This chapter is dedicated to my loneliness and procrastination, as well as my beta who is probably sick of my shit, but still puts up with me because we're friends. Seriously though, this chapter took a long time because I was busy with other projects and kept putting it off. So I'm sorry for the long wait. I really am. Chapter one of One Horn and Means to an End will be posted in time. I believe they're already up on Ao3, so if you find me, good luck. It probably wouldn't be too hard, but good luck nonetheless.

The title for the chapter probably won't make since until the end, and I give full permission to anyone who wants the say "roll credits". I love Cinemasins, I've been watching them for years. Even though they've sold out to sponsorships, they're still good.

Enjoy~

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The pen raced across the paper as he jotted down his next thoughts, mind always analyzing as he saw. Jirou would need to work on her stamina, as she was beginning to tire out this early.

He updated her stats in his notebook.

Aoyama was going to need to work on his durability and pain tolerance, as he had been going to the outhouse every few minutes to deal with his stomach ache.

He updated his stats as well.

Izuku paused and bit the end on his pen, looking around while contemplating what he should do next.

Most of his notes on his classmates were done, and he really wanted to get out of this tree and start doing his own training. Aizawa said that his training would be with knives and stealth, hence part of the reason he was hiding in a tree. The other part was because he just really didn't want to talk to people.

He could see Kota a little ways off, looking around at his classmates angrily. If he was searching for Izuku, he didn't know, but the young boy was glancing around as if looking for someone.

Izuku let himself stare for a moment more before his phone buzzed. Yamada had getten him one, saying something about spoiling him. He didn't really know if he deserved it, but he was grateful either way. He pulled the device and saw it was a text from his guardian.

Aizawa: Get out of that tree and follow me. We're training.

Now he might've asked how the man knew he was up there, if it weren't for the fact that this man had the best hearing out of anyone he knew (save for Jiro and Shoji) despite living with the loudest man in the world. It was a gamble how the man could hear at all. Izuku knew from experience that Yamada's snoring could wake someone up immediatly.

Pocketing his pen, he swung down and landed silently on the plush grass. Kota didn't even turn around.

Aizawa waved him over and they both started walking away from the others. The man had a troubled expression on his face, the one he made when he was worried about how Izuku would react to something.

It made Izuku uneasy about what they would be doing.

"How do you feel about training more with knives?" Aizawa asked, peeking at him from the corner of his eye.

Izuku tensed a little.

Aizawa wouldn't force him to train like that. With concrete floors and glass shards. He wouldn't drive a knife through his shoulder just for training.

Aizawa wouldn't hurt him.

It still didn't erase the anxiety at the thought of training with someone else with knives. His guardian probably noticed his immediate discomfort and stopped walking. "Izuku, listen to me," He said as he kneeled down in front of him. "No matter what training we do, I'd never hurt you. Understand?"

Izuku nodded while biting his lip. He knew that whatever training they did, the worst he would have would be bruises and sore muscles, not broken bones and larcerations.

"Will you be okay with training with knives today?" Aizawa asked calmly.

Another nod of confirmation and Aizawa reached into his pocket, pulling out a japanese tanto knife. He handed the sheathed weapon over and Izuku pulled it out. It was a black blade and steel edge, the black hilt was wrapped in a decorative dark green ribbon.

"Alright. We'll start with swinging it in a frontward attack and later move onto swings and thrusts. Okay?"

"Okay," Izuku said airily. He stared at the blade with uncertainty before following through with the action while Aizawa stood next to him, pulling his own knife from it's sheath on his lower back, and followed Izuku's motions.

They changed their swings every few minutes, Izuku getting more comfortable and confident as they practiced.

Eventually they went to sparing, starting off slowly, but gradually growing faster. Aizawa swung his knife in a slash to the left and Izuku ducked under, swiping the man's legs out from under him and going for a swing. Aizawa rolled out of the way into a crouch and swung his blade in a reverse grip. Izuku blocked, holding the knife in a hammer grip.

Pushing him off, Izuku jumped and rolled to the side, keeping his feet light and quick. Aizawa seemed to catch on and charged at him with both strength and agility. He pushed his blade foreward in a stabbing motion, and Izuku blocked again, only this time, the knife was knocked out of Aizawa's hand.

It fell to the ground with a thump, and Aizawa was left open. Using the opportunity, Izuku attacked. He brought him down with a kick, and crouched over him, holding his knife to the man's throat.

He stayed there for a moment, panting tiredly as his guradian and teacher looked up at him with calm eyes. His eyebrows were slightly quirked upward, showing his surprise at being defeated.

Izuku backed off, pulling away from him and standing back up. Aizawa stood up, and grabbed his knife from the grass, and got back into a fighting stance. He saw the smallest upturn of his lips. "Good. Let's try again."

