Chapter Text
I wonder if my UA student card works, I think as I wait outside the grand UA gates for principal Nedzu and receive my visitor's pass.
I swipe the card through the log in doc, cause I’m bored, early and what's the worst that could happen?
The doors go into lockdown. Thick metal dividers rise from the ground, red lights spin, and an alarm starts blaring ‘attempted intruder’ on repeat. The cameras at the gate post zero in on me and squint as a red spotlight eyes me from above.
Shucks.
Why does it feel like things aren’t going to go right today?
I hide behind my hands as heat tingles beneath the skin of my cheeks, and the muscles under my eyes start to hurt from continuously wincing.
Big firm hands grab my shoulders, and I jump at the contact. They spin me around and push me against the wall somewhat harshly and, ok, I set off the alarm and that was stupid but I haven't done anything offensive, there is no need to be rude.
“What are you trying to pull, kid?!” The man fumes with a low rumbly voice. He’s tall and bulking, wearing a green and black hero costume, but not one I recognise. I’m about to try and explain myself -would not have been very effective- when the alarms disable and the divider goes down.
Principle Nedzu steps around the corner to see me pinned against the wall by the guard which is maybe not the best first impression.
“Principle Nedzu!” Me and the guard both exclaim in unison, myself in partially joyous relief. The guard? He’s more ready to get permission to beat my face in.
“I surely hope you haven’t brought any harm to our guest, Parakeet. That would be a horrible impression to make. Especially as a school aiming to protect the general public and youth, such as Young Midoriya here!” Nedzu scolds, shaking his head and tutting.
Parakeet releases me, still glaring with suspicion.
“I too was curious as to whether your student ID would work! What a dramatic outcome, don't you think?” He asks, and I nod sheepishly. Before I can offer an apology, he continues. “Why don’t you come in! We have much to discuss. Parakeet, can you get his visitor card?”
The hero nods, reluctant and confused. When he returns from the guard box with my visitor card he doesn’t let it go easily, leveling me with a frankly unnecessary glare, and I have to yank it from his fingertips with a petty amount of force. Honestly, he reminds me of Kacchan. Once I have my visitor card, Nedzu leads me up the courtyard and through the halls of the school while we make pleasant small talk about the school layout and how the exams have changed. Apparently, the standards have gotten progressively higher over the years! The end of the first year exam now is what the entrance exam was for me when I applied for UA in the future (damn those tenses are weird), so while I do need to take the exam to ensure my place as a ‘transfer student’, principal Nedzu and I are both confident enough that I’ll pass that we’ve already started to speculate how I’ll get a uniform and the accommodations they might provide to me as courtesy of my ‘quirk induced misplacement’ victim status.
I used to be pretty intimidated by the UA Head, but earlier this year (15 years into the future?) We had an extensive, engaging, and deeply intellectually stimulating discussion about quirks we found interesting, and ever since then I deeply look forward to my interactions with him.
“Oh! It’s my classroom!” I comment as we start walking past the familiar section of hallway. I peek in through the window as we pass to get a look at my future classmates, and make eye contact with a guy with long black hair. I wave at him, offering a smile that feels a little too round on my face before turning back to Nedzu to comment on how pristine the school still is in the future. He seems quite proud of that.
When we get to Nedzu's office, he immediately starts fussing over making tea. Once we’re both settled comfortably into our seats with warm teacups in hand, he gives me that glint in his eye that tells me we’re getting down to business.
~
“TIME IS UP. STUDENT SCORE: 2311 POINTS. PASS.” Booms an automated voice over the various hidden speakers in Ground Beta.
“YES!” I cheer, face flushed and panting, squinting in the early afternoon sun while raising my fist into the air, my back on the warm, uneven pavement.
We redid the robot point exam towards the end of my first year as a checkpoint exercise, and based on my new results I’ve already upped my score by 21 points! It could be attributed to the lack of classmates being there to fight the robots for me, or maybe the robot difficulty setting potentially being lower. But I feel like I’ve been improving a lot ever since the doctors deemed my full recovery. I revamped my training schedule after the war.
As I push myself up onto my feet, class 2A comes into Ground Beta filled with enthusiasm that I was not expecting.
“BRO THAT WAS INSANE” - “WHERE DO YOU BUY A QUIRK LIKE THAT BECAUSE I WANT ONE” - “Bro fights like he’s seen Armageddon” - "I’ve NEVER seen such a fierce approach to a sim, dude. Right on.”
I laugh sheepishly, as they talk over each other to compliment me and my ability. I haven’t had an opportunity to really go all out without worry of hurting others (or myself) in a long time. But all alone in ground beta? With 5000 robot villains to fight? I couldn’t help myself, and in the 20 minutes I managed to work myself up to 15 percent with One For All and find a way to work in all the other quirks too.
