Whatever his outburst at first, Midoriya seems to be calmed. Something has reassured him that they are indeed illusions, and he looks at them once again like someone looking at a movie projected on a wall. The fascination is no less heartfelt, but firmly detaching fantasy from reality. He doesn't keep track of Paul, but his nose still tingles where he kissed him.

"Name your masters," they say.

Midoriya's eyes slide familiarly to All Might, and he gazes at him before finally ducking his head with mouth pressed in a line. The light shrinks from sculpted god-like man to a very thin man in baggy clothes. Still blond, but his hair has rather less perfecting gel in it. He looks like one good gust of wind would do him in.

"Are these his masters?" the blurry shapes behind them ask Paul.