He carded a hand through his hair, now noticing that his hair had fallen out of his hair tie. His forehead was beginning to sweat, and his arms ached, but he could keep going. He could always keep going.

Izuku silently ate his curry with his boistrous classmates beside him, shoveling their food into their mouths. The food wasn't awful persay, but it wansn't the best. Then again, any food was good food to Izuku. He ate bread and scraps for a majority of his life.

He tried to ignore the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up. Kota had been watching him all day. It was unnerving to be honest.

Taking a quick inconspicuous glance at his surroundings, he saw a small figure retreating into the trees.

Strange.

He hadn't seen the young boy eat anything all day.

Izuku hastily finished his bowl before grabbing another and filling it with food. He took the spare chopsticks and followed after Kota. If it turned out that he had eaten, then Izuku would just eat the food himself. The younger boy's tracks were easy enough to find, seeing as they were fresh, and he kept a slow pace behind him.

Call him curious, but he wanted to know where Kota was going.

The canopy of the trees above him whistled in the wind, carrying whispers of something unseen. It was eerily quiet, not another sound was heard other than the breeze in the leaves, and Kota's footsteps a good distance ahead. His own heartbeat was calmed, his breathing regulated, and his steps always light. Even so, the feeling of eyes on him never faded. He was probably just being skittish.

Trees reached hanging hands out to him, brushing his arms as he walked on and making his cuts hurt more. Roots climbed onto the path and snagged at his feet, nearly making him trip a couple times.

The more he walked, the more dense the forest bacame and the less light he had to see with, but even so, he kept his gaze on the tracks and his ears honed on the sound of the small boy's gait.

Where was he going?

He could still faintly see the heat of the food in whatever moonlight there still was, but the food was going to go cold soon, and he didn't want to be the reason that food was wasted because children generally don't like cold food.

Maybe Kota was walking to a treehouse? He'd read about those in books, but he'd never seen one in real life. It had said that they're made of wood and are nailed to a tree to make a small room up in the branches. Izuku doesn't know how that would work, though. Sure there are trees that could hold a room if it was built onto them, but rooms don't usually have branches going through them. And trees also don't have flat spaces to lay wood boards down to make a floor.

Why would someone want to have a room in a tree anyway? Most trees aren't tall, and the ones in this forest are only moderatly high, so it wan't for the view. Privacy? But you can get privacy in a building if you find a small space that would fit you. Kota was defenitly tiny enough to fit in a crawl space. Izuku remembered when he was that small, he could fit in the small cabinets at the bar.

Maybe it was just for the sake of having a personal space in a tree? But why? Wouldn't the structure of the space hurt the tree?

Kota does seem like the child who would like to have privacy in trees, if the way he spent the entire day watching Izuku from the treeline was any indication. Who would build him a treehouse, though? Mandalay doesn't come off as the kind of guardian that would want her charge to wander this far from their lodge, let alone build him a treehouse out here, and if Mandalay didn't condone it, then Pixie Bob, Ragdoll, and Tiger wouldn't go against her word.

Maybe Kota built it himself then?

It seemed feesable enough.

If he asked nicely, would he be able to see inside? Hopefully Kota wasn't still upset that he had caught his punch earlier. He was really interested in knowing how they work.

Izuku barely noticed when the trees passed and he was walking up a slope of the mountain, but when he did he realized that Kota had stopped a distance away, sitting by the edge and looking out at the scenery beyond. He also noted the distinct lack of treehouses.

Damn.

He really got his hopes up.

Making his presence known, he stepped out and into the younger boy's sight range. Kota jumped up, shock written on his face before it twisted into anger. "How did you find this place?!" He shouted, pointing a finger at Izuku.

His signing was limited due to the warm bowl of curry in his hand, but he finger spelled with the other that he'd followed his footsteps from the camp.

"What? What the hell does that mean?"

So he doesn't know JSL. Shame. Izuku really didn't want to talk. Brow furrowed, he looked down at the bowl and pushed his arm out, offering it to the boy. Kota looked at it confused and then growled. "You followed me here just to give me curry?"

Izuku nodded.

"I don't want it, go away! I'm not hungry!" The sound of his stomach growling contradicted his words.

Frowning, he placed the bowl on the ground in case Kota changed his mind. The boy kind of reminded him of Bakugo, what with his brash attitude. At the same time though, he seemed so forlorn. A wistful air that followed him everywhere suffacated those who got too close. Izuku was hit by the sudden urge to just... help.

He didn't know what to say though.

"Are you deaf or something?! Leave!"

"What is this place?" Izuku asked softly, his voice still slightly weak. He looked out at the trees as they met the skyline, stars beginning to form in the sky and constalation marking the galaxy.

"My secret hideout. Now go away," Kota huffed.

"It's beautiful," Izuku commented.

