat beside him.

Unzipping his backpack like he’d rehearsed this a hundred times—which, honestly, he kind of had. He carefully pulled out a blue and yellow bento box, the lid printed with a bold image of All Might grinning mid-pose, arm raised in victory.

Aiko stared at it.

“Um.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is for you.”

Her hands moved slowly. She took it gently, cradling it like it was made of glass. It felt heavier than it looked.

Izuku watched her. "Open it," he said.

She looked up. “There's something inside?”

He nodded. “M-my... my mom packed it for you.”

Aiko blinked. “You told your mom about me?”

His cheeks reddened, not sure where to look so he just looked down. “Uh… yeah…”

She blushed slightly, but didn’t say anything. Her fingers brushed over the lid again, tracing the curve of All Might’s smile. Then, carefully, she lifted the top.

Her breath caught.

Inside were a few balls of mochi, slices of tamagoyaki, a small cluster of nimono… and several pieces of inari-zushi. With tiny seaweed faces. Happy. Sleepy. Pouty.

Her hands began to tremble.

She stared—lips parting slightly, eyes wide and glassy. A tiny, fragile sound left her throat—half inhale, half gasp—like she was trying to steady herself and failing.

And then, she broke. The composure she always wore slipped away.

Her eyes overflowed, tears spilling hot and unrelenting down her cheeks. She inhaled sharply, then let out a soft, pained sound, as though the ache in her chest had finally broken free. Her shoulders quivered, the box trembling faintly in her grasp.

She clutched it closer, as if holding it tighter might anchor her, might keep the flood of memory from dragging her under.

Izuku froze, the weight of the moment hitting him all at once. His heart ached. For a second, panic sparked in his chest.

Oh no. I made her cry. What should I do? What should I—...

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[izuaiko]

Reverberate - Chapter 7: I Want To Be Your Hero

“You can’t be serious,” Aiko said, raising an eyebrow as she dumped a used plastic container into the trash bag. “All Might’s Bronze Age costume was way better than his Silver Age one.”

Izuku laughed, nudging a crumpled soda can into his own bag. “You just like it because the colors are emo.”

“Maybe.” She grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as the sea breeze lifted it slightly. “If I had a hero costume, it’d be all black.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he teased. “Let me guess—black boots, black gloves, dramatic cloak billowing in the wind?”

“No cloak. But maybe, like, a hood,” she laughed, bending to grab a cracked water bottle. “So I can vanish into the shadows.”

Izuku smiled, watching her for a second longer than necessary. Then his voice softened. “Hey, um… I never did ask—what’s your quirk?”

Aiko froze for a second. Not long enough to seem suspicious, but enough that he noticed.

She looked down at the sand, fingers tightening minutely around the edge of the trash bag. “It’s… nothing special,” she said quietly. “Honestly, I wish I was quirkless.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “Seriously?”

She didn’t answer right away. The wind tugged at her shirt, loose against her frame. Her mouth pressed into a line, as if weighing whether to keep going. The easy rhythm of their morning had shifted—still calm, but now laced with something fragile underneath.

“My parents…” she began, then stopped. Swallowed. Tried again.

“They were killed.”...

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