Chapter 9: Of Course I Did

The sun was still low when Aiko stepped inside the workshop. She paused in the doorway, letting the familiar scent of iron and charcoal wash over her. The rhythmic clang of metal had quieted—a sign that Tetsurō was taking a break, or listening.

“Back already?” came his voice from the side room.

Aiko smiled faintly, brushing wind-tangled hair behind one ear. “Mhm. Izuku had to go into school early today, so I just came back.”

She shrugged off her backpack and set it on the floor. Its zipper caught, then gave with a tug. She pulled out a few small scraps of metal: a large bolt, a curious piece of warped copper piping, something that might’ve once been part of an old hinge.

Tetsurō emerged from the side doorway, wiping his hands on a cloth. His eyes—always keen despite the crow’s feet—softened as he took in the way she handled each piece.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding toward the copper. “That one we can salvage.”

She smiled again and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Izuku helped me find it. He’s good at spotting things.”

Tetsurō smiled but didn’t comment. He reached for a black canvas cap, brushing a bit of dust off the brim before setting it on her head.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re going shopping.”

Aiko looked up. “Shopping?”

“Clothes,” he grunted. “You can't wear T-shirts as dresses forever. Besides, you're a young lady now, going out on dates. You need to dress a little more appropriately.”

Aiko blushed a little, tucking her hair up and pulled the cap on low over her ears. It cast a faint shadow over her face, which, for some reason, made her feel safer.

She slung her empty backpack back over her shoulder. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’m ready.”

"We're not buying that much," Tetsurō laughed.

"I know," said Aiko. "I just like wearing it."

A short tram ride later, they stepped into a narrow street lined with small, colorful shops and awnings strung with faded paper lanterns. Music played from somewhere—tinny J-pop drifting from a speaker above a thrift shop doorway.

Aiko stayed close, eyes wide beneath the shadow of her cap. It had been a long time since she’d walked anywhere this busy—especially somewhere filled with so much color and life. The street pulsed with groups of teens laughing near a bubble tea stand, couples ducking in and out of boutiques, the scent of sweet soy glaze drifting from a food cart at the corner. It was the most crowded place she’d been in months.

Her fingers curled into the strap of her bag. The chatter of voices, the shuffle of footsteps, the music spilling from open doors—it all pressed in at once. Too much. Almost.

Tetsurō gave her a reassuring glance, his hand resting lightly against her back.

“It’s just clothes,” he said, reading the quiet tension in her shoulders. “Not an exam. You’ll be alright.”

Aiko exhaled slowly. She nodded, and the sound of his voice steadied her more than she expected.

They wandered into the first shop, its racks packed tightly with cotton blouses and neatly hung skirts. Aiko trailed her fingers along the fabrics as she passed—linen, soft jersey, delicate lace. Some things were bold and trendy, with oversized prints and glitter that caught the light. One shirt had sequins stitched into the shape of a cat’s face.

She lifted it, holding it up against her. The sequins shimmered rainbow under the fluorescent bulbs.

She looked up at her granddad who was already smiling. She snorted softly and put it back, cheeks pink.

Aiko found herself drifting toward simpler things. She picked out a pleated black skirt, a blue and white floral dress, a plain pink dress, and a pair of denim shorts. Simple pieces, but ones that felt like her. She hesitated in front of a rack of graphic T-shirts, then plucked out a fitted white one with the word もち (mochi) printed in soft lettering across the front. It made her smile.

When she carried the pile over to Tetsurō, he gave a small nod, his voice low but fond. “That’s a nice set you picked. Very feminine… like the old you.”

A pause, then a gentle smile. “Your mother would’ve liked that pink one, I think.”

He glanced at the receipt, squinting slightly. “Looks like you’ve got enough left for one or two more things.”

Aiko hesitated, then looked up at him. “Granddad, can we stop by the hero shop?”

Tetsurō raised a brow, then gave a small chuckle and nudged her elbow. “Come on. One more stop.”

They crossed the street and ducked into a hero merchandise store—bright, bustling, packed with themed displays and cardboard cutouts of the current top ten heroes. A fresh shipment had just come in, judging by the handwritten signs near the front.

The shop felt louder than the street outside—kids darting past with trading cards, a group of high schoolers comparing prices on All Might hoodies, two little boys squabbling over a plastic Snipe mask.

Aiko’s eyes drifted past the All Might plushies and Endeavor figurines—until something caught her attention behind the glass counter. Something small. Shining.

New release. Limited edition.

“This one, please,” she said quietly, pointing to it.

The shopkeeper smiled. “You’ve got good taste—these just came in this morning. They’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

Tetsurō paid, handing the little box to Aiko, who tucked it into her backpack. "Thank you, granddad."

“That for him?” he asked quietly as they stepped outside.

Aiko’s cheeks flushed. She nodded, clutching her backpack strap.

“Make sure he earns it,” he added with a wink.

Her face heated more, and she ducked her head. “He’s very kind,” she murmured.

Tetsurō chuckled under his breath. “Kind’s a good thing,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling as though he’d already decided something. “Startin’ to think he might be good for you.”

Aiko’s fingers brushed the box through the canvas of her bag. She didn’t say anything. But her heart felt strange—warm and nervous at the same time.