"Are you done sight seeing, or are you just bad at listening to others."

"I've never met someone as young as you that hates heroes, but I guess it would be pretty naive to think that every kid loved them. I'm sorry about your parents, by the way. You have my condolances. They were good people." People. Because that's what they were. Heroes were just people, with hopes, dreams, strengths, and weaknesses. Limits. He could say they were good heroes. Because it would be true. But that's not what Kota would need to hear. In the mind of a small child, as Mandalay had said, having your parents taken away from you because they died saving others, is the same as them abandoning you.

Izuku knows how it feels to be abandoned.

"How did you-? Did Mandalay tell you that?! It's none of your business!" Kota shouted.

"You're right. It's not. I'm butting into a situation that doesn't concern me, but I still have something to say."

"What? That they died a heroic dea-"

"That I'm sorry." Izuku cut the boy off, leaving him gaping. He gave him what he hoped was an empathetic and understanding gaze. "No one your age should know what it feels like to lose your parents. No one should tell you that your parents died an honorable death, when you're too young to even understand that. In the end, death is still death, and your parents died protecting someone else instead of being with you. So I'm sorry."

Izuku looked back at the sky when he saw tears beginning to form in the younger boy's eyes.

"I can probably guess how you view hero society as a whole. That we're all just throwing our lives away to use our Quirks. Giving each other titles and catagorizing people. I guess part of that is true. There will always be someone who only wants to be a hero because of money and fame and power, and there will always be someone who wants to watch the world burn under their fingers, but there are good heroes. Heroes who put a stop to those people because they know it's right."

The breeze flew past Izuku, bringing a chill as it ruffled his hair. He could still feel eyes on him, but he tried to ignore it.

A small sniffle sounded from Kota, who was now glaring at the ground angrily. "You're all stupid. Wanting to be heroes just to die. What's the point? Just to use your Quirks?"

Izuku considered him for a moment before, "Well I'm Quirkless. I don't really have a Quirk to use." He ignored the small intake of air as Kota's head whipped up in favor of noting the pain beginning to form in his throat. "Being a hero, for most people, is just about wanting to help people. To save others and bring them hope for a future of happiness. I don't expect you to understand now, but you might later. The curry is still warm, I'd eat it before it got cold if I were you. I trust that you can find your way back."

He turned around and walked off before to boy could reply to him. His throat ached from all the talking he'd just done. It would've been so much easier if sign language was a required course in schools. Then he could communicate better without being in pain. There was a chance he might not be able to speak tomorrow.

The forest seemed to whisper to him as he walked back, following his tracks from earlier. Warnings and cautions blew through the leaves.

Izuku normally liked forests. Of course he'd never been in one, but he, like treehouses, had read about them in books. The tranquil peace that they were supposed to bring was absent, and in it's place an eerie feeling of anxiety that crept into his chest.

He nearly booked it back to camp, coming across his classmates who were cleaning the dishes together. Sighing in relief, he went to help them, picking up his discarded bowl and bringing it over to the sinks. Uraraka saw him and smiled teasingly. "Now where did you run off to? You weren't trying to skip out on chores, were you?"

The water ran over his hands as he scrubbed, and he shook his head in reply.

Frowning, Izuku looked back out at the forest. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

The feeling followed him to lights out.

As he crawled under the blankets to his futon, he stared at the ceiling in thought. The training camp was a trip meant to be secluded and under the radar. Very few people knew they were there. None of the students were given the location, and only the teachers invovled knew about it. Not even Yamada knew where they were.

Nezu knew of course, but he was the only one still at the school who knew about the training camp.

If something happened, backup wouldn't get here until it was already too late. There were only six heroes here to protect fourty students, who only had half a years worth of training, sans Izuku who had been training with combat months before the school year. It was still a lot of kids for six people to protect.

They didn't even have authorization to use Quirks, and most of the people here relied a little too much on their powers.

Something icky roiled in his gut, and he turned onto his side, pulling his legs up to his chest and pulling the blanket over his head to make it darker. The dark was always safer. If you can't see whats in the dark, it can't see you either.

He breathed deep breaths for a good ten minutes before he felt his heart slow, bringing him out of his near panic attack. The feeling in his gut still hadn't left, though.

'What ifs' coursed through his head and he screwed his eyes shut tightly. Something could happen, and no one would be there to help them before someone was hurt. No one. They're all just sitting ducks here.

The hours passed and he sat there still, thinking about the possibilities. Plans forming in his head to avoid the worst case scenarios. He tried sleeping, but his mind stayed stubbornly awake. He tried all of the tricks Aizawa had given him. Counting sheep, playing a movie in his head, working through calculus equations, and focusing on his breathing, but nothing worked.

Before he knew it, it was already three in the morning.

The icky feeling didn't go away.