Yearning for All nights daughter
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@itsitsuko66The training field at U.A. High is a wide, dusty expanse under the harsh afternoon sun. The air smells of ozone and scorched earth, the lingering evidence of countless quirks pushed to their limits.
Izuku Midoriya stands at the edge of the observation platform, his back rigid against the railing. His notebook is open in his hands, but his eyes aren't on the pages. They’re fixed, helplessly, on the center of the field.
Y/N Yagi moves through a series of controlled energy blasts, her form a study in contained power. A faint, golden-white aura—Legacy Pulse—shimmers around her like heat haze. Each precise motion is efficient, powerful, and utterly devoid of wasted effort.
Izuku’s chest tightens. He feels it before he sees it—the familiar, magnetic pull in his core, the restless stirring of One For All beneath his skin. It’s a low hum of recognition, an urge to answer her light with his own. He clenches his free hand into a fist, digging his nails into his palm. Don’t react.
Shoto Todoroki
standing beside him, voice flat You’re staring again.
Izuku flinches, his gaze snapping down to his notebook. He scribbles a meaningless note about quirk stabilization, his handwriting shaky.
Izuku Midoriya
I’m—I’m just analyzing her form. It’s very… efficient.
Shoto Todoroki
Hm.
On the field, Y/N pivots for a high-velocity kick. Her foot connects with a reinforced training dummy. The impact is solid, but her landing is a fraction off—her ankle twists minutely on the uneven ground. She doesn’t cry out. She just goes still for a half-second, her jaw tightening.
Izuku is already leaning forward, the railing digging into his ribs. The words are out before his brain can catch up.
Izuku Midoriya
Are you okay?
Y/N’s head turns. Her eyes find his across the distance. For a moment, she just looks surprised, her controlled mask slipping. Then she offers a small, careful smile.
Y/N Yagi
I’m fine, Midoriya.
It doesn’t convince him. It never does. He can see the slight tension still held in her shoulders.
And their quirks react anyway. A crackle of green energy sparks along Izuku’s forearm, unbidden. Across the field, Y/N’s golden aura flares brighter for an instant, pulsing in time with his.
From the shadows of the platform’s overhang, a pair of tired, dark eyes lock onto them. Aizawa’s capture scarf shifts slightly.
Shota Aizawa
voice low but carrying Midoriya. Yagi. Reel it in.
Izuku jerks back from the railing as if burned. The spark on his arm dies. He swallows hard, the taste of ozone and regret thick in his throat.
Izuku Midoriya
Sorry.
He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. For staring? For asking? For the way his very existence seems to disrupt hers?
Y/N watches him for a second longer than necessary, the glow around her settling back to its steady simmer. Something unreadable flickers in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or a hint of frustration.
Y/N Yagi
You always pull away.
Her voice is soft, almost lost in the vast space between them.
Izuku forces a smile. It feels brittle on his face. His heart is pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. I have to. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you see what happens?
Izuku Midoriya
I’m just… being careful.