Next to him, he can feel Paul coiling the muscles in his back in the space between words and nearly regrets ever speaking of this. Midoriya strives, as ever, to put his friends at ease, but he also recognizes the ready posture of someone twined with him in the bloody chaos of battle. They are the relentlessness of an iron hammer and the efficiency of a black-sheathed knife. He remembers Paul affixing wing pins to his collar as he spoke about a test where failure meant death. He doesn't ask why Paul isn't so free with the knowledge of his associations. He doesn't need to.

He presses his lips together in a not-quite-smile when he looks at him again. "Not sure. It's been generations since vigilantes were legalized as Heroes, and records are spotty. It was a chaotic time. I don't really know how they did things." He swallows, thinking of the past wielders of One For All all dying young, with the exception of his mentor, and how even that information was hard to come by. Sipping some tea helps the dryness in his mouth.

"Things you think people would already know, I guess. There's photos of me in costume at camp..." Camp Leviathan, worst field trip ever. "Consistency is important for a public image. I guess that's true for protecting a private one. And it's easier to use just a little truth than making up huge lies."

Whatever his misgivings about lying to a close friend, Midoriya mutters this easily, almost to himself. He learned this from his mentor, who was always in the public eye. All Might kept the secret of One For All so that its origin--and method of transfer--wouldn't throw a powder keg into society.

"If you need to recommend a Hero to someone who needs help, you can. I won't let this get in the way of that."