Some of the guys come and clap my shoulder, and it startles some memories into me.
Tired, dirty and beat up at the UA gate after the retrieval mission, knees weak, and feeling about a second away from falling over, the cries of the refugees' taking shelter at UA ring in my ears.
“He’s a Nomu!” - “We can’t let that monster stay here!” - “They’ll come after us!” - “He’s a freak of nature!” - “He’s working with the villains!” - “He’s putting us at risk just being here!” -
I guess these guys wouldn’t have the comparison to make to be scared of me.
The thought causes a soft smile to return to my face as that thought develops.
Maybe it’ll be nice to have a moment away from my reputation. From my past, and all the things that have haunted me. They haven’t happened yet. The world that built me is yet to exist.
That final thought feels more bitter, and a comment from a new voice pulls me back to the present.
“We totally dig your vibe, yo!”
The speaker stands in the middle of a gang of four, hand bent into a Rock-N-Roll gesture. The black haired guy from earlier is on his right. He isn’t looking at me, pink dusting his cheeks and- ok wow, he’s actually really cute now that I have a chance to look at him.
Izuku, now is NOT the time for your gayness.
On his left is a man with floaty blue hair, and a girl with long dark purple hair. The speaker himself has his mid length blond hair gelled back almost a bit like…
I look back between them and it clicks.
“Present Mic?” I ask hesitantly, face dropping as I re-examine the others in his group.
Long dark hair, those tired eyes- I did not just think Aizawa Sensei is cute. Which means that the girl on his left is-
Mrs Midnight.
My eyes prick with the familiar sensation of tears as Present Mic is freaking out at Aizawa because I know who he is -‘dude I’m famous’- and Aizawa is looking right at me with both his eyes now, and Mrs Midnight is laughing and she’s alive and young and beautiful and she’s -
“Hey, are you alright?” Aizawa asks me, shoving the excited blond teen off and reaching a hand out toward me gently, concern replacing the annoyed look he was giving Mic Sensei. The class has stopped cheering now, and they're all looking at me and I’m hyperventilating and the teacher starts to get the class to give me some space but I can’t tear my eyes off of- off of-
My eyes are really stinging now.
“Excuse me” I squeak, sight blurring as I push past the teacher, stumbling into a panicked sprint before I’m lost in my head, sinking into that dark mushy pit of memories once again.
That first fight with Shigaraki- Kacchan taking the blow for me- getting impaled- Aizawa cutting his leg off to stay in the fight- the blood pouring out of them- both of them- Kacchan askew across the dirty floor and he’s not going to make it- Kacchans’ s heart out on the battle field as Shigaraki laughs and he is not going to make it- it should have been me- the sobs that wrack through me so hard my ribcage aches- desperately trying to continue fighting Shigaraki as they escape and I can do nothing- the coffin in the sky falling and Aizawa and Mic and Monoma falling- heading to the hospital, looking over from my ambulance bed to see Mina and Jirou sobbing, bloody, and bruised and shaking, eyes wide and manic while they hold shock blankets tight around them- seeing Midnight's destroyed body as they rush her into the hospital past me and no one comes back from injuries like that- the funeral- Aizawa and Present Mic speaking with tears streaming down their face of memories from highschool, from parties and heartbreaks- everything Mrs Midnight cared about, fought for, believed in- I-
Next thing I know I’m splashing my face with water in the bathroom, hands shaking, breath seething through my teeth as the sink gushes water down the drain with a rumble from the pipes and a fshhh from the tap.
I hold myself there for a while, legs barely supporting me as I brace my forearms on the sink counter, face dripping while I pant and cry and shake.
This is not the first time this has happened. It probably won’t be the last. Hound Dog says they’re normal, and not to be hard on myself about them.
First time no one else knew what was happening, though.
That's right. I’m alone again.
My breathing’s still ragged and another cry rips out of me while I hunch over the sink, nose snotty as I rest my forehead painfully on the still running tap, neck strained as my back arches over painfully to accommodate my position.
“Young midoriya?” Calls a voice, startling me out of my illusioned solitude.
Glaringly reminded of my current environment, I sniffle and wipe my eyes with my dirty sleeve and- not the best choice that stings- I whip my head around to see principal Nedzu, standing in front of a concerned student. At my visible response, principal Nedzu dismisses him, leaving us alone in the bathroom.
The student must have been in here when I came in- or heard me from outside and gone to get a teacher.
