[It's nicely affirming when Izuku settles a little at the touch, and for a moment while he works out what to say, Shoto's content to let the silence linger, focusing instead on how soft Izuku's hair is, on the feeling of the thick waves under his fingers. And when his friend finally speaks again...well, it makes sense. Sort of. He's never heard of a quirk coming in that late, but one as powerful as Izuku's...it would explain some things. About how he couldn't control it, how his body wasn't strong enough to support it. It was dangerous, and it's maybe even more of a miracle that he hasn't gotten himself or anyone else killed.

Still, it doesn't sit well with him. Not the late-onset quirk--the rest. Izuku might not blame them, but Izuku is perhaps the most selfless person he's ever met. And the rest...]

That doesn't make it right. Quirks might be a big part of society, but people without them are still people. And kids--it's one thing when they're small, but by middle school...they should know better.

[He knows exactly what kind of people, what kind of teachers would turn a blind eye, too, or teach those behaviors. His father had always tried to teach him that only being the strongest mattered, that those weaker than him should always be left behind. You do the work of a hero but the goal is to surpass all the rest. And maybe those lessons had sunk in, a bit more than he'd thought--after all, look at how he'd been at first, treating everyone in his class as rivals, potential roadblocks, or worse, just useless and irrelevant. Look at the way he treated Izuku.

Now it's Shoto's turn to duck his head a little.]

...I'm sorry, you know.