Later that evening, Aiko stepped out of her room in the soft pink dress. She gave a little twirl, the fabric catching the warm lamplight as she spun.

Tetsurō looked up from the workbench, and his face softened. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—just stared, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“You look lovely, my dear,” he said, voice thick with feeling.

Aiko smiled, smoothing the dress at her sides. There was a quiet confidence in her again, like something gentle was blooming back to life.

She stepped closer to the bench, eyes landing on the knee guards he’d been working on. “Oh—you added the padding,” she said, picking one up and turning it in her hands.

“Yeah,” he nodded, reaching for a strip of cloth. “Sewn in nice and secure. But use these ones if you’re sparring—no metal inserts. You don’t want to hurt anyone by accident.”

She gave him a mock sigh, rolling her eyes with a smile. “I know, granddad. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

Tetsurō shook his head with a faint chuckle. “Why a dainty little lady like you would even want this stuff is beyond me.”

Aiko hesitated, then looked down. “I… just like dressing up. Like Red Justice.” Her voice was small, almost sheepish.

Tetsurō sighed but didn’t press her. He simply set the guards back down on the bench with a soft clink. “Come on,” he said, brushing his hands on a cloth. “Let’s eat. We've got eggplant tonight.”

Aiko’s eyes lit up, just a little. “Really?”

He smiled. “Picked it up this morning. Thought you’d like it.”

✧ ✧ ✧

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…”

Izuku startled mid-rep and spun around, sand clinging to his hands and elbows.

Aiko approached him, sunlight pooling gently around her knees. Her new little pink dress skimmed her thighs—soft, simple, and far more fitted than anything she’d worn before. She looked radiant. Grown-up. Different.

Izuku stumbled to his feet, his heart practically stuttering in his chest.

“A-Aiko?” he stammered.

She blinked up at him, still wide-eyed, still processing what she’d just witnessed. “You didn’t tell me All Might would be here today!”

Izuku opened his mouth to answer—and completely forgot how. His throat was dry. His thoughts were scrambled. He’d seen her almost every day for weeks in oversized shirts. But this was… something else entirely.

That dress—

His face turned bright red.

“Whoa—uh—wow—I… uh… y-you look… wow,” he mumbled, eyes flicking anywhere but her face.

Aiko finally turned toward him fully, the fabric catching the light. “It’s new,” she said shyly. “Granddad took me shopping yesterday.”

Izuku nodded, still blinking like he was trying to reboot his brain. His gaze hovered somewhere around her shoulder, still struggling to reach her eyes, like looking directly at her might short-circuit his entire nervous system.

Aiko let out a soft laugh. “You okay?”

He nodded again—a bit too quickly.

“Mm-hmm. Y-yeah! I’m fine, I just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. “It’s just—uh—you look really… um… different. I mean—not in a bad way! It’s just—uh—I wasn’t expecting… wow.”

She blushed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and gave him a moment to breathe.

He tried again. “I-I mean… it’s a really nice dress.”

A pause.

“You look… r-really wow—uh... really nice in it.”

Aiko’s smile lingered. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Izuku stood frozen, eyes moving nervously, chest rising and falling just a little too fast. He tried not to stare, tried to keep his eyes steady, but they kept flicking back to her—like his body hadn’t gotten the memo from his brain to stay calm.

Then, without another word, she stepped forward, bringing her right in front of him, close enough that he had no choice but to lift his gaze at last.

His eyes met hers—wide, sapphire-bright, and impossibly warm.

“Happy birthday, Izuku,” she whispered.

She held out a small box between them.

Izuku blinked, staring at the box like it might vanish if he touched it.

“For… for me?” he said, voice cracking slightly.

Aiko gave a tiny nod. “Mm-hm.”

He reached out with both hands, his fingers trembled as they closed around the edges.

“You… remembered my birthday.”

Aiko tilted her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips, but she didn't say anything.

Izuku’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked down at the box, then back up at her—and just stared. His throat tightened, words catching painfully somewhere in the middle.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” he whispered, his voice thick and uneven.

Tears welled in his eyes, he blinked hard, trying to force them back.

Aiko’s smile softened as she watched him, the breeze teasing the hem of her dress.

“Thank you,” he said, barely more than a whisper. “I… I don't usually… thank you.”

Aiko’s eyes sparkled with warmth, and after a heartbeat of silence, she tilted her head and whispered, “Open it.”

Izuku gave a small, shaky laugh, and nodded. His hands trembled as he lifted the lid carefully.

Inside, nestled against the black velvet cushion, was a brand new, limited edition All Might pin—the kind that had just hit stores. Bright enamel. Dynamic pose. The tiny “SMASH!” lettering gleaming in gold at the edge.

Izuku blinked. Then blinked again.

“I— wh— this is—” he stammered, eyes darting between the pin and Aiko’s face. “I-I mean—this just came out, how did you even—?”

Aiko smiled. “It came in yesterday. I thought you might like it.”

Izuku stared down at the pin, still cradled in its little box. His voice came out quiet, almost disbelieving. “Yeah, but… how?”

She shrugged, a little bashful. “Granddad gave me some money to buy clothes. I… wanted to get you something.”

Izuku looked up, blinking fast. His throat was too tight.

“You spent it on… me?”

Aiko nodded, her eyes meeting his.

“Of course I did.”