Drive a nail through my foot and drop me in the woods, that is so embarrassing. I splash water into my face again, fighting off the new wave of tears because there’s no need to start that again. Sucking in a few final breaths, I speak to Nedzu, knowing we’re now alone in the bathroom.
“We can’t let anyone else know I’m from the future.” I state, voice hoarse and sore from gasping and dehydration. Turning my head back to the sink, I drag my hand down my face to wipe off the remaining droplets, the touch feeling coarse and uncaring. The paper towel I use after feels just as offensive.
Principal Nedzu sighs, and looks a little unsure of how to proceed. “I have to agree…and considering your emotional state right now, we certainly don’t need anymore dramas. However, there’s an update I do think you deserve to know as soon as possible, part of our new fragile subject. Let’s get you some nice hot tea in my office, hm? Come on.” He supplies, tone taking on a more comforting lilt as he finishes.
After properly cleaning my face and nose with the rough and stiff paper hand towels, I follow as he leads the way through the corridor with my hands still shaking.
~
Oolong has always been my favourite tea. I like that it’s quite versatile. I can have it hot, with milk, cold, with boba, with other flavourings. It can be a calming evening drink or a sweet treat.
Right now it tastes like cardboard.
“I understand this will be difficult for you, Young Izuku. Please know my door is always open for you if you want to talk- about anything.”
Principal Nedzu reaches over the desk to put his paw over my scarred and aching fingers where they rest, burning against the porcelain of the teacup.
“If you think it's right, we can inform the school psychologist of your situation. She can have a session with you if you want, and only if you want.” He adds.
I can’t even nod.
It's going to be 15 years before I can see my Mom again. My friends. Kacchan-
Deep breath.
Pull it together.
One thing at a time.
I can take my time to process the fact that I’m stuck here. I only have until tomorrow to prepare to be in the same class as- as-
My eyes sting again.
“Mrs Midnight…” I start, the ball growing in my throat like a damn I need to break. I can’t meet Nedzu’s eyes. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle seeing his face, I don’t know if I should be telling him this but I have nowhere else to go. “She-” and the tears spill- “She died really horribly.”
It’s high pitched and strangled, I barely get it out around that painful knot in my throat, and maybe it’s barely coherent, maybe he didn’t catch it, maybe I can pretend I didn't say that, that it didn't happen. It hasn’t happened right? Maybe I can just ignore-
Nedzu’s paw tightens on my hand. I look to his eyes instinctively, and I’ve never seen that look on his face. Drawn and leaky eyed and sympathetic and sorry. I don’t think he’s ever looked more full of human emotion, and it hits me right in the chest just how much Nedzu really cares about his students.
And I've just told him that one of them dies horribly- I’m horrible. How could I tell him that?
The sobs shake me so hard I almost knock over my tea. I hear Nedzu sniff across from me.
Meeting his eyes again I can’t stop myself-
I know it’s not my fault. All the therapy with Hound Dog and the late night conversations with classmates, comforting them, consoling each other, I’m a hypocrite for saying it, but what else can I say?
“I- I’m so so-sorry-” I cry, and my nose is almost in my tea, but Nedzu cuts me off before I even finish, squeezing my hand tighter and it feels like such an undeserved comfort, but I clutch onto his forearm with my other hand anyway.
“No I’m sorry, Young Izuku. I can’t imagine the position this is putting you in. I would cry the same as you in your situation. You are so brave, and you’ve done everything right. Thank you for telling me-” I hold his arm tighter.
I don’t want to be brave right now.
“oh, you’re just a child, Izuku.” He continues after a moment, bringing his other hand to rest on the one that grips his forearm like a vice. His gentle paw meets my shaking and straining hand like a vine growing on an old wall, and it makes me crumble.
“Now- now I’m going to get to know her and the others, grow up with them, become heroes with them instead. I could barely handle it, their injuries and their sufferings- when they were my teachers. How am I supposed to go through all that again? How am I supposed to act around them knowing what's coming and knowing that I won't be able to stop it?”
The vent turns into a mad and desperate yell, and I’m distantly grateful that Nedzu’s office is soundproof. Oh my god what if it’s not soundproof yet?
“The room is soundproof right?” I ask, tilting my head back up to look at him a little panicked and distracted by my new worry. The sudden change in topic makes him chuckle wetly as a tear spills out of his eyes.
“Oh, you dear child, it’s all right. No one can hear you, it’s just you and me.”
He smiles with that torn expression of fondness and care and sympathy and ache, the one I see in my mother all the time, and he holds my hands tighter.
I take a deep breath. “Well. That’s- That’s good then.” I say, breathless and resolute.
Nedzu starts laughing properly at that. A moment later my diaphragm shakes and I join him in a fit of silent laughs and sniffles.